Again, Uldyssian had no good answer.
“You’re tired,” the merchant’s daughter continued. “You need rest.”
He nodded. Suddenly, it was all Uldyssian could do just to stand. Even he had to admit that nothing good would come of attempting any more searches today.
“I promised the others that we’d leave tomorrow,” he informed her. “Tell them that we’ll do so at first light.”
“I should stay with you—”
“No. Please tell them, Serenthia.” With that, Uldyssian purposely retreated to a spot near the closest of the fires and immediately laid down. He eyed the flames, noticing belatedly that Serenthia still watched him. Finally, her expression masked, she walked away to do as he had requested.
Uldyssian shut his eyes. Even though he was so very tired and had agreed to get rest, he knew that he would not sleep. How could he? His brother was very likely dead. Uldyssian already knew that he would spend the entire night going over every search for the hundredth time, seeking some error he had made. Over and over he would analyze everything that he had done—
A soft hand on Uldyssian’s shoulder gently shook him awake. He stiffened and a grin started to cross his face, for he had just been dreaming that Mendeln had returned unharmed. However, glancing up, his smile faltered, for he saw that it was Serenthia awakening him…and that above her, light had begun filtering through the foliage.
“I had them let you sleep as long as possible,” she quietly told him. “The others are nearly ready to depart.”
An intense feeling of guilt washed over him, as if he had somehow betrayed his brother by actually sleeping. “You should’ve woken me much sooner!” Uldyssian blurted, his anger unreasonable even to himself. After all, the woman leaning over him was almost as concerned about Mendeln as he was.
“I need to do one more search! I think that this time I can find—”
His companion frowned sadly. “If I thought you had any chance at all, Uldyssian, I’d be there at your side. You know that. I can see it in your face, though. You don’t have any new idea, do you? You just want to search and search, isn’t that right? Search until you find him…”
“Yes…no…but…”
“You’ve done all you could for Mendeln…just as you did for Achilios. We have to move on, even if I don’t want to any more than you. For the sake of all the rest…and you, too…there’s no other choice. Mendeln would be the first one to tell you that. You know he would.”
There was nothing more he could say. Uldyssian rose, took one look at the jungle, and then summoned Tomo to him.
“Can we make it to Hashir in four more days?”
“If we walk long and hard, Master Uldyssian. I would prefer to say five, if you please.”
“We make it in four.”
Tomo bowed. “Yes, Master Uldyssian.”
“We make it in four and we lose no one else along the way. I want that understood.” The son of Diomedes fought to keep his tone even. “No one else.”
“Yes, Master Uldyssian.”
Uldyssian looked at Serenthia. She gave him a determined smile and repeated his oath. “No one else.”
With her at his side and Tomo in his wake, he marched to the head of the already waiting throng.
Tomo rushed to Romus and Saron, whispering animatedly to the pair. What Uldyssian had demanded would quickly spread to the rest, just as he wanted.
Once in the lead, Uldyssian nodded back at his followers, then continued on. Silently, the edyrem flowed after.
They made great distance that day, driven for the most part by Uldyssian’s determination to now get as far away as he could from where his brother had vanished. By the end of the trek, even he felt every muscle scream. Guilt at how some of the others, especially the women and children, had probably suffered made him promise to the weary group that the next day would go much easier.
But it did not. Barely had they begun their trek when a storm swept across the jungle, a violent storm that forced Uldyssian to finally call a halt.
“It looks to last the whole day!” shouted Romus, shielding his eyes from debris torn up by the wind.
The rain coursed down like a thousand battering rams, forcing people to take what shelter they could.
Those with a better sense of their abilities created invisible barriers above themselves and others, but the longer and harder the rain fell, the more those weakened or dissipated entirely.
“Keep everyone together!” Uldyssian cursed the storm, certain somehow that it was working in league with Lilith and the Triune.
Serenthia struggled to hold on to his arm. “Something must be done about it! You must do something about it!”
Her words brought back undesired recollections. Lilith—as Lylia—had at one time suggested much the same thing. Then, it had concerned the storm clouds over Seram and its surrounding region. That storm had been dispersed, but he had later discovered that it had been more due to the demoness’s work than his own.
“No…” Uldyssian growled, not wishing to relive that time in any way. “No…I can’t…”
A nearby tree creaked ominously. Leaves and jagged branches flew through the air. A woman screamed as a terrible gust tossed her back into her companions. Children cried. Despite all that they had been given, despite all that they had learned, even the most talented of the edyrem began to give in to their fears and exhaustion.
Uldyssian knew that he should attempt something, even if only to remind the others of what they were capable. The band was not long from Hashir. They had to be ready to face what might be a more terrible foe despite the temple’s smaller size, for surely Hashir would be forewarned.
Yet, his will was weak, worn as it still was by Mendeln’s loss. He shook his head, fighting with himself—
Without warning, Serenthia let go of him. Uldyssian grabbed for her but missed. To his surprise, she stepped into the most open area around them, where the storm threatened worst. Although already drenched to the skin, Cyrus’s daughter stood proud and tall. She held high the spear, brandishing it at the sinister black clouds.
“Away with you!” Serenthia shouted at the top of her lungs at the dark sky. “Away!”
Seeing her there, doing futilely what he might actually be able to accomplish, filled Uldyssian with incredible remorse. Mendeln would not have wanted him acting this way because of him. If there was any hope that Uldyssian could stop this raging tempest, then it behooved him at the very least to make the attempt—
But that thought died as something incredible unfolded. Like some warrior goddess, Serenthia continued to not only defy the elements, but demanded that they bow to her. She waved the spear as if ready to toss it into the heart of the storm…
And then…and then the rain slowed, finally ceasing altogether. The wind died down to a mere whisper. The black clouds faded to gray and then began to disperse.
The others—Uldyssian included—stood awestruck by this miracle. An aura surrounded Serenthia, a brilliant golden aura. Yet, she stood as if unnoticing of this or any of the other phenomena. Instead, she continued to demand obedience from the sky…and received it.
The last of the clouds melted away. A hush settled over the dense jungle, not even the multitude of insects usually present letting out so much as a single sound.
Arms dropping to her sides, Serenthia let out a gasp. Her body shook and the spear dropped from her grip. At the same time, the aura disappeared.
Slowly, very slowly, Serenthia looked over her shoulder at Uldyssian. Her face stone white, her breathing rapid, she managed to blurt, “I…did it…didn’t I?”
He nodded, feeling both shame and exhilaration. Serenthia had done what he should have instinctively chosen to do. In the process, she had revealed a level of power that only he had so far exhibited. She should not have had to put herself through so much…but the fact that she had just proven what Uldyssian had always preached finally stirred him to life.