At four forty-five, Annani could wait no longer. She scrolled to Kalugal's number. Perhaps Areana had called him first this week. She usually called Annani first and then Kalugal, but with Lokan in the village, perhaps she was eager to talk to her two sons first.
The phone rang twice before Kalugal answered. "Aunt Annani." His voice carried its usual respect tinged with warmth. "How was your call with my mother this afternoon?"
"There was no call." She kept her voice steady, though her fingers tightened on the phone. "Has she called you perhaps?"
A pause. She could practically hear his frown through the connection. "She did not. We agreed the last time we spoke that she was going to call you this week. In fact, I scheduled a meeting with Kian knowing that I wasn't going to miss her call."
"I am worried," Annani admitted. "I hope she is okay and that she was just otherwise occupied and could not make the call."
"I'm sure there's an explanation," Kalugal said, but she heard the tension creeping into his voice. "Maybe my father changed his schedule, and she couldn't get to the cliff. He can be unpredictable sometimes."
"Perhaps." Annani walked over to the window, gazing out at the peaceful village scene without really seeing it. "She missed a call once before when he surprised her with an unexpected visit."
"Exactly. That's probably what happened." Kalugal was trying to reassure her, but she heard his own worry beneath the words. "She'll call you tomorrow when she gets a chance."
"Would you let me know immediately if you hear from her?"
"Of course. Try not to worry too much. My mother knows how to handle my father."
After they ended the call, Annani stood at the window, her reflection superimposed over the village beyond. In the glass she looked small, delicate, but inside, her power churned with the need to act, to do something more than just wait and worry.
She called William next. As the one who facilitated the connection, perhaps he was aware of some communication disturbance. Maybe it was a technical issue or a weather problem. A storm might interfere with the signal.
"Clan Mother," William answered on the first ring. "I was about to call you. Lady Areana has not called today."
"Have there been any storms in the area of the island? Something that could interfere with the signal?"
"There was a tropical storm a few days ago, and since it's the monsoon season, it's probably raining over there right now, but that shouldn't have created a problem with the communicator. Areana most likely just didn't want to go outside in the rain. It would have looked suspicious if she insisted on her daily stroll while it was pouring outside."
"That could be," Annani conceded, the tight knot in her chest easing. "Thank you for suggesting that explanation, William. I was concerned."
"Try not to worry, Clan Mother. There are many possible innocent explanations. I'll keep monitoring the channel."
"Please do, and let me know the moment you learn anything." She ended the call and returned her phone to her pocket.
Everyone kept telling her not to worry, as if worry was a choice rather than a natural response to uncertainty about a loved one's safety. After five thousand years of separation from Areana, these weekly calls had become precious beyond measure. Each one was proof that her sister had survived another week in Navuh's clutches.
Filled with restless energy, Annani needed to do something to channel this anxiety into action. But what could she do? Storm Navuh's island and demand proof of her sister's well-being?
It was fine as a fantasy, but impossible in reality.
Perhaps she could talk to Kian. There was nothing he could do to help her, but it would ease her anxiety just to share her worry with him. Besides, she'd been meaning to visit Tim in the clinic, which was right next door to the office building.
The poor man had been unconscious for over a week now, his body undergoing the dramatic transformation from human to immortal.
She entered the kitchen where Oridu was working on a new batch of cookies.
"I wish to go to the village square," she told him. "Can you please ask Ogidu to bring the cart?"
"At once, Clan Mother." He bowed and retreated to carry out her wishes.
While she waited, Annani walked over to her bedroom where the portrait of Areana hung on one wall and the two portraits of Khiann hung above the mantel, across the room. Tim had captured her sister's ethereal beauty with stunning accuracy. Those gentle blue eyes seemed to look back at her with warmth and understanding, as if Areana knew of her worry and sought to soothe it even through the artistic rendering.
Khiann's recent portrait, the version Tim had drawn from Esag's memories, showed her beloved as his friends had seen him—less formal and more playful than he had been around the palace. Young and vibrant, mischief dancing in his eyes.
Tim's gift had given her these treasures, these faces she had feared she might never get to see again.
"Your cart is ready, Clan Mother," Ogidu announced from the doorway.