quite unlike the quick soft tread of Hearba’s feet, or the more measured footfall of Valdo. Then the door hangings of Pomma’s chamber were pushed aside, and D’ol Genaa entered—alone.
There was a long painful silence. A silence that throbbed with fear and tension. It was Pomma who spoke first. “Where—where is Raamo—D’ol Raamo and D’ol Neric?”
“They will be here shortly,” D’ol Genaa said. “I had fewer duties this morning so I was able to leave the Temple a little early.” As she spoke D’ol Genaa smiled, a perfect gleaming smile that illuminated her dark beauty with a light that dazzled, but left behind it no warmth or comfort.
“I would like to speak to Teera alone for a few moments,” D’ol Genaa said. “Would you wait for us in the common room, Pomma?”
Pomma felt Teera’s hand on her arm, and she did not need to turn to see the silent plea that she knew would be in Teera’s eyes. “If you please, D’ol Genaa,” she faltered, “I would rather—I think Teera would rather—Teera could answer much better if I stayed with her.”
The dark eyes turned swiftly, and Pomma felt herself flinch before them. And when the Ol-zhaan took her gently but firmly by the arm, she allowed herself to be led from the chamber.
In the empty common room, Pomma stood for a moment, bewildered—unsure just how or why she had let herself be taken away from Teera. Then she ran to the entry way and looked out. Frantically she looked up and down the wide branchpath, desperately hoping for the arrival of Raamo and D’ol Neric. But although there were several people on the path, they were all dressed in the brightly colored shubas of the Kindar, and even in the far distance, Pomma could catch no glimpse of the shimmering white worn by the Ol-zhaan. A group of chattering children passed slowly, off on some free-day expedition, perhaps into the open forest to search for trencher beaks, but there was still no sign of Raamo and D’ol Neric. At last she whirled and ran headlong across the common room and halfway down the hallway, before she came to a sudden stop.
Only a few feet from the door to her chamber, she stood, poised on tiptoe, swaying forward as she urged herself to go on through the doorway, and then backward as she pictured the dark command in the eyes of D’ol Genaa. At last, she only crept forward until she was standing just outside the doorway, still concealed from view by the heavy tapestries that draped the entrance.
A voice was speaking, too softly for Pomma to make out the words, but it gasped and trembled and at times became choked with sobs. Then another voice spoke, soft but urgent. A pause—and a gasp, sharp and shocking—and a babble of wild frantic exclamations.
Tormented by indecision, Pomma put her hands over her ears to shut out the sound and spoke sternly to herself. “Go in,” she said. “Go in to Teera. She needs you.” But her Kindar training, ingrained, almost inborn, of respect and obedience to the Ol-zhaan was too great, and Pomma was still standing in the hallway when, a few minutes later, D’ol Genaa emerged from the nid-chamber leading Teera by the hand.
Teera’s face was wet with tears, but she smiled brightly, and it seemed to Pomma that she was receiving from Teera a wildly confusing jumble of thoughts and emotions. Uncertainly Pomma trotted after D’ol Genaa and Teera as they made their way across the common room.
“Where are you going, D’ol Genaa?” she pleaded. “Where are you taking Teera?”
At the doorway D’ol Genaa finally stopped and, turning to Pomma she said, “You must stay here, and when the others come tell them that we have gone on ahead. Tell them that Teera and I have gone on ahead to the forest floor.”
The heavy tapestries of the outer doorway fell behind them, and they disappeared from view before Pomma had time to wonder about a very strange thing that she was almost certain she had seen. Not only Teera’s eyes, but the dark
There was a long painful silence. A silence that throbbed with fear and tension. It was Pomma who spoke first. “Where—where is Raamo—D’ol Raamo and D’ol Neric?”
“They will be here shortly,” D’ol Genaa said. “I had fewer duties this morning so I was able to leave the Temple a little early.” As she spoke D’ol Genaa smiled, a perfect gleaming smile that illuminated her dark beauty with a light that dazzled, but left behind it no warmth or comfort.
“I would like to speak to Teera alone for a few moments,” D’ol Genaa said. “Would you wait for us in the common room, Pomma?”
Pomma felt Teera’s hand on her arm, and she did not need to turn to see the silent plea that she knew would be in Teera’s eyes. “If you please, D’ol Genaa,” she faltered, “I would rather—I think Teera would rather—Teera could answer much better if I stayed with her.”
The dark eyes turned swiftly, and Pomma felt herself flinch before them. And when the Ol-zhaan took her gently but firmly by the arm, she allowed herself to be led from the chamber.
In the empty common room, Pomma stood for a moment, bewildered—unsure just how or why she had let herself be taken away from Teera. Then she ran to the entry way and looked out. Frantically she looked up and down the wide branchpath, desperately hoping for the arrival of Raamo and D’ol Neric. But although there were several people on the path, they were all dressed in the brightly colored shubas of the Kindar, and even in the far distance, Pomma could catch no glimpse of the shimmering white worn by the Ol-zhaan. A group of chattering children passed slowly, off on some free-day expedition, perhaps into the open forest to search for trencher beaks, but there was still no sign of Raamo and D’ol Neric. At last she whirled and ran headlong across the common room and halfway down the hallway, before she came to a sudden stop.
Only a few feet from the door to her chamber, she stood, poised on tiptoe, swaying forward as she urged herself to go on through the doorway, and then backward as she pictured the dark command in the eyes of D’ol Genaa. At last, she only crept forward until she was standing just outside the doorway, still concealed from view by the heavy tapestries that draped the entrance.
A voice was speaking, too softly for Pomma to make out the words, but it gasped and trembled and at times became choked with sobs. Then another voice spoke, soft but urgent. A pause—and a gasp, sharp and shocking—and a babble of wild frantic exclamations.
Tormented by indecision, Pomma put her hands over her ears to shut out the sound and spoke sternly to herself. “Go in,” she said. “Go in to Teera. She needs you.” But her Kindar training, ingrained, almost inborn, of respect and obedience to the Ol-zhaan was too great, and Pomma was still standing in the hallway when, a few minutes later, D’ol Genaa emerged from the nid-chamber leading Teera by the hand.
Teera’s face was wet with tears, but she smiled brightly, and it seemed to Pomma that she was receiving from Teera a wildly confusing jumble of thoughts and emotions. Uncertainly Pomma trotted after D’ol Genaa and Teera as they made their way across the common room.
“Where are you going, D’ol Genaa?” she pleaded. “Where are you taking Teera?”
At the doorway D’ol Genaa finally stopped and, turning to Pomma she said, “You must stay here, and when the others come tell them that we have gone on ahead. Tell them that Teera and I have gone on ahead to the forest floor.”
The heavy tapestries of the outer doorway fell behind them, and they disappeared from view before Pomma had time to wonder about a very strange thing that she was almost certain she had seen. Not only Teera’s eyes, but the dark
Similar Books
