Yaaf
Sullha crouched beside her mother, told her that she was about to hug her and, without waiting for a response, did exactly that.
She wrapped her arms around Leehy, and after a moment, the mother's arms wrapped back around her daughter, and the two of them held each other under the darkening sky and the mango trees while the other women witnessed the display with smiling faces and moist eyes.
His own mother was dead. Learning about it from Sullha not too long ago had been a more potent blow than it should have been given his history with his mother. The collective had helped him through the pain, but the bulk of it still sat in his stomach like a bad meal.
It wasn't the best analogy, the collective pointed out, but the unease was difficult for him to analyze, even with the others' help. It was a sense of helplessness that the Eight had forgotten they'd ever felt and did not know what to do with.
They had become invincible, or close to it, and yet, they couldn't bring back the dead from beyond the veil or turn back time so Yaaf could have a moment like this with his mother.
The finality of her death had never felt as acute as it did now, while watching Sullha and her mother embrace like they probably had never embraced before.
Sullha had said that her mother could heal, that they could heal together, and Yaaf had no doubt that they would. Sullha was a powerhouse, she'd always been one, and he wondered how she could summon so much inner strength given how little she'd been given.
He let out a breath.
If only that strength could extend to him and the way she felt about him. If only she could be strong enough to accept what he had become.
When he and Sullha had been kids, they used to joke that they were like orphans because their mothers were the walking dead. They had formed an honorary orphans' club and had laughed about it because the alternative was letting the helplessness of the situation consume them.
Leehy had a long way to come back from the abyss she'd sunk into decades ago, but Sullha was reaching out, and her mother was responding, and soon the orphans' club was going to have only one surviving member.
Yaaf was glad for Sullha. He knew how much Leehy's indifference had pained her, despite all the jokes.
He wanted her to have the mother she'd always wanted, even if she was imperfect and had been mostly absent and would have to learn how to be present with her daughter in a way she hadn't been before.
He just wished he could have the same.
After a few silent tears had been shed, Sullha let go of Leehy, stood up, and returned to her own mat.
It took her a moment to gather her composure and return to being the woman who was leading the others to freedom.
"We will meet again," Sullha said. "Tomorrow. Same time, same place. There are practical details that need to be discussed, like what you can bring with you and what needs to be left behind, and what to do once it's time to walk out of these gates."
"Is it safe to meet again?" Gindah asked. "Won't that attract attention?"
"The cover of the teaching positions still holds. If anyone asks, Saphira still has a lot of things to talk to you about. We can continue having meetings up to our escape day if we need to."
"It's a good cover," Saphira agreed. "If it were true, I could talk for days and still not get everything covered."
Sullha smiled at her. "Trust me, she could." She turned back to the women. "Tomorrow at six."
The women began to rise, and as Yaaf scanned their thoughts, he was flooded with their emotions.
Hope was the dominant one, something none of them had thought they would ever feel, and some of it was gratitude to the sons who hadn't forgotten them.
The same sons they hadn't shown love to because they couldn't, because feeling anything would have opened the floodgates of pain and despair.
Numbness had made life in the enclosure bearable.
Mirumah stopped next to Sullha and pulled her into a brief, tight hug. When she released her, Mirumah's eyes were wet. She nodded once and walked away.
Then Zohara did it, followed by Gindah. Karina did a quick one-armed hug that was an effort for her, and reading her thoughts, the collective knew that it was because she hadn't hugged anyone in so long that she didn't remember how it worked.
Baruha and Asira embraced Sullha together, sandwiching her between them.
Rohilah only patted Sullha's back, probably because it was all she could manage with Bianca asleep on her shoulder.
Leehy stopped to whisper something in Sullha's ear that Yaaf could have easily eavesdropped on but chose not to.
Sullha had managed all those displays of gratitude and affection with her usual grace, but at some point she'd started to look haunted. The emotional burden must have exceeded her capacity to handle it.
She raised her hands. "Please, you have to stop with all this hugging or people might start to wonder."
The women paused and looked around, searching for the people Sullha was referring to. Other than a few older kids that were still huddled on the other side of the yard, and Tomek who was building castles in the sandbox by himself, there was no one there to watch the emotional display.
"It is just teaching positions," Sullha said. "They are not that exciting."
Gindah chuckled. "They'll think we are forming a Sacred Mothers circle."
It was actually not a bad idea to let people think that, but since the educational spin had already been used, they should stick to it.
"Anything but that," Asira said. "I'm just excited about teaching art." She winked at Sullha.
"Art is exciting," Sullha agreed with a smile. "Tomorrow at six, ladies."
It was time to ensure that none of the women discussed what they had learned with anyone outside the group, and the collective turned its attention to the task.
The thrall the Eight had been maintaining so far was keeping Yaaf invisible, the meeting obscured, and the conversation inaudible to anyone outside the gathering.
The compulsion part that they were about to layer on top of the thrall was the mental rule that would prevent them from speaking about today's meeting to anyone outside the group.
It was one of the things the collective could do that even Lord Navuh hadn't been able to.
The lord had to be heard for his compulsion to take effect.
The Eight could do the same with a mental suggestion, which was a much cleaner and more effective method.
