16

Though the morning air was growing colder each day, Leiard had chosen to hold Jayim’s lessons in the rooftop garden of the Bakers’ home. It had taken some time and persistence to convince Tanara not to interrupt them. She had initially assumed that she could bring them hot drinks without disrupting the lessons, so long as she didn’t speak. Leiard had told her firmly that her presence broke their concentration and she wasn’t to approach at all. After that she kept creeping up the staircase and peering at them every hour or so, and was disbelieving when he told her that this, too, was a distraction.

He wasn’t sure if he’d convinced her yet. To be sure, he had made a mental note of the average time between interruptions and paced his lessons accordingly. It was essential that they be left alone this morning, as he intended to teach Jayim the finer points of a mind link.

Opening his eyes, Leiard regarded his new student. Jayim’s chest fell in the slow, regular rhythm of a calming trance. A little of the boy’s former reluctance to learn the mind skills of Dreamweavers still remained, but Leiard didn’t expect all doubts to vanish overnight. Otherwise, Jayim was being attentive and working hard. His enthusiasm was for medicines and healing, and he was progressing well in those areas.

That was part of the reason Leiard had decided they would perform a mind link today: he wanted to see if they could pinpoint the source of Jayim’s aversion to developing his telepathic abilities. The other reason was so that Leiard could assert control over the link memories that were overlapping his own identity. He wasn’t sure what would happen to him if he didn’t. Would his sense of self continue to erode? Would his thoughts become a muddle of conflicting memories? Or would he begin to believe he was Mirar?

He did not intend to find out. Closing his eyes again, Leiard held out his hands.

“We gather tonight in peace and in pursuit of understanding. Our minds will be linked. Our memories shall flow between us. Let none seek or spy, or impose a will upon another. Instead, we shall become one mind. Take my hands, Jayim.”

He felt the boy’s slim fingers brush his, then grasp his hands. As Jayim sensed Leiard’s mind, he recoiled slightly. Leiard heard him take a deep breath, then reach out again.

At first there was only a sense of expectation. Leiard felt his companion’s nervousness and waited patiently. Soon, snatches of thought and memory flitted through Jayim’s mind. Previous lessons, Leiard saw. Embarrassment at private matters revealed. He found himself thinking back, to other links with adolescent boys and similar secrets unintentionally revealed.

:Do not try to block these memories, he advised. Blocking disrupts the link.

:But I don’t want to reveal them! Jayim protested.

:Nudge them aside. Try this: whenever you find your mind wandering in that direction, think of something else. Select an image or subject that is neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but which will lead your thoughts away.

:Like what?

:I list the medicines useful to babies.

To his credit, several such medicines sprang to Jayim’s mind. His thoughts soon returned to the former subject, however.

:Does this distraction work all the time?

:Most of the time.

:Do you use the same trick to stop yourself giving away other secrets—like those that Auraya tells you?

Leiard smiled.

:What makes you think Auraya tells me secrets?

:I sense that she has.

The boy was perceptive. Leiard sensed smugness.

:Could I trust you with those secrets? he asked.

Jayim was all curiosity and eagerness now. Of course he would keep whatever he learned to himself. He would never risk losing Leiard’s trust. Besides, if he did, Leiard would learn of it in the next memory link.

Then doubts crept in. What if he accidentally let something slip? What if someone tricked him into giving secrets away?

:Secrets are best kept secret, Leiard said. The more who know, the less secret they are. It is not distrust that keeps me from telling you, Jayim.

:You like Auraya, don’t you?

The abrupt change of subject made Leiard pause. It also stirred a mixture of emotions.

:Yes, he replied. She is a friend.

But he knew she was more than that. She was the child he had once taught, who had grown into a powerful, beautiful woman…

:You think she’s beautiful, Jayim stated. His amusement deepened. You fancy her!

:No! Her face came into his thoughts and he felt a familiar admiration suddenly sharpen into longing. Shocked, he pulled away from Jayim’s mind, breaking the link.

The boy said nothing. Leiard sensed smugness again. He ignored it.

I don’t desire Auraya, he told himself.

I’m afraid you do, another voice in his mind disagreed.

But she is young.

Not so young anymore.

She is a White.

All the more reason to desire her. The attraction of the forbidden is a powerful force.

No. Jayim has put the idea into my head. I do not desire her. Next time I meet Auraya I will feel just as I did before.

We’ll see.

