And when Krinata had the chance to cut him off, as he had cut off Takora, she hadn't done it. Krinata, herself, was no threat to him.
The trouble her actions caused him was probably the result of his Inversion of her Oliat. And what he really feared was the incredible force he had unleashed with that Inversion. The splashback from that force was naturally overwhelming. He would simply have to grow strong enough to absorb it and damp it down, or wait it out. It wasn't something to fear, it was something to cope with and learn from. It was a real threat only if he was too afraid of it to Observe it properly.
He had been tying himself in knots over nothing.
How absurd to fear truth. He couldn't imagine where he had picked up such a twist to his thinking. It was totally out of character. Darllanyu had known him long enough to be disturbed by the change, and—No wonder Grisnilter was so worried about me! He must have thought Aliom had taught me to fear truth. But then, why would he have trusted me with his Archive?
Again revelation shattered him. Every brush with the Archive made him want the Archive, undermining his priesthood—because carrying an Archive was initiatory, like the Aliom induction. It wrought permanent change. Grisnilter did that to me on purpose! And Jindigar had been vulnerable because of the blind spots his fear of Krinata created.
Well, no more. He was ashamed of what he'd put his people through, but it would end now. He would make the Center's decisions as necessary, and he would face what he had to face to finish with Oliat, for, he realized, he had just received his induction into the Observing Priesthood.
Peace throbbing silently through him for the first time in far too long, Jindigar came to full awareness. As always after this discipline, he was cold. His dark indigo hands lay spread before him, the pure energy of the world rising through them now without distortion. / have joined Dushaun and Phanphihy.
On the worldcircle, a short way in front of his hands, were two bare feet, Dushau feet, female feet—dark, dark indigo feet; elderly feet, but the toes were slightly inflamed with budding nails. Still struggling to focus his eyes, Jindigar forced movement into his neck and followed his gaze up the two trousered legs, and up and up to find Trinarvil looking down at him, her face in repose, radiant.
As his eyes made contact she effaced herself and bent to place both her hands, palm down, on the ground before him– doing homage to the Active Priest, saying by that silent gesture, "You have, by the exercise of your craft, given the world into my hands and shown me how I'm a part of it."
Jindigar had not intended to perform in that role. He had done his discipline to maintain himself and the community at large, as an Inactive Priest must, not for the service of any individual, as the Active do. / mustn't become Active yet.
He pulled his hands back from the circle and rose stiffly. It was nearly midnight. Without disturbing him his Oliat had assembled in the Temple, and now they closed in around him poised to work, as if there had never been strife among them. His exercise had steadied the Dushau, but he couldn't guess what had brought Krinata peace with herself.
He had not felt them around him so harmoniously since the moment before the planned weddings when they began to Dissolve. There had been risk then. Now it was almost certain that someone would die. Deep revelations aside, he was ruefully aware that he still would not accept any deaths. Some stubborn part of himself was convinced that there was a way for all of them to survive. But there isn't.
He took the linkages and brought them into balance, tuning now for the shaleiliu hum, strongly perceptible under the static of Eithlarin's nebulous link. And even amid the static, that ineffable tone appeared. His Oliat strained to expand awareness, but this operation required compressed awareness, so he let them encompass only the area right about the settlement, carefully keeping to the macro-scale.
On the plain above the cliff the Holot had made a good start at creating a pond, though darkness had now stopped the work. Near the cliff edge, at the head of the rope and winch lift, the Holot had left their digging tools as a sign to the Gifters that they would return. The lift platform rested at the bottom of the cliff, the ropes slack and beaded with moisture from the fog off the river. The Gifters were asleep now, too, but it was clear to the Oliat that the Gifter hive was accepting the Holot gift.
The cornfields were dotted with barrels of Lehiroh oil, and some of the rows had already been treated. A crew of exhausted Lehiroh, humans, and Cassrians worked by torchlight to treat the rest of the field as well as the Cassrians' pond. Otherwise things were very quiet, the night's stillness broken only by an occasional nocturnal hunter's cry. If nothing else happened, the colony would survive very well indeed.
Jindigar felt that he should run a full check on the entire colony, searching for the seeds of the next disaster, but there was no time and no strength for that. As beautifully as his Oliat was functioning now, there was no way to guarantee that they could keep it up for long. And they might cause more harm than they could prevent by lingering. So he brought them back, focusing in closer and closer.
Across the square that separated the Aliom Temple from the Historians', Jindigar sensed Threntisn sitting on the Historians' porch, watching the Aliom Temple by the meager light of the moon, knowing what they were trying.
In the worldcircle before them Trinarvil administered one last drug to Eithlarin, then gathered her things and stepped out of the marked area. She didn't go far, however, but stood to watch from the shadows as the Oliat drifted into the world-circle, forming up with Eithlarin in the Protector's position.
Jindigar scanned his officers. Krinata was relaxed enough to accept the bizarre mixture of images from the Oliat's multi-awareness. Llistyien and Venlagar were the most stable, and this time, when Jindigar set the linkages and turned them over to Venlagar, the Inreach didn't fumble.
But Darllanyu was a nexus of foment. Zannesu, in the Office of Receptor, was already fighting his response to Bar's desire, unwilling to stir up the needs that had twice sent him after Eithlarin. //Zannesu, in this operation you must permit yourself to respond. I know how hard it is, but for Eithlarin you must. Dar is going to Formulate Renewal, and Llistyien will Emulate it for us. You will Receive that force, making it part of the Oliat.//
//If we let that loose among us, we'll never stop it, Jindigar,// warned Venlagar, glancing at Llistyien.
//We're not going to stop it. Eithlarin will have to Protect us. She will return for that—to Protect for Zannesu. The very force of Renewal itself will draw her. And it will be no trick. The force of Renewal will disrupt the linkages and destroy the, Oliat—through Dissolution, I hope.//
//We've discussed all this, and we agreed to try it,// Darllanyu reminded them impatiently. //We must risk it.//
Habitually fighting the symptoms of onset, Jindigar curbed an impulse to promise, / will keep you safe. And then, though he did not utter the words, he let the feeling possess him, savoring it as he let her presence suffuse his awareness. Her eyes sought him. Rapture engulfed her.
Happiness shook Jindigar. He yielded, his neck throbbing with a sweet ache at once familiar and strange, urgent and fearsome.
The Oliat braced for the grating shock of dysattunement. Jindigar groped for the world attunement and found that the circle still resonated with the fading overtone of Dushaun he had evoked. Familiar, comforting, it let them take life from this alien world and hope for a home.