Introduction

 

We must be thankful for all lessons that life bestows upon us. In grief and hardship, in pain and conflict, lies education of the highest order. When we can rise above ourselves and affirm our tragedies, so we grow more into our potential. Weep not in the moment, but face towards the future, when you can look back and see the lesson for what it was.

Aghama gives to us that which we need; everything we experience is for our highest good, even if it does not seem so at the time of tears. We simply have to be wise enough to realise the truth of it.

Velisarius har Kakkahaar, from ‘We Who Are Stars’ ai-cara 120

 

I began this account a long time ago, and reached a point with it when I could no longer continue. It was simply too painful. The quote above is set there for a reason. It was only later, after I had moved to Immanion and worked there for some time, that I found the heart to finish it. And the Tigron Pellaz himself is partly responsible for that.

There is great store set upon the fact that Wraeththu are superior to humankind, but the truth of it is that we have the potential to be greater. We derive from humanity, and even those of us who proudly call ourselves ‘pure born’ or ‘second generation’ still carry within us the material of our forebears. There have been great conflicts in our short history, many dramas enacted upon the stage of the world, and it is these that scholars use as illustrations in their discourses on how we can progress as a species. But to me, the smaller conflicts are just as important. While tribes might clash, and the lessons learned from these wars be world-changing, our personal battles are of equal value. These are the dramas we encounter in everyday life, in our small corners of the world; in work, in play, in love.

After a silence of years concerning these very intimate matters, I spoke with Pellaz har Aralis, simply because I knew he had firsthand experiences of the destructiveness of love. In the summer, I had been lucky enough to attend a gathering at the palace Phaonica with my employers, and near the end of the evening found myself in a group with the Tigron himself. We were sitting on a wide balcony overlooking the city. I remember the smell of the night, the heady perfume of night blooming jasmine, and for some reason it took me back a few years. In my head and my heart, I was in Alba Sulh again, smelling flowers that had died long since. Thoughts weighed heavily upon my mind, and I found myself wondering whether it is possible ever to forget.

Gradually, for one reason or another, the company drifted away, until it was just Pellaz and I sitting there. I did not feel uncomfortable; he has a way to put you at ease.

‘What’s on your mind?’ he asked me.

‘Oh, nothing important,’ I replied, embarrassed my wistfulness had been so obvious.

He laughed softly. ‘Why not tell me the truth?’

I realised then he was probably the best har to speak to about it. His history was common knowledge, because he was one of the most famous hara in the world. Therefore, he was allowed few secrets.

‘I was just thinking back,’ I said. ‘I was thinking… I was thinking of a lost love.’ I shook my head. ‘Why do I still dwell on it? It is a long time finished. I’ve worked very hard to rise above it all, create my life as I want it to be, yet still the memory steals upon me sometimes.’ I grimaced. ‘It still feels like a battle I did not win.’

Again, Pellaz laughed, louder this time. He said to me, ‘Never doubt it is a war, but perhaps the trick is to discern who the combatants really are. Is it you and another, or is it simply parts of yourself: one the wiser self, the other a mean little sneak sabotaging all its better’s plans and intentions? Our goal in life is to understand ourselves, nothing more, nothing less, because all other work and progress springs from that endeavour.’ Then he smiled at me. ‘Just write it down,’ he said. ‘It’s what I did. You’ll find it helps.’

Pellaz wasn’t the first to give me that advice, but he was the har who gave me the courage to complete the work. The account that follows was begun at the start of my time in Kyme. I finished it last night.

Gesaril Har Sulh

 

Lunilsday, Flowermoon 7

 

Kyme is a town that has never been young. Even when humans lived in it, I know that the dust of antiquity swallowed their dreams and muffled up their memories. It’s not that I don’t like it here, I do, but it’s a strange, heavy place. I’ve been here four days and it feels like being in prison, even though I can go out if I want to. Codexia Huriel has given me a room in his house, and it’s very dark and creepy. The furniture is old, the floorboards slope, and there are noises in the walls after dark. Every time I get into the bed it makes a single long groan, then never speaks again all night.

Huriel has told me I must write about my experiences, and that this is part of the healing process, but I can’t think of anything to say about it all just now. I don’t even want to think about it, but no matter how much I say that to myself, it consumes my every waking moment. I am haunted, and maybe I’ll always be haunted. Nohar else can see the ghost, and it doesn’t stand at my shoulder; it’s some distance away, but always at the edge of my vision. I know: I sound insane. So perhaps writing about it will be an exorcism. I’ll start my story, if story it is, just before the journey here.

Huriel interviewed me in Jesith, in the phylarch Sinnar’s office, although Sinnar wasn’t there. I didn’t know what to expect from the Kymian, and I know I was pretty defensive. I could tell he thought I was a brat. Sometimes, these words just come out of my mouth, and there’s a voice in my head yelling at me to stop, but it does no good. So I bratted the poor har for over an hour, and we didn’t get anywhere. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me, whether I’d be punished or seen as mad, whether I’d be sent home or on to another teacher. My time in Jesith was over, I knew that. Hara believed I’d fouled everything. Really quite disgusting. My parents had sent me there to get an education, but I’d simply gone faintly insane and acquired a bad reputation instead. Part of me hated myself, another part felt indignant, because it really wasn’t all my fault. But nohar would believe me. It was my word against that of a har who was greatly respected around these parts. I was in so much pain, I couldn’t even feel it any more. All I could do was scratch and spit; it was my shout against the injustice I felt.

‘Your future is really up to you,’ Huriel said to me patiently.

His patience especially infuriated me. ‘What do you mean?’ I snapped.

He placed his hands on his crossed knees. ‘Well, you can go home if you wish, or continue your education.’

I laughed. ‘Or you could lock me up.’

‘What is your choice?’ Huriel enquired. I noticed with gratification that his teeth were gritted.

I shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

Huriel breathed out through his nose. He wanted to be any place but in that room with me. ‘We know about your problems,’ he said, ‘and, to be frank, in your position I would want to address them and move on. It’s clear you need supervision, and I suggest you come back with me to Kyme.’

Again, I laughed. ‘What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know what I’m capable of?’

He fixed me with a look that said so much. I lost about half of my swagger in an instant. ‘You will be quite… safe with me.’

‘You don’t want to do this, so why bother?’ I said. ‘Will your charity make you feel good?’

‘I hope so,’ Huriel replied dryly, again saying so much more than the simple words implied. He got to his feet. ‘Well?’

I thought for a moment about going home to the Shadowvales, and my willowy father drooping all over me, asking why I’d come back. I thought of my hostling, who is so far away with the fairies, I swear the concept of reality is less real to him than dreams. Whatever might happen in Kyme, it had to be more tolerable than that. My skin itched all over. I felt fierce and restless. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘But I’ve addressed my problems, as you put it. What can I do in Kyme?’

‘Continue your training, but in a more academic manner,’ Huriel said, gathering up his notes. ‘I have a lot of old texts I’m working through. You could help me with that. I could do with an assistant.’

‘Will you continue with my caste ascensions?’

He nodded. ‘It’s desirable for hara of our community to advance,’ he said. ‘The library at Kyme is the biggest resource in Alba Sulh. We’re called upon by phylarchs for our knowledge and expertise. We undertake magical commissions, and offer education. Under the circumstances, your phyle will not be charged for your education.’

And that was that.

The next day, we began the long journey north. There was no har for me to say goodbye to, and we left Jesith just after dawn. All the previous night, I’d lain awake wondering whether my erstwhile teacher would come to me, at least to say farewell. (I can’t even write his name yet, not without flinching away as if from a blow.) I wondered whether I should leave a note for him; an apology or an embittered rant. I wrote so many of them in my head. There was a sick sticky lump where my heart should have been. He probably wasn’t even thinking of me. So, as my horse followed Huriel’s from the town, I didn’t look back once, didn’t think. I looked ahead.

Huriel didn’t like me, and it was impossible to use my wiles on him. He was faintly attractive to me – I liked his dark auburn hair – but I might as well have been a rat he’d picked up by the tail from a rubbish dump for all the attention he sent my way. He clearly thought his immense wisdom and experience was way beyond my ability to comprehend. He barely took care to guard his thoughts and on one occasiononce I picked up the impression he considered my head to be full of air. He just hoped I was capable of putting things in alphabetical order. Strangely, none of this offended me. I quickly realised his non-attention was actually a relief. Usually, the looks hara give me make me light up like a flaming torch, and I become this thing that sort of smoulders and claws. Sometimes, I really don’t want to do that, but I just can’t help it. My dreamy parents cursed me with beauty, but Huriel wasn’t impressed by it. I was glad for this change. It meant I could be myself – my real secret self - and be quiet. We hardly conversed at all.

The dehara who organise the weather must have looked kindly upon us, because the cold spring rain kept away. I enjoyed seeing new places. As we moved further away from Jesith, the pulsating hurt inside me would sometimes fade a little. I found balm in the raw landscape. Occasionally, moments passed when I did not see his face before my inner eyes, when the wound where my heart used to be didn’t hurt quite as much; but these were temporary respites. One time, as I watched a hawk hovering high in the cold blue sky, I realised that I had no idea how long it would take to recover from this grief I felt, or if I ever would recover. I still feel that way. Is grief to be my constant companion now? I just can’t imagine life without this hungry ghost.

Whenever Huriel and I stopped for the night in a town or village, hara would look at me with interest, but their sensual glances merely annoyed me. I was feeling very peculiar. Once, perhaps noticing this, Huriel steeled himself with obvious great effort and asked if I ‘needed anything’. I knew what he meant, but said, ‘Like what?’

‘Do you want to take aruna?’ he asked, deadpan.

