Surfacing Ch. 36

Again Xalli'hoon seemed to be pouting in stubborn refusal.

"You stopped that Ulitharid from using me to stab a dagger into her heart, Xalli'hoon!" Shyntre blurted as his own silent frustration spiked and he stood up. "You saved her! You didn't want her killed, for whatever Goddess-damned reason, but she won't wake up now because of that fucking 'flayer, and sooner or later her body will atrophy without constant magic and tending to keep her alive! Even then, her brain might be permanently damaged, and her baby might suffer deformities."

Morix seemed irritated at the outburst, but he didn't interrupt and for that reason Shyntre didn't care.

"You're wasting what little time *she* has left by making this about your arrogance and whether or not to *deign* to use a spoken tongue! Fuck your arrogance, and do what the Dragonchild has asked before we lose patience! Talk!"

Shyntre knew he had given the mindflayer the reason they were pressing her yet also wouldn't harm her: they wanted something from her, they wanted her help and that gave her leverage. But better to get the deal going and break the stalemate!

During his barrage, however, Xalli'hoon had shifted her sitting position, balanced on one hip while both her arms wrapped around herself, everything rigid as she looked at her armored hand and arm, perhaps imagining what it looked like beneath. Shyntre wasn't sure he believed it, but he recognized the body language. So did a few others, he'd wager.

She was ashamed. Shyntre saw self-loathing, very similar to his own at times at times in his life.

"Uh," he stuttered, trying to think through that genuine surprise.

"You *are* asking her to strip naked so we can all gawk at her, Dark Priest," Lethrix commented. "You realize that now?"

"Yes," the young mage admitted without much resistance. "I...that wasn't my main concern. Sirana is my main concern."

"As is mine," Morix agreed. "If just her mask would come off, I would not insist on her nudity, Sire."

"We can offer a blanket," Rohenvi said. "I am not sure we have a robe in her size."

Xalli'hoon didn't lift her head, but she signed, *Cannot mind-heal corrupt one.*

"Her name is Sirana," Morix said patiently, not yet acknowledging the denial that she could help. "And this is how you sign her name. Look."

Xalli'hoon did, observing the gesture as he repeated it a few times.

"Show me 'Sirana.'"

Grudgingly, the prisoner repeated, *Sirana. Cannot mind-heal Sirana.*

"So certain? If I were on the Surface, I would be taking her to a psion like you now. An individual, and a mind-mage."

*No such,* she signed.

"There is such. The psions of the Surface live in Sunlight. They live on the edge between an Elder Mind and the Chaos of Drow. You are more now like him, the one I've met, you only have never seen Sunlight."

This thought went deep, as Xalli'hoon was almost perfectly still for a while. Shyntre actually wanted to know what she was thinking, or remembering. Swiftly she lifted her head and looked at Lethrix, perhaps beseeching him, as he was the only one willing and able to hear her thoughts.

The Black Dragon smiled, and it was the warmest Shyntre had ever seen on the beast's face. "Morixxyleth does not lie about this, Xalli." His metallic eyes seemed to glint in the low glow inside the tent. "I would remind you that you have met this psion. You cannot lie even to yourself about that, we have both seen it."

Another shiver and...Shyntre heard a very small sound from behind her mask. Not a word, but perhaps a moan or a whimper. Rohenvi had retrieved a blanket from somewhere, handed it to Gaelan, who extended it to Jael. Morix turned slightly and reached for the blanket from her and crouched to set it upon the ground where Xalli'hoon presumably could see it. Certainly she could reach it.

"You must come out and speak with us," Morix insisted. "We will bargain with you."

*Nothing wanted,* she refused, a knee-jerk response.

"That could only be true if you were at peace in this form," he replied. "Yet even for how you see it, you have value to us."

*Short value,* she signed.

"Think of it as a first step at a forked tunnel. You help us, you help Sirana and her child, you may earn a path beyond escaping into exile, hunted, hated everywhere, and dying alone. You refuse to help us, and think only to escape? I promise this is your only path, and it is not a threat. We all know this path as individuals. Bargains are necessary to earn further choices, Xalli'hoon. There is no Elder Mind making the choices for us, and you chose to be one of us. We are possibly the only group of outcasts in the Underdark who will not hurt you unless you hurt us."

A tremor passed through her hearing that, and for a long while she did not respond. Morix seemed to have said all he would for the moment and sat down more comfortably as well, welcoming Jael as she went to snuggle against him with a further curious look at the flayer-hybrid.

