THIRTEEN
NIOBE STRUGGLED TO rise from her kneeling position beside the body of the tharfi. Her slender frame trembled as she leaned upon her staff. Deemus moved at once to her side, enfolding her in his arms.
“You tax yourself,” he admonished. “You know the healing requires great energy, yet you refuse to ration your aid and safeguard your strength.” He guided her to a nearby bench. “You must listen to me or you will be of no use to anyone.”
Niobe smiled and reached up to caress his face. She had summoned no other of the Aelyth Faynir, not even the Peeress, her deputy. None of them had the skill or power required for such a daunting task. “I have tended the wounds and staunched the bleeding. He will survive.”
The others had watched the grave proceedings, standing a respectful distance away. Only Ryder, Mendiko, and Shaleen were in the company. Though they expected an arrival soon, the rianna and her party had not yet appeared. Neither had the Pat’Riark or the wenlords. They had other matters to attend to.
They were in a glade of the Retreat, surrounded by a mixture of tall oak, maple, and a smattering of off-world fruit trees. The sun’s rays slanted through the branches and crisscrossed the neatly mown grasses like a haphazard chessboard.
Ryder moved toward the tharfi but came to a standstill and gawked, unable to believe his eyes. Amazement, shock, surprise: he could not say there was any vast difference between them, yet the moment lasted no longer than the flicker of an eyelash. Such instances were affecting him less and less as he acclimatized to the numbing strangeness of this unfamiliar world.
He knelt to study his friend closer. Niobe had allowed no one near her while performing the healing ritual. As with Shaleen, he saw that both gaping wounds on the rear legs had closed. There remained only thin scar tissue. Countless small patches and larger swaths of fur had fallen away over the entire body, yet the underlying flesh had a pink, healthy look of healing. When his assessing gaze returned to the tharfi’s head, he saw the animal’s eyes were wide open and staring.
‘Wulf…You are better?’
The tharfi’s neck muscles bulged as he nodded with apparent ease.
‘Whaaaat magic is thissss?’
‘The magic of the Lady. She healed you at great cost to herself.’
Wulf rolled and gathered his legs beneath him, struggling to rise. Ryder tried to stop him, but it was to no avail. The huge animal shrugged off his protesting hand and heaved himself to his feet. Notwithstanding the Lady’s help, the tharfi’s recuperative powers astounded him. He had been near death only an hour before.
Niobe inclined her head in their direction, for she too had sensed the animal’s awakening. Wulf’s back legs showed a slight rigidity, and weakness made his walk stilted, yet he progressed fast enough as he moved to her and paused in front. His amber eyes gazed into hers.
Deemus stiffened and his hand moved to his sword, yet Niobe was quick to assure him. “There is no danger.”
There was a moment of intense scrutiny before Wulf’s head turned back toward Ryder. His look held a mixture of sorrow and confusion. ‘Her eyes cannot seeeee?’
Ryder nodded. There was no point in explaining the intricacies of the Tower. Wulf would have no conception of these matters.
‘Weeee must return the debt.’
Even in the mind-speech, it sounded simple. Yet Ryder wondered what Wulf had in mind. ‘How?’
‘Sheeee must use our eyes…though it can be for a short tiiiime only.’
Ryder’s mind was in tune with the tharfi’s so he understood the reason for the limitation. Such a link—similar to what he had attempted with Mendiko—would quickly deteriorate due to the inherent differences in their physical and mental makeup. But would she agree to such a thing? This was the unspoken question being asked by the tharfi as he stared intensely at Ryder.
‘There is but one way to find out.’
Wulf nodded and turned back to Niobe. With the delicacy of an adult fondling a baby, he placed his paw on her shoulder. Ryder knew they were communing, though he did not intrude on their conversation.
Deemus fidgeted as he too realized what was happening. The communion lasted several minutes before Wulf dropped his paw and turned to face Deemus, unmoving.
Both Mendiko and Shaleen gave startled gasps, which caused Ryder to shift his attention to Niobe. She had undergone a transformation. It was as though she was standing in intense light, so much joy radiated from her face. The white-blasted eyes—though they maintained their lack of color—were focused as she moved the few steps separating her from Deemus.
