Root (Energy Anthology) Read online

  Had The Remnant left him as well?

  Lam shoved these thoughts from his mind. He could not handle if even they had gone. If Ch’kara did not survive this, he would truly be alone. Looking down at her face again, he was overcome with both a feeling of love for her and the fear of losing her. Tears streamed down his face as the emotions formed a whirlwind within him.

  Suddenly, Lam stopped in his tracks. He struggled to control and silence his labored breathing as he tilted his head and listened intently to the sounds around him.

  Had that been voices he’d just heard?

  Now that he stood still, Ch’kara’s weight pulled at his arms. He strained to maintain a tight hold on her yet remain aware of the forest around him.

  A low tone reached his ears, briefly rising, then falling, definitely the sound of voices speaking— and growing louder.

  Lam searched his surroundings in alarm. He dashed behind a fallen tree and carefully laid Ch’kara on the ground behind it before laying beside her himself. He grabbed a branch of thick fern leaves and pulled it across the top of them just as the source of the voices came into view.

  Peeking over the tree log, Lam saw three heads moving slowly along. They spoke softly to each other. Their manner seemed to be calm, yet cautious, as if aware things could change at any moment.

  Lam raised himself a bit more to try to see the people’s clothing. If these were Gildok, he knew he may end up having to fight, and he wasn’t sure he had the strength left for that.

  The people abruptly stopped and turned his direction. Lam quickly dropped fully behind the log, cursing under his breath. Had they heard him? He shut his eyes tight and held his breath, listening.

  After moments of nothing but the natural sounds of the forest, he began to wonder if they had moved on, but he had not heard any footsteps. He willed his body to relax its tension, and wait a bit longer.

  Strong hands suddenly grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. Beside him, Ch’kara’s body was lifted as well. Lam released a shout as loud as his hoarse voice would allow, and began swinging his fists and kicking his feet. A second pair of hands quickly caught his legs and held him fast. He bucked and twisted and screamed all the more.

  “Whoa, whoa!” one of the men said. “Easy! We will not hurt you, son of Ric’ua!”

  Lam grew still and took his first close look at the men. He recognized the one holding his legs from the grove field. The one holding Ch’kara’s unconscious body also looked vaguely familiar. He could not clearly see the man holding his own upper body, but he saw the clothing they wore were from his own village.

  “You are the son of Ric’ua?” asked the one holding Ch’kara.

  “I know he is,” replied the one holding Lam’s arms, before he could respond for himself, “And that one you hold is the daughter of my brother!”

  It was Terlikk, the neighbor who had offered them his home when fire had been set to their own! “I thought all had perished…” Lam whispered, sinking into the man’s arms.

  “We are very much alive,” Terlikk laughed sadly, “And were afraid you were the ones who were dead!”

  “But… how did you escape the Gildoks?”

  The man who held his feet answered as he set them down. “We were nearest the edge of our village clearing when they attacked, yet still we barely escaped with our lives.”

  “What has happened to my niece?” Terlikk asked.

  Lam was grateful to see the one who held Ch’kara was now supporting her head. “We were with the Shen-Ma when we heard the village was being attacked again. Ch’kara stayed with the Shen-Ma while I ran to help defend the people.” He sank to the ground again, and leaned against the fallen tree.

  “I was too late.”

  Terlikk sat on the log beside him, and placed a gentle hand on Lam’s shoulder as he continued. “There were bodies everywhere, I thought the whole village had been murdered. I ran for my own home, and,” a sob escaped him, “Found my mother was among the… gone.”

  “I am sorry for your loss,” Terlikk said softly.

  Lam nodded his thanks and inhaled deeply before continuing. “Ch’kara was waiting for me when I came out from covering my mother. She bore news of the Shen-Ma’s fate, which she revealed to me before collapsing herself.”

