The Age of Light (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 1) (16 page)

“Too close for coincidence,” Otaga observed,
shifting to her rest stance. She rested all her weight on one leg and then
braced the other foot against her inner thigh, leaning on her spear.

“That is what the Heir thought also,” Pentuk said,
glancing nervously at her teacher. She had been answering a lot of questions
and was unsure whether she should continue or defer to the Head Librarian. He,
however, seemed content to let her do the talking, for he only smiled and
nodded encouragingly.

“So what happened?” Staventu asked. “The being was
sent here, you said. What occurred once the being was brought to the Ritious City?”

Pentuk set the book down and spread her fingers on
its cover. “That’s just the point,
Av’
Son. It is
almost impossible to know.
All the texts and references that describe what
happened have been lost.
”

Silence followed her words, as the full impact of
what she was saying became clear. But she was not finished. “This proves that
the destruction of all those manuscripts was deliberate,
Av’
Son. Someone with a great deal of influence wanted to keep
whatever had occurred from ever being known. The Heir and I were a little
suspicious when we found that text after text was missing on this subject.
Books are lost or misplaced from time to time, but all of them?”

“So it is possible, or even likely, that the events
surrounding this creature are linked to the
Zehj’Ba
,”
Jarisa said, her face still showing profound shock. “And we have no way of
knowing what those events were. Why would anyone try to keep us from knowing
the source of the
Zehj’Ba
? Did that
someone
want
the
Av’ru
to die?” She
blew hard through her nose in frustration. “Did absolutely
every
single
text on the subject come to such ends?”

Pentuk felt the blood leave her face as the
Rite-binding broke. “Well, yes - uh, no, not exactly,” the young Librarian
said, reluctantly. A second Rite-binding came to play, one that almost
compelled her to tell what she knew once the first was gone. It was a fail-safe
the Heir felt the need to place on her; for the Heir knew that if anything were
to happen to her, the High Queen would send her brothers after her. Pentuk was
suddenly the center of attention as all heads turned to her. Even her teacher
stared at her, for he had not been aware of what she was about to say. “All the
texts have been destroyed, except one.” She reached into a fold-pocket and
extracted a very squat, thick volume that was bound in hardened, frayed silk
and once fine leather. “I found this, quite by accident in one of the storage
areas. It was in a chest marked ‘old medical journals.’ I believe that’s why it
was overlooked.” She could not meet her teacher’s eyes.

“You do have a flare for the dramatic, don’t you?”
Staventu said, shaking his head. “What does it say?”

“Why wasn’t I informed of this?!” Rukto demanded,
his outraged voice running over the Prince’s question. Staventu let it pass
without comment.

Pentuk fell to her knees and crossed her wrists in
supplication at her teacher’s obvious displeasure. “Please, Teacher, forgive
me! The Heir told me not to tell anyone of it without one or both of her
brothers present,” she begged softly, “and then, only if asked directly. She
made me take the Rite of Silence about it, that could only be broken in the
presence of the
Av
’Sons.”

“Don’t be cross with her, Rukto, she did not keep it
from you on purpose,” Staventu placated the old scholar. Rukto nodded, though
he still looked slightly put out. Pentuk glanced gratefully at Staventu as she
slowly climbed back to her feet, and he answered with a small nod. He found
that he liked the quiet, enigmatic young woman. He began to wonder what she was
like under that shy exterior.

“But that looks like a personal journal of some
sort, not an official
warru
journal,”
Rilantu observed. “Does it have anything useful to say about our problem here?”

Pentuk carefully opened the book, dispensing this
time with the rite of finding, out of respect for its age and fragility. Her
hands shook.

“It
is
a personal journal, sires; the journal
of one of the
maddi
of Jenikia sul Ava’Lon, written
in the cycles right before her ascension to the High Throne. This woman had
apparently been apprenticed to the royal
ol’bey’w
oman in
addition to her duties with the Heir Jenikia. It tells of the events
surrounding the creature, or rather, as much of it as the
maddi
observed.” She proffered the tome to Staventu, but he shook his head and waved
it away.

“You read it to us - I’ve no touch for fragile
things. Or most fragile things,” he amended slyly. Rilantu nudged him sharply
under the table.

The only sign of embarrassment that Pentuk showed
was a nervous clearing of her throat. It was a habit she could not rid herself
of. She felt as if her face were burning, though, and she watched her fingers
shake slightly as she turned the pages of the aged journal with care. She
wondered if her reactions were to the younger Prince’s little teases or the
disapproval of Rukto. She thrust the line of thought away before it went any
further.

“With your permission I will read only the pertinent
passages and leave out the irrelevancies.” At their nods she scanned the pages
for the entries that she and the Heir had marked, shifting her weight off her
slightly aching right foot. She cleared her throat again without being aware of
it.

“ ‘This turn a most unusual being was brought in
secret to the Palace. I was called upon to help care for it, assisting the
ol’bey’
one
M’rad’ri, for the creature had been through some great trauma. I was made to
swear to absolute secrecy about this bizarre patient. I was even made to take
the Rite of Silence on the matter; but I can write about what I saw. Such a
creature! Almost like one of the
Katari
, but this,
this
Av’
Touched
(if it is indeed
Av’
Touched and not one of the things
from the
Lora’Lons
)
is almost half again as big as those four-legged ones. Its wuman part is pale
as the inside of a
marmi’
apple, even
to the point where the skin shows visible effects of prolonged exposure to
Av
;
and its hair/crest is straight as any animal’s fur, but soft, soft as fine
silk! The
kati’yori
part is the blackest black I’ve ever seen, blacker than
Lors’ev
e, when there are no moons and you can’t see your hand
before your face! Its hair/crest is long and flowing, unlike the stiff crests
of the
Katari
and is black near the head, but turns to living, liquid silver at the ends. It
was glorious! I ran my hands through it at every opportunity. The socks and
hooves and tail and the curious fringe are all that magnificent, luminous
silver, as is the single, spiraled horn upon its brow. And its eyes, bottomless
as the eve and just as full of stars! Truly this is a beautiful creature, even
though its condition is not good. And its ‘
rita
is like none I’ve ever experienced. It has the taste of
av’rita
,
but there is something else; a strange taste like
av’rita
,
but different, darker somehow. Whatever it is, this creature is certainly not
the progeny of
Ava’Lona
.’ ”

She looked up into their rapt faces, took that as a
cue to move on to the next of the marked entries.

