His voice is open wide with pain and horror at what he sees–
The pain and horror he always feels–
The pain and horror that always threatens to topple him over–
But never does.
“Yer alive,” he says, and he is so relieved, so happy, to see me in the middle of all that death where I am alone and alone and alone for ever, he is so happy that I vow to kill him–
And then he asks me about his own one in particular–
Asking if, among all the killing of my own kind, I have seen one of his–
And my vow becomes unbreakable–
I show him I will kill him–
In the weakness of my returning voice, I show him I will kill him–
And I will–
I will do it now, I will do it right now–
You are safe, says a voice–
I am on my feet, my fists swinging in panic.
They are caught easily by the Sky in his larger hands, and as I pull back from the shock of the dream, I nearly topple off the outcropping. He has to catch me again, but his hand grabs the band and I cry out as he pulls me upright, his voice instantly surrounding the pain in mine, wrapping it away, lessening it, holding it until the fire in my arm calms down.
It remains so painful? the Sky asks gently in the language of the Burden.
I am breathing heavily, from the surprise of being woken, from the surprise of finding the Sky near me, from the surprise of the pain. It does, is all I can show for the moment.
I am sorry we have been unable to heal it, he shows. The Land will redouble its efforts.
The Land’s efforts are better used elsewhere, I show. It is a poison of the Clearing, meant for their animals. It is probably only within their power to cure.
The Land learns much in the ways of the Clearing, the Sky shows. We hear their voice even when they do not hear ours. And we learn. His voice rises with real feeling. We will save the Return.
I do not need saving, I show.
You do not want saving, which is a different matter. One which will also occupy the Land.
The pain in my arm is easing and I rub my face, trying to wake myself up.
I did not mean to sleep, I show. I wish never to sleep until the Clearing are gone from here.
And only then will your dreams know peace? the Sky shows, bemused.
You do not understand, I show. You cannot.
Again, I feel the warmth of him encircling my voice. The Return is incorrect. The Sky can share the past in the Return’s voice, that is the nature of the voice of the Land, that all experience is as one, that nothing is forgotten, that all things are–
It is not the same as being there, I interrupt, conscious again of the rudeness. A memory is not the thing remembered.
He pauses again, but the warmth remains. Perhaps not, he finally shows.
What is it that you want? I show, a bit too loud, feeling shamed by his kindness.
He places a hand on my shoulder and we look out to the Land stretched beneath us down the road, on the right to the very tip of the hill that looks out over the Clearing, on the left back as far as can be seen, past a bend in the river and farther beyond that, I know.
The Land rests, shows the Sky. The Land waits. Waits for the Return.
I show nothing.
You are one of the Land, he shows. However separate you feel now. But that is not all the Land waits for this day.
I look over to him. Is there a change? Will we be attacking?
Not yet, he shows, but there are a number of ways to fight a war.
And then he opens his voice and shows me what is seen in the eyes of others in the Land–
Of others in the light of the newly rising sun as it reaches the deeper valley–
And I see.
I see what is to come.
And I feel my own small flicker of warmth.
{VIOLA}
“Can you think of a safer place, my girl?” Mistress Coyle says.
After Simone’s call, Acorn and I rode fast straight back to the hilltop.
Where the Answer now makes camp.
The cold sun is rising on an open area filled with carts and people and the first makings of campfires. They’ve already organized a mess tent where Mistress Nadari and Mistress Lawson are busy coordinating supplies and rationing food, blue As still written across the front of their clothes and on a few scattered faces throughout the crowd. Magnus and other people I recognize are starting to set up tents, and I wave over at Wilf, who’s taking charge of the Answer’s animals. His wife Jane is with him, and she waves back so vigorously it looks like she might hurt herself.
“Your friends may not want to get involved in a war,” Mistress Coyle says, eating her breakfast on the back of the cart where she’s made her bed, parked near the bay doors of the scout ship. “But if the Mayor or the Spackle decide to attack, I’d imagine they’d be willing to protect themselves.”
“You’ve got some nerve,” I say angrily, still up on Acorn.
“Yes, I do have some nerve,” she says, taking another bite of porridge, “because some nerve is exactly what’s going to keep my people alive.”
“Until you decide to sacrifice them again.”
Her eyes flare at that. “You think you know me. You call me bad and evil and a tyrant and yes, I’ve made tough decisions, but they were decisions with only one aim, Viola. Getting rid of that man and returning to the Haven we had before. Not slaughter for its own sake. Not the sacrifice of good people for no reason. But, as it turns out, the same goal as you, my girl. Peace.”
“You’ve got a pretty warlike way of going about it.”
“I’ve got an adult way of going about it,” she says. “A way that isn’t nice or pretty, but that gets the job done.” She looks at someone behind me. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Simone says, coming down the ramp from the scout ship.
“How is he?” I ask her.
“Talking to the convoy,” she says, “seeing if they have any medical advice.” She crosses her arms. “None so far.”
“I don’t have any cure left,” Mistress Coyle says, “but there are natural remedies that can help take the edge off.”
“You stay away from him,” I say.
“I am a healer, Viola,” she says, “whether you like it or not. I’d even like to heal you, as I can see from a glance that you’re feverish.”
Simone looks at me, concerned. “She’s right, Viola. You don’t look well.”
“This woman is never going to touch me,” I say. “Ever again.”
Mistress Coyle sighs heavily. “Not even to let me make amends, my girl? Not even as a first peaceful gesture between us?”