I laughed. ‘With you? Do you want to with me?’ I knew the answer to that, of course, but even so I enjoyed his discomfort.

‘Gesaril, I would rather eat my own tongue, if you must know. Do you need to or not?’

‘You’re too romantic for me,’ I replied. ‘Don’t worry, I can contain myself.’

‘Is there still a problem?’ Huriel asked, a triumph for him, since the words made me go cold and awkward.

‘No,’ I answered. ‘I’m enjoying being alone for a while, that’s all. Surely even you can understand that, given my problem.’

He nodded once. ‘Good. I’ve taken on the task of being your mentor. Regardless of our opinions of each other, you must approach me if you have any needs, or want advice. I hope you feel you can speak to me.’

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘You’ve been very open and welcoming.’

He didn’t respond to that.

We came into Kyme from the west, and I loved it at once. It was so full of atmosphere, sort of brooding and mysterious, far darker than the Shadowvales, where I’d grown up. I liked that aspect. Life in the Shadowvales is often like wallowing in sweet marshmallow. I sensed a whiff of threat in Kyme, as if ancient resentful spirits lurked in the hanging eaves of the buildings.

Huriel lives in what I suppose was once a grand town house owned by rich humans. It has a courtyard in front of it, stables, and a large garden at the back. He’d told me he was part of the inner cabal of the Library Codexiae, close to Malakess, the High Codexia himself. Huriel is very smug about his good connections. Anyway, he let me wander around the house and pick a room for myself from the seven that were available. I didn’t choose the biggest or the airiest, but a middle sized room right at the top of the house, on the third storey, which has a sort of haunted feel to it. I wonder why I like that, seeing as I’ve so recently got rid of a haunting that scared the wits from me (and I’m not talking about the haunting of love). But I’ve seen no real ghosts yet, despite the scratching sounds in the walls, and the room feels like mine. I lie on the bed alone for hours, just dozing. I don’t want to think, because all the wrong thoughts pop out, but how can you stop yourself when your brain is so active? I don’t want faces in my head, but his is there before me constantly. He is so strange-looking. I really don’t know why he affected me the way he did. It’s an aura he has. It’s like a flame, and other hara lie around his feet like insects burned to crisps, drawn to the light only to perish within it. I realise now that part of me really is dead, as surely as if he’d taken a knife to it with his own hand. I am angry because he made me out to be a liar, a delusional fool and a manipulative schemer. Perhaps I am those things in some ways, but I was not alone in what happened between us. It is not fair I was made the scapegoat. Yet even knowing this, I can’t find it in my heart to hate him. If I had friends, they’d say to me that time will heal everything and I’ll get over it and forget about him. Can this be true? How can it be possible to feel this way and then for it all simply to disappear? I hope it is true. I really do.

Now, I am tired. I have exhausted myself with feeling. I kneel upon the wide windowsill, my cheek pressed against the glass. I look two minutes into the future. My hands in my lap look too thin, too vulnerable. My notebook lies open and I can see that one of my hairs has fallen down and lies curled there on the page half filled with writing. Once he put his hand upon my hair, and he said to me that he would always be there for me. Now I am alone. Two minutes into the future. I will put down my pen.

 

Aloytsday, Flowermoon, 30

 

Yesterday, I got such a horrible shock, it’s inspired me to start writing again. I haven’t done any for about three weeks, because to be honest, I haven’t felt like I’ve had anything to say. The thought of writing more about pointless longing just tires me out and I can’t be bothered.

I haven’t seen that much of Kyme yet, because I tend to stay around the house and garden. It’s such an old place, and the atmosphere comforts me. It’s like going into a ‘no place’, where nothing else exists. There’s a walled orchard I like and I go there every morning, just to sit on a mossy old stone bench and listen to the birds. In the distance, I can hear the sounds of hara going about their lives. I want to be like them, do normal things, think normal things or else not think at all.

Huriel has put me to work, and I actually quite enjoy it. Huriel changes when he’s among old books. Some of his haughtiness goes away. He’s glad I’m interested in his work. Malakess has given him the task of transcribing some very old human works on the occult and ceremonial magic. I love the old fashioned words and like to read them aloud. I think Huriel likes to hear them too. He doesn’t hate me as much now, because I’ve been behaving myself. He has a staff of two hara – Ystayne and Rayzie - who cook and clean the house. They seem all right, although they’re wary of me. I don’t know how much hara in Kyme know about me, or how I nearly ruined one of the most respected hienamas in the country. Because I think they’re thinking bad thoughts about me, I don’t want to speak to them, but I might be wrong.

I now have almost a pleasant friendship with Huriel, and we’ve got a pretty boring daily routine, but it makes me feel secure, so I’m not complaining. Life is slow and regular. We’ve agreed to leave my caste ascension work until I’ve settled in some more.

Sometimes, I can go for hours at a time and not think about my nemesis. I never thought I’d write those words and mean them. I sent a letter to my parents, again not sure how much the hara in Jesith might have told them, but explaining that my education had taken a turn for the better, and I’d been taken on by none other than a Codexia of Kyme. I talked about the books, which I know won’t interest my parents at all, and described how wonderfully dark and strange Kyme is. They won’t like that either. If something doesn’t emanate light and loveliness, my parents tend to put their hands over their ears, shut their eyes, and start humming loudly.

But, on to my shock…

High Codexia Malakess spends a lot of time in Almagabra, fraternising with the Gelaming, and making plans for the world. From what Huriel’s told me about him, I couldn’t help imagining him as looking like some kind of human wizard with a long grey beard or something. I know that’s ridiculous, but the idea of him just oozes fustiness and old age, as in pictures I’ve seen in some of Huriel’s books: serious men pointing at arcane instruments of alchemy, not looking at one another, their postures stiff and graceless. Anyway, yesterday morning at breakfast, Huriel said that Malakess was back in Kyme and coming to visit. He wanted to discuss with Huriel his recent meetings.

‘Do you want me to make myself scarce?’ I asked.

Huriel frowned. ‘No. Just don’t get in the way or be impertinent. Do you think you can manage that?’

‘I’ve been perfectly good, as you well know!’ I said.

Huriel’s frown changed to a smile. ‘I know. I have noticed. You might be bored though. Perhaps you should finally go out and about a bit. Take the day off.’

I realised, by the cold feeling that went through my stomach, that I might be developing a phobia about the outside. ‘I don’t mind working.’

‘Gesaril,’ Huriel said sternly. ‘I get the impression you really should go out.’

He could read my mind, I suppose. ‘Oh, all right, then.’

We hadn’t even finished breakfast when somehar knocked at the front door. One of Huriel’s staff went to answer it, and then conducted the visitor to the dining room. I looked up from the remains of my meal, saw him, and the cold inside me turned to ice. Ysobi har Jesith was standing at the threshold. (There: his name). It was like some hideous ghost. He was very tall, more so than hara tend to be, with the same bony-faced attenuated appearance. The impression lasted only a moment, but even so, it hit me like a punch to the stomach. Hara were talking, but I couldn’t hear anything. Eventually, the sound of my name penetrated my trance. ‘Gesaril… Gesaril!’ It was Huriel. ‘This is High Codexia Malakess. Where are your manners?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted, physically incapable of looking at that har again. ‘I feel ill. Excuse me, tiahaara.’

 

Almost blind, I lurched from my chair and ran from the room. I fled to my own room, threw myself on the bed, and erupted into a fit of weeping. I realised, with horrible sick despair, how much I was still in love with Ysobi, no matter how I’d tried to squash all the feelings flat, fold them away and close the lid on them. How could life be so cruel? Why did it have to throw this har who looked like Ysobi in my path? Malakess har Kyme. Not a grey beard in sight. He was beautiful to me.

Huriel came to find me only minutes later. No doubt he’d been embarrassed having to explain to his great teacher that he’d taken on a lunatic like me. ‘What on earth’s the matter with you?’ he asked me.

‘Nothing,’ I said. Pathetic.

‘You look like you saw a ghost down there. What was it you saw in Malakess?’

Couldn’t Huriel see it himself? He knew Ysobi well, and had trained him here in Kyme. I thought the similarity was obvious, and certainly didn’t want to say it. An inventive fiction was in order. ‘I’m sorry, Huriel. I must have embarrassed you. The fact is, I think I’ve got a problem about going out. I was thinking about it when Tiahaar Malakess arrived, and it made me feel physically sick.’

Huriel sat down on my bed and folded his arms. ‘We’ll have to do something about that.’

I nodded. ‘Yes… I really am sorry. Ag knows what it must have looked like, me running out like that. I thought I was going to vomit.’

‘Stay up here for a while,’ Huriel said. ‘Calm down. Then go into the garden, take some air. Perhaps you’d feel better going beyond the grounds with somehar else. We’ll talk about it with Ystayne and Rayzie.’

‘Do we have to?’

‘There are no secrets in this house,’ Huriel said. ‘They’re good hara. They’ll help you.’

He patted one of my legs and then left me.

I curled onto my side, and I swear I could smell Ysobi’s personal scent around me. Morning sunlight came in through the window, filtered green by the Virginia creeper that had stretched tendrils over it. The day was so beautiful and mellow and there I was, remembering the way Ysobi used to smile at me, how he was always so pleased when I got something right in my caste work, because I could be such a nasty petulant thing and liked to annoy him by not working. When I did something well, he saw it as an achievement for both of us. Back then, in those days when I had begun to see him as more than a teacher, I thought he had exorcised the ghosts of my past, but in fact he’d invoked them. He’d opened me up, as if I was spread-eagled on a dissecting board, and had started fiddling around with my insides. He didn’t know about my past, of course. I didn’t tell him, when I should have done.