  Terlikk heaved a sigh a relief. “That is at least one fortunate thing from this cursed day. My fear was Ch’kara had been infected by the Gildok potion as well. She will be all right after a rest then, I believe.” He motioned to the man holding her. “Lay her back down, Feltin. You and Julak put together a cradle. We can carry her with us easier that way.”

  Turning back to Lam, he asked, “You are saying the Shen-Ma is gone as well?”

  Lam nodded.

  Terlikk’s head dropped. “Was it the Gildoks?”

  “No, I don’t think so, but I don’t know any more than Ch’kara told me. You know how the Gildoks killed our people without shedding their blood? You said they had a potion?”

  “Yes,” Terlikk nodded. “It had been said they had an alchemist among them, but it was not taken seriously.” He sighed once again. “Yet I saw with my own eyes more of that cursed tribe than I have ever seen in one place before, rushing into our village and splashing a potion in the faces of every man, woman, and child they could find.” He visibly shuddered and wiped tears from his face. “Each one the potion touched instantly and silently dropped to the ground, and moved no more.

  “Now I believe they had an alchemist.”

  “Were…” Lam hesitated. “Were your mate and children…”

  Terlikk looked away.

  “I’m sorry,” Lam said softly.

  Julak and Feltin returned, dragging a sled of large leaves they had quickly woven together.

  “We should keep moving, Terlikk. We need to get back to the others before nightfall.”

  Lam looked up. “Others? You’re not the only ones who escaped?”

  “No, there are ten of us,” Feltin replied.

  “And now there are twelve,” Terlikk corrected.

  Lam nearly smiled.

  “A remnant.”

  • THIRTEEN •

  The more Lam thought about all that had happened, the angrier he became.

  By the time they had reached the camp, his entire body had gone stiff and rigid. He felt heat all through his veins, and had an intense urge to take action. He kept his full feelings and thoughts to himself, and the others assumed he was merely saddened by the loss of his mother. They allowed him the space to process the emotions.

  Those who had escaped the village had set up camp just outside a cave hidden behind a curtain of dozime vines. So the fires could also be hidden inside the shelter and not attract unwanted attention, someone had climbed nearly to the top of the hanging vines, and chopped a hole in them to allow the smoke from the fires an outlet.

  Lam had been welcomed warmly, and there had been rejoicing that more of their people had been found. Stories and perspectives were swapped around the fire as the group got to know each other better with these new circumstances they found themselves in. Ch’kara had been laid nearby, and Lam checked on her constantly, but still she slept on. Discussions about what was expected to happen and what should be done next were held, and the opinions and ideas of everyone present were listened to with respect. Lam found he was very grateful for the sense of unity with these people. The shared experience had formed an instant bond among them. It was as if they were a little family. He remembered that was what it had been like within The Remnant as well, after the loss of their society.

  Finally, the talking came to an end, and each of the twelve began to find a comfortable place to stretch out for the night. It was decided that one of them should remain awake through the night and keep watch. They did not know if the Gildoks knew some had escaped their cruelty or not, but if the violent tribe did know they had escaped, it had to also be expected they were out hunting for them. Feltin volunteered to keep watch this first night, though he had been
on foot searching the nearby forest with Terlikk and Julak most of the day.

  Even when all was quiet and still, Lam found he could not sleep. Laying protectively beside Ch’kara, his mind raced, and his emotions insisted that something be done. His new memories told him he had seen this happen again and again. It seemed as if everything everywhere merely repeated itself. Mirrors of mirrors, patterns of patterns— even in societies ages and worlds apart.

  There had to be a way to stop the cycles.

  He thought of The Remnant. He thought of his origins. He thought of who he was, who he had become, and what had happened now. He now knew he was not like the others. He truly had not come from this place. But he was in this place now, and what happened here affected him just as much as the others.

  The Shen-Ma had seen him to be a Seed, and his people in the cloud had confirmed it. What did that mean? What could he do?

  The continuation of his original society depended on him, and now perhaps this mirrored remnant he was now a member of depended on him as well. They were the representation and all that was left of their village, weren’t they?

