The Last of the Ageless (61 page)

“Korreth is right about Gryid.” Jorrim’s words came slowly. “Korreth, I’m going to stay here, so it doesn’t make sense for me to take the pendant. It’s yours if you want it.”

He held out a hand, and Korreth clasped it with a firm grip. Meeting his friend’s gaze, he couldn’t believe that after all their time together, this was goodbye.

“Farewell to the rest of you, as well.” Jorrim tipped his head. Without another word, he headed toward Searchtown. Korreth hoped the sentries wouldn’t mistake him for an intruder in the darkness.

Dalan sat down beneath the tent and took a long swig from a canteen the townspeople had provided. Korreth seated himself opposite the boy, and the others followed suit. Only Gryid remained standing. He put a hand on Korreth’s shoulder. “Thank you for saving my life.” He smiled. “That’s not something an Ageless says very often.”

Korreth nodded, not knowing what to say. And he still hadn’t decided whether to take the pendant from Ti’rros. He’d seen the horrors those pendants had wrought, and even with the Wizard dead, he couldn’t quite bring himself to touch the thing.

Gryid took a deep breath. “I have always tried to share my knowledge with the people of my tribe. But what I’m about to do is blasphemy, and completely against the Prophet’s Mandate, at least as I interpret it. Liang wronged you with the technology we meant to safeguard, so I’m going to try this for you. Ti’rros, please let me take the amplifier.”

The Ageless placed the amplifier on a box the townspeople had left behind. He took a clear vial from his clothing and removed the stopper, and then poured the solution over the amplifier, which began smoking and shrinking. The pink stone transformed into a black liquid, ran down the side of the box, and pooled on the ground before absorbing into the grasslands’ soil.

Nyr and Dalan immediately tried to pull the pendants over their heads, but to no avail.

Gryid replaced the stopper and looked at each of them. “As long as it still existed, a mystic could’ve abused it as the Wizard once did. Now, Ti’rros, try to see from one of the devices again. Without the amplifier, it may require deeper concentration.”

Ti’rros closed her eyes. The hairs on her head ceased undulating.

“Yes. Yes, I can still do it.” She opened her eyes. “My ancestors… they used them to explore new lands?”

“I believe so, though in their case, it would’ve been to explore new seas, which would explain why they needed to make them so difficult to remove.” Gryid frowned. “The Prophet never gave me the amplifier, so I was unaware that such a thing existed until after Liang found it. The devices themselves seem to have been part of a long-range communication network. The amplifiers must have extended the range, perhaps so they could communicate between ships.”

Korreth observed everyone’s expressions as they each puzzled out Gryid’s words and his reasons for telling them all this.

“Before the battle,” Dalan said, “Caetl told me that the Advisor, Kaia, wasn’t our enemy. Also said we could trust Gryid.”

Gryid held up the vial, which contained a third of the solution. “It’s up to you. I believe I have enough to destroy one or two more of the devices, though we would have to be careful not to get any of the solution on you. I can make more, if necessary.”

Nyr uncrossed her legs and sat on her ankles. Several emotions warred for dominance on Dalan’s face.

“Or,” Gryid said, “we can all keep them. They would be good in an emergency—we could try to help each other if nearby. With practice and concentration, we can both see and hear through each other’s devices, allowing effective two-way communication.”

Nyr raised an eyebrow, and then winced as her wounds stretched. “I don’t like the thought of you being able to see and hear what I’m doing all the time.”

Gryid’s lips turned up in a humorless smile. “If you choose to keep your devices, we’ll just have to find pouches to cover them up and muffle the sound. But remember that when your device is muffled, you won’t be able to communicate through it either. But like I said, you can still destroy them, if you choose. I can make up another batch of the solution for each of you. Though, it is dangerous.”

Nyr pointed out in the field. “Gryid, go over there. Let’s see if this actually works.”

The Ageless man walked away from them toward the dying fire, humming to himself. Dalan, Nyr, and Ti’rros all closed their eyes. Korreth remained silent, listening to the calming sound of crickets. He glanced at each of their pendants and their glowing dots.

Nyr’s brow furrowed with concentration. “Ti’rros…” she said through her teeth.

“It is difficult the first time,” the hybrid explained. “It takes concentration, so please remain silent for a few minutes.”

Korreth found himself holding his breath as the three of them sat still. Dalan opened his eyes and nodded. Then he and Ti’rros waited for Nyr.

She cracked open an eye. When she saw Dalan and Ti’rros studying her, she smiled sadly. “Caetl was right—I’m too single-minded for this stuff.”

Gryid came back in their direction as Ti’rros said, “There will be plenty of time to practice.”

Dalan’s brown eyes flicked to Korreth. “Realized a while back that we’d become something almost like a small clan of our own. Have only known you for a short time, and Gryid even shorter, but if you take the necklace, I swear to come if you call.”

“And I,” Nyr said, glancing at Dalan and Ti’rros and nodding at Korreth. She smirked at Gryid. “Even for you, Ageless.”

The Joey’s deep blue eyes met Korreth’s next, and for the first time, he recognized an expression on her stoic face: ambition, where once she had been driven only by duty to Dalan. “And I as well.”

Gryid bounced his pendant in his palm. “I, too, give each of you my word that I will come if you call.”

Ti’rros held Caetl’s pendant out to Korreth once more, its stony surface inert compared to the others. Korreth thought back over everything that had happened and wondered if anyone in his tribe would ever believe his story. Perhaps being able to talk to people who’d seen what he had would help maintain his sanity and serve as proof.

Korreth reached out and took the pendant.

Epilogue

Dalan zipped through the canopy, letting the leaves slap his beak and wings. He dipped and flapped recklessly close to the trees, but he was home. He wanted nothing more than to see his family again.