Curled in on myself, I tried to banish the image of Ysobi’s face from my mind. I wept because I knew I could never see him again. He had a chesnari, who had fought for him and won. Once Ysobi had truly realised what I’d felt for him, he’d acted horrified and had backed off, even though he’d been responsible, for the most part, for making me feel that way. I know he’d wanted to make me love him but once he’d achieved that, it became a nuisance, so he’d abandoned me without a second thought. Jassenah, his divine consort, had been free to gloat. I wonder if they ever talk about me? If so, it’s probably to laugh. I was just a harling to them, and a messed up one at that. Their pity would be worse than their scorn. Why, why, why did my stupid parents send me to Jesith?

Such thoughts are pointless. It is torture. Love is a vile thing. It’s a disease. I’m still infected, but once I’m over it, and I’ve decided I will get over it one day, it’ll never ever happen again.

 

Later

 

After an hour or so, I felt stable enough to go back downstairs and out into the garden. One of the staff, Ystayne, was out there, kneeling on the lawn next to the herb bed, cutting some sprigs for lunch with a pair of tiny silver scissors. He was so precise about it. It made me feel warm inside for some reason. I wandered over to watch him and he glanced at me over his shoulder. ‘I heard you had a fit at breakfast.’

‘Hmm, yes,’ I said. ‘I’m scared of going beyond this house.’

Ystayne twitched a smile. ‘Oh dear. Do you want to come into town with me later?’

As my phobia was only partly fictional, I said, ‘Thanks. I think perhaps I should.’

‘Yes, don’t let it get too strong a hold.’

There was a pause, then I had to ask. ‘Do you know about me, Ystayne?’

He didn’t look at me. ‘Everyhar knows about you, Gesaril. Gossip flies as quickly here in Kyme as it does anywhere else.’

‘What happened in Jesith… It wasn’t all my fault, not really.’

He glanced at me again then and grinned. ‘Looking at you, lovely, I can see that perfectly.’

‘I’m not lovely on the inside.’

Ystayne stood up. ‘Who cares? Come to the kitchen after lunch.’

Ystayne, of course, is not your typical Kymian in the Codexia sense. In fact, the community comprises two sorts of hara: the scholars and academics and then everyhar else who looks after them while they wrestle with their mighty thoughts. As I sat on the lawn, it occurred to me that I must eventually be intimate with hara again, and that Ystayne would be more than willing to accommodate me in that regard. Another realisation occurred. I’m more scared of taking aruna than of going out into town. I have no desire for it at all. Physically numb. Ysobi has done this to me. Wretched wretched har. Perhaps if I train myself to hate him, things will be easier for me.

Huriel asked me to join him and Malakess for lunch. There was no way I could eat in front of that har, so I still had to pretend to be ill. After lunch, when Huriel and Malakess had once again retired to Huriel’s office for more talk, I went to the kitchen.

‘You do look off colour,’ Ystayne said. ‘Are you sure you want to come out today?’

‘Might as well,’ I said. ‘If I feel weird, can I hold onto your arm?’

‘Do so anyway,’ Ystayne said. ‘I’ll enjoy the envious looks it’ll earn me.’

And he did get envious looks. We laughed about it. He took me to the market, and I didn’t feel strange at all. I wanted to look around some of the old buildings, soak up the atmosphere. Ystayne showed me the black church, which is really bizarre. It’s supposed to be a religious building, but it looks like the sort of place where people would have been sacrificed by men wearing cowls. Why would someone build a church out of black bricks? Perhaps they were cheaper. Or maybe the builders really were evil dark magicians. How funny.

We ended our walk by taking tea in a café in the town square. There were trees all around us, the sunlight coming down and flowers growing in old barrels by the café door. Ystayne flirted with me and I half-heartedly responded. He’s not a bad-looking har, and quite young, probably second generation like me.

Eventually he asked me: ‘Do you sleep alone?’

‘Yes, but for the ghosts,’ I replied. ‘Why?’

‘We wonder, Rayzie and me, exactly why Huriel brought you here from Jesith. The answer seems obvious.’

‘It’s not what you think. He’s never touched me.’

Ystayne raised his eyebrows. ‘Is the har mad?’

I took a breath. ‘I have problems. Huriel knows that. He doesn’t desire me, and that’s good. I need to be alone for a while, sort my head out.’

Ystayne could not hide his disappointment. ‘That’s a shame.’

I laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll come knocking on your door the moment I change my mind.’

Ystayne pulled a face. ‘Sorry, am I that obvious?’

‘Yes.’ I reached out and flicked the end of his nose. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘You’re used to it, of course.’ He shook his head and sighed.

Yes, I am used to it, Ystayne, and to be honest I’m sick of it too. It’s like the moment hara see me, they think they have this divine right to possess me. It’s as if I have to pay for the fact that I’m beautiful by having to give myself to everyhar who wants me. If I say no, hara think there’s something wrong with me, which of course there is. And then, when I do find somehar I really like, this beauty thing gets in the way. He’ll think he won’t be able to interest me for long, or maybe when he looks at me, he thinks about the thousands of hara I’ve supposedly taken aruna with, because I’m so irresistible I must be rooning constantly. You see, it’s really annoying. Inevitably, I go for those who seem the most challenging – except perhaps for Huriel. He doesn’t have that whiff of danger about him that I like, I think. It’s obscene that Malakess looks like Ysobi, because he’s a tedious academic and that face doesn’t belong to him. Nohar has the right to look like Ysobi and not be him. Why can’t Huriel see it? He could have warned me. Surely he can see it? I’m rambling to myself. Maybe I should shave off my hair and eyebrows. Would that make a difference?

 

Agavesday, Meadowmoon 28

 

It’s as if the universe has cracked its knuckles and thought Aha, how can I discomfort this wretched creature even more? I say this because Malakess has been around a lot the past few weeks. I’ve become very adept at avoiding him, because every time I see him, I get that cold shock. He is actually a lot more physically attractive than Ysobi, who as I said is rather odd-looking, but to me his looks just seem washed out and pale in comparison, despite the shock I experience each time I lay eyes on him. He gives me strange glances, as if he’s just turned over a stone and some weird insect is waving its feelers in his face. No doubt he thinks I’m peculiar. Whenever we bump into each other, which thankfully is only rarely, he’ll pause for a moment, then incline his head and say, ‘Hello, Gesaril.’ It sounds sort of insulting, which should make it easier for me, but it never does.

I’ve been making friends with Ystayne and Rayzie, who are easy going and, despite claiming to be gossips, never try to question me about the past. Rayzie was the more cautious to begin with, and I thought this might be because he and Ystayne are an item, and Ystayne makes no secret of the fact he likes me, but it isn’t that. Rayzie is just cautious with every new har he meets. I’m glad it isn’t the same old story, with Rayzie running off to his friends to complain about me being a predator, and so on.

One night, Rayzie and I got drunk together and sat outside in the garden to look at the stars. We sprawled on the lawn that was wet with dew. Once a fox stared at us from the bushes; eyes like topazes. Somewhere nearby, a har was singing; the song came through the evening like a sad memory. I couldn’t hear the words, but I didn’t need to. It was a song of longing; perhaps it made both Rayzie and I think. He said to me, ‘You really are extraordinary to look at, Gesaril. I bet you get fed up with hara lusting after you.’

This was actually the first time anyhar had said this to me, in quite that way. ‘I hate it,’ I said, tongue loosened by the wine we’d drunk. ‘It’s like they can’t see me, and my body is a prison I’m trapped inside.’

Rayzie nodded. ‘I can understand that.’ He clasped my shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll get better as you get older.’

‘Will it?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You’ll have a different kind of beauty then, and because you won’t be young anymore, hara won’t think they can take liberties or make assumptions. I’ve noticed myself how hara can be with second generation. It’s like we’re some kind of delicious treat. They’d never dare treat their peers that way.’

‘Did it get better for you?’ I asked.

He laughed. ‘I’m not in your league, but yes, it did.’ He paused. ‘Soume is strong in the young. It makes us seem like young women, and a lot of first generation, who of course all used to be men, don’t realise that appeals to them so much. They have a tendency to treat us in a similar way to how men used to treat women.’

I’d never heard such an astounding idea, mainly because I’d never thought about it. ‘What do you mean? How did men treat women?’

Again, he laughed. ‘Like hara treat you! Sweetmeats for the bedroom… sometimes. Women had to fight to get political power. I study anthropology – that’s the study of humans - whenever I can, because I used to feel a bit like you do now.’

‘Was that why you wanted to be in Kyme, to study?’

He shrugged. ‘Partly. It’s difficult to get work in the houses of the Codexiae, and Huriel has been good to me.’

‘But you clean his home!’ I exclaimed. ‘Why aren’t you studying with him like me?’

‘My parents don’t have much to barter with, and certainly no coin,’ Rayzie said.

‘Oh.’ I didn’t tell him that my education was free, simply to get me away from Jesith and the tarnished reputation of the esteemed Ysobi. ‘Do you mind cleaning the house?’

‘No,’ Rayzie said. ‘It’s very relaxing and I can think while I’m doing it. Nohar bothers me.’

‘I like it here too,’ I said. ‘In some ways, it seems enchanted, like I’ve left life behind and have come to live in a dream.’

Rayzie nodded. ‘Huriel is a good har. He treats us all like family, but that’s because he has none, I suppose.’

‘He doesn’t have a chesnari,’ I said. ‘Has he ever had anyhar special?’

