The Tigrens' Glory (34 page)

“How did it go?” Garen asked Kyerion.

“Very well,” Kyerion replied.  “Much better than I expected, in fact.”  As he spoke Doc went to a large screen at the foot of Glory’s tank and began studying the diagrams and readouts on the display. 

“Excellent,” he murmured softly.  “The hemorrhage is completely gone, as are all signs of injury including bruising and swelling.  You did a magnificent job.”

“How long will it take to remove her from the tank?” Cade asked.

“Not long,” Doc said, continuing to study the readouts.  He frowned.  “Something isn’t quite right.”

“What is it?” Kyerion demanded. 

Doc was too used to the dominant nature of Clan Jasani to be bothered by Kyerion’s tone.  He began pressing buttons, pulling up different scans and diagrams.  Kyerion moved behind Doc and watched over his shoulder, surprised to discover that he could read in Standard.  The Garakai had been more thorough than he’d expected and he was thankful for it.  Unfortunately, it didn’t help him understand what he was looking at.  He forced himself to remain silent and allow Doc to do his job without interference.

After a few minutes Doc shook his head as he turned to face the Tigren and the Dracons.

“She should be in an induced dreamless coma,” he said.  “Almost, but not quite the same as the state one enters in a hibernation tank.  But she’s not.  She’s in what appears to be a type of REM dream state, but deeper, and she’s not responding to my attempts to pull her out of it.”

“Your demeanor indicates this is a problem,” Kyerion said.

“It’s not normal, which does bother me, yes,” Doc said.  “It could be because she’s got some Jasani DNA, but I really don’t know for sure.  I prefer to investigate the anomaly thoroughly rather than take a guess.  I understand you’re impatient to have her out of the tank, but....”

Kyerion held one hand up to interrupt Doc politely.  “We agree that all precautions should be taken, Doc.  We are impatient, yes, but not to the extent we would take the smallest risk with Glory’s life or her health.”  Doc nodded, relieved he wouldn’t have to struggle with the Tigren on the matter.  It wouldn’t stop him from doing what he thought best for his patient, but he could do without the fight he’d half expected to get.

“How do you plan to proceed?” Garen asked.

“I need to run a few tests,” Doc said.  “That’ll take time, so I suggest the three of you go get some rest.”

Kyerion didn’t want to leave Glory, but a quick glance at Kirk and Cade convinced him that Doc’s suggestion was a good one.  After the healing they’d just done, they all needed sleep.  “We shall do as you suggest, Doc,” he said.  “If her condition changes, we ask that we be informed at once.”

“Of course,” Doc promised.  Kyerion placed one palm against the glass over Glory’s head for a long moment, then turned and left the tank room. 

***

Scarcely half an hour later Kyerion stood in Glory’s valley of blue grass and lavender skies, staring at the heavy, iron bound door that was always present.  He thought of her refusal to discuss the door, or even look directly at it and, as always, he wondered why.  Since the original valley was a creation of her mind, then so was the door.  That begged the question of why it was there when she so obviously didn’t want anything to do with it.

He walked toward it, surprised to see that it was slightly ajar.  He reached for the doorknob with one hand but couldn’t grasp it.  His hand went through it as though it wasn’t there, which shocked him.  This was a dream. 
His
dream.  His dream body should be able to interact with his dream environment, just as it always had before. 

He turned his face up to the sky and felt the warmth of the sun.  He knelt down and ran his hand over the thick blue grass beneath his feet and felt it brush against his skin.  He stood back up, frowning as he tried to sort through this puzzle.

He leaned over so he could look into the narrow crack between the door and its wooden frame, but there was nothing to see other than thick, heavy blackness.  He raised one hand toward it.  Just before his fingers actually entered the blackness his hand stopped of its own accord as his hackles rose stiffly along the back of his neck.

Kyerion dropped his hand and took a step back, thinking.  This was his dream, not Glory’s.  Therefore, the door had to be of his own creation, as did the valley itself and everything else within it.  It was an exact copy of Glory’s valley, true, but it was still
his
.

So why was the door ajar when he hadn’t intended it to be?  Why couldn’t he touch it as he could everything else in the valley?  Why did he react with instinctive fear and defensiveness when he tried to put his hand into the darkness behind it?