Opening his eyes, Leiard saw that Jayim was watching him expectantly.

“Your secret is mine,” the boy said.

“There is no secret,” Leiard said firmly. “You proposed an idea I hadn’t considered. Now I have, and I believe you are wrong.”

The boy looked away and nodded, but he was obviously holding back a smile. Leiard sighed.

“Why don’t you fetch some hot drinks from your mother. We’ll have a rest, then begin again.”

Jayim nodded, then scrambled to his feet. Leiard watched him hurry away.

They say to teach a student is to be taught yourself. I only hope Jayim’s lesson proves to be wrong.

If I had known how soon the next Gathering was going to be, Tryss thought, I would never have made Drilli that promise.

The day after the trei-trei, the Speakers had announced that a Gathering would be held in four days. Drilli believed that they wanted to warn everyone about the birds, and Tryss figured she was probably right. That had left him little time to ready himself for presenting his harness. Now that the day of the Gathering had arrived, he could think of a thousand things he still needed to do, and another thousand that could go wrong.

He’d done all he could do in the short time he’d had. He’d practiced using the harness and blowpipe every day, avoiding duties at home and ignoring the scolding he’d received in return. His father’s disapproval lacked conviction, however, since Tryss always brought back meat for their dinner.

He could not bring back all of the animals he’d killed, however. It would have drawn too much attention to himself too early. Though he had managed to bring down another yern, he hadn’t dared carry back meat from such a large beast. Leaving it to the scavengers was the only option, and that had dampened his elation at his success.

He could not hunt yern as part of his demonstration.

The animals were too big to trap and transport to the Open. Drilli had suggested breem. They were small, quick and shy of humans, which meant they would probably stay within the half-circle of gathered Siyee, but they were still challenging enough that killing them with missiles from the air would impress most people.

Drilli had trapped several every day so Tryss could practice hunting them. She had also decorated the harness, painting it in bright colors so it would be more visible at a distance. He was finding he was not too comfortable with the idea of being the sole object of everyone’s attention at a Gathering, but when she pointed out that the paint actually drew more attention to the harness than to him he felt a little better.

He had moved the harness from the cave in which he’d been hiding it to his family bower this morning, keeping it concealed in a large string-reed sack. At Drilli’s urging he had explained to his parents what it was, and that he was going to show it to the Gathering that night. His parents’ reaction had been mixed. His mother couldn’t see why ordinary hunting methods weren’t good enough, but was excited by the thought of him presenting his ideas to the Gathering. His fattier, on the other hand, appeared impressed by the invention, but was worried about Tryss making a fool of himself—and his family.

As am I, Tryss thought wryly.

He was prepared to take that risk. Almost everything was in place, so he couldn’t back out now. He didn’t want to, anyway. Though the thought of the demonstration filled him with trepidation, Drilli’s confidence in him was infectious. Whenever he doubted, she was full of reassurances. He was ready. All that remained was to ask the Speakers for time to address the Siyee.

He’d left this to the last moment. Once he did, word would spread that he was going to demonstrate a hunting invention. He’d be plagued by questions and probably taunted by more than just his cousins.

The sun was low in the sky when he approached the Speakers’ Bower. The Siyee leaders were standing around the entrance and several regarded him suspiciously as he drew near them.

He hesitated, aware that his heart was racing and his stomach was fluttering with nervousness.

“May I talk to Speaker Sirri?” Tryss forced himself to ask. He looked through the bower entrance but could not see anything in the dark interior. A shadow moved into the opening and Speaker Sirri stepped out.

“Tryss. We have many important matters to discuss before the Gathering begins. Can this wait until tomorrow?”

“Not really,” he said, aware that other Speakers were staring at him disapprovingly. “I’ll be quick.”

She nodded, then shrugged. “Come in, then.”

Tryss’s heart skipped. He had never been inside the Speakers’ Bower before. With shaking legs he walked past her. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. The interior was plain and unadorned. A ring of stools stood at the center. He was pleased to see the room was empty of other Siyee.

“What is it, then, Tryss?”

He turned to face Speaker Sirri. For a moment he could not find his voice. She smiled, the skin around her eyes creasing, and he remembered that she was only one of his own tribe, selected by his own people, and he had no reason to be intimidated by her.

“I’ve made something,” he told her. “I want to show it to everyone tonight.”

“Your hunting harness?”

He stared at her in surprise. Her smile widened.