‘I’ve been here for three years, and the answer is no, not in my time. Ystayne and I know he has liaisons, but he’s always discreet about them. He’s a strange one. Comes from being a scholarly type, I expect. In human times, they were often anti-social creatures. Hara can’t be that different. Huriel loves words more than hara.’

‘You seem to know a lot about humans,’ I said.

‘We should all know,’ Rayzie replied. ‘Otherwise, we could end up the same way.’

‘Does Huriel know about your thoughts?’ I couldn’t resist asking.

Rayzie twisted his mouth to the side. ‘He knows I like studying.’

‘Maybe you should talk to him. I don’t think income is his first priority when it comes to education. You should be doing something other than cleaning houses, Rayzie.’

 

Rayzie shook his head, but he was grinning. My comment had pleased him. ‘Perhaps. Like you, I enjoy life here. I’m not eager for change.’

I sensed he wanted me to drop the subject, so I did, but it made me think.

 

Aruhanisday, Ardourmoon 6

 

Today was an interesting day, in the sense of interesting being somewhat grotesque and unexpected. At breakfast, Huriel announced he wished for me to help the High Codexia that morning. He did this without looking at me, which should have perhaps told me something.

‘What?’ I exclaimed. ‘Why?’

‘He needs somehar to take notes for him, for a report he’s sending to Immanion. You’re quick at writing things down. I think it’d be good for you.’

‘I’d rather not,’ I said. ‘I’ll do anything else. Ask Rayzie to do it. I’m sure he’d like to.’

‘Rayzie?’ Huriel raised his brows, smothered a smile. ‘I don’t think so, Gesaril. This is part of your job.’

‘The High Codexia intimidates me.’

‘All the more reason to do what I ask. You shouldn’t be intimidated. He doesn’t judge you as much as you think.’

Since I hadn’t even considered Malakess might judge me, this told me he probably did. For some reason, Huriel had set his heart on me becoming acquainted with his mentor. Perhaps he sensed undercurrents of discomfort in the house. Whatever I said, he wouldn’t listen to me. I couldn’t tell him the real reason for my lack of enthusiasm, though.

So, I had to steel myself for this encounter. I could write fast, and if I kept quiet, Malakess might speak quickly. The whole idea of the High Codexia annoyed me intensely. I couldn’t forgive him for his appearance, because I still thought he had no right to look like that. At least I wouldn’t have to go to his house or his office in the library, since he was coming here to Huriel’s. He spends a lot of time here. It makes me wonder whether his own house isn’t very homely.

When he arrived, Huriel called me from the kitchen, where I was talking with Ystayne and Rayzie. I’d needed inane chatter to keep the monsters in my head at bay. Dutifully, I went to Huriel’s office, note pad and pen in hand. It couldn’t be that difficult, I kept telling myself, because this is not Ysobi. You must remember that.

I closed the door to Huriel’s office behind me, sensing the presence of another, even though I didn’t raise my eyes. I sat down before the desk, behind which Malakess loomed invisibly, and said, ‘I’m ready, tiahaar. Please dictate to me. I can write very fast.’

He dictated to me for over an hour, so that my fingers began to ache. His voice was nothing like Ysobi’s sensual low tones, being quite brittle and formal. What he dictated to me was dry, all about the dissemination of knowledge from human times, and how hara needed to be educated to believe it wasn’t inherently evil. Rayzie would have been so much more suited for this job. Malakess thought that not everything from the old days was bad, and much of it should be salvaged. I couldn’t disagree with that. But he went on to reiterate (to the hara who would read his words and know this fact well, of course) that some tribes have a visceral loathing of anything human, especially their technology and industry. Malakess was trying to propose a middle way, which did not exploit the world or its creatures, but which was forward looking.

After an hour, he paused. ‘Stop writing,’ he said.

I did so.

Malakess sighed. ‘So many hara have said these things before, not least members of the Hegemony in Immanion. Why should I think I can make a difference?’

I didn’t reply, simply because I didn’t think he expected me to.

He laughed coldly. ‘I take it you agree with me, then.’

‘I have no opinion, tiahaar,’ I said, ‘since I don’t have the experience to judge.’

‘But what do you think, Gesaril? You’re second generation. You’re not tainted by preconceptions. Tell me what you think.’

I shrugged awkwardly, examining the pen in my hands. ‘I don’t know. Everything I’ve heard sounds like a good idea to me, but then I haven’t heard any other har talk this way.’ I paused. ‘Except for my friend, Rayzie, who works here. He’s very interested in anthropology.’ I was glad I could remember the word.

‘Are you interested in it?’

‘I like to listen to Rayzie,’ I said. ‘Is there still anything you wish me to take down, tiahaar?’

There was a silence from behind the desk. I wondered if I’d been too rude. I wished he wouldn’t try to talk to me.

Then he said, ‘Gesaril.’

I squirmed, but tried not to show it. ‘Yes, tiahaar?’

‘Will you look at me?’

Reluctantly, I raised my eyes for a second, let them get scorched, then lowered my gaze.

I heard him sigh. ‘Look at me, please. For more than a second.’

What choice did I have? I looked up and saw Ysobi sitting there. I tried to think there was no similarity, or that what similarity existed was only small. It was like putting pins into my eyes. ‘Yes, tiahaar?’

‘I have to say something about this, because it puzzles me. Whenever I run into you, you look at me as if I’m about to torture you to death and then you flee. Have I unwittingly offended you?’

I’m not prone to blushing, but coloured up at that. ‘No… no tiahaar. Nothing.’

‘Then, why? You haven’t looked at me once today since you’ve been here, until I asked you to. Is this some extravagant form of etiquette you were taught at home?’

I shook my head. ‘Not really. I wish only to be polite.’

‘It’s more than that,’ he said. ‘I can sense it. I think you should tell me.’

‘I would like to go now, please,’ I said desperately.

He was silent another moment, during which time I looked away from him, then I heard him say, ‘Yes, go.’

I fled.

 

Later, Huriel came to me. I was sitting on my bed staring at the notes I had written, my heart still staggering and reeling at different moments.

‘Would you write out what Malakess dictated to you in a neat hand?’ Huriel asked.

I nodded. ‘Of course.’

Huriel sat on my bed and folded his arms, always a sign he felt we needed to talk. Now, I couldn’t even look at him. ‘Gesaril,’ he said. ‘I think we should have a little chat.’

I didn’t say anything.

‘Malakess isn’t pleased,’ he said. ‘Why are you so rude to him?’

‘I’m not,’ I said. ‘I don’t mean to be.’

‘You’ve obviously taken an instant dislike to him, which I find perplexing. He’s not a har to dislike, Gesaril.’

‘I have no opinion about him,’ I said. ‘I don’t know him.’

Huriel exhaled through his nose. ‘I insist that you tell me what the problem is.’

In those words were the reminders of how much Huriel had given me, with no cost attached, of any kind. I looked at him then. ‘It’ll sound really stupid. I don’t want to tell you.’

He displayed his palms. ‘I don’t care how stupid it is, I just want to know.’

I took a deep breath. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t guessed. I can’t believe you haven’t guessed.’

‘Guessed what?’ He sounded exasperated.

‘Malakess looks like Ysobi,’ I said, hating the words, because they really did sound stupid.

Huriel frowned. ‘Does he?’

‘You must know he does!’ I blurted. ‘How can you not see it?’

He shrugged. ‘Well… I suppose there is a slight resemblance… the hair, the shape…. They are both unusually tall. I don’t know. Is this why you’ve been so rude to him?’

‘It’s his eyes,’ I said, realising it for the first time, those piercing, unsettling cobalt eyes, ‘and yes, the hair, the shape.’

‘Hmmm,’ murmured Huriel. ‘In that case, you should probably confront the problem. There’s no sense in trying to avoid him. It’s ridiculous. He’s not Ysobi, you know that. Do you desire him?’

‘No!’ How could Huriel think that? Rayzie would say it’s because he’s first generation.

Huriel shifted on the bed. ‘Well, seeing as Malakess is my closest friend as well as my mentor, he deserves an explanation. You must tell him. He’s concerned he’s affronted you in some way.’

‘You tell him!’ I said ‘Really, it’s nothing. I know it’s ridiculous. Please… no… don’t tell him. I’ll work with him tomorrow and the day after. I’ll look at him and be nice. I promise.’

‘No, Gesaril.’ Huriel was stern. ‘You went through a harrowing experience in Jesith. This is part of the healing process. You must tell Malakess your thoughts. Look him in the face and realise he’s nothing like Ysobi at all. This is for you, not for him.’

 

‘I can’t believe you’d put me through that,’ I said bitterly.

‘It’s because I care for you that I can,’ he said gently. ‘Really, Gesaril, Malakess is no ghost. He’s different. You need to see that.’

‘I love him… Ysobi,’ I said.

Huriel nodded once. ‘I know.’ He paused. ‘If you wish to speak to me about it, you can, you know. I know Ysobi very well.’

‘Then why should you want to listen to me?’

Huriel gave me a gentle smile. I wanted to trust him. ‘I know you’re not a fool. And it’s sometimes better to get something out in the open rather than keep it locked up inside… don’t you think?’

I nodded. ‘I really want to hate him, but I can’t. Why is that? When I see his face in my head, I think he’s not even that attractive.’ I put my head in my hands, rubbed my temples hard. ‘Why did he affect me so, Huriel? Why can’t I banish him from my head and my heart? It makes no sense. He abandoned me to the wolves. That’s what it felt like. He made me love him, then he threw me away. How can I love a har like that?’

I glanced at Huriel and he was inspecting me keenly. I realised I’d said something that had either surprised or angered him. ‘What do you mean exactly?’ he asked crisply.

‘You know,’ I said. ‘You know the story.’

