The Threshold Child Part 45

Me'shan started humming quietly, and then turned the wordless tune into a song he had learned as a child. He was exhausted and his voice was hoa.r.s.e, but he let the music flow out of his soul to comfort his companion.

Dawn Like a long awaited breath of air It fills me with life and light Dawn Like the warmth of a fire in winter It revives my body and soul Dawn The hope of each child of earth Dispelling the darkness from the world Dawn The beginning of a brand new day It opens my path to all possibilities She continued to cry quietly, but remarked, "You have a lovely voice. Thank you for sharing it with me."

He replied distractedly. "My wife used to sing that song to our son when he was young."

Faryl moved into a sitting position. "How old is your son now?"

"Twenty-two."

"You must miss him very much," she said softly.

"Yes," was the pained response, "I miss my sonaand my daughter."

"How old is your daughter?" asked Faryl, grateful for the distraction from her present situation.

Me'shan had spent much time thinking about his daughter since E'rian's disappearance, and even more since his capture. The answer came readily.

"She must be seventeen by now."

Her voice became even more quiet. "What is her name?"

He fought back the tears that came with the knowledge that he didn't really know. He gave the name that E'rian had picked for her. "Ma'eve."

Faryl could hear the love in his voice when he spoke her name. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly. "You must love her very much."

Me'shan nodded, but said nothing.

She continued without any encouragement. "Fathers should love their daughters. That is how things were meant to be."

He frowned at this statement, perplexed by the tone in which it was spoken.

"That is how it should be," she repeated. "Even ifa"

The silence was filled with tension. Me'shan raised himself up on one elbow. "Even if what?" he urged her gently.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Even if it was nothing but an experiment."

Understanding washed over his mind. "That man was your father?"

"If you think it right to attach such a t.i.tle to that man," she said flatly.

Me'shan's heart filled with pity when he thought of the kind of childhood she had endured.

"I am so sorry, Faryl."

She shook her head. "It does not matter anyway. I will not give him the information he wants, and he will kill me for that."

He stared into the darkness intently. "What information does he want?"

"I doubt you would understand," she said dismissively.

A smile touched his lips. "Try me."

After a thoughtful pause, she shrugged. "Well, I suppose it does not matter whether you know or not. He wants to know if I contacted the L'avan."

A chill ran down Me'shan's spine. "What?"

Her voice was colored by an ironic smile. "I knew you would not understand."

"Did you contact them?"

She sighed. "I attempted to several times, but I was not successful. Every time I came close, something happened to prevent me from proceeding."

He sat up slowly. "Perhaps I understand the situation better than you imagine."

"Oh?"

He hesitated, wondering if he was making the right decision. "Faryl, I was not honest with you. My name is not Trayse, it is Me'shan." he paused again. "I am L'avan."

Several moments of silence followed this declaration. Then, Faryl began to laugh bitterly. "I should have guessed that they put a spy in this cell with me."

He shook his head. "I am not a spy."

She did not believe him. "If you were a L'avan, you would not be in this dungeon. You would be in the one on the level above us."

Another shudder ran through Me'shan's body. "There are others? You know that for sure?"

The shock in his voice gave Faryl pause. "You must have known that."

A feeling of dread weighed down his chest. "We suspected it, but it could never be confirmed."

Truth rang in each of his words, and she found herself beginning to believe him. "Prove it."

He was startled by this abrupt command. "What?"

"Prove that you are a L'avan."

Me'shan shook his head sadly. "I do not know if I have the strength."

Faryl folded her arms stubbornly. "Very well. I will just a.s.sume that you are a spy."

He debated on whether or not to even try. "If I prove it to you, will you tell me everything you know about the captured L'avan?"

"Yes," she agreed eagerly.

With a weary sigh, he got to his feet. "Stand up."

She did so immediately, and with much more energy than what he had.

Me'shan put his arms around her waist and said, "Hold on to my shoulders."

He reached down deep inside of himself, searching for his vyala. It had lain dormant for so long, hidden from his captors, that it took some effort to rouse it.

It eventually flared to life, lighting his vision to details of the black pit in which they were imprisoned. Everything took on a light blue tint, and he felt Faryl start at the sight of his glowing eyes.

Me'shan focused on his own body, imagining that it was lighter than air. His vyala responded to this desire, and he felt himself being lifted off of the ground. He held tightly onto Faryl, taking her into the air with him.

