Eye of the Ocean Book 3 Ji'jin Station

Eye of the Ocean – Book 3: Ji’Jin Station
“... Kori...” He stopped, that was one out of order. “... Peecit...” he continued.
She hadn't been in the Assembly but she was here and her name just as out of
order but the two of them could perhaps make a separate group. And Hic'lic. The
extent of the garden here may very well have included the small courtyard room
where Ulanda's people had waited. A selection there as well. Cici was missing, as
well as those serving the Clan pair and whatever others had been in the area
affected.
He continued with a listing of his people now, he would do those who were
neither, last. “Lanasi, you...” A gesture to the Salin. “... D'pin'ka, Qta, cel'Inis...”
He forgot the name of the other guard, the color and form of her braid said she
was a Security third but the woman was new in her assignment to his personal
staff.
“Overpriest?” she asked in plain tongue, noticing him looking at her.
“Op'ki'na,” he said firmly and she looked towards Lanasi as his tass'alt walked
towards them. “Another out of order.” The guard's worried look had become more
immediate.
“The ti'Linn is dead,” Lanasi said as though he had asked. “This is Kin cel'Pan.”
“How couldn't I have known that?”
A gesture to the guard to remain and Lanasi took his arm, fingers wrapped in
his braid ends as she led him away. The design was a variant on the Wind in the
Branches, only slightly different than what Ulanda had worn for the Opening.
“She's agreed to talk.”
“I can feel them,” he said.
“I know you can.”
“They can't hear me.”
She looked behind them to the open door to the corridor. Those remaining
there had dwindled to Security, a couple of human Salin from Alisim Temple and
four of his. Not familiar to him but they wore his markings and weren't Altasimic
human or Zimmer. The last two groups constantly changed, only the security
remained constant. Earlier, the sound of a Justice Cruiser landing nearby had
competed with the breaking of the storm. They were fools to bother, he thought
and had said so. They hadn't heard him.
“Had you gotten any further?” Lanasi asked.
“The corridor here. I can feel the Host...the Net.” But they couldn't feel him.
“The people that were here,” Lanasi insisted.
“Those missing.”
“Yes,” she sighed, leaning into him as she walked.
Splinters of wood crushed under his feet. Pale wood with a lavender fleck, the
rings were the same color, but the surface had once been painted with bright red
lacquer. Yellow grass and the pine trees nearest the pond were dead, brown with
most the needles fallen. A dry scent, like the joss sticks. A musk though, not
Laurel Hickey www.2morrow.bc.ca