Camellia stumbled onto a ribbed deck, and Rooks caught her arm.
The lighting glowed soft and low, throwing the far corners of the bay into shadow. On a lower-than-average ceiling, wires and pipes mimicked tree and vine growth, far more effectively than those on the Ischyros. Camellia glanced back and saw that Eva paused, off-put by the jungle-like effect. The high heat added to the atmosphere, and Camellia’s hair instantly soaked up some humidity.
“Welcome,” a Volanter called, just a shadow across the room.
Tentacles did, indeed, sprout from her head. They waved in the low light as if they had a mind of their own. The Volanter lurched forward and then moved smooth, and Camellia saw the tentacles that replaced her feet. The Volanter wore only a small dress of leaves and flowers. They crept up her breasts and wrapped her hips. The skirt barely covered the upper reaches of her numerous lower limbs.
Camellia took a step back. Rooks almost did the same, but the Curator held her place. Camellia worried that her own efforts to maintain a cautious distance had weakened their Curator’s resolve.
The Volanter smiled, and it was a stiff expression, as if seen across a theater, under heavy makeup. “Please, come join us in our gathering room. It will be a more comfortable place to meet. Curator Rooks?”
Rooks stood farthest forward, thanks to the retreat of everyone else. “Yes, I am she.”
“Wonderful, and the others?” The Volanter motioned to the rest of the party, and a butterfly sitting on her sleeve fluttered its wings, though it didn’t take off.
Camellia peered closer.
“Not real,” the Volanter gestured to the butterfly. “But, they certainly give off that impression.”
“Yes,” Camellia answered, a bit dazed. Her eyes darted back to the stiff expression of the Volanter greeter.
“May we continue with introductions?” The Volanter again directed the question to Rooks.”
“Yes.” Rooks gestured first to Camellia. “This is Camellia Adalhard. She’s my team’s foremost anthropologist.”
Camellia felt herself blush. She felt that role should belong to Florian.
Rooks touched Meladee’s shoulder. “Meladee Arai – pilot and mage.” Rooks stepped across their group and stopped by Pan. “Panphila Ithir – student of magic. Beside her is Aria Alpian – ambassador’s aide.” Rooks passed Pan and Aria. She paused just ahead of Kat. “Katiuscia Pian – elder mage. And, Evangeline Dyelan – engineer.”
The Volanter woman smiled, and Camellia thought it seemed genuine – stiff but genuine.
“Welcome. I’m Dicentra. Healer mage. You find yourselves among the Bacchan.” Dicentra seemed to bow, but it was subtle. “What clans did you originate from?”
“Excuse me?” Rooks’ brow knit.
“Volanter clans. You’re Volanter.”
Camellia felt her eyes go wide. “We’re Iruedians actually.” Camellia glanced around her group. “And, our grey-skinned members are Scaldin.” Camellia shook her head. “We’re not Volanter. Not really.”
“Of course, you are. I know of Iruedim. We lost contact with that clan a few decades ago. The Blath. That’s what they were called.” Dicentra pulled herself across the floor. Her tentacles flexed and rolled, until she ceased to move forward. She beckoned. “Come, members of the Blath and others.”
No one started forward.
Camellia wondered if they all froze for the same reason. Probably not. Meladee and Eva watched the woman’s tentacles with trepidation. The Scaldin hung back, and Pan paid special attention to Dicentra’s stiff face. They seemed perturbed by the Volanter woman’s person, not her words.
Camellia worried more about the words. How could the Blath have lost contact mere decades ago? Iruedim had a story eight-thousand-years long, and the Blath belonged at the start of it.
“The Blath were a distant part of our history.” Camellia’s eyes moved from Dicentra to Rooks. She looked between them in fast succession. She felt horror creep onto her face when Rooks started forward. Camellia added, “They…uh…the Blath haven’t been on Iruedim for thousands of years.”
That statement gave Rooks pause.
“Right.” Dicentra nodded. “Follow me. Let’s get comfortable before we get into the details.”
Resolve entered Rooks gaze, and she resumed her step. “I would like to get down to more formal talks. We were hoping…”
Dicentra held up a hand. “We really have to wait for our leader. I can’t discuss anything formal.”
“Alright,” Rooks said quietly.
Aside from the off-putting figure of Dicentra and the forested atmosphere, Camellia could say the Volanter seemed friendly enough.
Camellia followed, second in line, with the rest of the companions right behind. Rooks, out in front, kept them moving forward, though her gait seemed stiff.