He attempted to walk around the door, to see the other side of it, but each time he tried, the door moved as he did.  He focused on erasing the door completely, but it remained untouched. 

He turned his back on the door and imagined that there was a grove of trees in the center of the valley.  The trees appeared instantly, exactly as he’d seen them in his mind.  He changed the blue grass to green, the sky to blue, then put everything back as it had been. 

He turned around to face the door again, and imagined it smaller, taller, a different color, material, location.  No matter what he tried, he could not make the door change in the slightest degree.  What did it mean that he couldn’t alter this one object from within his own dream? 

The only answer was that it wasn’t
his
.  It was Glory’s.  Not the entire valley.  Just the door.  And whatever lay behind it.  But how?  The only explanation was that Glory was Dream Walking in
his
dream rather than pulling him into
her
dream.  

How was she doing this? 
Why
was she doing it?  Did she even know she was doing it?  He had far too many questions, and no answers.  What he did have was an idea, but he needed his brothers’ help.  He almost forced himself to wake up, then changed his mind.  They were all sleeping.  It wasn’t the same as the hibernation tanks forced unconsciousness, but it might work.  He closed his eyes and called to Kirk and Cade as he’d done when they were in the hibernation tanks. 

“We’re back in Glory’s valley,” Kirk said.  Kyerion opened his eyes, surprised and relieved that it had worked so quickly.

“Glory’s not here?” Cade asked.

“No, but I think she’s in there,” Kyerion said, gesturing toward the heavy wooden door.

“Why do you think that?” Kirk said. 

“This is my dream,” Kyerion said.  “I can control everything except that door.  I can’t change it, or touch it.  I think Glory put it here, in my dream, either consciously, or unconsciously.  And I think she’s on the other side of it.”

“It’s open,” Cade said, walking toward it.  “Just a little.  And it’s completely dark inside.  Do you think Glory opened it?”

“I can think of no other explanation,” Kyerion said.  

“What do you want to do?” Cade asked.

“I want us to try to open it enough that we can enter.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Kirk asked.

“The door is a mental projection coming from Glory,” Kyerion said.  “She has a very strong talent for Dream Walking but, if we work together, we might be strong enough to alter her projection.”

“It’s worth a try,” Kirk said, stepping to Kyerion’s right while Cade moved to his left.  Before they had a chance to begin, they were interrupted.

 “
Stop
!”  The voice was female, imperious, and spoke directly to their minds.  And it came from behind the door.  Not Glory, but vaguely familiar.  Kyerion tensed warily.

“Who speaks?”

“You do not recognize me, Kelt Kyerion, High Druid of Clan Tigren?”

Kyerion opened his mouth to deny recognition when suddenly he
did
remember.  He lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head, relieved when his brothers followed his lead without hesitation.  “Kelta Zainlea, Guardienne of Druids, we greet you.”

“Rise Kelt Kyerion, Kelt Kirkeon, Kelt Cadeon,”
Zainlea said.  They rose to their feet and took several steps back from the door to give the ancient guardian of Clan Tigren room to show herself. 
“Long have I waited for this moment,”
she said, her voice growing closer as she spoke. 
“I confess, there were times I feared it would never arrive.  In truth, it very nearly did not.”

“Is it true, Kelta Zainlea, that we are the last of Clan Tigren?” Kyerion asked.

“The last of pure Clan Tigren blood, yes, it is so,”
she replied, her voice vibrating with sadness. 
“Thanks only to your Mother, there are some with Tigren blood scattered here and there among the Thousand Worlds.”

“Our mother?” Kyerion asked in surprise.

“Yes,”
Zainlea said.
  “After your disappearance, she managed to convince a few members of Clan Tigren to leave Ugaztun before it was too late.  Her efforts were heroic, but in large part, they failed.  It is to you three that the task of resurrecting Clan Tigren, as well as the knowledge and power of the Druids, now falls.”

“Why are you within Glory’s mind, Kelta Zainlea?” Kyerion asked just as the door suddenly grew to enormous proportions.  It swung open just long enough for an orange and black tigrenca to walk through it, then it shrank back to its original size, though the Tigren barely noticed.  Their eyes were fixed on the tigrenca, Kelta Zainlea herself.

