Once again, Hulm turned away from his child and the Tokoloshe who surrounded him – and saw Rumundulu and Bulamalayo standing in front of him.
“My friend, we must speak together,” Rumundulu said.
The troubled look in the Tokoloshes’ eyes told Hulm that this would not be an ordinary conversation.
3
The Emperor Gebrem and the Seer Kyroun were in the Gebbi Senafa – and in the Oneness. The co-rulers of the Matile Mara Empire sat facing each other in Agaw’s Chamber. Kyroun’s presence there was unprecedented; never before had anyone other than an Emperor been permitted to enter the royal sanctuary. Then again, never before had a foreigner held a position as high as Leba.
Both men wore plain, dark-blue chammas; the emblems of their status would have been out of place in the austere environs of Agaw’s Chamber. Their eyes were closed, and the expression each man’s face bore was both somber and serene.
Within the Oneness, the Emperor and the Leba were not in the Palace, or even in Khambawe. They were standing on the crimson sand of Jayaya’s beach. Tiyana stood with them.
A warm, soothing breeze blew in from the sea. In the Oneness, the three Adepts could experience the touch of the wind – but they felt as though the wind was passing through their bodies rather than around them.
As if she were weaving a story-tapestry in the air, Tiyana showed her father and the Seer what she and the other Almovaads had accomplished on the islands. Even though the three of them were standing on the beach, in the Oneness they could be anywhere ... or everywhere, as in more than one place at the same time. An unwary Initiate could become hopelessly lost in the Oneness, fluttering frantically from dimension to dimension in search of his or her body before it succumbed to thirst and starvation.
They watched as the surviving Uloans rebuilt the homes that had been destroyed during the rampage of the mwiti-plants. Dead ubia-vines and stiffened mwiti-roots had long since been cleared away or used as fuel for cooking-fires. The foliage that remained on the islands grew lush and luxuriant, and moved only when it was stirred by the wind. The taint of Legaba’s ashuma had long since disappeared, along with the vengeful spirits of the Kipalende.
If the people of Jayaya and the other Uloan islands had possessed the ability to foresee what Retribution Time would bring them, they would have slain Jass Imbiah and all her huangi. As a result of what Jass Imbiah had unleashed, the islands’ population had been more than decimated. The only men left were those who had been too old to join the invasion force; the rest of the survivors were women and children. Their cities and towns lay in ruins that were only now being reconstructed, and food and water were in scarce supply.
Still, the survivors were free from Legaba. No more spider-scars marred their skin. They were allowing their hair to grow, and their hopes as well. Most importantly, they were able to envision a future beyond the shattered dream of Retribution Time – a future with Almovaar, their new savior-god.
On all the inhabited islands, the Almovaads walked among the Uloans, teaching them new ways of living and believing. The islanders had long since become accustomed to the presence of those whom they had previously derided as accursed blankskins, and even the Fidi, whose aspect had at first been disconcerting. Now, some of the Uloans had donned the blue robes of the Believers.
Gebrem looked with pride at what Tiyana had achieved, much of which had been under her own initiative. Neither he nor Kyroun had suggested the removal of the Uloans’ spider-scars. And they had not been aware of the presence of the Kipalendes’ spirits in the mwiti-plants. The decisions Tiyana had made then had been hers alone; Gebrem and Kyroun had done nothing more than observe her progress from the vantage point of the Oneness.
Now she stood before them in that same Oneness, in and out of Jayaya at the same time, the red sand of the beach seeming to stretch into infinity while images of ghostlike Uloans hard at work reshaping their lives surrounded them. Tiyana was clad in a plain blue chamma, but she looked more like a goddess now than she had when she wore the Mask of Nama-kwah and danced on the waves during First Calling not so long in the past.
Sunlight glistened on her smooth ebony skin and flashed in brilliant daylight constellations from the gold and silver beads woven into the long braids of her hair. Confidence – but not arrogance – shone in her dark eyes as she smiled at her two mentors.
“Daughter, you have done well,” Gebrem said.
“I agree,” said Kyroun.
“Thank you, Father,” Tiyana said.
Her words and her smile were meant as much for Kyroun as for Gebrem, for in the ways of Oneness and the Almovaads, he was her other father. Because of him, she was a new person. The Seer answered her with a smile of his own, which was echoed by the Emperor.
“But there is so much more to do,” Tiyana added.
“Yes, there is,” Kyroun said. “But the Uloans must do it for themselves. You cannot stay with them forever.”
“It is time for you to return to Khambawe,” Gebrem said. “There is much to be done among our own people as well.”
Tiyana’s smile faded as she realized that the some of the plans she had made for the further regeneration of the Uloans would now have to proceed without her. Then she sighed, and nodded.
“You are right,” she said. “We will prepare the ships and leave within a few days.”
“We will be glad to have you back,” Gebrem said.
Again, Tiyana nodded.
With that, the Emperor and the Leba detached their consciousness from the Oneness. Tiyana and the scarlet