Dicentra led them into a winding hall and wriggled ahead, coordinating her many limbs. She had a milky tone of skin, but black stipes ringed her tentacles and arms. The effect really was like that of a snake, at least down below. Several snakes in fact, a rolling, looping army of them.
Camellia shivered. None of her companions seemed all that comfortable either. Rooks and Kat glanced at the tentacles. Pan would not look away. Eva studied the ship, and Meladee kept searching, probably for something pleasant to set her eyes on…or escape. Aria stared at Camellia.
Camellia remembered she needed to have a peek in Aria’s mind.
I hope the Volanter can’t tell what I’m doing. And, with that thought Camellia reached in. Do you have anything for me?
She has a green and blue aura, composed of very subdued shades. It reaches very far, and it touched every one of us. Aria’s mental words came with a heavy flavor of foreboding.
What does it mean for her aura to touch us?
It could mean that she likes us…a lot, but she didn’t show any colors of affection. It could mean that she’s very friendly, but usually I see friendliness in brighter shades of yellow and green. I’m not sure exactly what it means yet. I just wanted you to know. Aria’s words faded away and, in their place, fell thoughts of Gavain, being so far from her.
Camellia dodged out of that view quick. To Rooks, she relayed the impression of connection and friendliness. The message seemed to imbue Rooks with confidence. She stood a little straighter but sent no other response.
The Scaldin still distrusted the Volanter. Rooks, on the other hand, was taking heart in the first signs of friendship. Though some things seemed off about the situation. The timeline, for one. It didn’t match Iruedim’s. Camellia thought that if they really wanted to understand the Volanter, they needed a bigger data set.
Camellia turned her mind to study of the only Volanter present, and Dicentra helped the process along.
“We try, whenever possible, to keep sharp curves and right angles out of our designs. You will find that true of most Volanter clans, with the exception of a few. The Blath specifically. Before they left, they were more interested in rigid geometries. I’m interested to see what you’ve done with it.” Dicentra’s eyes moved between the Iruedians.
Camellia opened her mouth to speak but missed the chance.
“I don’t know from which clan you Scaldin originate. You’ll have to tell us more about your magical studies. That’ll be a giveaway.” Dicentra paused in a juncture. A wall ahead blocked their path forward. “All sleeping rooms are clustered around the main gathering space.” Dicentra gestured left and right. Then, she hit a button behind her. “And, here it is.” Dicentra slithered, like an octopus, onto soil and grass. She dipped low but regained her height after her first steps.
Camellia’s mouth dropped open.
The room blossomed into an indoor forest. One of the Dipinta trees sat in the middle, while flowers and plants surrounded it, huddled beneath its canopy. The room was dark, lit not by stars overhead, but by scatterings of little lights.
“Is it supposed to be night?” Camellia asked.
“Yes. It’s the middle of our rest time. We rest for half the hours in each day. But, that’s no matter as we have a reliable night watch.” Dicentra gestured for them to sit on the grass.
Camellia heard Kat grumble about getting down low, but their eldest team member managed.
Dicentra lowered herself too and curled her tentacles beneath her. “We must wait a few minutes for our Bacchan clan leader to arrive. He was aboard another ship, sleeping, when we heard of you. Then, we can talk more formally. I must say we’re surprised to find lost Volanter in our midst.” Dicentra cleared her throat. “What kind of magic do you Scaldin use?”
Rooks gestured for Kat to speak.
Kat sighed. “We’re each bound to a single spell.”
Dicentra’s dark eyes narrowed, not with any malicious intent, but with thought. “I don’t know that one. It must have been developed before my time or away from the clan space. One spell each. What kind of circles do you use? Multiple or single ring?”
“Single ring.” Pan’s also narrowed eyes gave a predatory impression.
“Ah, so you use the old methods.” Dicentra shifted atop her tentacles and folded her hands in her lap. “Single ringed circles are probably our most powerful inventions, but they rely on the user to control so many unarticulated dynamics.” Dicentra gave a small shrug. “I keep them in my genetic memory of course, but I haven’t used them in such a long while. I doubt I could perform them all.” Dicentra set curious eyes on Pan. “What’s your circle?”
Pan curled up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Ghost sight.”
Camellia controlled her breathing, as did the others. Some of their number approved of the lie. Camellia did not. Rooks seemed equally disturbed.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Dicentra’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s not an oft used circle. You must be very good at it.”
Pan didn’t answer.
Rooks leaned forward. “Dicentra. Can you give us some idea what your leaders want to discuss? We’re in a bit of a hurry to get to our respective homes, and we were hoping...”
