Etruscans by Morgan Llywelyn

echoed the Prophet.
    Marveling, Pepan realized he was in the presence of the most able of his race. Just when he needed them .
    Using his new-found ability to speak without words, he struggled to communicate his problem . There are two exiled women, Repana and her daughter, Vesi, who are very dear to me and are in great trouble. I want to help them, but I am new to this state of being, I do not know what abilities I may possess here. I ask you, my ancestors, to teach me. Help me to help my friends.

    Why should we involve ourselves? The women you name are not your wife and daughter , his warrior ancestor pointed out. They are not our bloodline. They have their own ancestors.
    But they are Rasne, Pepan argued , so we must share common ancestors.
    A multitude of voices debated among themselves. Then, sounding faintly amused, the female voice of the Prophet spoke from within the cloud. Some of us had many children. All rivers are born from the same rain.
    Pepan said eagerly, You will do as I ask then?
    Because you ask it, his father’s voice replied , and I could never refuse my sons anything.
    The voice of the Planner countered, If we do this, will you come with us afterward?
    Instinct told him he could not lie to the dead. I cannot say. I only know I cannot go to the Netherworld leaving things as they are.
    The Prophet intoned, You would not be the first who remained behind to conclude unfinished business.
    But will he come afterwards? someone demanded to know .
    Possibly. He is guided by love. The ability to love even after death is common to all hia and is the one emotion no siu can feel. Pepan invokes the love we bear him and asks us to extend it to those he loves. I say we shall.
    The cloud roiled and from its depths came the sounds of not three or four but hundreds of voices, some little more than animalistic grunts. Pepan could tell some mighty argument was taking place. He waited, unable to measure the passage of time in a world where time was not, until at last the Prophet spoke to him again. All things happen as they should , she said. Lead us .
    It was easier to move now that he had had some practice. He still had no sense of direction however, and when the Prophet bade him to lead them he was momentarily
uncertain. Then he heard once more that lovely, distant music and followed it eagerly.
    As he approached the glade, he discovered that the circle of stones continually emitted a humming sound. At close range the hum distorted the music that guided him and set up a disturbing vibration in the Otherworld. That vibration could repel many entities. Pepan forced himself to go on.
    At his back pulsed the opaque cloud.
    Wulv lay on the ground just outside the shelter he had built for the women. Clothed in leather and bearskin, he looked like a wild animal himself. Pepan hovered over him long enough to ascertain that he was sleeping peacefully, then entered the hut.
    Walls were no longer a barrier. The hia of the dead Rasne passed effortlessly through interlaced branches and chinked mud. Inside he found Repana and Vesi lying in each other’s arms. Each was contributing a note to the Otherworld music that had guided him this far. Repana’s identifying sound was rich and melodious; Vesi had a higher, clearer note, achingly pure in spite of all that had happened to her.
    But it was their physical voices that caught Pepan’s attention. He arrived just in time to overhear the conversation between mother and daughter about the possibility of aborting the infant. To his surprise, he felt their pain as sharply as if it were his own. Since he had no flesh to serve as a buffer, their emotion came into him naked and raw.
    Vesi obviously cherished the unborn infant, but Repana secretly regarded it with resentment amounting to loathing. The child would begin life with every possible disadvantage. Like its mother it would be an exile with no property, no status—and the added curse of a demon father. Only the Ais knew