Archon (6 page)

“I made it months ago,” Challis said. “Before the Fall. Never got around to giving it to you.”

He wondered why she felt the need to give it to him now. If this were the pre-Fall days, he would wonder if she knew about his plans. But the timing had to be coincidental — if odd.

“Thanks. I don’t have a scarf.”

“Amma will like it,” Challis said.

That sounded like the old Auntie Challis, the one who knew things before they happened. Taemon peered at her. “Did you see that? Do you know anything about what’s going to happen next?”

Challis waved her hand dismissively. “Skies, no. I don’t need precognition to know that Amma likes bright colors.”

He looked at his aunt, wondering if she was being truthful with him. But then he was hardly being truthful with her.

She nodded at the scarf. “I didn’t just come by to give you that. I want to know more about you getting your psi back.”

So there
was
an ulterior motive to Challis’s visit. Taemon played with the ends of the scarf as he talked. “I didn’t have it when I was in the colony,” he said, needing to clarify that point. “And I didn’t have it when we got caught and then escaped from the prison. When Moke —” He wasn’t ready to talk about Moke. If only he’d had psi when Moke had been injured! He could have fixed him — he could have
saved
him — instead of watching him die.

He cleared his throat. “But when Yens captured Amma and me, I spoke to the Heart of the Earth and asked her to return my psi to me. It was the only way to save Amma. Yens was going to kill her.” He looked straight at Challis. “And he was going to kill me, too. I knew that if I had psi, I could stop him.”

Challis nodded, and he knew she didn’t judge him for his actions — or for where those actions had led.

“And then you asked the Heart of the Earth to do away with everyone’s psi but your own?” she said.

“No!” Taemon protested. “I mean, I
did
ask her to get rid of psi, but for
everyone.
Me included. I just didn’t realize that when I asked her to give me my psi back, it would be forever.”

“And you just now figured out that you still have psi?” Challis said. Was there a hint of doubt in her voice? “It’s been months since that day.”

“I never tried to use it. Not till we were in real trouble, surrounded by those archers. Even then I didn’t expect it to actually
work.
”

Challis replied with a
hmph.

Taemon blushed, as though he’d been caught in a lie. “I don’t intend to use psi very much,” Taemon said. “Only when I absolutely have to, like to get away from Free Will’s men or stop the pain in my shoulder so I could drive back to the colony.”

“Which brings me to my next question.” She frowned and poked his left shoulder. “What’s going on with this?”

It should have hurt, the way she jabbed him like that. But if he hadn’t seen her do it, he wouldn’t even have known she’d touched him.

“I don’t know. I guess it just needs time to heal.”

Challis gave him a worried look. “I heard Urland discussing your shoulder with the other healers. They were talking about the signs of a psi wound.”

“A psi wound? What’s that?” He hoped he didn’t sound as guilty as he felt.

“Psi is tricky to begin with,” Challis explained, “and using it on yourself becomes even more complicated. There are so many things at work when you use psi: authority, knowledge, energy, intent. And the interplay of emotions and psi is especially complicated. If you use psi at a time when you are experiencing strong emotions, your psi can become bonded with the object you are influencing. For example, when psiball players have a strong desire to win, that desire can meld with the psi they’re directing at the ball, making it more accurate so that they score more goals. And if your mam is feeling especially kindly toward you when she’s cooking your favorite meal, that love works its way into the food.

“But if you’re experiencing strong
negative
emotions — like fear or pain or hatred — and if the object you’re acting on is your own body, then your psi works against your body, damaging it or attacking it.”

“You’re saying my psi is now attacking my shoulder, even though I used it to heal myself? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“There are many things about psi that you don’t understand — that no one does. That’s why it’s so dangerous — and foolish — to use psi on yourself,” she added pointedly.

“I told the healers that the psi aspect of your wound could be a holdover from your accident in the sea cave, before you came to the colony,” she continued, “but I’m not sure they believed me. And if Free Will’s men start talking about a boy who drove a quadrider, then it won’t be long before suspicions turn to you. I think it might be a good idea for you to lie low for a while. Maybe stay with Bynon on the farm until things die down.”