  But what was he to do?

  By daylight, Lam had reached the decision he could not not do something. He was not from here, and therefore should have the benefit of that working to his advantage.

  He would avenge the village.

  He would make the Gildok tribe pay for what they did to his mother.

  Ch’kara woke after they had all eaten their fill of gurja fruit and other berries they had found nearby, and were deciding the goals for the day. Lam was at her side in an instant. He found himself genuinely smiling for the first time as he looked down on her.

  “Where… Where are we?” she asked.

  “We’ve taken shelter in a cave,” Lam replied. “Ten others survived the raid, and have taken us in. Your uncle is here.”

  “Thank you for not leaving me,” she whispered.

  “Thank you for not leaving me,” he whispered in return.

  “Ch’kara!” Terlikk knelt opposite Lam. “How are you feeling, dear niece?”

  She nodded as she took Lam’s hand to raise and sit. “Much better, Uncle.”

  Terlikk placed his hand on her shoulder. “I am relieved to find you are not only alive but well— I have survived yet another Gildok attack, but I may not have survived the wrath of my brother if I had lost his only child!”

  Ch’kara broke into a smile as she twisted to embrace him. “I am the Shen-Ma,” she said. “It will take more than that to be rid of me now.”

  “The Shen…” Terlikk and Lam spoke at once, in wonder.

  The young woman nodded mischievously.

  “Then,” Terlikk said, “The Shen-Ma was not killed?”

  She shook her head.

  “She passed.”

  “But how did she pass on?” Lam asked.

  Ch’kara fully giggled now as Terlikk solved her game. “The Shen-Ma did pass on,” he said, “But furthermore, she passed— to Ch’kara!”

  She lowered her eyes and sighed. “I grew very close to her in the short time I had with her, and am heartbroken she is no longer with us,” she looked up and met Lam’s eyes. “But one thing I do know is there are greater things to be done. When Lam embraced who he was, and what he came to do, I felt all else click into place as well. I knew then that I, too, was ready for what I am here to do.”

  “And what is that?” asked Lam. She merely smiled and stared into the distance.

  “Well, I imagine we’ll all find out soon enough,” her uncle said. “Why don’t you go see if the others need any assistance, Lam, and let us discuss some of our family matters. We’ve lost so much…”

  Lam bowed as they had in the grove field, and left them to their talk. His eyes went immediately to the skies as he exited the cave. The cloud was still not overhead. Where had they gone? Why had The Remnant abandoned him, especially now that he remembered and accepted he had come from them?

  He wandered deeper in the forest. When he thought he had gone far enough from the others, he climbed to the top of a tree and shouted into the sky, “WHERE ARE YOU? WHY HAVE YOU LEFT ME? WHY DO I NO LONGER HAVE YOUR SUPPORT??”

  Tears welled in his eyes as a mixture of sadness and anger boiled in his stomach. He felt utterly alone. He had Ch’kara, who seemed as if she intended to stay with him, but still, he was different. He could not shake the sinking feeling that he would always be alone in that way.

  “SHOW YOURSELVES!!” he screamed as the anger once again reached a peak.

  No response was given.

  Lam climbed back to the ground, and headed back toward the cave in both disgust and a new resolve.

  He was a member of The Remnant, a Cherisher from another star system. It was not only his duty to carry on the memory and knowledge of his people, it was expected of him. If the others of The Remnant had now left, then the entire fate of his society rested completely on him. He would transfer all the knowledge he had to the village remnant, and merge the customs of the two. His people would live on among these people.

  Ch’kara met him a short distance from the camp. She stood looking tall and strong, completely refreshed. In her right hand she held a walking stick the height of her head.

  They stood facing each other silently for a few moments, communicating with their eyes in almost the same way he had communicated with the others in the cloud. A calmness and understanding seemed to pass between them, and Lam felt a bond unmistakably present.