A tendril of thought touched Dalan’s mind, but not from Saquey.
Dalan? Dalan!

Dalan snagged a branch and folded his wings. He’d expected the sentinels to be the first to greet him, but he hadn’t expected that sentinel to be his sister Shemir.

He let her feel his joy through the mental connection.
Returned at last.

In return, she showed him her relief.
Joktinn kept saying you were the one to disappear this year.

Has everyone else returned?

Yes! A long time ago.
The mourning dove flapped down to land next to him.
Come on, everyone will want to hear what kept you.

Will be a long story.
He gave her a glimpse, and she launched from her perch.

Go on ahead. Can fly faster.

Dalan’s desire to see everyone else overpowered him, and he flapped onward. He felt other minds touch his and recognized them as other sentinels.

Before long, news of his return traveled ahead of him. His tribemates gave him hearty welcomes as he passed. Three raptors surprised him, dominated by the large golden eagle, Dalan’s father Lethan. The other two birds were Mishnir and their mother Trudel. Their relief was palpable, caressing Dalan’s feathers like a warm updraft in the drylands.

Dalan, where have you been? Are you alright? What happened?
Their thoughts bombarded him, and theirs weren’t the only ones. Other tribemates and extended family approached from every direction, inundating him with emotional resonance.

Is a long story. Am fine.
Dalan found a perch for himself, and his parents did the same.

The cacophony of dragonflies’ wings surrounded them, but when Saquey joined Dalan, the other dragonflies all found trees to cling to. They stilled their wings in respect for their new comrade before returning to their noisy hovering.

Who did you bring back with you, son?
Trudel asked, as was polite when a child returned home an adult bonded to a dragonfly.

Is Saquey.
Dalan flashed them a mental image of his and Saquey’s first moments together. As though sensing the attention, Saquey sent him an image of rodents on the forest floor, and his stomach gurgled. He let the dragonfly go on ahead to find some prey.

Must be thirsty,
his father said.
Let’s go back home and you can tell us what happened there.

Need to talk to the elders too,
Dalan put weight into his words, letting everyone listening know he’d discovered things that could impact their tribe’s future.

Good, because the elders wish to conduct your ceremony tonight,
a faint voice said. Dalan’s grandmother had projected her thoughts over a much longer distance than he could. Her thought had also shown him her location not far from the elder’s circle.

Let him get some food first!
Mishnir protested.
Is exhausted, I can tell.

We convene at sundown,
another of the elders whispered.

The crowd of birds and other climbing creatures around them dispersed at those words, their curiosity held in abeyance. Shemir joined them, and together, the siblings headed back to their parents’ house for a meal together.

Perhaps his last, once the elders found out how badly he’d broken the Ancient Teachings.

Alone in the clearing, Dalan stood in his birth form. Five dead trees formed the perimeter of the glade, and five omdecu clung to their trunks—the elders of his tribe. They climbed up and down the trees, searching for a comfortable spot. Their dragonflies hovered nearby.

Sundown this deep in the forest meant near complete darkness. As the rest of his tribemates filled the trees at the edge of the clearing, Dalan transmelded into the omdecu.

The physical changes didn’t hurt nearly as much as they had before he’d left the Omdecu Tribe. His vision improved as he transmelded into his secondary form, allowing him to distinguish the dragonflies’ colors now—the brightest being his grandmother’s vibrant red companion Sepp.

In minutes, a hundred or so omdecu and other creatures clung to trees deeper in the woods. He waited silently, trying to stifle the urge to look for his friend Joktinn. More tribemates came to witness his ceremony than he’d ever seen at past rites.

Saquey circled overhead before coming to rest beside him. Though he hadn’t realized how fast his heart had been beating before, Saquey’s presence calmed him.

His grandmother settled into position on one of the dead trees, which had never decayed in all the years he’d been alive. Only the sounds of dragonfly wings and the wind whipping through the trees disturbed the clearing—a storm was coming. Saquey rose up to swoop around the glade, as happy as Dalan to be home.

He glanced at each of the elders in turn—Dalleka on the far left, his grandmother Gavainya on the tree next to her, Sinnach in the middle, Heidhi on the right, and Tarran on the far right.

Have bonded with this dragonfly?
Everyone nearby could hear the elders’ thoughts.

In answer, Dalan opened his mind and sent an image of himself first seeing Saquey on the offerings in the drylands. He imitated the elders’ method of broadcasting the thoughts to the area rather than toward a particular mind. He showed his people how Saquey had joined him in battle with the felines, and felt collective gasps ripple through his audience. Then he sent the sound of Saquey’s name.

Saquey,
the elders’ voices echoed in his mind. Everyone else remained silent.

The name of my son Athegal’s dragonfly,
Gavainya said. The subtext of her words said,
Family. Honor. Mortality.
Because intention and connotation could be more easily felt than said, no one overexplained while transmelded.

Then you are an adult,
the other elders said.
Man. Declare it so.

Most of the rest of his tribe mentally spoke more clearly than the elders did. Dalan supposed that acting, thinking, and talking together for so long made the elders’ mental speech less defined.

He let his doubts and anxieties seep through as he directed his thoughts into words,
Am I? Before leaving, given a goal: to solve a problem. Only created more.

Though he couldn’t unravel his thoughts and images of his travels, the elders absorbed them.

Sinnach told him,
Wait.

His grandmother sent him reassurances and a distracted,
Wait,
as though his unbridled thoughts and feelings were interrupting her while she tried to talk to someone else.

Show us more
, they said a moment later.
So long. Lost. Dead. Afraid. Unbelievable. Gone, s
aid the subtext of their directed thoughts. He felt their suspicion, their dread at the implications of some of his thoughts.