Zainlea was huge for a female, but then, she was the Guardienne.  She paced back and forth between them and the door which was no longer ajar, but closed tightly as it had always been.  She towered over them, twice their height at her shoulder, her blue eyes gazing down at them as though she could see straight through them to the soul they shared between them. 

“I am here to warn you,”
she said, answering Kyerion’s question. 
“Under normal circumstances I would not interfere in a matter such as this.  I would leave your choices and the results of them in the hands of the Fates.  But these are not normal circumstances.  Too much is at stake to leave everything to chance.”
 

She sat down on her haunches, wrapped her long tail around her feet, and reduced her size so that she met them eye to eye. 
“For the sake of your sanity, Gloriani’s life, and the future of Clan Tigren, you must not cross the threshold behind me.”

“That sounds dire indeed,” Kyerion said, a fist squeezing his heart with fear.  What could possibly be hidden behind this door in Glory’s mind to warrant such caution?

“I failed this woman,”
Zainlea said on a long sigh filled with regret and sadness. 
“Once it became clear that, in spite of your Mother’s efforts, you were the last of Clan Tigren in all the universe, I set myself to watch over you.  To keep you safe from harm throughout the millennia as you waited to be awakened.  My vigil went uninterrupted until one day, not long ago, when I heard a distant plea from one who carries more Tigren blood than not.
 
Curious, I responded, and discovered the child that Gloriani once was. The moment I laid eyes upon her I understood that she was the means by which you would be freed from your Xanti prison, but by then she had lived unprotected for nine years, and I had already failed her greatly.”

“You are filling us with dread, Kelta Zainlea,” Kyerion said.

“Good,”
she replied sharply, her lip curling to reveal her fangs. 
“That’s my intent.  You absolutely must not attempt to enter this dark place without a buffer.”

“Why not?”

“
Because Gloriani really is your Arima,”
Zainlea said, gentling her tone
.  “If you witness the things she suffered as a child, it would do more than send you into blood rages.  It would break your minds.”

“Even more reason for us to go in and retrieve her,” Kirk said.  “If she was strong enough to survive it with her mind intact, then so are we.”

“But she was
not
strong enough,”
Zainlea said.  “
That is my point.  When first I saw her, her sanity hung by the slenderest of threads.  She has just enough Clan Tigren blood in her veins that I was able, barely, to erect thin barriers in her mind to block the most vicious of her memories.  It was no easy feat, nor was it a complete solution.  It was necessary that she be taught to build the door you see behind me for the rest. 

“You can have no idea of the horrors Gloriani has kept locked within the space behind that door in her mind.  Now, her conscious mind is trapped in there among those memories, and she is unable to escape, though she tries.  If you do not help her, she will be forever lost, yet you dare not go in after her.”

“The Glory we know is strong and courageous,” Kyerion said.  “Perhaps those things that broke the mind of a child would not do the same to the woman she has become.”

“Perhaps,”
Zainlea agreed. 
“But it doesn’t change the fact that you can not go in there after her.  If you three are lost, you take with you the last hope for Clan Tigren and, in time, all Klanaren.”

“No matter how well hidden, those memories are a shadow that will one day darken her mind and soul anyway,” Kirk said.  “At some point, they will need to be faced.  Now is as good a time as any.”

“As our Arima, her health and well-being come before all others,” Cade said.  “We have no choice but to rescue her, and to heal her, Kelta Zainlea.  Thanks to you, we will go forewarned.  That should help.”

“Not without a buffer,”
Zainlea insisted.  She looked into the eyes of the Tigren, shook her head and sighed. 
“You truly do not understand of what I speak.  I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I see that it’s necessary.  I’ll show you one memory, and one only, and a mild one, at that.  Once you see reason, I will tell you the rest.”

“Agreed,” Kyerion said.

“Then watch,”
Zainlea said.  Kyerion felt his mind tilt, then blur as images, unidentifiable thoughts and memories spun through him at a dizzying speed.  Suddenly, without warning, everything stopped.  He blinked, his eyes clearing slowly as he fought to bring his surroundings into focus.  He looked down, and saw, far below…,