Dicentra rose on her tentacles. “Ah, here comes our clan leader – Ranunculus. With him, are our head of interspecies relations – Ipomea, and our lead researcher – Carex.”
Camellia got to her feet, as did the rest of her companions. All eyes turned to the new Volanters.
Ranunculus, Camellia thought, had to be in the middle. He was the tallest, at eight feet. He had the same striped arms as Dicentra, but black was the dominant color on his body, not white. His face was black. His torso was the same. He was powerfully built, massive, with a regal, masklike quality to his face. He embodied the qualities of a leader, at least those beloved by most cultures on Iruedim.
Ipomea was small for a Volanter, only a little taller than six feet. Black was also her dominant color. She was delicate, unlike Dicentra. Ipomea’s white stripes were subtle and thin. She wore a dress of light blue that opened to reveal her tentacles. The fabric shimmered like waves.
Carex was the second biggest. He may have reached seven and a half feet. He was white, with prominent black stripes, narrow eyes and a pointed chin.
Dicentra gestured to Rooks. “If I may introduce our guests…this is Curator Wren Rooks – the caravan’s leader.” Dicentra introduced everyone else and added, “They represent two clans – the Iruedians and Scaldin.”
“Iruedim.” Recognition came into Ranunculus’ eyes. “How have you been getting on? I told Sedge that it would be a difficult planet to return from. I suppose it was.” Ranunculus smiled. “If we see you before we even hear from Sedge...”
Camellia glanced at Rooks.
Rooks bowed her head. “We’re getting on fine. Thank you for asking. We’re not familiar with Sedge. That would have been eight thousand years ago. Well before our time, I’m afraid.”
“Eight thousand years…” Ranunculus’ face lost its expression. “We’ve spent a long time in our clan home. I suppose that Sedge and the rest of the Blath must be…dead.”
Camellia was almost certain they were. She was also certain that something fishy was going on in that clan home.
The conversation paused, and Camellia decided to check up on the new Volanter. Anything noteworthy in their auras?
Aria’s inner voice whispered, All subdued. They mix with each other’s and ours easily. Ipomea is the friendliest. Ranunculus shows a strong streak of dominance, but he’s an overall calm person. His aura has threads to all of ours. Carex’s aura is sinister…I can’t explain it. He’s serene enough but very calculating. He seems most interested in you and me.
Camellia stiffened. Us specifically?
Yes.
Yikes. Camellia conveyed the thoughts in a rush to Rooks.
Rooks shook her head and touched her temple. She gave Camellia a quick glance, and Camellia could see the discomfort plain on Rooks’ face.
Dicentra wobbled over the dirt and touched her hands to Pan’s shoulders. “Pan is accomplished with the ghost sight circle.”
Ranunculus’ attention snapped to her. “Really? The single ring?”
“Yes.” Pan stood stiff under Dicentra’s touch.
“That’s impressive.” Ranunculus slithered closer.
Pan shrugged out of Dicentra’s grasp and crossed the grass to stand with Kat and Aria. “Not really. All of us Scaldin are bound, just to one circle.”
“Bound? That’s a new one. Who binds circles?” Ranunculus turned to Carex.
Carex spread his hands. “It’s a development possibly outside our ken, more likely old and abandoned to future exploration. Regardless of your status, I am impressed that any Volanter, minus their tentacles, can cast a single-ringed spell.”
Rooks held up a hand and stepped forward. “Not that we aren’t enjoying our visit, but we need to talk about your reason for calling this meeting.” Rooks touched her chest. “If you’re looking for something from us, I wondered if we might ask for something in return. We’re in a hurry to get home, and I thought you might be able to help.”
Carex sighed. “A hurry? How? This part of space is remote, and this galaxy is waning. How did you get here, and how are you going to get home in such a hurry?”
Don’t tell him! Aria screamed in Camellia’s head.
Camellia echoed the scream into Rooks’.
“We…”
“Used Iruedim’s natural wormhole?” Carex smiled. “I didn’t think the exit would ever return here. But, if you wait long enough, anything is possible.” He shrugged.
“Right.” Rooks motioned for her group to come closer. “If you really just wanted to speak to us and reminisce, then we need to be going. Maybe, if you could help us find safe passage, we could have a shorter journey. At least, that’s what I was hoping. In return, we can leave you some information on our magical research.”
Camellia slipped close to Rooks. The other members of their team followed, and Aria squeezed her way into the middle.