The Adept stood transfixed, seeing the change yet bewildered by it.
Niobe whispered so softly they could barely hear. “I see you, my love.”
Deemus hesitated a moment longer, and Niobe raised her hand to touch him. He responded at once, enfolding her in his arms. Their lips joined in a lingering kiss.
Ryder and the others backed off, leaving only the tharfi standing alone and still as a statue.
As they neared the fringe of the copse of trees, they met Ashara and Shaan. Both had seen and understood what had transpired from the look of wonderment on their faces.
“By the Rim!” Shaan exclaimed. “How can such a thing be possible?”
Ryder did not answer. He and Ashara had eyes only for each other, and both of them knew. They drew apart, walking to where a small bench lay perched in the shadow of a towering maple. The roots thrust out wide and thick for several meters, and it was there they rested. It felt as though they nestled within the pendulous limbs of a sleeping shagtusk.
“He is well?” Ashara asked.
Ryder nodded. “Thanks to the Lady.”
“And to you,” she added, smiling. “The holos are even now replaying it. I cannot imagine what possessed you to attempt such a thing, but I am grateful.”
They did not speak for a moment, content just to look upon one another.
Ashara finally broke the silence. “Every action you take causes a resounding ripple that affects the entire Pentarchy. The woman part of me is drawn to you. Yet there is another part that is Swordkind. I will not call it fear, for it is too strong a word. It is as though you have broken the fabric of time. The rest of us float here in limbo, not knowing which way to turn. I…I cannot explain it better.”
He took her face in his hands and gently stroked her temples. She sighed, leaning back and relaxing under his touch.
“Where did this love come from, Ryder Talisman? So fast and sudden and unlooked-for?”
He brushed her forehead with his lips, murmuring into her ear. “Ask me only what I can answer. I too am in limbo. I know I would willingly give my life rather than see you harmed…or to see you caught in the grip of fear,” he added.
She did not answer but pulled away, and he knew she had understood the implication. “You have seen his evil, as I have,” Ryder pressed. “Why do you continue to allow your duty to control your life?”
She turned back to face him. Her eyes were as beautiful as violets in full bloom, yet now they were deadly serious. “There is nothing we may take with us beyond the veil except that most precious thing of our own making…our honor. I must live or die by my vow.”
The moment passed: a droplet of time no words could fill. And then they heard footsteps and saw Shaan awaiting them. There was little choice but to rejoin the others.
Niobe’s face was flushed, and her expression tinged with sadness from the memory of what she had lost. Yet her gratitude was obvious in the way she clung to the tharfi, gently stroking his fur.
“What shall become of him?” Ashara asked.
“Kronus will induct him into the Codex,” replied Deemus, still eyeing the huge Wulf as if not trusting the tharfi’s sudden entry into civilization. “He will have as much right to wander freely as any other citizen of the empire—provided his teeth don’t betray him.”
As though he had understood every nuance of Deemus’ speech, Wulf’s jaw gaped to display the hideous and deadly row of fangs in question.
“I have heard Thorgrim speak of a northern variety of tharfi kin,” Shaan remarked. “He seldom sees them, for his lands are vaster than Shaka’s Royal Warren, yet they are there. Perhaps Wulf might wish to visit in time.”
Ryder nodded. “Until his wounds have fully healed, he can stay with me on the Sacred Isle. That will also accustom him to the company of humans. Then he may decide as he sees fit.”
Ashara reached up and stroked the broad forehead of the tharfi.
‘We shall soon meet again.’
Wulf grinned at her. ‘Yessss.’
“We must go now,” Shaan urged. “Father is waiting. In his condition, waiting does not sit well.”
Ashara nodded, looking a last time in Ryder’s direction. ‘I see you, Ryder Talisman.’
Ryder felt numbness spreading over him as he realized he must once more watch her leave. ‘And I, you.’
He stood silently as Deemus escorted her and Shaan to the gate. He remained watching until there was no longer any glimpse of her through the trees. How much time must pass before he would see her again…and how would he bear it?