Wizards At War

Once again the memory of darkness came down on Nita, the darkness inside her mother’s cancer-stricken body, and the worse one, much later, on the night Nita went up to her room after the funeral, shut the door, and sat in the dark, completely dead inside. But the shock a few moments ago had left Nita less susceptible to this second one… and she wasn’t going to let the pain distract her from the business at hand, especially when it was so plain that the whole Yaldiv species was being jerked around in a way that Nita found so personal. Suddenly everything seemed reflected in everything else—the mirror-eye looking back at her, and the koi’s words: Within every dewdrop, a world of struggle. And this was it, she realized. The struggles were the same; the answers were the same. This was the key.

“What kind of mother wouldn’t die for her kids? Lots of kinds!” Nita said. Her own anger surprised her, and at the sound of it, Memeki started back. “Would, sure. But have to? Most places it’s optional, not mandatory! Not for you, though. Someone’s picked out the kind of motherhood that’ll hurt the most, the kind you can never enjoy, and talked you into thinking it’s all you’ve got!”

Shock practically radiated from Memeki. “But this is—this is—”

“The way it’s always been done?” Nita said. “No, it’s not! There’s another story, isn’t there?” And as she said it, she knew it was true, the same way she’d known when to throw herself out of the line of fire back at the Crossings. But nothing about this business is usual, she thought, and felt the peridexic effect’s amusement in response.

Memeki’s shock became even more pronounced. She waved her claws in distress. “How do you know that?” she cried. “You were not—He didn’t—” She threw a glance toward Ponch.

She told him, Nita thought. And that’s how I know now. This was part of the information that was blocked in the manuals. But when she told Ponch herself, the peridexic effect got access to the information! “It doesn’t matter right now,” Nita said. “Listen to me, Memeki! Once upon a time, mothers here didn’t have to do that kind of thing, did they?”

“No! They—” Memeki quieted a little. “No,” she said.

“Because there weren’t so many eggs?”

Memeki hesitated. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“But these days there are so many,” Nita said. “Too many. And they have no other way to be born. They have to kill you.” She was getting angrier every moment. It was another of the Lone Power’s favorite gambits—perverting the way Life worked just to spite it. “There might be more to it than that. Never mind that right now. Once, things were different. But now you’re called to the King—” Nita thought about that for a moment. “‘Called.’ They make you go to him?”

Memeki put up her claws again in distress. “It is an honor—”

“Yeah, sure,” Nita said. “What if you don’t want the honor?”

“The warriors make meat of you,” Memeki whispered.

“So you have no choice,” Nita said.

Memeki was silent. Nita put a hand out to her and felt again the burning storm of angry life inside her, all the new little avatars of the Lone One waiting for their first act in life, which would be to murder someone. Away behind her, she could hear Ponch whimpering, and Kit was picking up on his distress.

Neets—

I know.

We’re just about ready.

Give us a minute. “Memeki,” Nita said, “the only reason you’re here with us now is because somehow you felt different from all the other Yaldiv, all the other Yaldat.”

“That’s true,” Memeki said.

“And you said you heard a voice speaking to you?”

“The voice that said I could be more,” Memeki said, “that all my people could be more.”

“Memeki,” Nita said, “did you give the voice an answer?”

And inside Memeki, Nita could feel all those little sparks of dark fire suddenly blaze up in shock. From the other core of power working inside her, the small, dim-beating one, there was not the slightest sign of reaction: like someone holding absolutely still lest some shy, trembling thing bolt away.

Memeki was silent.

Neets, we really need to get out of here. Ponch thinks he smells something starting to happen.

Just a minute more! “Memeki!” Nita said.

Memeki looked at Nita. “No,” she said. “I never knew what to say.”

Nita swallowed. “Memeki,” she said, “before, you never had a choice in anything. Now you have one, your very own choice. Give the voice an answer.”

Almost too softly to be heard, “But what answer?” Memeki said. “What do I do?”