Ranunculus tsked. “Reminisce. Is that what you think we want? We do have a matter of importance to discuss with you. But, first, we’re trying to figure out which clans you belong to, where you fit in the Volanter hierarchy.” Ranunculus slithered over the dirt and circled wide to their side.
Rooks’ turned her head and followed his motion. “We don’t belong to any clans.”
Carex folded his hands. “I am willing to bet that all of you carry some Volanter genetics.”
“You would lose,” Rooks said.
Carex smiled. “Even if only some of you do, you have to realize what an important link that is between our people.” Carex gestured between the group.
Ranunculus smiled. “What Carex is trying to say is that we would like to maintain contact with you, regardless of how we help each other now.”
Rooks relaxed a little. “Well, that would probably be fine, but…I think you’ll find some of our people overly cautious.” She gestured around her small team. “As you can see. They aren’t exactly comfortable.” Rooks took a deep breath. “We also don’t want to share the exact location of our wormhole. We’ve had some bad run-ins with other groups.”
In Camellia’s mind, she caught a deeper meaning behind Rooks’ words.
Rooks thought, Don’t let them know we can shift the exit. I think they might be disappointed to hear we plan to move it, rather than leave it. Pass the message on.
Camellia acknowledged. She passed the message, though she didn’t think it was all that necessary.
Ranunculus nodded. “I see. I understand. But, you don’t need to worry about sharing the wormhole’s location with us. We’re Volanter. I also shouldn’t need to say it, but we’ll find the wormhole easily ourselves, whether you give us information or not.” Ranunculus stared at the fake stars and stroked his chin. “Now, as for the matter at hand – it can’t be rushed. If you’re in such a hurry, maybe you could leave some of your party among us. We could bring them home after.”
Aria screamed again in Camellia’s head. No one should stay.
I agree, Camellia thought back. She didn’t transmit the thought to Rooks. She knew Rooks wasn’t going to say yes.
“We need everyone in our crew,” Rook said. “And, I feel compelled to tell you that we just got out of a bad relationship with another governing body…Bad enough that we won’t give any group a pass, even those with shared heritage.”
Ranunculus laughed, but he had no humor. “We aren’t some other governing body. You can’t cut your relationship with us. It’s…how do I convey this…it’s...”
Ipomea whispered, “Crazy.”
Ranunculus continued, “We could not imagine finding a lost clan, only to say good-bye within an hour. It’s like losing a limb. The other limbs certainly take up the lost one’s task, but it just never feels right.” Ranunculus shook his head. He reached for them. “You lost clans. I just don’t understand you. Why do you become so insular?”
“We are not.” Camellia scowled. “We have a great deal of interest in other cultures, but we don’t base that interest on family ties.”
Ranunculus nodded her words away. “Think of it like this. Genetic ties are like a contract of sorts. A contract that binds us through our ancestors. Nothing you do can ever erase that. Our paths are destined to cross. I would even go so far as to say our paths are one. Why not make our relationship pleasant and open?”
Camellia stiffened.
“Contract?” Rooks asked.
“Essentially yes. Every group that studies with us agrees to a bond, something more than a treaty. We share magical innovations. We intermarry. We intertwine and expand.” Ranunculus spread his arms. His tentacles tensed and relaxed in a slow rhythm. “We all contribute. We all get access to the clan home, and when one group is in trouble, we come to help. Now, I know you are lost, and we want to help…but, we could use some assistance as well.”
Rooks straightened. “Yes. Let’s get to the point. What kind of help are you looking for?”
Camellia heard hearts quicken. She charged into Aria’s thoughts. Aria startled, but her jerky motions hid behind the others.
Aria’s impressions came fast. Their colors are starting to go pink, with affection. I see yellows that suggest pity. Their auras reach for us.
They pity us? Camellia asked herself.
Carex clasped his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat and rose high on his tentacles. “As we said, this galaxy is waning. We were actually considering a move, using our own wormhole spells. But, if your two clans are here, why not set up a new clan home that will be nearby you?”
Rooks stiffened and stood straighter. “No. No. We can’t do that. Now, could we help you locate a new place? Sure. But, we don’t want anyone too close. You have no idea what we’ve been through, and what you’re asking is a lot. I have to say no. Continued contact – we could agree to. Under the right terms.”
Camellia took Rooks’ words for a lie, a simple misdirection. When they moved the wormhole, hopefully, they would leave the Volanter to deal with their own stuff, at least until their paths crossed again.
Ranunculus shook his head. “This is the worst case of separation syndrome I’ve ever seen.”
Carex nodded. “Agreed.”