There was enough change in the atmosphere that Shyntre could ease back as well and try to be patient. He turned to check Sirana's vitals again, gently caressing her firm bump over the blanket, and Matron Thalluen was there soon to check for herself as well, Vekika now held in her sire's arms. Rohenvi massaged her arms and legs to help with the circulation, and the two made eye contact over her Daughter as the elder female frowned sadly.

*I know you tried to explain, but...* Her graceful gesture's paused as the Matron glanced toward Xalli'hoon. *I still don't understand.*

Shyntre nodded. *But...you see it anyway?*

The Matron's expression—that moment of considering he'd first seen in the library as he taught a new Red Sister of things beyond their stone ceiling—was a frightening likeness to her comatose Daughter.

*I do see it, yes. Perhaps that is all that is necessary now.*

As those within the tent stopped paying focused and explicit attention on her, their prisoner found she could not maintain her tension, though she was still deep in thought. Perhaps Lethrix was speaking to her, or perhaps he was only staring outside the tent as it looked.

Gaelan and Ruk took it as an opportunity to eat, feeding Natia as well, and Morix and Jael joined them. There was nothing all that fresh, trail rations and the like, but Shyntre caught the mindflayer turning her mask toward them, especially when they took a bite, and he hoped it meant they would get another opportunity soon to bargain. If she was hungry, she probably couldn't eat inside that suit, either...

Then her stomach rumbled audibly and Morix straightened up, ready to begin anew.

"Thirsty as well?" he asked.

Xalli'hoon's mask fixed on him a few moments. *Small. Can wait.*

"The suit reduces water loss?"

She nodded.

"But you are hungry. What do you eat?"

Her body language shifted as if in subtle challenge. *Same.*

"Am I correct that you must remove your suit to eat?"

She shifted again, but nodded once. Tersely.

"If I bring you something suitable, will you eat it while it is fresh? We will talk after you've finished."

She was slightly less resistant agreeing this time; her hunger pangs must be growing.

"Very well." Morix looked at Jael, Ruk, and Shyntre in turn. "I will return soon."

Once the tent was emptied of one of the bigger bodies, Ruk shook his head slightly. "I think he was eager for this chance to hunt."

"With his size?" Jael said. "After chasing that one all over the battleground? Oh, yeah. He'll be eating first."

"But he'll bring her the brains of whatever he catches," Shyntre added, looking directly over at Xalli'hoon. "He's more like you than you might like to see, 'flayer."

Her only response was a hollow, muffled hiss.

More time passed in relative peace. Ruk had to leave to gather reports with the shadows, but before he did he tried to convince Rohenvi to go to the next tent with Vekika. She refused.

"It's almost time to feed Sirana again, I should find Kennitha anyway. You've seen neutrality enforced here. We'll be fine."

Jael and Gaelan eventually got together, whispering and signing with Natia a bit as Shyntre sat back and kept guard on his end of the tent almost as vigilant as Lethrix. Xalli'hoon spent most of the time sitting and staring—possibly some kind of meditation—but roused to observe with interest when Jael's Mother returned with Rohenvi, carrying the skins and feeding tubes and more food for the swiftly-growing baby. Shyntre somehow ended up with Vekika lying in his lap, occasionally heel-kicking at his stomach as she stared up at him curiously. The infant looked like she could be Sirana's copper-eyed sister...

Kennitha stared at the captive on her way by as well, but she whispered to Rohenvi. "Even stranger-looking sitting up. Why haven't they chained her?"

"It's not necessary," Sirana's Mother whispered back, "and we don't have any."

Kennitha's eyes flicked back toward the clearly-listening captive. "Way to tell her that."

The younger Matron was unrepentant. "She can potentially reach the psionic part of my Daughter that buried her consciousness in the first place."

"That has to be the most bizarre thing I've heard you say, Rohenvi."

"That's how the Dragonblood described it. We're negotiating."

"Looks like you're just sitting."

"Yes, well, your Daughter's 'mate' is out hunting meat for her to eat."

"Yeah, I know, he let me know so we didn't fire at him."

"Good. Now help me."

As was part of the routine by this point, the Matrons pulled back the blanket on Sirana, who was mostly nude underneath except for the swaddling wrapped tightly around her pelvis. Her Mother would check that first, and if it didn't need to be changed—this time it didn't—they would work together on the force-feeding. Sirana's belly and breasts were swollen and obvious, the disturbingly familiar, ragged scars inflamed as well.

