Carpathian 05 - Dark Challenge

not think so, Syndil.
    You have not scanned or you would feel the dark empty spaces that can only mean one thing. There is danger very close to us."
    A small sound escaped Syndil's throat as she reappeared in her solid form. "Do you not hear the cry of the earth to me? I can do no other than answer," she replied softly. "Dark spaces mean nothing to me.
    Danger means nothing when the earth calls to me. Those things are for you and the other males to attend to."
    Barack looped a fistful of her silky hair around his wrist. "I know only that you are placing yourself at risk, and I am uncertain whether my heart can stand such a thing twice in two risings."
    "In my head I hear the cries of the wounded land, the burned trees. I cannot continue without aiding that which is dying. I must go," Syndil said. "It is who I am, Barack." It mattered little to her what the others said at these times. She could do no other than heal the earth when it was crying out in pain to her.
    Dayan sighed softly, a little helplessly, and, with obvious reluctance, complied with her demand, slowly turning onto the dusty road leading into the mountains. It appeared to be an old logging road. Barack sat quietly, no longer protesting, but he didn't let loose Syndil's flowing hair, ensuring that she did not run straight into trouble. The bus rounded a curve, and Desari stared in horror at the sight.
    The entire west side of the mountain was a blackened ruin. Dayan slowly eased the bus to the side of the road and came to a complete stop. He had no choice in the matter. Syndil had risen, ignoring Barack's restraining hand. The male Carpathian sighed and rose with her, reluctantly allowing her hair to slide from around his wrist. Desari watched as Syndil pushed open the door to the bus. Her face reflected the same deep grief Desari had witnessed each time Syndil found the earth damaged in some way.
    Julian stood, a frown on his face. He didn't like the blank spaces in the area around them. He glanced from male to male, outraged that they would chance one of their precious women out in the open when she was so clearly threatened. Desari touched him lightly, a warning to be still. He glanced from her small restraining hand on his arm toward Darius. As always, the man's expression was impossible to read.
    Darius was seeking outside of himself, obviously searching for anything that might threaten his family. It was out there. He felt it. All the males felt it, yet none of them seemed to want to stop Syndil.
    Barack took the initiative, as he always did lately when anything involved Syndil. He shrugged his shoulders with his easy, fluid grace and sauntered with seeming carelessness after her. She was already moving through the twisted, charred acreage, her hands weaving a strange but fascinating pattern in the stillness of the air. She glanced over her shoulder at Barack, a slight frown on her face.
    "Do you hear it, Barack? The ground is screaming in pain. This fire was set deliberately by something evil." Syndil's voice was soft and gentle, a mere whisper, yet all of them, with their acute hearing, could clearly understand her.
    "Evil as in…" Barack prompted her.

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    "Not a fire-lover. Neither is it a human." She had already turned her attention back to the blackened trees and soil, dismissing the source as unimportant to her. If the men wanted to deal with such a terrible being, that was their right and privilege. She was of the earth, was part of it, as surely as it was a part of her. She loved the soil, the trees and mountains. All of nature sang to her, wrapped her in loving arms. It was as necessary to her as breathing. Nothing could have stopped her from going forward to help her beloved earth.
    Julian watched as she bent down and touched the charred soil with caressing fingers. He swore the dirt moved around and over her hand, wanting the contact with her. He found himself holding his breath, shocked at what he was witnessing. Where Desari's gift was her voice, Syndil's was evidently much different. She held a deep affinity to the earth itself, could cure what was diseased or damaged. He moved to the door of the bus and watched in awe as her hands buried themselves deep in the blackened soil, weaving the same beautiful and intricate pattern beneath the dirt so that above ground ripples began to shape themselves in an ever-widening spiral.
    Julian stepped from the bus and