To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [77]
Sometimes, when sunlight stole into the cave, she pointed in childish delight at the play of shadows over the rock, but mostly she sat there in silence, smiling at nothing.
From time to time, Troi tried to rouse the ambassador from her abstracted state, but all attempts at contact, physical or mental, failed. Still Troi persisted, talking to Lelys even though she knew better than to expect a rational answer.
“Here, hold this,” she directed, kneeling to replace the blanket. “You will catch cold if you do not—” A sudden commotion from the cave mouth caught her ear. She glanced at the guards. They were alert, wary.
They must have heard it too. She straightened, her bones aching from the cold, and took a few tentative steps toward the light.
Always when she had approached the cave mouth before this, the guards had met her while she still stood within the shadows of the entryway and urged her back with terse commands and the more solid arguments of their weapons. They carried the Ashkaarian equivalent of pitchforks, and the long, sharp tines were a glittering threat that Troi wisely chose to heed. This time, though, some strange spell had fallen over her warders. They stood like slabs of marble, their faces a study in dumb amazement and heartshaking fear. They made no move to block her when she passed between them and out into the sunshine.
A crowd of Ashkaarians was trekking up the mountain, singing, shouting, and waving makeshift banners, but that wasn’t the sight that had paralyzed the guards. Troi herself gasped aloud when she saw who was leading the mob. Torrents of red sparks leaping from the palm of one hand, Geordi La Forge tossed whirling silver pinwheels from the other. They arced above his head and linked themselves together to create the shape of a laughing girl wearing wings that were flowers. Her grass-green hair streamed out and tumbled down over the crowd, becoming a waterfall where fish leaped and jewel-eyed insects danced above the spray.
Immediately behind him walked the girl Ma’adrys and Mr. Data. The spray from the illusory waterfall wafted over Ma’adrys’s head like a luminous canopy.
She still wore her simple green robes from Ne’elat, but now there was an otherworldly glow about them.
Tiny lights like captive fireflies winked here and there in her hair, and the silver netting gave off random rays of piercing brightness.
Watching carefully, Troi noticed how the glow and the lights faded in and out depending on how near or far the girl was from Geordi. A hole-clip! Troi realized.
He must have a miniature hole-clip projector hidden on him somewhere.
The image of the flower-winged girl reappeared and came to rest before the cave mouth where it made a pretty curtsey to Troi. The guards took one last look, dropped their weapons, and dashed away farther up the mountain. Troi walked past the projection of the sylph and greeted Geordi with a sotto voce, “Nice touch. Where is it?” “Up my sleeve.” he replied just as softly. “Not a very original hiding place, but—” He shrugged and smiled briefly, for her eyes alone.
Ma’adrys touched his arm. “Is all well?” she asked urgently.
“Sshhh,” he cautioned. “Don’t let them see you looking anxious.” He nodded to where the villagers, led by Bilik oberyin, stood a respectful and prudent distance from Ma’adrys and her otherworldly escort.
“Remember: You’re in command. You’re supposed to make them feel uneasy. Ask—nomdemand to have the other captive brought to you.” Ma’adrys nodded and followed Geordi’s lead. The girl carried herself as if she’d been born to give orders.
The villagers scurried to obey, rushing into the cave and bringing Lelys out to join the others. The Orakisan ambassador looked all around her, smiling like a happy child on holiday.
“The captives have been returned to us, as the starlords decreed it must be. The Balance stands ready to be restored. Now, let justice be served!” Ma’adrys cried.
“Justice or vengeance?” Bilik asked. The oberyin glowered at Ma’adrys, who returned