Metal Swarm - Kevin J. Anderson [149]
Turning back, he saw that Zhett had grasped her father's hands. She looked more beautiful now than Patrick had ever seen her, though she appeared in misty focus through the tears in his eyes.
‘Don't be stubborn, Dad. You know this isn't right. Let him come back.'
Kellum raised his arms. ‘All right, you heard it. A Roamer has spoken on behalf of this man. Get him off of that plank.‘ Looking incredibly relieved, the burly man muttered, 'It's about time, by damn. How much longer did you expect me to keep up this charade?‘
Weak and disoriented, Patrick stumbled back to the solid deck, and Zhett threw her arms around him and pulled him close. He stared into her bottomless black eyes. ‘I didn't know if you were going to do that or not.'
‘Neither did I. I decided at the last minute.' She pulled away and put her hands on her hips. ‘You'd better be worth it.'
Kellum walked up to them, thrusting his chest forward. ‘I knew she would change her mind.' He grinned at his daughter. ‘You took your sweet time, though - time enough for us all to develop an ulcer. Who knows what you did to this poor young man by tormenting him like that?'
‘Tormenting him? He was sentenced to death! I saved him.'
‘No you didn't, my sweet.' Kellum shook his head. Patrick looked from Zhett to her father, who seemed full of himself, as if he knew a secret joke. The man winked at Patrick. ‘Oh, come now! I was just waiting for my daughter to come to her senses. I had skimmers with nets already prepared. They would have caught you - eventually.'
Patrick couldn't decide whether to faint or swing a punch at the clan leader. Zhett glowered at her father, but she didn't loosen her grip on Patrick. ‘You're still on probation, as far as I'm concerned.'
Patrick didn't know if she was speaking to him or to her father.
Ninety-three
Celli
As an acolyte, Celli learned much about history and folklore from reading aloud to the worldtrees. Sitting among I the high fronds, she recited story after story, chronicle after chronicle, each one new to her. In her younger days, she had not been overly interested in scholarly pursuits, preferring to run with friends and play in the forest. Now though, she found the information fascinating, and she presumed the verdani mind did, as well.
Celli looked into the empty blue sky. Somewhere high above was the thorny treeship that Beneto had become, along with eight other verdani vessels, so far away. As a green priest, she would be able to contact him via telink whenever she wanted. She couldn't wait.
With a buzzing, puttering sound, Solimar circled above her in his gliderbike. When she waved at him, he did a loop in the air to show off. He loved to take her for rides, and she particularly enjoyed sitting close behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist, leaning her cheek against his smooth back. He often took them in steep dives, and she knew it was just so she would hold on tighter.
Several young acolytes sat in leafy bowers, while older green priests gathered nearby, deep in discussion. Though Celli tried to concentrate on reading her stories, this particular debate among the usually quiet emerald-skinned men and women intrigued her. Yarrod was speaking with great enthusiasm, his eyes shining, his face wearing a sincere smile. Recently, he had been more vibrant than she'd ever seen him, changed in a way she could not define.
Yarrod and many other green priests had accepted the strange synthesis of and telink, which Kolker had taught them from far-off Ildira. Some of the green priests showed healthy, but cautious, curiosity, and the worldforest itself was interested in the phenomenon. When she became a green priest, Celli would have to face the same decision. Someday soon, when she was a green priest…
A disturbance rippled among them, and the worldtrees seemed to shiver. The younger acolytes became alarmed and anxious. The instructor glanced from the sky to the clumps of leaves. Acolytes, down!‘