It was odd, when he was wrung dry below, he stopped leaking from his eyes. She washed his penis and his hands, eased him back onto the bed, pulled the sheet over him, and trotted out again carrying the pitcher with her.
When she returned, she lifted his head and made him drink something hot and stinking. He almost threw it up again, but by the time she’d got the mugful of slop down him, the woe had retreated somewhere over the horizon. It was still there, but he was too numb to feel it.
After she went out for the third time, he lay staring at the ceiling trying not to think. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry, Fa. I’m sorry, Mort. I’m sorry, Xmae. You’ll have to get on however you can.” Another sigh. He let heavy eyelids droop shut and in a moment was asleep.
Early in the morning, a little over a month after leaving Keredel, Lylunda looked up from the mezu she was washing and saw a strange lander go whispering by overhead, its shadow slipping like a bird across the beronta, a bird with stubby wings and a flared tail.
“The woman has come for you.” Menget’s voice. She hadn’t heard the Drummer approach, but he was very light on his feet for such a big man.
Lylunda was annoyed; though she tried not to show it. Here was another case of the Bond stripping her privacy from her; what one Pandai knew, they all knew, as if the Bond thought something and those thoughts were echoed in all Pandai minds. “I didn’t expect her so soon. You sure?”
“Yes. We’ll be making landfall in three hours if the wind stays steady. The island Oreallin. The woman will be waiting for you there.” He set his hand lightly on her head. She could feel the warmth of it through her hair. “Omel oma, I don’t know what to think about this. You aren’t-happy with us and you make the Bond itch with your fighting against it. Yet you are enough of the Bond that I’m afraid…”
“She knows about that. She said she might have a way.”
“If you can go, we’ll miss you, Luna. You’ve taught us as much as you’ve learned and we’re grateful for that. Don’t forget us. Or your drumming. Though I’ll ask you to leave the drum behind. It is of the Bond.” He tapped her head lightly and went away.
Lylunda bent over the scrub board, rubbing the mezu up and down, up and down it, working absently, her eyes fixed on the water beyond the rail. Around her she could hear babies crying, women and girls gosSiping as they repaired sails and prepared food for the one large meal spread out at mid-afternoon, men gossiping as they mended nets and worked at the constant maintenance it took to keep the beronta in good order, boys chasing each other across the deck and through the rigging-the thousand sounds large and small that she’d got used to in the months she’d spent on the Remeydang.-
Already she felt separated from them. And impatient to be gone. The things she’d found pleasant a day before were suddenly so restrictive that she was choking on them. As she wrung out the mezu and got to her feet to hang it on the line stretched from the cabin overhang to the rail, she murmured to herself, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, naked I go forth from this second womb. And the only thing I’ll miss is my drum.”
5
The beeper in her hand, Lylunda walked along the beach.
Shadith was waiting beside the lander, but she wasn’t alone. A red-haired woman a handspan taller stood beside her. Lylunda wondered about this woman, but tried not to let hope get too strong a hold. If this fell through, the loss of that hope would kill her.
As she got closer, she could feel the tung stirring in her. The Bond didn’t like that redhead and the closer she got, the more it started fighting her. She took two more steps, then stopped, about two body lengths from the lander, unable to walk closer, the tung cramping her muscles and threatening nausea.
Shadith spoke. “Are you willing to come with us, Lylunda El ang T’
Lylunda understood the formality in the words, an offered contract. When she tried to speak, though, her throat knotted and she couldn’t make a sound. She managed a nod before her whole body froze on her.
“I take that as agreement. My companion is Aleytys, the Hunter from Wolff. If you’re heard of her, you know that she’s a healer. If anyone can keep you alive, she will.”
Aleytys the Half-Vryhh, Lylunda thought. Maybe I will make it… She started shaking, her eyes watered until she couldn’t see much but blurs, her stomach jerked, and hot vomit filled her mouth.
A moment later she felt hands on her. Someone stripped the mezu away, someone grabbed her arms and pulled her toward the lander. As she stumbled and nearly fell, someone swore, then hands were lifting her, carrying her.
Words came through the roar in her ears. “Abra, go!”
Broad straps are drawn tight over her body. Metallic clunks as they are locked down. Something hard and heavy on her mouth, collecting her spew and suctioning it away.
Words. “Hang on a moment, Shadow, soon as I’ve finished here…
Hands on her.
Pain. Worse than the last time she’d drunk the cherar infusion. Knives scraping along her bones. Muscles cramping, trying to throw her into convulsions. Straps holding her, bruising her.
Coughing. Vomit hot in her mouth, sucked away. Again. Emptying herself into the sucking machine.
Wind. Hurricane. Driving across her, snatching her breath from her nostrils. No wind. Again the wind. No wind. Again…
The tung desperate in her, clawing at her as it is driven forth. She hangs on, feeling the tung torn out of her.
Between one breath and the next, there was no more pain.
Aleytys’ hands were warm on her, feeding her strength, pouring life into her body.
She was strong again, as full of energy as a berry with juice.
She opened her eyes, looked up into that blue-green gaze. “Thanks.”
Aleytys smiled wearily. “It’s not done yet, not quite. Rest a while. I’ll be back to you in a minute.”
Lylunda turned her head to watch and was appalled at what she saw.
Shadith lay on a cot like hers, strapped down. An ugly gray and ocher fungus grew in patches on her face and body, some of it even on her eyes, blood trickled from her nose and mouth with each labored breath. She was shuddering and moaning… and the moment Aleytys set her hands on her, she screamed. With her mouth and her whole body, she screamed, spewing blood and bits of rotten flesh over the healer’s face.
The hurricane roared again. Air exchange, expelling the organism as Aleytys killed it and drove it from the body.
It was like watching a replay of what had happened to her, only seeing it from the outside, this time.
Lylunda coughed. And was afraid. The infection was in her again, growing in her. Exploding through her. It wasn’t fair. She was clean a moment ago. It wasn’t faiiir.
An eternity later, well-being returned to her, Lylunda watched Aleytys lean into the harness that she wore to keep her in place during the rush of the air exchange; her face had a faint webbing of fatigue lines that made her look for a moment as if she were a thousand years old, her body was slumped in utter exhaustion. Without opening her eyes, she said, “Sterilize, Abra. It’s time.”
A mellow baritone voice answered, “Heard and done, Archira.”
The pumps hummed again and in seconds the room was filled with a gas that stank and stung like pepper essence. Lylunda’s eyes teared and her body felt as if she were being whipped with nettles.
The baritone voice sounded again. “Take several deep breaths, Lylunda Elang. It will be painful, but it is necessary.”
She grimaced, but followed instructions.
“Thank you, Lylunda Elang.”
The pumps hummed again and the gas was drawn out. She sucked in cool clean air and, thought that no pleasure would ever be as great.
Aleytys unsnapped the harness and moved alongside Shadith, undoing the latches that held the straps in place. When she’d finished and was turning to do the same with Lylunda’s straps, Shadith sat up, stretched, and groaned. “Merd, Lee, that’s nasty stuff, that organism whatsit. Whew! I definitely don’t want to go through that again.”