Channel's Destiny

Jord said, ,"Yes, you are better, Zeth. Another dose of fosebine should stave off that headache." As soon as the soothing effects of the medicine were flowing through Zeth's system he asked, "Do you want to talk, Zeth? Should I get Owen?"

"It doesn't matter," Zeth said flatly, and Jord frowned.

"Zeth . . . you do remember what happened?"

"Dad killed Del. There's no such thing as a Sime who won't kill, given enough provocation. Dad was never any different from you, Jord—Mama kept him from killing."

Sessly said, "That's no reason to despair, Zeth. God has

showed us the way. No one will be allowed to kill anymore. With Owen's help, you'll use your blessed gift of healing."

"I can't!" he protested.

"Zeth," Jord said firmly, "you could not have saved your father's life. You risked your own, trying, but that injury was fatal. Grieve, Zeth—but don't blame yourself."

lord understands, Zeth realized. Simes can't be blamed for being Sime. Tears of weakness slid down his face.

Uel arrived a while later, to spell Jord—or rather to rest there while Jord went back to work. The pattern formed quickly—Zeth really required only fosebine and sleep, but just in case, one of the cha

Until Owen came. Then they were left alone. It was after midnight, and Owen was groggy, his eyes red with weeping, his field hollow with emotional exhaustion. He sat on the edge of Zeth's bed, saying, "I should have been here earlier, but I couldn't leave Jana to make all the arrangements . . . and I had to pray—"

"Owen, I'm so sorry!" Zeth blurted "It's my fault everyone was in the chapel that way, and—"

"And it's my fault you almost died!" Owen said bitterly. "When I saw Pa lying there, and you trying to revive Rimon– Oh, God, Zeth, I had to try to help Pa, though I knew he was dead. Uel dragged me away—I would have let you die, Zeth!"

"If you had, it wouldn't matter much."

"Zeth!"

"Maddok Bron is right. Simes must be protected. Not from demons—just from the fact of being Sime. It's up to you, Owen. If my father could kill, I can—unless you stop me."

"No! Zeth, I've never tried to control you, and I'm not going to start now. Your father was right. I'm not fit to be a Companion. Even if I'd had my wits together, I couldn't have helped you. With only one arm, I couldn't force your laterals to extend. I couldn't lift your arms into position—Uel had to do it. If we'd been alone, Zeth, you'd have died."

Zeth sighed. "That won't happen again. You can handle anything I'll ever need, Owen."

Margid brought soup for Zeth and a full meal for Owen. "Eat, and then I want you both asleep," she told them firmly. "There'll be plenty of time to talk in the morning." And because it was too painful for either of them to continue, they obeyed her.

The next day Zeth progressed on shaky legs as far as the main room. A stream of visitors began with Dan Whelan, who tried delicately to find out if Zeth had any special wishes for the memorial service for his father. Zeth didn't want to think about how Rimon had died—so he just said dully, "Whatever you think is appropriate."

Maddok Bron came—and the sincere sympathy in the man's field was almost more than Zeth could bear. Bron said gently, "Your father was not responsible for his last act, Zeth. For all the good he did over many years, he is certainly now reunited with your mother in heaven. I'll pray for his soul, and for that of Del Erick. They were good men."

But despite his cautious words to Zeth, Bron apparently used Rimon's death as proof of, his demon theory, for Dan returned later that day to reassure Zeth that Bron would not conduct the service. Zeth nodded, not really caring—what if a Sime's instincts were personified as demons? They were just as deadly either way.

A while later, Owen came in with his sister. Owen seemed angry, and Jana was trying to calm him down. "Go splash cold water on your face," she told him, "and then come back. You can't help Zeth if you're all upset."

Zeth didn't ask, but Jana pulled up a chair and started in just as if he had, "It's that Sue Norton. I knew no good would come of Owen getting involved with an out-Territory girl! If there's anything Owen shouldn't have to worry about, it's that woman trying to take him away from you!"

That pulled Zeth out of his lethargy. "What happened?" he asked, thinking, There's no other Gen who can handle my need–without Owen I'd kill someone!

Owen came back in, answering his question. "It's over between us, that's all," he said. "Sue's never understood what it means to be a Companion. She thinks it's some sort of obligation—she had the nerve to tell me I was being disrespectful to the m-memory of my father''—he paused to brush angry tears away—"if I k-kept on as your Companion, Zeth." Tears coursed down his cheeks.

Jana took her brother's hand, wrapping handling tentacles about it, her own tears flowing. The two, Zeth's best friends ever since he could remember, were cut off from him by one fact. My father killed their father. Neither of them made the accusation, but it hung in the air until Zeth felt compelled to

say it aloud. "My father killed your father. I'd give my life to change that—but I don't know how."

Startled, they both looked up at him. He felt the tensions release in them—and then Jana reached for his hand. "Oh, God, Zeth—it's as awful for you to live with as it is for us! They were both like fathers to all of us. Maybe if we can think, they came here together . . . and they died together—"

Jana's words were echoed by Dan Whelan two days later, at the service for Rimon Farris and Del Erick. He spoke of the loss not only of the first cha

As the choir began to sing, Dan lit the lamps surrounding the monument to the martyrs. Zeth hadn't realized lord had found time to carve a new name. There had been space for only one more. Del's would be the last name on the original monument.

And then Zeth saw what lord had put on that last line. There were two names, side by side:

DEL ERICK—RIMON FARRIS

Suddenly grief poured through Zeth. His loss was real. Rimon was no longer wasting 'away in the back room of the chapel. He was dead, and with him the hopes of the community to which he had brought such change. If only I'd mastered junct transfer sooner . . . ! Zeth sobbed. He was not alone. Owen and Jana put their arms around him, and the choir struggled through their hymn with choking voices.

When the emotion began to wane, Dan Whelan stepped back to the podium. "All who founded our new way of life are gone now: Kadi Farris, Abel Veritt, and now Rimon Farris and Del Erick. But Fort Freedom continues. They left us a legacy—their beliefs, their teachings, their practices. Even more, they left us their children. Abel's son Jord, his granddaughter Marji—both cha

"But more than any of the others, the fate of our commu-

nity depends on one young cha

Zeth listened with growing horror. But I have failed. He waited for the rejection of the congregation. Surely they could see he was the most dangerous ~of all the cha