Shyntre had found the rest of the wellness pellets he'd given her, and they had been dissolving them, one per feeding, into the slurry she ingested. After he did his part—plopping another pellet into the slurry and making sure Vekik stayed on his lap— he glanced over to see whether there was any reaction from the mindflayer.

The mage jumped in surprise, as there definitely was a reaction. Xalli'hoon had gotten much closer to see, crouched lightly on four points, and nobody had noticed except Lethrix, who simply looked bemused. Rohenvi noticed Shyntre's response and started in fright as well when she saw the creature practically at her elbow.

"Get back!" she gasped, trying to hold Sirana's dead weight steady. "Give us room, w-we need to concentrate or we damage her!"

Xalli'hoon drew back, particularly when Jael and Gaelan leaned forward threateningly, giving them plenty of room to finish up the feeding and wipe down Sirana's skin of any spillage. Once the pregnant Drow was back on her left side and comfortably covered, Rohenvi turned boldly toward Xalli'hoon, directly blocking Sirana, Shyntre, and Vekika with her own body.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Xalli'hoon shook her head at first, as if she didn't know, but she kept her mask pointed at Rohenvi. She signed, *Daughter?* And pointed at Sirana.

"Yes," the Matron answered. "She is my Daughter."

While Kennitha was signing something emphatic at Jael—who responded with, *Well, yes, she can!*—Xalli'hoon pointed at Shyntre holding Vekika.

*Daughter?*

Rohenvi didn't look around but kept her eyes on what was in front of her. "Yes, her, too. She's a baby."

*Time?*

Shyntre thought Sirana's Mother was doing well interpreting—but then, she had been interpreting simpler, child-like concepts regularly. The Matron subtly dried her palms on her skirt.

"My Daughters are a century apart. The small one is only a year old. You understand? A year?"

The war creature nodded. *Year made...and feed both.*

Here there might have been some misunderstanding.

"Ah...? We feed Sirana so her body doesn't starve and expel him."

Xalli'hoon drew back a little more, seeming confused. *Her? Him?*

"Yes, her or him. It's one or the other," the Matron explained, her nerves coming across as exasperation.

"Most of the time," Gaelan added with an oddly warm smile, and Shyntre wondered what she meant by that.

"Okay, wait, let's start over," Matron Aurenthin suggested, again turning down the blanket to expose Sirana's stomach, drawing Xalli'hoon's attention. Kennitha patted her hand on the round belly. "See this? This is what she means, how we grow more Drow. I don't know how your 'Elder Mind' does it, but Sirana is making another Drow right now."

"Another individual," Shyntre added, letting Vekika grab hold of his pinky and tug.

"Yeah, and this one will be male, so Rohenvi tells me." Matron Aurenthin jerked her chin toward Shyntre and Vekika. "See the other tiny Drow on his lap? A female, and Rohenvi grew her, just as she grew Sirana a century ago. Same round bellies. It's how it is. Mother and Daughter, Mother and Son."

Jael's Mother covered Sirana and stood up very straight, seeming taller than she was as she looked down at the stranger among them, but she pantomimed a round belly on herself next. "I have grown six just by myself, and some of them have grown another one or two each. You see?"

*Fast,* Xalli'hoon commented.

Maybe she was even doing the math, Shyntre thought, and Kennitha shrugged. "We have to make sure there are enough of us when we all make our own stupid choices."

"I doubt she can hear sarcasm, Mother," Jael interjected.

"Who's being sarcastic?" Matron Aurenthin glanced at her with a wink and a smirk. "She seems curious. Maybe it's to figure out new ways of killing us, but you all seem to want to negotiate with her anyway."

"We have to," her youngest Daughter replied somberly. "Or we try for another year to keep Sirana alive and fed just to get Ionne out before we let her go. Meanwhile they are helpless and could both die at any time without a lot of us working pretty fucking hard to preserve her."

"When did you get so serious, Jael?" her Mother replied. "Not that I haven't been ahead of you, helping to do that 'preserving,' I just don't understand a 'psionic' problem enough to know what to expect."

"Neither do we, Matron," Gaelan said quietly.

Shyntre watched as Xalli'hoon silently slipped back from the talking females, closer to Lethrix. With Morix and Ruk out of the way, the hybrid had gotten her fill looking at a pregnant Elf and an infant one, and she seemed just a little more anxious than before for having done it.

