Dark Matters_ Shadow of Heaven (Book 3) - Christie Golden [57]
It had spoken to this being, told him once that he could choose to be the great ally or the great enemy. That he could turn his long life toward helping others
instead of imprisoning them, that he could find comfort and richness in his interaction with the Sshoush-shin. And so he had, until the dark matter had come.
And now, he would again.
As it had done before, it entered into the very cells of the ancient being who called himself Aren Yashar. It trembled along his nerves, coasted through his veins, planted warm affection in his brain. Once, Aren had demanded love from the Entity it could not give. Now, there was nothing it could not love, and it sent that love to the Rhulani.
All is not lost. The healing can begin again. You will find that the Sshoush-shin welcome your aid. Forgive them, as I have forgiven you, and you will know love and belonging once more.
Tall and still handsome, as the Entity remembered, but thin and worn and consumed with fear and hate, Aren Yashar shuddered as he felt the Entity's healing presence. He fell to his knees, alone in the cave that had become his dwelling place, and gasped. His hands came up to his hearts and pressed hard on his chest, as if he could touch those aches and calm the pain inside them. The Entity tasted the bittersweet joy that flooded him.
"You," he whispered.
CHAPTER 13
PERSONAL LOG, STARDATE WHENEVER. I REGRET TO SAY THAT Trima and I have been avoiding one another ever since her confession a couple of nights ago. She's probably sorry she told me, and I am at a total loss as to what to say or do. I don't envy her one bit. Her role as Culil would be difficult under any circumstances, and to have obtained it the way she did, and to be what she is-a woman divided-well, all I can say is I'm glad it's not me.
Tom realized that the words he had just written were all squiggly. His hand was shaking. He swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.
On the other hand, Trima appears to be well, something I most certainly am not. Soliss can't explain it. It's nothing I've eaten, I don't think I've been bitten by any nasty little insect, and it doesn't seem to be any one of the eighty-three or so fevers he's familiar
with. I'm tired, and weak. It almost feels as though I'm recovering from an injury or something, like I've lost a lot of blood. I'm craving meat on the rarer side these days.
That was enough. The words were almost too shaky to read, so he abandoned his log for the day. He hated this. He couldn't contribute any more, and did not want to feel like a charity case. His mind made up, he rose, rather unsteadily, and made his way to Trima's hut They had to do something.
Tentatively, Paris knocked on the door. "Enter," she called in her cool voice.
He did so, and gave her a faint smile. Her pale blue brows came together in a frown of concern. "Paris, you do not look at all well."
"Yeah, so Soliss tells me. But I can't stand any more tree-bark tea, so I thought I'd come while away some time with you."
She glanced down. She had not risen, but had remained seated on the soft floor cushions. "What is it you require?'
"A trip home." He sat down, quickly, before he fell down. "I know you said you don't like to contact the Alilann frequently, but we both thought they'd have come for me by now."
She nodded. "I have received no more messages. I do not understand what's happening."
Tom thought he might. Contrary to what he had just said, he asked for a cup of tea before he began. He'd need it to keep his throat wet through what was certain to be a long story. He took a sip, and then began. He told Trima everything, from Telek R'Mor's unexpected contacting of the ship to the discovery of the dreadful nature of the