The women wouldn't even be aware of it. They would simply not want to talk about today.
The thought of mentioning it to anyone outside the circle would feel wrong.
They would feel as if they were keeping the secret at their own discretion.
Number One reinforced the layer one more time, drawing an additional pulse of energy from each of the other seven and weaving it into the suggestion in each woman's mind.
After everyone except Burda and Saphira had left, the collective let out a mental sigh of relief.
The vetting process and the pressure were over, and it was a huge relief to find that none of the women were Brotherhood loyalists, religious fanatics, or opportunists willing to betray the others for a prize.
Even Karina, who they had been the most worried about, was revealed to be clean. She was just a recluse who preferred her own company.
As Burda, Saphira, and Sullha began folding the mats, Number One wondered how he would get Sullha away from them so he could tell her his plan to leave a communication device with Burda.
She looked more tired and depleted than after a full day of working in the vegetable garden. This hadn't been easy for her.
He waited for the right moment when she said, "I need to go to the bathroom. Are you okay to finish with the mats without me and keep an eye on Tomek?"
"Of course," Burda said. "You look like you need a nap."
"I do." Sullha sighed. "I'm exhausted. I had no idea that plotting can be so tiring."
Saphira chuckled. "You'll get used to it. Everything that's new is difficult. Everything that's routine becomes easy."
Sullha nodded and started toward the bathrooms.
Yaaf detached from the wall he'd been leaning against, but then he decided against talking to her before she did her business inside. Perhaps she really needed to go, and it hadn't been just an excuse to talk to him.
He waited outside the door, and when she came out, he released her from the thrall.
"I am here," he said quietly.
She turned toward him but kept looking ahead as if he wasn't there. "Have you vetted all of them?"
"We did. They are all clean."
She nodded. "That's what I thought, but it's good to hear you confirm it."
She sounded so tired, and he wanted to wrap his arm around her so she could rest her head on his arm, but he resisted the impulse.
"I have an idea, and it has to do with Burda," he said.
"What is it?"
"Since she's staying, we can use her to organize future operations, but to do that, she will need a communication device we can reach her on.
We can give her the one we have when we leave, and then ask the clan to deliver a new one for us.
Ours is paired with a transmitter that is located on the water tower behind the resort.
It's too far from here to work effectively, but we can move it closer. "
"It's dangerous for her to have something like that," Sullha said.
"It's very small. She could hide it easily. Burda would be our eyes and ears inside the enclosure, and if we mount another rescue, she can organize the women."
Sullha let out a breath. "Do you really think there will be another rescue?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "But if we can arrange for means to organize one, we should."
"Even if it's risky?"
"We can leave it up to Burda to decide."
Sullha nodded. "She'll want it."
He thought so as well. The woman could be the lifeline that connected the enclosure to the outside world, and her decision to stay behind could become an act of long-term resistance rather than surrender.
"She is staying behind because she wants to be useful," Sullha said. "You are offering her a way to be helpful that's beyond anything she could have dreamt of."
"You will need to be the one to ask her, and I need the answer before I leave. We need to know whether to ask the clan to deliver another device."
Sullha nodded. "I will ask her right now."
"Thank you."
"I'm the one who should be thanking you, and by that I mean all eight of you. You are doing a good thing."
Yaaf swallowed. "We hope so."
She cast him a smile before heading back to where Saphira and Burda were tying up the bundle of mats.
"I have an idea," she said to Burda.
It was his idea, but she was right to present it as her own to hide the fact that he'd been present throughout the meeting.
Saphira was going to hear it as well, but that was okay. She was a co-conspirator now.
Burda narrowed her eyes at Sullha. "What's your idea?"
"Since you've decided to stay behind, you could become even more useful to the women and children of the enclosure.
The soldiers can give you the communication device that they use to talk to those who will help us once we are out of here.
You can be our point of contact in the enclosure and help organize future rescues.
The device is very small, so it's not going to be hard to hide. "
Burda stilled, then she sat down on the stack of mats as if the suggestion was too big of a shock for her to remain standing. She looked at Sullha with an expression Yaaf hadn't seen on her face before. It wasn't just hope, it was purpose, a call to arms.
"Is that how you have been communicating with the outside?" Burda asked. "You have such a device?"
"No. I have a different method. Why?"
"I just wanted to see that communicator. But it doesn't matter. I will do it."
"It's dangerous." Sullha felt like she needed to say that. "If you are discovered…"
There was no need to finish that sentence.
Burda offered her a weak smile. "I have lived in this place for sixty-three years, Sullha, and I've been carrying plenty of dangerous things in my head and in my hands during those years. A communication device is just one more thing to hide. I've hidden worse."
"Worse?"
"Stories. Knowledge. Memory. The accumulated record of what this place has done to all of us. I have been keeping that record in my head, and now I would have a way to preserve it somewhere that isn't going to die with me."
"I am glad you are staying, then," Sullha said. "I felt guilty about leaving you behind, and now I don't because you'll be performing a crucial task that can save many lives." Sullha sat down on the stack of mats beside Burda and took the old woman's hand. "But I am still going to miss you."
"I'll miss you too, girl."