Skies, he hadn’t thought about Free Will’s men telling stories. With rumors of the return of psi already circulating in the city, talk like that could add fuel to the fire.

“You’re very talented,” Challis said. “You can do incredible things with psi, but you have to be careful. You may not always understand the consequences of your actions.”

“I don’t even want to use psi at all,” Taemon said. “It seems unfair, like I’m cheating by having it.”

“You’re the True Son,” Challis said. “Without psi, you can’t do what you need to do.”

“Haven’t I already done it?” Taemon whispered. Stopping Naseph and Yens. Getting rid of psi. Hadn’t that fulfilled his obligation as True Son?

Challis gave him a solemn look. “Not even close.”

The next morning, Taemon got up before dawn, even though he’d gotten only a few hours’ sleep. He intended to be on his way before the sun came up, one day earlier than what he’d told Amma. He hated lying, but he hated the thought of putting her in danger even more.

The night before, he’d collected a week’s worth of food. Assuming he could find the path over the mountain without too much difficulty, that should be plenty. And he could always supplement with berries, roots, and small game if it came to that.

He’d needed a few other supplies, too, and he figured that the workshop would be a good place to scavenge a few useful items.

But Drigg had beaten Taemon to it. He was already there, rummaging through drawers, pulling out tools. A knife. A flashlight. A tinderbox. Drigg paused and stared at Taemon for a moment, then busied himself with coiling a rope.

“Saw all the food you had piled in your room. Figured you’d be leaving today,” Drigg said gruffly. “Won’t pretend I like this idea. I hate it. But I can see you’re fixed on it.”

“I am,” Taemon said. “I have to find my da.”

Drigg scowled, wrapped the end of the rope around the coil, and tied it with a vengeance. “It just doesn’t sit right with me, a lad crossing the mountains on his own. I know I’m not your da, but you’re my apprentice, and that carries some responsibility. I wish this could wait until spring. I could go with you then.”

“You’re needed here,” Taemon said. “Like Solovar said, we need another hauler more than we need to rescue my da.”

Drigg frowned. “You know he didn’t mean it like that. It’s just there’s no guarantee your da’s even in the Republik. And how under the blazing sun are you going to find the way over them mountains? Have you thought about that?”

“I’ll have to use psi,” Taemon said.

“Psi,” Drigg scoffed. “Psi don’t tell you where the gap in the mountains is. If there is one. Psi don’t fill your belly. And psi don’t keep you warm and dry when a blizzard shows up.”

Actually, psi could do all of that — or at least Taemon’s psi could. Psi could help him trap small animals for food, and it could tell him where the gap was. And if it started to snow, psi could help him build a fire and erect a shelter. But Drigg didn’t know about Taemon’s clairvoyance, about how Taemon could send his mind outside himself to explore the world. Even for a psi wielder, this was a peculiar ability. But now was not the time to go into all that. Besides, Drigg had been powerless his whole life; he was always going to be suspicious of psi.

“I’m going,” Taemon said. There was nothing more to say.

“I know, I know,” Drigg said. “You’ve set your mind on it. I don’t expect to sway you. But you’re taking these things with you.”

Drigg held the rope out. Taemon took it with his left hand, but he fumbled and nearly dropped it.

Drigg frowned.

“That’s my bad arm,” Taemon said. “It’ll get better.”

“You come back in one piece, you hear?” Drigg said, his voice gravelly.

“I will,” Taemon promised. And he almost believed it.

He left in the grayness before dawn. He wished there were a way to say good-bye to Amma, but he knew she was determined to come along. She would reason with him, maybe even persuade him. Amma’s birth sign was Water, and water finds its way through fissures and cracks. He couldn’t afford that. He’d put her in danger too many times already. He set out alone and told himself it was better that way. He was a Knife, he reminded himself. He would cut his own path.

The first step was to head toward the mountains, which was easy enough. When he got closer, he’d have to use clairvoyance to try to find a way through. Using psi to navigate was something he’d never done before, and practicing on this easy stretch of the journey seemed like a good idea.