  Finally, he motioned toward her walking stick. “You are the new Shen-Ma then,” he said. “That is very much like the one the old Shen-Ma had.”

  “I am the Shen-Ma, Lam, and yet I am also still Ch’kara.” She reached out and laid her palm to his cheek. “Her essence passed to me. I bear her memories as well.”

  Images of the cherishing he and the others had done within his own society flashed through Lam’s mind. The collecting of knowledge for the purpose of carrying on that knowledge seemed similar to what Ch’kara was saying had been done here.

  He simply smiled in understanding as she took his arm, and together they walked toward the cave.

  “You know it will be dangerous,” Ch’kara said just before they reached the cave. Lam stopped and looked at her. “To go back, for any reason.”

  He chuckled that she had read his mind just as the Shen-Ma used to, but nodded. “I know.”

  “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  Lam held her hand as they joined the others.

  • FOURTEEN •

  “That is not a good idea.”

  Terlikk crossed his arms in front of his chest to emphasize his seriousness as several others voiced their agreement. As they sat around the fire once again after a day of scouting and gathering, Lam had expressed his feelings and his plans to go after the Gildoks.

  “That is foolishness,” Terlikk stated, “And asking for danger.”

  Lam had been prepared for the others to not agree with him. It had been the same with the others of The Remnant. But, as with that greater mirror, he simply could not bring himself to take what felt like unnecessary risks for the larger whole, even if it meant risk to himself. He felt responsible for others— his people, and these people, who were now his people. He was not about to let another society be destroyed as his own had been. He knew that if the Gildoks were left untouched, that is exactly what would happen.

  Terlikk saw Lam was unmoved by both his words and his body language, and relaxed his posture. “Lam,” he said. “To go into such a situation without a base support— without the root support of your people— would be to meet your end for sure.

  “It would be inviting it to you.”

  Lam stared silently into the fire. Ch’kara placed her hand on his leg, yet still he said nothing.

  “It is your decision, your action, and your life,” Terlikk sighed, “And no one will argue your will. You have been through so much— much more than the rest of us, and we cannot possibly understand your min
d. But we would very much like you to stay with us.” Lam finally looked up at the man. “My niece especially would prefer you here,” he smiled.

  Lam nodded, countless thoughts swaying his mind one way, then another.

  “We are all exhausted,” a woman Lam knew as the village seamstress spoke up. “Let’s all get some rest, and see how things feel in the morning.”

  Terlikk took the guard duty, and the others bedded down for the night.

  Some time after the others had fallen asleep, Ch’kara crept very close to Lam. Slipping under his animal skin covering with him, she placed one arm and one leg over him. “My uncle was right,” she whispered in his ear. “I wish you would stay here. I want you to stay with me.”

  Lam wrapped his arms around her, and she wiggled fully on top of him, spreading her body along his. He found this felt wonderful, both inside and outside of his body. Another sort of electricity began coursing through his system, quite pleasantly.

  She rested her head on his chest. “I hear your heart here. It speaks of faraway lands, as well as lands nearer to us.” Ch’kara lifted her head and looked into his eyes. He saw that her eyes were moist with tears.

  “There is a place for us here, Lam,” she breathed. “It is what was meant to be— I feel that in my heart.”

  Lam nodded as tears formed in his own eyes.

  “Yet,” she continued, “I can also see the other line of time…”

  “The other line?” he asked.

  A tear caught the firelight as it escaped her eye and dropped to his chest. “The line you will choose. The line that will take you from me.”

  “Ch’kara, Ch’kara,” he lifted a hand and stroked her hair. “No, I will come back to you. I will make things right in this place, and return to you to stay from then on!”

  She stifled a sob, and shook her head. “No,” she said. “No…”

  He raised his head and pressed his lips to hers. She returned the kiss with an intensity that sent the electricity in his body to new levels.

  “Yes, dear one, I will.”

  She shook her head and kissed him again, long and hard, without ever taking her eyes from his.