She gasped in amazement. "What is happening?"

They only hovered for a minute or so before Me'shan returned them to the ground. Even so, he was exhausted by the effort.

"You really are a magic-user," she said in a voice mixed with awe and fear.

He nodded to the darkness, laying back down on the icy cold stone. "Yes."

"I wish I could have seen how you did that. Perhaps then I could learn-" she cut herself off abruptly.

Her companion didn't seem to notice the change. He simply replied, "Knowing the method does not do any good unless you are L'avan. Our gifts are pa.s.sed through the blood of our race."

Faryl herself was debating on what to say. She finally settled with, "I know."

This time he caught the tone. "What are you talking about?"

She hugged her knees to herself, rocking slightly, back and forth. "The s.h.i.+mat have been conducting experiments on L'avan for many years, and they know much about the science of your gifts. The main hindrance to their research is that they only know the science, and that does not seem to be enough."

"What has your science taught you?" he asked cautiously.

She fixed her eyes on her clasped hands. "We know that it is an hereditary trait, and that it is pa.s.sed through the females."

Me'shan frowned. "How do you know that?"

Faryl's voice became subdued. "Because of what has been found with the half-L'avan children."

"What?" he demanded in shock.

"The children who were born of a L'avan mother had hints of the gifts given to your race, but the children who had a L'avan father showed nothing."

"No L'avan would ever agree-" he began, but she cut him off.

"They had no choice in the matter. The s.h.i.+mat are willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want."

Me'shan felt sick to his stomach. "How long has this been going on? How many are there?"

Faryl became preoccupied with a piece of straw that clung to her ragged clothing. She spoke quietly and quickly, as if speed would ease the pain of the statement. "There are only a few of us now. I was the first."

He stared in her direction, wis.h.i.+ng he could see her face. "You?"

"The experiment ended abruptly about seventeen years ago. I was never told why, only that they had a better experiment to begin."

Me'shan had a sneaking suspicion of what that experiment was. His mind ran over a hundred horrible possibilities, and he wondered fearfully what they had done to his daughter.

"That is when I escaped," she continued, "and I took a few of their precious experiments with me!"

He was almost afraid to ask. "What did you take?"

She shook her head. "Just some of the work they had done with L'avan blood."

He shuddered at the casual way in which she said it. "Such as?"

"Well, most of it was faulty, but the loss of the prototypes probably set their research back several years. I did steal a very powerful salve made with the blood of one of your healing L'avan. It was the first successful result that all their work had seen, and it was the only container."

All of this was said with a resentful sort of pride. She enjoyed hurting the s.h.i.+mat order, even if it could not compare with how they had hurt her.

Me'shan was a flurry of emotions. He honestly didn't know of which he felt most: pity for the bitter woman beside him, disgust and hatred for the s.h.i.+mat, or fear for his daughter. His mind was dizzy with the conflict, and tears ran out of his eyes when he remembered how powerless he was to help anyone.

"I suppose the s.h.i.+mat have all of their experiments back now, and their work can go forward."

Faryl gave a short, unamused laugh. "Oh, I am sure that the work went forward, regardless of what I stole. Still, they do not have what I took with me. I destroyed most of it, but I gave the salve to a young L'avan woman in one of my attempts to contact the race. I was hoping she would recognize how important it was and take it to one of your leaders."

"Did she?"

"I do not know," she said in a voice heavy with defeat.

Me'shan strained to sit up and took her hand. "Faryl, you must tell me everything you know about the s.h.i.+mat and their experiments. Perhaps we can find a way to put a stop to all of it."

Although he couldn't see it, a tear ran down her face and she nodded.

Chapter Forty: The Ravine.

Adesina awoke long before the others. She carefully climbed out of her bedding and moved away from the camp. Sa'jan, who was keeping watch, nodded to her as she walked past, but said nothing.

She stood at the edge of the trees, gazing across the open gra.s.sland before her. The first traces of light could be seen on the horizon, but the sky was still dusted with stars.

Ravi appeared at her side and sat down, looking up at the twinkling heavens. They were silent for several minutes, listening to the dark and enjoying one another's company. The peace couldn't last, and Adesina found herself seeking her guardian's counsel.

"Should we turn back, Ravi?"

"Turn back?" he asked in surprise. "Turn back from what?"

She smiled, even though such answers used to frustrate her. "From the mission."