Now he had almost total free will, but his mental patterns were long established. He would use his new powers as he had been intended to.
Chapter X
Hovan didn't feel much except fatigue and hunger as the time for Steve's Transformation neared. He'd held vigil for the full day, without sleep or food, and he felt the effects.
It would be over soon, he thought tiredly. The Lords had promised an honorable peace, so he believed it would come about, though he couldn't imagine how. But it still didn't seem right that Steve had succeeded so well in the Ordeal only to be denied knowing the peace he'd endured it to bring about.
He saw a preliminary flicker of blue and closed his eyes against the expected glare. When seconds passed without it he opened them again, and saw instead gentle blue radiance pulsing from Steve's body.
For a moment he was stunned, unable to believe what it meant. Such things belonged in Speakers' histories, not in life!
Then, slowly, he smiled and nodded to himself. Steve, the human Ranger who had become a Cor'naya in hopes of helping both races, fearing but accepting death for that goal—yes, Steve deserved to complete the Circle of Lords if anyone did.
Yarra and Daria had returned for the Transformation. Hovan exchanged glances with his Ka'ruchaya, but the Speaker stood motionless, her expression one of exaltation—until the radiance vanished and Steve sat up, his wounds healed, swinging his legs over the altar's edge and standing up. Then Daria bowed, hands formally crossed over her chest, and Hovan and the rest of the clan followed suit.
Tarlac watched, without pleasure, his n'ruhar's display of awed reverence—no, outright worship. It was the Traiti way, and necessary to them; his personal dislike of it was irrelevant. To the clan that had adopted him, the people he cherished, he was a god, one of the Circle of Lords—as the new, twelfth statuette which had materialized on every altar showed. He could only accept the homage.