‘I know that you demanded something from him emotionally, then caused trouble when your… desire… wasn’t reciprocated. Ysobi has a certain effect on hara, especially given the nature of his work. I don’t think he realised what he was doing to you, and in that way I can see you weren’t totally responsible.’

I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Who told you all that? Him?’

‘Perhaps I would like to hear your side of it now.’

‘What is there to say? He said so many things to me, and if he didn’t mean them, it makes him a monster. I thought… I was given to believe my feelings were returned. Do you think I would have abased myself like that otherwise? I do have pride, you know.’

Huriel put his head to one side, stared at me, and I wouldn’t flinch away from his gaze. ‘Looking at you, I can see you are telling the truth as you see it.’

‘As I see it?’ I thumped the bed with both hands. ‘It was unmistakeable, even though since then I’ve sometimes questioned my own sanity about it. I wish I could replay my memories for you, like pictures on a wall. That is the cruelty of it all, doubting myself. Do you understand?’

‘Tell me everything,’ he said. ‘I want to know.’

And so I did; all the trivial little details I could remember. The conversations we’d had, when I’d known, in the deepest core of my heart, the subject under discussion was not always what it appeared to be. The hidden language of love; a love so secret, so forbidden, it had be disguised in pictures, in code. Aruna had been part of my training, yes, but in fact Ysobi and I had been more intimate in other ways. The glances that had lingered too long. The knowledge in a har’s eyes. The way my flesh had ignited when he’d stood behind me and the aura of his body had touched mine. His voice. His gaze holding mine. He had stared into my eyes and said these things. I will always be here. I’m not going anywhere. You can say anything to me… anything. We must be honest with each other.

He had taken my hands in his. He had held me for hours as I’d spilled my heart to him. I’m not who you think I am. I’m not worth it. But still he’d held me, and still we had continued along that treacherous path we’d set our feet upon.

Black crows in a white sky, flying away. His words.

As I relived this pain, so vivid because in my mind it wasn’t a memory, it was still happening, I tried to speak as honestly as I could. I tried to be objective. That’s difficult when you’re trying to convince somehar you’re not mad or a liar. Even as I was speaking, a mean little voice inside me was saying, ‘ah, but did it really happen that way?’ I spoke so openly, I forgot who I was speaking to. I wonder if that was a mistake?

When I ran out of words, Huriel stood up and walked to the window. He stared out of it for some moments, then shook his head. ‘I don’t know what to say. That is a very different account to what I’ve been told.’

‘Of course it is. But do you believe me?’

He came back to me. ‘How can I not when you speak with such rawness? How can I not believe you when I look into your eyes and see your pain? It’s my belief no har can feel as you do and it not be based upon… something.’ He grimaced. ‘Ysobi was one of my most gifted students, and sometimes he scared me with his intensity. Hara are drawn to him, and although he might like to be modest about it, I think he knows only too well what effect he can have, and it’s my belief he uses that for his own advantage, consciously or not. He likes to be liked, to be loved.’ Huriel sighed, and for a brief moment looked wistful.

I stared at him, shocked, wondering whether Ysobi had exercised his arunic arts on this dry, bookish har.

Huriel laughed, clearly having picked up my loud, unguarded thoughts. ‘It was part of our training, Gesaril, although perhaps not as great a part as you experienced.’ He patted my shoulder. ‘Whatever happened, it’s done. If he broke your heart, then let it mend. Don’t bring Ysobi here with you. Make your life anew. Part of that is banishing the phantoms. You do understand me, don’t you?’

I inclined my head. ‘Yes. I understand.’

‘I’ve told Malakess what a bright har you are. He knows how highly I regard you. It would please me if you could be comfortable in his presence.’

I can see the sense in it. Ysobi has no right to be here, nor to possess Malakess in my eyes.

 

Later

 

I walked through a miserable drizzle to the house of Malakess. It was actually a lot smaller than Huriel’s and nowhere near as interesting. I really can’t say what was on my mind as I trudged up the drive. I wasn’t as nervous or angry as I could have been. Neither did I fear humiliation. It was strange. I told myself the old Gesaril would have made a big drama out of this situation; the new Gesaril would sort out the problem quickly so he didn’t have to brood about it.

The front door to the house was weathered and the brass knocker, in the shape of a lion’s head, was dull with neglect. An ancient wisteria grew up the side of the house, but it needed pruning and tidying, since it had lots of dead branches within it, and the living bits covered many of the windows. It seemed I’d been right about Malakess’s abode; no wonder he preferred the comforts of Huriel’s house. I banged the knocker three times and imagined the sound reverberating through empty corridors. Would Malakess have furniture? Maybe he only lived in a couple of rooms.

After only a short wait the door opened. I’d prepared my speech, but then found myself tongue-tied, because it wasn’t Malakess who’d answered my knock. I should have anticipated he’d have staff. After all, he was High Codexia. A young har stood before me, refined of feature with long fairish hair. He peered at me in enquiry, which suggested this household didn’t receive many visitors.

‘Good day, tiahaar,’ I began. ‘Is Tiahaar Malakess at home?’

The har before me frowned a little. ‘He’s very busy. I’m his assistant. Can I take a message?’

Oh, so he was a guard dog. I inclined my head. ‘Not really. I work for Tiahaar Huriel, and he has asked me to speak to Tiahaar Malakess personally.’

The har wasn’t convinced, I could tell, but he thought about it for a few seconds, then relented. ‘You’d better come in.’

I too bowed my head politely and stepped over the threshold. Inside, I could smell roses and the hallway was surprisingly light and airy. A white tiled floor supported a well polished table and a stand by the door for coats. Perhaps Malakess was renovating this house gradually.

‘Wait here,’ said the assistant and marched off down a corridor straight ahead. He had the same proprietorial air that Jassenah in Jesith had had; maybe Malakess was his Ysobi. Suddenly, the idea of my confession became infinitely less attractive.

I didn’t have to wait long. After only a minute or so, the assistant returned. His expression was not at all friendly. ‘He’ll see you. Follow me.’

I said nothing, but complied with his order. He led me into the house and paused at a door, upon which he knocked with a single knuckle. It all seemed a bit ridiculous to me, since Malakess knew I was here. A voice came from the room within: ‘Enter!’

The assistant opened the door, pulled a mordant face at me, and indicated I should obey the words of the great har. ‘Thank you,’ I said, smiling sweetly, and stepped into the room. The door was closed behind me so swiftly, the resulting gust of wind nearly made me stagger.

This was clearly Malakess’s office. There were book shelves, but they weren’t as crammed as Huriel’s were. The desk was also smaller and suspiciously tidy. I got the impression that Malakess had come here swiftly to meet me, and that the room wasn’t used much usually. He was leaning against the desk, arms folded, a tall lean shape poured perfectly into the room. His hands were amazing. ‘What can I do for you, Gesaril?’ he asked. ‘Huriel has a message for me?’

‘Not exactly,’ I replied. ‘He suggested I come and speak to you.’ This was not going to be easy, I could tell. Perhaps I should make an excuse and leave.

Malakess nodded once. ‘Sit down… please.’ He moved behind the desk and took a seat there. Now this was like a formal interview.

I sat down on a window seat, which was in fact the only available place, and it was just a fraction too far from the desk for comfort. I might even have to raise my voice a little. This was absurd. ‘Huriel thinks I’ve been disrespectful to you,’ I said, improvising my script wildly, since I now realised I hadn’t a clue what to say.

Malakess raised his eyebrows. ‘And you’re here to apologise?’

‘Yes… I’m sorry.’ There, that had been surprisingly easy.

‘So, are you going to tell me now the reason behind your behaviour?’

Hmm, I wasn’t going to get away that easily after all. I refused to squirm, but steeled myself to look him in the eye. It was like being struck by a small bolt of lightning; those same electric eyes. A small cold part of me suspected Malakess knew exactly what I felt, but was cruel enough to make me say it. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me suffer. ‘It has never been rudeness, but discomfort,’ I said, trying to sound aloof and objective. ‘You remind me of somehar, that’s all. Sometimes, it’s difficult to ignore the jolts of recognition a deceptively familiar face invokes. There’s nothing more to it than that. I never intended to offend you, tiahaar.’

‘Who do I remind you of?’

I still held his gaze. He thought this was very amusing. ‘I think you know,’ I said, hopefully with dignity, and got to my feet. Whatever Huriel’s fond projections for this meeting, it was clear they would never be realised.

‘Oh, do sit down, Gesaril,’ Malakess said, laughing. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know, actually. I just hope it was somehar presentable.’

I wouldn’t sit down again, but decided not to leave just yet. ‘You know my history?’ I asked.

Malakess displayed his palms, shrugged. ‘Some of it. You came from Jesith under a cloud. You’re reputed to be a troublesome young thing, or maybe just troubled. It’s not my concern. It’s the past. Why dwell on it?’

‘I trained in Jesith under Ysobi. You know of him?’

Malakess nodded, pulled down the corners of his mouth in rather a caustic smile. ‘Of course,’ he said dryly. ‘One of Kyme’s brightest students, a credit to our academy.’

‘Our relationship became… unprofessional,’ I said. ‘It caused problems in the community. I had to leave.’

Malakess frowned. ‘I’m not sure I understand you, but then I don’t really want to know. What has this to do with me?’

‘You look like him. You look like Ysobi.’ There, it was said. I braced myself for his response.

‘Oh… A bad reminder. I see.’ He smiled more naturally. ‘Do I really look like him? I can’t see it myself.’

‘It seems I’m the only one who can.’