Ranunculus sighed. “I didn’t want to have to mention this, but several of your ancestors were brought to our clan home. They left traces of themselves. Those traces are stored, and in the event that a group is lost, we can find them. It’s how we’ll figure out who the Scaldin are.” Ranunculus lowered himself, possibly to seem less intimidating. “As I said, it’s like a contract. We’re bound up together, so we might as well initiate contact and keep it.” Ranunculus interlaced his long fingers and stared into Rooks’ eyes.
To Rooks’ credit, she didn’t falter or flinch.
Camellia’s heart pounded. Genetic contract – it sounded so familiar.
Camellia frowned. “Why do you need to find anyone, especially when you’ve lost contact with the original clan members? Why not just let it go? You obviously left the Blath lost for thousands of years.” She awaited his answer.
Ranunculus frowned back. “By the Mother Tree, you become so antisocial.”
“We’re doing just fine,” Camellia said.
“Yes,” Rooks agreed. “Now, we-.”
Carex held up a single, long fingered hand. “Please. Let me ask. Did you try to shift the exit of the wormhole unnaturally?” Carex’s narrow eyes seemed to stare into the heart of each team member. “It was always something the Blath found appealing. Always a failure too.”
Rooks straightened. “What we do with our space – and the phenomena in it – is none of your business.”
Carex smiled. “I thought so. Well, it’s not going to work. It will never work just the way you plan.”
Sharp breaths and a shudder moved through the Scaldin and Iruedians.
“If you want, we might be able to assist with manufactured wormholes. Those work much better. Who knows if the natural wormhole is even stable, as it waits for you some distance away?” Carex spread his hands. “It will be much easier to get home with some help. And, once you do, what is so wrong with a new neighbor?” Carex smiled, but the corners of his narrow mouth barely turned up.
The Volanter were sinister. Camellia no longer had any doubts. She heard it in Carex’s voice. She read it in their body language, and Aria saw clues to it in their auras – in the ways those auras reached for them.
Camellia thought that Cernunnos would come to the same conclusion. She imagined his voice, ringing through her mind, Oh Camellia – you have my permission to skip out these guys.
Ranunculus steepled his fingers. “We could help you, and in return, we can offer a small delegation to accompany you. Give it a few months, and we can get comfortable with each other again. Would it, at least, be possible for some of our number to join you?”
Rooks stood straight and tall. “We’re not accepting guests. If I had the time, I’d explain why…”
“Really?” Carex slithered ahead of Ranunculus. “Not accepting guests? Or not in a condition to? You did mention that other government. It was likely your link to the greater galaxies. It’s always a blow to an isolated place like Iruedim when the only ally disappears.”
Ranunculus hummed his agreement. “I do remember that about Iruedim. Not enough supplies to keep ships in order. We don’t want to see you suffer. Let us send someone along to help you get back on your feet.”
Pan pushed her way to the front. “Help us get back on our feet? You aren’t even standing on your own.” Pan smirked as she gestured to their tentacles. “Iruedim will be fine – isolated or not. But, you are sitting in a dying galaxy. You said so yourself. You need us more than we need you. You should be willing to accept any terms she gives.” Pan pointed at Rooks.
Rooks opened her mouth to speak but paused.
Carex crossed his arms. “We aren’t the ones at a disadvantage. We could show up and join the neighborhood whether you liked it or not. Ranunculus…”
Shock and a bit of annoyance passed over Ranunculus’ stiff expression. “Let’s not threaten them.” He faced Rooks. “Can we come to any kind of compromise? What terms are acceptable to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Pan pointed at Ranunculus and the other three Volanter. “If they come along to Iruedim, you can kiss any trade or relations with the Scaldin goodbye. We will not have those things within reach.” Pan glared at Ranunculus.
Genuine shock rippled through the Volanter faces. It was the most emotion Camellia had seen from the lot of them.
“How independent,” Carex teased.
Rooks nodded to Pan. “We have a very promising deal started with them. I think we’re going to have to decline your offer.”
Ranunculus scowled. “You are Volanter. Has it really been so long that you’ve forgotten?” He spread his hands. “How long has it been since you’ve seen Volanter and really known what it means to be one of us?”
“Not long enough,” Pan hissed.
“How are you going to get back?” Carex growled.
Sotir’s voice piped through the communicators that sat in their ears. “Oh, Pan…why? The six of you need to get out of there. Then, we need to ensure we won’t be followed. ”
For the first time, Camellia felt entirely satisfied with a lie; the lie that Pan told about her ghost circle would now serve as their ticket out.