“Other humans don’t have that information,” she said. “I mean to compile a catalog to help naturalists across the Spiral Arm.”
“Oh,” Kennebar said again. “Then we won’t disturb you at your work. We have our own tasks.” The priests climbed higher in the fronds, out of her reach.
When the others were gone, though, Collin dropped down to the forest floor, grinning shyly at her. “It’s nice here, but I miss you. Did you get my message?”
“Yes, but I would have rather said goodbye to you in person.”
Collin looked away. “But it wasn’t goodbye. You came here.”
“I have a camp out by the meadow.”
“We know. We could all see it through the worldtrees. We watched you land.”
Arita should have known this. “Now that I’m here, you could help me find specimens—like we used to do.”
“Maybe for a little while, but I have my duties to serve the trees.”
Arita glanced up into the high trees where she could still see some of the isolationists. “And what exactly do you do to serve the worldforest?”
Her question surprised him, and he searched for an answer. “We came here to the Wild where we can better serve the trees, uninterrupted.”
Arita sniffed. “How does that make sense? The worldforest thrived on Theroc for ten thousand years or more without any green priests.”
“Others tended the worldforest in the past. Even before humans came here, the verdani weren’t always alone.” Collin just looked at her. “I can’t explain it to you because you wouldn’t understand.”
The words stung.
He accompanied her through the trees, led her around thickets, and ducked under branches that seemed to ease aside for him while scratching Arita’s skin. He led her directly to a cluster of wriggling condorfly larvae, then to a towering conical fungus whose rotting stench seemed to attract a particular species of green moth.
As they went along, Collin frequently brushed the trunk of a worldtree, as if to check in with his fellow green priests, afraid to be out of touch for too long. He sighed. “I wish you were a green priest, Arita.”
“Because we can’t be friends if I’m not? Other couples have done it.” She still felt that he had abandoned her. They had been so close, had even shared a first kiss.
“Not just that. There’s so much more. Even when I’m not touching the worldforest, I can hear the song of the trees. Words, knowledge, memories, legends, things I can’t understand, but they’re part of me anyway.” His words were a breathless rush. “The verdani mind is everywhere. It’s like being part of everything.”
He did his best to describe it, pitying her, but his words only emphasized how deafeningly silent the worldforest was for her. Seeing her forlorn expression, Collin was embarrassed to have brought up the subject. “I should be going back to Kennebar. Can you find your way back to your camp?”
“Of course,” she said a little too quickly.
Before bounding off, Collin called, “If you get into trouble, we’ll know. The worldtrees are always watching you. Don’t worry.”
He left Arita with her specimens and the whole continent to explore. She got back to work.
EIGHTY-FOUR
PRINCE REYN
After the Ildiran cutter landed on a high tower platform of the Prism Palace, Prince Reyn emerged into the brightest sunlight he’d ever experienced. Until his eyes adjusted, his noble escort gave him a pair of thin filmgoggles. “Human visitors are often blinded by the dazzling beauty of Mijistra.”
“Maybe it has to do with all those suns shining down,” Reyn said, shading his eyes.
Located in the Horizon Cluster, Ildira was surrounded by many nearby stars, but the main suns in the sky were the system’s orange K-1 primary, the nearby Qronha binary star, the Durris trinary system, and the blue supergiant Daym. Reyn understood the basic astronomy, but at the moment he had no great desire to locate all seven of the nearest suns in the sky. It was too bright.
Now the other members of the Confederation entourage stood blinking, looking about for their Ildiran counterparts so they could get to business.
A beautiful young woman came to greet him, singling him out. She had ethereal Ildiran features with a decidedly human caste. Her hair was pale and feathery; her eyes large, her smile genuine. Reyn’s Ildiran entourage placed fists against chests in a gesture of respect for her. One of the dignitaries bent close to him. “This is Osira’h, daughter of Mage-Imperator Jora’h and his consort Nira.”
He certainly knew who Osira’h was—she had fought the hydrogues at the end of the Elemental War when she was just a girl.
She extended her hand. “Prince Reynald of Theroc, I will be your liaison here. Since my mother was a green priest and my father an Ildiran, maybe I can help you bridge the two cultures.” She gave him a more personal smile. “I was looking for something interesting to do, and you seem interesting.”
He realized he was blushing. “I’ll try to be.” And, yes, Osira’h was very interesting, too.
The Solar Navy officers, the noble advisers, guard kithmen, and the Confederation representatives were ready to accompany Prince Reyn into the Prism Palace, but Osira’h grabbed his arm. “You must have felt so crowded on that ship. Growing up on Theroc with its big open skies, you probably just want a little space. Follow me.” She glanced at the others. “I will take care of him.”
She led him at a brisk pace away from the entourage, who were surprised when she abandoned them. As they entered the tower halls, she said conspiratorially, “Ildirans don’t like to be alone—you’ve probably noticed that already. Come, I can take you the back ways, and we’ll encounter fewer people, if you’d like that?”
At the moment Reyn would have liked anything she suggested.
They passed many soldier kithmen, ferocious-looking guards with body armor and prominent weapons. Reyn frowned to see so much security. “I thought Ildira was a peaceful planet. Are these just ceremonial guards?”
Osira’h hesitated. “There was a recent assassination attempt, and no one can understand it. Some people tried to attack my mother during a public festival.”
“Ildirans rising up to attack? What caused that?”
“No one knows—the assassins were like a silence in the thism. My mother would have come to meet you, but she’s being kept under special guard. You will see her at the banquet.”
Osira’h guided him along back corridors, through an empty sculpture exhibit, and up a winding spiral staircase to another tower of the Prism Palace where she led him to his guest quarters made of curved crystal adorned with colored lenses.
Regarding him with her large, strangely opalescent eyes, she said, “My inclination is to show you everything right away, drag you from tower to tower in the few hours before our banquet, and then tomorrow take you to all the planets in the Ildiran Empire.” She let out a quick laugh. “Maybe I’m being overly ambitious.”
He chuckled. “You are. I’m exhausted just hearing your plans.”
“We’ll have time,” she said. “You look weary. You should rest.”
Later, he followed Osira’h to the dining chamber where attender kith bustled about. Mage-Imperator Jora’h gave Reyn an effusive welcome, and Nira asked him about Theroc, even though she had visited recently for the funeral of Father Idriss. The rest of the Confederation entourage sat at a different table.
Her eyes sparkling, Osira’h took a seat beside him and explained the variety of colorful foods, fruits, meats, and confections (some of which were indistinguishable from the decorations). Ildiran musicians and singers performed an odd sort of atonal music with water-bubbling flutes; Reyn pretended to enjoy it. They both listened in rapt silence as a rememberer told a brief story from the Saga of Seven Suns.