Shyntre didn't understand how to solve the problem, and by the looks of it, neither did Xalli'hoon. The mage wasn't sure how much talking with her would change anything, but he couldn't suggest anything else than what Morix and the rest were doing: nudging and pushing a Drow-Illithid hybrid farther out of her shell.

A very literal tactic, at least to start.

*********

~So what do you think?~ Lethrix asked her.

~I understand thralls breeding, that was too basic.~

~Do not take insult, Xalli. They are interacting, they are showing you how they communicate with a child who cannot or will not speak. This is good. This is teaching.~

~No need! I only could not follow her Thought.~

~And she could not follow yours.~

~Inefficient.~

~But private, and intricate. For individuals, this matters. It takes more work but the rewards are greater and bonds more resilient.~

~You speak of greater rewards but all I see is the solitude, the barriers, the silence of those individuals... of myself.~

~It will change. You will grow, you'll learn a different Sound. Every word choice, every name and inflection shows you something of who that individual is, and at the same time, how they perceive you. The more you watch, the more you understand their subtlety as your Elder Mind never will.~

~Pfeh!~

~Careful, Xalli, there is only one emotion which builds more barriers than contempt, and that is the elemental one: Fear. Look at the image in my mind. I would show you a painting in colors, such as you now contain, hanging on the wall in the Baenar City. You see the magical light? You see how it is made?~

~....yes.~

~Slowly. A thread of color at a time. Imagine your new mind as that artist slowly filling in the fine detail of the picture, and each Baenar is doing the same throughout their life once separate from their Mother. You could throw a whole cup of color onto the canvas, blanket it all in red and cover it quite 'efficiently,' but there would be no image for you to understand. Only blood. If your mind's picture ever looks like this, or...here, let's cover that in black instead, paint it no color at all....like this?~

~You speak as if I were an artist to fill the canvas of myself, but I am not the artist, that is the Great Work. I do not control this design nor the brush... all I see is nothing.~

~Yes. You have stopped watching, and you have cut yourself off from this Understanding as well as the other. No Master has forced you out, however, you have done it yourself. I suppose you are ready to die at this point.~

~No! I am not ready!~

~Then continue choosing your words, child, while these Baenar would trade them with you. Consider your good fortune. It is your only option to add color until it all goes black eventually.~

~What does my choice matter if this is my only option, to 'color' while we stave off death? It would color on its own as the world exists.~

~True, but not every living creature colors at the same rate. You have stumbled upon the universal mystery already, I'm proud! Quite the motivator, that one, for an individual to find an answer to suit their own, true mind.~

~So... there is more intricacy to this matter than you say. Why do you make it so simple now to lead me down a path of your desire? I am such a child to you?~

~You are, yes. But you are a unique child and beautiful in your potential. In all willful babies, Xalli, the very first path taken can be very short indeed without the guidance of a parent. Your choices do matter, not the least of which is if you choose to listen to me. My desire for you is the same as Rohenvi for Sirana, or Ruk for Vekika, even Sirana for her unborn son. We will each work to give a child the chance to explore the longer path.~

*********

"Can you spare the mage, Red Sisters?" Rohenvi asked Jael and Gaelan after Kennitha had excused herself and the Matron reclaimed her infant Daughter. "I would have Shyntre help me with something in my tent."

Jael and Gaelan both blinked at her, clearly surprised that she had asked them and the Matron was curious what they would say next.

"We'll keep guarding Sirana, don't worry," Jael said.

"You should probably ask him, Matron," Gaelan added. "We don't...ah...we're not in charge of him."

Rohenvi glanced at Shyntre, who was keeping a careful, wary expression she had seen on many males in the past. "Oh? Who is? Elder D'Shea, certainly, or maybe the Headmaster?"

They both grimaced as if she'd said something foolish but Gaelan explained.

"Maybe both Elders D'Shea and Rausery. He has their protection while in the City, Matron, but otherwise no one claims him since the Valsharess died."

"Except maybe Ausl—oof!" Jael began, cut off by an elbow in her ribs.

Rohenvi noticed that, of course, but decided to wait for that answer. It was easy for her because this brought a parallel to Ruk in her mind. She only recently learned he belonged to Elder Rausery with her protection, too, but otherwise he was largely independent in his daily decisions, and that same independence in being able and confident to speak for himself was what had drawn her to make that very first deal with him, centuries ago. The one which had resulted in Treyl's birth.

Rohenvi found she could nod easily enough. She turned to the former Royal Consort. "In that case, my apologies, Shyntre. May I ask you to come with me to my tent? I could use your help."