‘So you’re afraid I’ll be harsh with you? You’re expecting criticism or punishment, maybe? Please don’t think that. I know nothing about you, really. I don’t care what you did in Jesith. As long as you work well here, that’s all that matters. And from what I’ve heard, you’re doing very well.’

In those words, I sensed an impending dismissal. He didn’t get it at all: thank the dehara. ‘Well… thank you,’ I said, ducking my head. ‘I won’t keep you any longer. It was important to Huriel I explain myself to you, and I intend to put all the ghosts behind me. I appreciate you listening to me. I must sound very stupid.’

Malakess waved a hand at me. ‘Think nothing of it. I appreciate your honesty also. I can see you find this difficult.’

I nodded. ‘I’m glad I came. Huriel was right.’

I began to walk towards the door but Malakess called me back. ‘Gesaril, please sit down again. I’d like to know more about you, your aspirations and so on. Has Huriel devised a programme of work for you? What about your caste training? Would you like tea? And don’t sit over there. You’ll find a chair outside the door in the hallway. Bring that in, sit by me.’

One thing I think I learned about Malakess that day was that he is not naturally devious, nor prone to playing subtle mind games. I told him I wasn’t sure what I wanted for the future, but that I enjoyed my work with Huriel, and that eventually I’d know what I wanted to do with my life.

‘True, you have plenty of time,’ Malakess said. ‘You could train to become a codexia or a hienama here, if you wish.’ He waved an arm to indicate the entire room. ‘Look at this place. Nearly everything in this house is old, and was built or devised by humans. What will happen when it all wears out? Wraeththu need hara with fine minds for the future. There is much we have to accomplish.’

‘I know what you mean,’ I said, warming to the subject, since it was something I’d often discussed with Rayzie. ‘For example, every house has a clock, but do we have enough skilled clockmakers to repair them or make new ones?’ I shrugged. ‘Clocks are just one thing.’

‘Quite,’ said Malakess. ‘We want clocks but we don’t want factories or intensive industry, but maybe there are some who do.’ He tapped his lips with the fingers of one hand, staring out of the window. ‘What we have to decide is what is valid and useful, what luxuries are reasonable, and how to manufacture things without causing pollution or waste.’

‘It’s a very big task,’ I said.

‘That’s why I work with the Gelaming,’ Malakess said. ‘They have their faults, but also their uses.’

‘Hmm…’

‘You should go to Immanion one day. You’d find it interesting.’ He put his head to one side. ‘Where do you come from?’

‘The Shadowvales, not far from Jesith. Our community is an example of all that is best and worst about the Sulh.’

Malakess laughed. ‘I have heard of it. I wouldn’t have said worst… why do you say that?’

I shrugged awkwardly. ‘Hara there don’t live in reality. They think the world is a benevolent place, and when things don’t conform to that idea, they ignore them.’

‘Perhaps they are simply trying to create a better reality by living it.’

I laughed harshly. ‘Perhaps.’ That pathetic ideal had ruined my life. I wasn’t allowed to have horrors in my past. They had been ignored, pushed away, so that they condensed deep inside me only to leak out like poison.

There was a silence, and I didn’t even notice it. Malakess broke it, softly. ‘What happened to you, Gesaril?’

I debated whether to tell him. I’d kept silent in Jesith until it had been too late. ‘When I was a young harling, some friends and I were attacked by rogue hara. My parents…’ I shook my head. ‘They didn’t know how to deal with it, so they thought it best to ignore it.’

‘Were they ever caught, the attackers?’ Malakess asked sharply.

‘No. They were long gone by the time I managed to get home. I was lucky to survive. Others were taken, one killed.’

‘I’m… I’m very sorry to hear that,’ Malakess said. He paused. ‘Does Huriel know of this?’

‘Not yet,’ I said, sure that Malakess would tell him.

‘Did you suffer any… lasting injuries?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I think so. But more of the mind than the body.’

‘Understandable,’ Malakess said. ‘Perfectly so. Is this what caused your problem in Jesith?’

‘Yes and no… it was complicated.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘You said you didn’t want to know.’

‘It’s different now.’

I sighed. ‘No, I don’t want to talk about it. Thank you, but no.’ The only har I’d ever talked to about it, apart from Huriel, was Jassenah, of all hara; Ysobi’s chesnari. I’d thought him my worst enemy, but he’d saved me in Jesith. Without him, I’d be dead. He’d chased my phantoms away, the ones I’d dragged with me for many years. He’d chased them away once Ysobi had abandoned me to myself. It is hard to hate Jassenah now.

‘Take care with yourself,’ Malakess said gently. ‘Don’t keep things inside that need to come out. I don’t wish to sound patronising, but I am an ancient being in comparison to you, and believe me I saw and experienced many hideous things in the early days.’

I nodded. ‘I appreciate that.’

‘You know,’ Malakess said, ‘us incepted hara are completely aware of what the pure born think of us. But one thing you should consider: we at least have the experience of what it’s like to be afraid, what it’s like to suffer pain and cruelty, to live on the run, with no sanctuary, surrounded by those who can’t be trusted. Sometimes, in some situations, we are the best hara to speak to. Do you understand me?’

‘Utterly,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’ I wondered then what had happened to him, once long ago.

So despite my early misgivings, Huriel had in fact been right. Malakess was a decent and wise har, and I’d ended up enjoying his company. The more we’d talked, the less he’d discomforted me. Ysobi will fade from him slowly; it’s an exorcism.

When I finally left Malakess’s house, even the sky had cleared. I felt surprisingly light of spirit and decided to wander into town for a while. All around me, hara were going about their daily business. I felt invisible among them. My feet led me to the markets and there I browsed among the stalls. I walked down an aisle where everyhar sold curios, human artefacts scavenged from the ruins of long dead towns. Beyond this were merchants selling herbs and sachets, and equipment for the occult arts. I paused to peruse the wares of a young har who carved beautiful little boxes from various types of wood.

‘Every one of them is different,’ he told me.

I nodded and picked up one of the smallest boxes. This is the one, I thought. ‘How much?’ I asked the vendor.

‘Three bits to you,’ he replied. It was ridiculously cheap.

I smiled charmingly. ‘Thank you.’ I nodded towards a treasure heap of crystals that were strewn upon a cloth of black velvet on the stall. ‘I’ll take a quartz also.’

‘You can have one for free,’ said the har. He grinned. ‘Don’t take advantage. At least pick a small one.’

I laughed and did so. It didn’t matter how big the stone was; this was only a gesture. ‘Can you wrap it in something for me?’

The har nodded. ‘It’s a gift, then?’

‘Yes. Yes it is.’

I watched the har’s nimble brown fingers wrap up my purchase in what appeared to be handmade paper dyed blue. He bound it with twine and handed it to me. ‘Some har is lucky to be receiving a present from you,’ he said.

‘No, it is me who is lucky,’ I replied and gave him the money. ‘Thank you.’

After this, I went to a café and ordered a mug of the locally brewed cider. I asked the proprietor if he had writing implements, and he gave me a pen and some ink. I sat outside in the garden at the back of the café and wrote upon my parcel: Jassenah har Jesith, Lyonis. I hoped I had just enough money left to send it to him.

The mail bureau wasn’t very busy that day. I asked how long it would take for the package to reach Jesith and the clerk replied, ‘A despatch to the south goes out in two days. Given the route, it can take up to a month for items to reach their destination, but it’s often sooner than that. Depends what the rider has to deliver and where.’

I was pleased to discover that quite a lot of mail was scheduled for the south; this meant that the clerk was happy to charge me a pittance for my small delivery. ‘There’s a pile going to Jesith,’ he said. ‘As you must know, quite a lot of communication passes between here and there.’

I hadn’t known that, but looked upon it as a fortunate circumstance.

 

I had considered whether I should write a letter to Jassenah, but somehow I couldn’t find the heart to do it. I’d considered sending the package anonymously, but then on impulse, before I finally handed it over to the mail clerk, I asked for a pen and wrote ‘from Gesaril, Kyme’ on the back. I hoped the gesture of the exquisite little box and its pure sparkling contents would imply what I wanted it to imply.

Huriel was pleased with me, and didn’t question why I’d been out for most of the day. Perhaps he thought I’d spent all that time with Malakess. As the afternoon faded into evening, I began to feel uncomfortable about the package I’d sent to Jassenah. Was I sending it to him merely to maintain some kind of contact, no matter how tenuous, with Ysobi? My mind said not, but I wasn’t sure it could be trusted. I even considered going to the mail bureau in the morning to retrieve the package. But in the end I decided to let it go. I would deliver it into the hands of fate. Jassenah might throw my gift into the nearest pond, for all I knew.

 

Pelfazzarsday, Ardourmoon 8

 

An invitation has come. How could he? I can’t write any more today.

 

Lunilsday, Ardourmoon 9

 

So, this is what happened yesterday…

A function was being held at the Academy, in honour of a visiting delegation of Nagini, hara from a hot country far to the east. Malakess was invited to this party, naturally, and had sent me an invitation asking if I’d accompany him. Clearly, Huriel expected me to react with surprise and pleasure to the invitation, but honestly I felt sick and disappointed. I’d believed Malakess had understood and respected me; he’d seemed like the impartial teacher that Ysobi had never been. But then this. While Huriel enthused about what a privilege this was for me, I sat there in silence, staring at the note, thinking differently. All the time while we’d been speaking, Malakess had been like any other har and had wanted me. That’s what this was all about. As if he cared about whether or not I met dignitaries from a foreign land. He wanted me on his arm, no doubt, to show off to his colleagues, and then later he’d expect me to swoon into his bed. It was tiresomely predictable.

‘What’s the matter?’ Huriel asked, his excitement punctured by the fact I wasn’t sharing it.

