Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [163]
As their exercise reached a dramatic crescendo, Celli watched an amazing thing happen. On the ground where her bare foot had lightly brushed against an exposed worldtree root—where Beneto said the concentrated verdani power lay hidden—a sudden flash of green appeared. As if germinated by the creative power of her movements, a bright new leaf emerged, spun out of dead cells and air. The newborn plant stretched upward.
Solimar caught another branch and swung himself up. He recentered his balance, coiling strength in his thigh muscles, and jumped. Immediately after he leapt, the branch behind him swelled, flaking off black ash and bark until it straightened like an unfurling fist. Reservoirs of energy pumped up from the deep roots into the once-towering tree. Fresh pale green fronds burst from previously unseen buds at the ends of the bough.
On the ground, Beneto “waded” through the soil to a different tree now. He pressed both wooden hands against the black scab of dead bark, then pushed his arms into the core of the thick trunk.
As Celli and Solimar continued to pirouette through the scorched ruins, wherever their feet and hands touched, the wounded worldforest found the energy to reconstruct part of itself. Every place they touched was like a foot splashing into a puddle, spraying life instead of water droplets.
The two of them ran and dove in a Theron combination of ballet and gymnastics, picking up speed. Wherever they passed, their physical movement and their enthusiasm began to heal the worldforest and reawaken life from the scorched death around them. Celli laughed in delight.
Fresh leaves and fronds curled forth. Treelings sprang out of the ground, trembling with the explosive growth. The air smelled moist, spicy, fresh.
Beneto extricated himself from the shuddering tree like a surgeon withdrawing from a deep wound. He called to the dancers. “Life is movement and exhilaration. Through your treedance, you spread that essence of life. Continue! Show the weary trees the meaning of existence again.”
At the moment, Celli didn’t care about green priest philosophy or explanations. She was enjoying herself too much. All she needed to know was that it was working—for the worldforest, for herself, for Solimar, for Beneto.
She and Solimar danced for hours, heedless of the time passing, barely feeling their own weariness. Finally, as the colors of dusk brushed the Theron sky, the two dancers fell together to the ground in absolute exhaustion, surrounded by miraculous new foliage. Sweaty and soot-smeared, Celli had never felt so deeply satisfied in her life. Solimar put his arm around her and drew her close, then they kissed quickly and surprisingly, a gesture of joy as much as romance.
“You two have done a great thing today.” Still knee-deep in the soil, Beneto stopped in front of them. “I hope you will be willing to do it again.”
Celli looked around, filled with wonder. To her, it seemed as if the worldforest had taken a deep breath and regained its power. They had thrown a splash of cold water into the weary worldforest’s face. She rested her shoulders against Solimar’s strong chest. “We could manage that.”
Beneto spread his hands out, connecting to the worldforest through telink. He seemed entirely pleased. “Now we are much stronger. The verdani keeps calling, calling, though the message went out long ago. Before long, our help will arrive.”
Chapter 80—BASIL WENCESLAS
The Chairman didn’t take pleasure in such a spectacle, but dammit, Prince Daniel deserved what he was about to face. This behavior had to be nipped in the bud. Immediately. And Peter needed to understand the consequences of his actions even more than his shameful heir apparent did.
Pretending to be supportive, Basil wore his finest slick-fabric suit; his steel-gray hair was perfectly styled and arranged. He wished Sarein could be here at his side right now. She had sent a message that she would soon return. Had she accomplished her mission yet, or had even Sarein let him down? Was there a