As he walked on the dirt path, he let his feet settle into a comfortable cadence, let the rhythm of his steps lull his mind into a trance. Each step was a connection to the earth, a union with the soil, the rock below it, the grass around it, the air above it. His body was a small portion of a thriving, intelligent planet, a vessel for his conscious thoughts and desires, but he was not bound by that small vessel. He sent his consciousness out into his surroundings, extending his awareness. He perceived earthworms tunneling, flowers releasing pollen, an owl returning to its nest, roots stretching, deer foraging. So many things were happening at once that it almost overwhelmed him.

Tuning out everything else, he focused on the surface of the soil, where land met air. The rise and fall of it, the ridges and ruts. How far could he extend his awareness? He pushed outward, farther and farther. Things got fuzzy outside a radius of a mile or so. He ignored what was behind him and sent his awareness in a forward direction only. He could see much farther now — nearly two miles!

When he felt his perception weaken, he released his psi and took a break. His head hurt, and the numbness in his shoulder seemed worse. This wasn’t something a person could do continually. He’d need to be smart about conserving his energy. This psionic navigation took a particular kind of mental discipline, but he was certain that with practice, he could improve.

The path became narrower and narrower until it disappeared altogether. The incline was getting steeper, and the trees were becoming denser. He was nearing the foot of the mountain. He’d skip breakfast, go a little farther, and stop later for some lunch. He tried to relax and settle into a steady rhythm.

By ten thirty, Taemon could no longer ignore his rumbling stomach. Besides that, he was exhausted. He wasn’t used to this much exertion — and he
was
still recovering from an injury.

He sat under a shady tree and slipped his knapsack off. Even though he was used to the powerless zippers and their little pull tabs, the fingers on his left hand did not seem to want to grip. He tried with his good hand, but even that was difficult. He stopped and tried to calm himself. He could do this. He just needed to relax.

He tried again with his right hand and made only a little progress. But he made enough space to stick his whole hand through it and force the zipper open with the pressure from his arm.

He managed to grab his water bottle but had trouble opening the cap. Skies, he was so clumsy! His entire left arm was numb and nearly useless, and his right arm was tingly and sluggish. He needed at least one good arm if he was going to make it across the mountain! Later, he’d have to climb rocks, grab the rope, and who knew what else.

Had using psi made his nerve damage worse? Was that how psi wounds worked? He wished he’d asked Challis more about that. If using psi made him weaker, what chance did he have of making it across this mountain on his own? Maybe he should turn back. Maybe Hannova and Drigg and all the others were right about the dangers of this trip.

A noise. A rustling noise. Footsteps, maybe. Was it an animal or a person? It was too far away to tell.

Who would be out here in the woods? Only one answer came to him: Free Will’s band. He remembered Hannova saying that they made a habit of accosting travelers. He’d assumed she’d meant travelers on the road. But what if he’d been wrong?

Skies, if they found him like this, barely able to work a zipper, he would stand no chance of getting away. He had almost no psi to draw on right now, having wasted all his energy testing the reaches of his awareness.

Taemon crawled behind the tree and into the brush. He grabbed a stick with his right hand and used it to scatter leaves over the marks in the dirt that his movement had created. He willed himself to relax, to slow his breathing, to be still.

He heard it again. Definitely footsteps. Definitely human. And
running
now. Someone was following him. Several someones. In just a few seconds, they would come around the bend in the path into his line of sight. He crouched as low as he could, till he could just see over the brush.

Five. There were five. Two he recognized from the encounter a couple of days earlier. They were Free Will’s men, no doubt about it. They stopped several yards before they reached the place where Taemon was hiding. Had they heard something? Did they know where he was?

They started talking, too quietly for him to hear them. But they weren’t looking his way. One of the men pointed into the forest across from where Taemon hid. Another got out a wire and strung it low across the forest floor, using trees as anchors. It was nearly invisible. Whatever — or whoever — they were tracking was going to trip over that wire. It was an ambush.

Free Will’s men disappeared into the trees, probably to flush out their prey and drive it toward the wire. Were they setting up the trap for
him
? Had they spotted him earlier? Or were they after anyone they could find in the woods?