I shrugged. ‘Well… I just didn’t expect this.’

‘It’s an amazing opportunity,’ Huriel said. ‘Not just anyhar gets invited to Academy functions, you know. I haven’t been asked to this one! And the hara from the Nagini are extremely high-ranking. Imagine what tales they’ll have to tell. We know so little of what goes on in other lands.’

‘I haven’t been invited,’ I said. ‘Malakess just had an invite for himself and a companion.’

‘So what?’ Huriel paused and frowned. ‘I thought everything was fine between you and Kess now.’

‘It is… well I thought it was. Why does he want me to go, Huriel?’

‘It’s simply a generous gesture,’ Huriel replied. ‘What do you mean?’

I sighed. ‘He could have asked me back to his house to teach me. He could have offered me work. He could even have told me about this event while I was with him.’ I shook my head. ‘No, he’s been thinking about me, that’s all. I’m sure he’s telling himself he’s concerned for me, and can help me, but ultimately it’s just down to the same old thing.’

Huriel’s expression had become flinty. ‘If you’re referring to intimacy, then surely that’s an intrinsic part of our being? If, indeed, he does wish to know you better, how can that possibly offend you?’

I pressed my hands briefly against my eyes. ‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘but it does. It’s the assumption, maybe…’

Huriel expressed a humourless laugh. ‘Gesaril, you’re a lovely har, you and I both know that. Perhaps Malakess does desire you. Wouldn’t you be more offended if he didn’t?’

I glanced at him; he was regarding me with his head to one side. ‘No, I wouldn’t. You don’t understand.’

‘The way I see it, if one har desires another, he initiates some kind of social event in order to find out whether anything else is viable. Perhaps that is what your invitation’s about, but perhaps not. In either case, you should just go and enjoy yourself. You’re under no obligation to do anything you don’t want to do.’

‘I don’t want anything embarrassing to happen.’

Huriel rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, for the Ag’s sake, what kind of har do you think Malakess is? He can read signals, you know. Just go, Gesaril. Stop fretting about everything. If you don’t want to be with Malakess, fine, but there might be other hara there you like. One day you’re going to have to crawl out of that den you’ve built for yourself. You can’t remain alone for ever. It’s bad for you.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘I know so! Also, it will do you good to dress up and revel in your own loveliness for an evening. You never pay attention to how you look, and I can tell that’s not really in your nature.’

‘I haven’t got any suitable clothes, nothing formal, anyway.’

‘I’ll get you something.’

‘Huriel, no! You’ve done enough for me as it is.’ I don’t know why I bothered protesting, since it was obvious Huriel had already made up his mind.

 

And so, at my friend and mentor’s injunction, I have asked Ystayne to drop a note over to Malakess’s house saying that I am grateful for the invite and yes, I’d be delighted to accompany him to the Academy party. It has occurred to me that Malakess’s assistant should be the har to stand at his side at this important function. A wing of foreboding brushes my heart. How will this har feel when he finds out about my role in the proceedings? I can’t think about that. I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t even desire Malakess. If hara want to make something more of it, then they can. I don’t care.

 

Aruhanisday, Ardourmoon 20

 

I feel as if I’m about to go through feybraiha again, or take a blood bond, or something. The household has been thrown into a flurry of the vapours at the prospect of my night out. Huriel ordered an assortment of clothes for me from Yorvik, Ystayne took me to the brother of a friend of his who trimmed my hair, (it was badly in need of attention, to be honest), while Rayzie insisted on spending nearly a whole day at the monthly fair with me, to buy bits of jewellery to go with my new clothes. I only need one set for the evening; it’s insane. It’s not as if I’ll be able to run off to the bathroom every half hour to change my costume. But Huriel seems to think that the function will open up an entire diary of social events for me, and that I’ll need a wardrobe for it. However, despite my initial exasperation, my friends’ behaviour is infectious and I’m starting to feel excited and nervous too. It is a big thing, far bigger than I’d thought. Phyle leaders from all over Alba Sulh will be at the event, as well as hara from Immanion and other tribes in Almagabra and surrounding countries.

Malakess has been conspicuously absent from the house for the past couple of weeks. At first, I thought this was to do with me, but Huriel told me it was because he’s immersed in arrangements for the event, as well as entertaining foreign hara who have already arrived in Kyme. Sometimes we see them in town; imposing hara in unusual clothes. Nohar has seen the Nagini yet, although they were supposed to have arrived two days ago. The party takes place tomorrow. This time tomorrow I will be getting ready for it.

 

Pelfazzarsday, Ardourmoon 21

 

I have tried on all my clothes at least three times each, standing before my mirror, eyeing myself critically. I’ve managed to persuade everyhar else in the house to leave me alone for an hour. This has displeased them greatly, and I feel a bit mean, because I know they want to share at least a small part of my big night out. But I need to be alone. I need to be with myself, the self who’s been curled up in my heart these past few months. Also, I think conflicting opinions about what I should wear would be confusing. I’ve eventually opted for a pair of wide loose trousers in dark forest green silk velvet, with a plain black silk top and an embroidered thigh length jacket that matches the trousers. I’ve never worn such costly garments before. It does wonders for the self esteem. My reflection doesn’t look like me. I’ve kept the accessories understated and haven’t done anything too shocking with my hair, despite the collection of jewelled pins, carved spikes and so on that Rayzie found for me. I’ve only brushed it and left it loose. It just touches my shoulders again, now that it’s been cut, and looks thicker. As for cosmetics, I’m still vain enough to think I don’t need them. I’ve simply applied the lightest brush of kohl around my eyes. When I’d finished my preparations, I took one last look at myself in the glass. Well, this is it. I’m about to walk out of my safe hiding place into the social world of Kyme. I have no idea where it will lead, but at least I feel excited about it.

 

Aghamasday, Ardourmoon 22

 

Well, a lot happened last night; some good, some not so good. I think I’ve made a complete fool of myself – again.

Once I’d finished getting ready, I went down to Huriel and the others, who were waiting in the sitting room for me. I made a grand entrance, as they expected me to do. Pausing at the threshold, I struck a pose and said, ‘Well, here I am. Will I do?’

Ystayne laughed loudly, Rayzie grinned and rolled his eyes, and Huriel said, ‘I think you know the answer to that! Here, have a glass of wine before Kess’s carriage arrives. Nervous?’

I went to take the glass off him and sat down on the edge of the sofa. ‘Yes. Very. I hope I don’t say anything stupid to the wrong har.’

‘Just stick by Malakess,’ Huriel said. ‘He won’t abandon you.’

I drank some wine. ‘He’d better not!’

Within minutes we heard the sound of horses’ hooves upon the gravel outside the house. A hot wave coursed through me. This was it. I stood up and handed my empty glass to Huriel. He hugged me and kissed my cheek. ‘You look marvellous,’ he said softly. ‘Rejoice in yourself, my dear. This is your time.’

I kissed him briefly on the lips. ‘Thanks, Huriel, for everything.’

He squeezed me. ‘Go. Don’t keep him waiting.’

While my new family stood in the window bay to watch me leave, I went into the hallway alone. I faced the great front door, took a breath, and opened it. Two black horses stood stamping on the drive, harnessed to an elegant black carriage. The driver touched his brow, in a gesture of greeting and appreciation. I inclined my head. Malakess opened the carriage door for me and I went to him.

The Academy of Kyme lies a couple of miles outside the town, so I had plenty of time to get more anxious and nervous than I already was. Malakess complimented me on my appearance and then made small talk, most of which I didn’t even hear. He was dressed all in black, his long dark red hair loose upon his breast, but for a couple of thin braids on each side. He was wearing kohl too, which made him look very different. His fingers were crammed with glittering rings and I could tell the stones were real gems, not glass. Like me, Malakess had put on for the evening a costume that was more than clothes. Tonight, he was High Codexia and must maintain an image.

When we were close to the Academy, Malakess leaned forward in his seat towards me. ‘Be wary of any Gelaming,’ he said. ‘They will descend upon you like hawks, and before you know it… well, anything could happen. You could wake up in a bed in Immanion.’

‘I hope you’ll protect me,’ I said, rather tersely.

Malakess smiled. ‘I’ll do my best, but we’re bound to get distracted and separated at times. Try to stay close. I’ll be swamped, but I’ll keep an eye out for you. Use this night to your advantage, Gesaril. Be alert for any opportunities.’

‘Such as Gelaming beds?’

‘Only if that is your preference.’

I grimaced. ‘No. Beds of any kind are not my preference at the moment.’

He said nothing to that, and the silence was slightly uncomfortable. Before I could stop myself, my mouth had blurted, ‘Why did you ask me to come with you?’

He gazed at me steadily, and for a moment that old ghost swarmed over him. I looked away. ‘Honestly? I am High Codexia. I want the most beautiful har in Kyme to be next to me tonight. You will be my protection too.’

I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that.

Every window in the Academy was aflame, it seemed. It is a huge building, hundreds of years old, and was once a stately home. Now it was a college, a local government centre, and a temporary home for important hara who came visiting from afar.

Carriages clustered in the driveway, guests milled around, while stable hara ran around trying to organise the parking of the vehicles. It was utter chaos. We couldn’t get the carriage anywhere near the main entrance, so the driver dropped us off halfway down the drive. Malakess and I walked together in silence, some feet apart, until the light from the great building fell over us. Then he took one of my hands and hooked it through his elbow. The show had begun.

‘This night is very important to you, isn’t it?’ I said.