“Sreil told me about it. He said it had potential.”

“He did?” Tryss blurted out. He thought back to the day he’d brought down a yern with drug-tipped spikes months earlier. Sreil had said something… “Good try.” Tryss had assumed the boy had been mocking him. Perhaps he’d meant what he’d said.

“Yes,” Sirri replied. Her smile faded. “I have to warn you. It will take a lot to convince people. Nobody likes the idea of carrying anything heavy or—”

“It’s not heavy,” Tryss interrupted.

“—or being encumbered by something,” she continued. “You are sure this invention of yours works?”

He swallowed hard, then nodded.

“Then I’ll give you time to show it to us at the beginning of the Gathering. That gives you an hour to get ready. Is that enough?”

He nodded again.

“Then go.” She indicated the doorway.

Tryss hurried out. As the other Speakers turned to regard him, he realized he was grinning foolishly. He schooled his expression and walked away.

An hour! he thought. I thought I’d have to wait until the end of the Gathering. I had better tell Drilli, then get the harness.

Once he was clear of the dense forest around the Speakers’ Bower he leapt into the air. He flew down the Open to Drill’s family bower. Landing outside her home, he called her name. At once he heard voices arguing inside. After a moment she pushed through the door-hanging, grabbed his arm and drew him quickly away. He looked back to see her mother frowning at them from the entrance.

“Well? Did they say you could show the harness?” Drilli asked.

Tryss grinned. “Yes. But at the start, not the end like we thought. We’ve got less than an hour.”

Her eyes widened. “That soon?”

“Yes. You better get the breem ready while I get the harness.”

“No, I’ll need your help to carry them. We’ll get the harness first.”

They hurried to his family bower. Tryss was surprised to find it empty.

“My parents must have left early,” he told her. “They said they—”

The words he had been about to speak fled his mind as he saw what lay in the center of the bower.

Brightly colored pieces of wood were scattered across the floor. The strips of leather and gut that had bound the harness together lay in pieces. The blowpipe, so carefully painted by Drilli, had been crushed. The bag that had held the darts had been shredded, and even the darts had been broken, each one snapped in two.

Tryss stared at the fragments of his invention and felt as if his heart, too, was breaking into pieces.

“Who did this?” he heard himself saying in a wounded, incredulous voice. “Who would do something like this?”

“Your cousins,” Drilli said in a low voice. She shook her head. “It’s all my fault. They’re jealous of you. Because of me.”

She made a little choking sound, and he realized she was crying. Amazed that she could be so upset about something he had made—though with her help—he took a step toward her, then hesitantly put an arm around her shoulders. She turned toward him, her eyes shining with tears.

“I’m sorry.”

He drew her close. “It’s not your fault,” he told her, stroking her hair. “If you believe that, they win.”

She sniffed, then straightened and nodded. “They haven’t won yet,” she said firmly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “We’ll show them. We’ll show all of them. Just… not tonight.”

He looked at the remains of his harness and felt hurt and disappointment harden into a knot of anger deep inside. “Next time I’ll make two harnesses. Maybe three.”

“And I’ll get my cousins to keep an eye on Ziss and Trinn.”

“Better still, tie them up somewhere for the night.”

Drilli managed a smile. “Hang them by their ankles.”

“Next to a tiwi hive.”

“Covered in rebi juice.”

“After removing their clothes.”

“And their skin. With a seeding knife.”

“You’re scaring me now.”

Drilli’s smile was feral. She bent and picked up the splintered blowpipe. “Do you need any of this, to make another?”

“No.”

“Good.” She took a basket from a hanger, squatted and began gathering up the pieces. ,

“What are you going to do with them?”

She grimaced. “One of us has to tell the Speakers you won’t be demonstrating your harness. If I go, they’ll know someone else believes in you. And showing them this will convince them you weren’t messing them around.”

Tryss felt a heavy weight settle around him as the full effect of his cousins’ act became clear. The Speakers knew what he was working on. People would suspect he had blamed others for the failure of his invention—or lacked the courage to demonstrate it. He would be—

“You’d better find your parents and tell them.” Drilli straightened. “Be quiet about it and pretend everything’s normal.”

She hesitated, then stepped up to him. Her lips quirked into a smile, then she leaned forward and kissed him. He blinked in surprise, but as he began to kiss her back she moved away. She winked and pushed aside the door-hanging.

“I’ll see you there.”

And then she was hurrying away.