“ ‘The being, that I call privately
Lor’av’ona
,
seems to be doing much better. Its physiology is not that much different from
the
Katari
.
The Heir seems quite taken with the creature - she spends an inordinate amount
of time with it - with him. She is convinced that the creature is from the
Lora’Lons
,
and she talks with him for
san’chrons
at a
time, trying to help him remember; for the poor thing seems to have lost all of
his memories. I do not believe that the High Queen is at all pleased with the
fascination that her daughter has with the being. I tend to agree, though what
I think is irrelevant. But the Heir shows all the symptoms of a growing
infatuation with the creature. I have tried to broach the matter in the most
tactful way, but the Heir insists that her interests in him are purely academic
in nature.’ ”

Pentuk’s heart raced slightly as she relived the
past through the words of this long dead woman. That was one of the reasons she
loved
herstory
so
-
every time she opened one of the ancient texts she was transported
to another time, lived another life, saw the world through the eyes of Queens and commoners, scholars and warru, lovers and long
time enemies. She did not even look up as her eyes rapidly scanned the words,
drinking them in at a tremendous rate, until her next mark signaled that she
needed to read aloud again.

“ ‘The Heir has confessed to me a terrible thing,
and again I have been asked to take the Rite of Silence on the matter. She has
shared the Rite of
Solu
with the
being! She claims that he knew nothing of the Rite, and that she was merely
teaching him something that, by right, he should know. But somehow something
went wrong. The sharing was too intimate she says, but I believe it is because
the
Lor’av’ona
is not wholly of
Ava’Lona
origin that this blasphemy
has occurred. She is inconsolable, for a thing has been born of this unritious
act - a child! Gestated and delivered within a single eve! Rich of skin like
us, but with the hind legs and silver attributes of the creature. It is no
normal child, this thing, but a misbegotten abomination, a testament of their
unsactimonious love! Nor was this thing begot by normal means; it came into
existence as they performed the Rite! The Heir says that it formed as a glowing
sphere that settled on her belly, and that she became as one pregnant. And
then, just a few
san’chrons
later, it was born. The
High Queen has learned of this accursed spawning and is in a rage. She has not
destroyed the creature, for the pleading of the Heir, but banished him to one
of the small, unclaimed
lons
near the
Western Border of the
Av’ru
. The thing’s
spawn, however, was stillborn, and has been sent with the creature to be
inured, away from the Heir, least its spirit turn to
dwen
and come to plague her. The Heir has been made to perform the Rite of
Expungement. She may only bear one child that will survive, a girl-child to be
Heir. After that she must take a balm that will leave her barren. I wept for
her even as I prepared the terrible concoction. For love and ignorance were her
crimes. All involved have undergone purification and our tongues have been
stilled and our hands stilled. All, that is, except for my hand. I will never
speak nor write of this again, though, and I will see this journal destroyed -
but I had to take the terrible weight of this knowledge off of my soul. May the
Supreme One have mercy on us all.’ ”

“By
Solu’s
hand,”
Jarisa uttered, her usual mask of confidence gone, replaced by dumbfounded
shock.

“It’s a
cover up,” Staventu whispered, his eyes wide. “The whole thing is a cover up to
hide High Queen Jenikia’s disgrace!”

“And well they might,” Rilantu said grimly. “Can you
imagine the kind of damage that information could do if it were to fall into
the wrong hands? Like Tokia sul Ottanu? The upheaval would rip this Realm apart
at the seams, and the authority of the whole High Family would be called into
question.” He looked at the book as if it were a poisonous snake. “Destroy it,”
he said flatly. “Much as I hate to lose any more of this story, that particular
piece is too volatile to let exist any longer and is better left untold.
Especially now.” He shook his head. “Destroy it. And we will all take the Rite
of Silence on this matter, with the exception of telling Mother.”

Otaga wordlessly held out her hand for the volume.
Pentuk, with great reluctance and visible effort, handed it over. She then
turned away, to hide the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes. Rukto patted
her hand and the
Warru First
gave her a look filled
with sympathy - Librarians could no more destroy a book than she could destroy
a shield of well-tanned hide or a superbly made spear.

“So let’s get this straight,” Staventu said, turning
the matter slowly over in his mind. “You found the book here. So what is our
illustrious sister looking for?” He directed the question to Pentuk, who fought
to regain her composure. But as soon as he asked, he knew. His eyes raised
slowly to the young woman’s, his face stricken. “Don’t tell me,” he said
through his teeth, his eyes locked on her face. “Don’t tell me!”

Pentuk nodded, looking yearningly at the journal.
“She has gone in search of the creature,
Lor’av’ona
itself. She did not say so directly, but she had begun tracking down any
legends or folktales that hinted of such a creature. Especially near the
Border. The last time she was in contact with me, she said that she might have
found something. She was very excited. She collaborated with me on the
construction of a trap to hold a very large creature, similar to the
Katari
.
It was after she had left the main body of her escort.”