Malakess nodded. ‘Yes. We want Kyme to be the repository for all Wraeththu knowledge. We want the Hegemony of Immanion to endorse us officially. We want students from other lands, and support to encourage the arts and learning, both here and afar. The Gelaming consider themselves the only ones capable of, or suitable for, such a task. They want Immanion to be the centre of everything. I have to convince them it’s in their interests to share control.’

‘Shouldn’t you have been here at the beginning?’ I asked. ‘You know, when everyhar arrived?’

He laughed softly. ‘Oh, I have my staff for that. I decided to arrive later. Don’t want to appear too eager or desperate.’

‘Your assistant will be there?’

‘You mean, Iscane? Yes. He’s in charge. Having a wonderful time issuing orders to the rest of the staff, no doubt.’

Well, that answered one question I’d pondered: whether this Iscane would resent me taking his place. He had a more important place, or so it seemed.

Some hara in the driveway recognised Malakess as we strolled up the wide front steps. They bowed and uttered greetings. I was conscious of many curious eyes upon me. Not many high ranking hara in Kyme had seen me before, even if they’d heard of me. They would be wondering who I was and where Malakess had found me. For the first time in months, I felt a flicker of sensuality within me. I wanted to be admired. It amused me to think all these hara would assume I shared Malakess’s bed. He was held in such high esteem I couldn’t help but feel good about being seen with him. I could never have accompanied Ysobi anywhere in public. I had been his secret, kept hidden away. Jassenah hadn’t known everything.

Furious with myself, I dismissed these thoughts. As Huriel said, this was my time. The past no longer mattered. I lifted my head. Jassenah would never attend an event like this.

In the hallway, Iscane was clearly in control of the proceedings. He stood at the door, greeting everyhar who arrived, and then announcing who they were in a loud, ringing voice. When it came to us, he raked me with an icy stare. ‘Who is your companion, tiahaar?’ he asked Malakess, keeping his cold eyes on me.

‘Gesaril har Shadowvales,’ Malakess replied.

Iscane announced us and we swept into the entrance hall. Hara in violet and red livery, dispensing drinks and exquisite morsels of food, mingled with the guests. The lighting was subdued and perfumed oil smoked in glass burners, filling the air with an herbal scent. The marble tiled floor beneath our feet was scattered with red petals. Everyhar present seemed at least two feet taller than me and oozed charisma and power. My hand had become sweaty against Malakess’s elegant sleeve. Perhaps for this reason, he disengaged me. ‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked.

I realised it would not be a good idea to get drunk and perhaps disgrace myself, but thought one or two would do no harm. ‘Please.’

Before Malakess could move the two or three steps to the nearest member of staff, a har swooped down upon him and took him by the arm. ‘Kess! I thought you’d chosen to ignore your own party. Where have you been?’ This har was radiant, confident and – well, what other word can I use? – luscious. He was dressed in a long robe of pale silvery grey fabric, his soft brown hair wound about the kind of fabulous tines that Rayzie had wanted me to wear. I wouldn’t have got away with it.

‘Chrysm, how nice,’ Malakess said mildly and kissed the har’s cheek. ‘I’m so pleased you were able to come.’

‘My pleasure,’ the har called Chrysm replied. ‘I was intrigued, to be honest. Also, I needed a break from Immanion. You know how it is.’

Malakess inclined his head. ‘Of course. You must stay for a couple of days if you can. My house is open to you.’

I didn’t think that Malakess’s house was really fit for a har of this stature, but I supposed Malakess didn’t think he’d accept the invitation anyway.

‘We’ll see,’ Chrysm said. He looked at me for the first time. ‘Well! Have you been stealing Gelaming harlings, Kess?’

‘No,’ Malakess replied. ‘This is Gesaril har Shadowvales, Sulh born and bred.’ He indicated the har before us. ‘Gesaril, this is Tiahaar Chrysm Luel, Hegemon for the Arts, from Immanion.’

I bowed my head. ‘Pleased to meet you, tiahaar.’ My first Gelaming. I could appreciate what Malakess meant about them.

Chrysm glanced about himself. ‘This is an impressive gathering, Kess. Be assured, I am impressed. I hear delegates from the Nagini are here.’

‘That is true,’ Malakess said.

‘How did you manage it? They’ve rejected all our overtures.’

Malakess left his mind open to me, and it was difficult not to smile. The Nagini wouldn’t have anything to do with the Gelaming simply because the Almagabrans assumed they were the cream of Wraeththu. The Nagini considered themselves to be equally creamy, if not more so. ‘They are a proud and self contained tribe,’ Malakess said. ‘One of our ether readers was fortunate enough to make contact with one of their hara one evening, and initiated a careful friendship over the ethers. We invited them here because we respect their knowledge and culture. We thought they would like to see our library.’

‘If the Nagini are staying here for some time, I might well take you up on your offer,’ Chrysm said.

I sent a quick mind touch to Malakess. Make him stay at Huriel’s. It was somewhat importunate, I know, but I just did it instinctively. A warm tickle of amusement touched my mind. Malakess understood me perfectly.

‘Where are you staying?’ he asked the Gelaming.

‘In a quaint hotel in town,’ Chrysm replied. By quaint, I supposed he meant beneath his standards.

‘Perhaps Tiahaar Huriel’s manse might be more to your liking,’ Malakess said. ‘It’s said he has the best house in Kyme.’

‘Is he here tonight?’

‘No, but Gesaril is part of his household.’

Chrysm laughed. ‘Oh? I thought he was part of yours, or do you share?’

I was shocked by that remark; it was incredibly rude, I thought, and just another example of how first generation regarded us young pure borns.

Malakess didn’t respond to it. ‘Do you want a drink, Chrysm? I was just about to get one for Gesaril and myself.’

‘Thanks,’ Chrysm said. ‘The red wine please. I tried the white and it’s disgusting.’

With horror, I watched Malakess move away. What on earth could I say to this thing in front of me?

‘I was joking,’ Chrysm said.

‘Excuse me?’

‘About the sharing. That sounded awful. Forgive me. My mouth runs away with me sometimes and my sense of humour is often questionable.’

‘Oh… that’s all right,’ I said. I warmed to him slightly. I suffer from the same trait, after all.

‘So, are you studying here in Kyme?’

I was pleased and relieved the Hegemon thought a morsel like me could be here for such a purpose. ‘Yes. I’m working with tiahaar Huriel. I live in his house.’

‘Have you ever been to Immanion?’

‘No. This is the first time I’ve left Lyonis, where I was born.’

Chrysm clasped one of my shoulders. ‘We must remedy that. The next time Malakess comes to Almagabra he must bring you with him. I can tell you’d go down extremely well in Immanion society. You could be Gelaming yourself. I really thought so when I first saw you.’

‘Umm, thanks.’ I presumed that was a compliment.

Malakess returned with the drinks. ‘Shall we move into the main salon, tiahaara?’

‘Yes,’ Chrysm said, sniffing the glass Malakess had given him. ‘I’m here with a few others. Nohar stellar, but some interesting types – a couple of artists and writers. I’ll introduce you.’

In the grand salon, a group of musicians were playing softly. High ranking academy staff were recognisable because they were dressed in robes of office; indigo fabric embroidered with silver thread. I didn’t think many second generation were present and felt somewhat out of place. I was glad few hara spoke to me.

Chrysm led us over to an alcove where most of his company were conversing together. Gelaming writers and artists are pretty much like what you’d imagine – quite full of themselves, self-appointed geniuses. One of the artists was named Sabarah. He was dressed in exquisitely draped white robes and his hair was almost the same colour, although his eyes were dark. His fingernails were long and unattractively pointed and dug into me when he took hold of my arm to drag me away from our companions. ‘I have to paint you,’ he announced, as if this was the greatest favour the dehara could bestow.

‘Okay,’ I responded warily.

‘At once. Tomorrow. You have inspired me. I must capture you, before you flit away.’

I sucked my upper lip, at a loss for words. ‘Mmm.’

‘I am utterly serious,’ said Sabarah, eyeing me beadily.

‘I’ll sit for you, if you would like me to,’ I said, wondering if that was what Malakess would want me to do.

‘I’ll make preliminary sketches. I can return any time to complete the work, or I could have you brought to Immanion.’

I smiled. ‘Tiahaar, I regret I would not have the time for such a journey.’

Sabarah raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you mean? I could have you over and home again within an afternoon. Chrysm will accommodate all my needs, and that includes sedu transport for the models I wish to work with.’

I had no idea what he was talking about. ‘It’s really up to my guardians,’ I said. ‘Perhaps you should speak to them.’

‘We can pay,’ Sabarah said frostily.

Anxiously, I glanced about, looking for Malakess. He was still engaged in conversation with the Hegemon. I put out a plea in mind touch, and at once Malakess turned and caught my eye. In that moment, something happened. Everything in the room seemed to go out of focus but for Malakess’s eyes. I gulped air, as if I’d surfaced from drowning.

Malakess excused himself from his companions and came to my side. ‘I’m sorry to drag Gesaril from you,’ he said to the artist, ‘but there are some introductions we have to make. Please excuse us.’

He took my arm and led me away. ‘Are you all right?’

‘No. No, I’m not.’

‘Damn Gelaming. What did he threaten you with?’

‘Painting me.’

‘Hmm, oh well, you’re unscathed. Dinner will be served soon. I think we can talk to somehar else now, don’t you?’

Suddenly, I was in a daze, confused and befuddled. What had happened? I was introduced to hara whose faces were mere blurs to me, whose voices were like the twittering of birds. I felt hot, sick and yet incredibly elated at the same time.

Presently, Iscane came into the salon and announced loudly that dinner was ready to be served and would we all please proceed to the dining hall. Malakess took my arm again. ‘You look very hot,’ he said. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, yes, just hot.’

‘Don’t let the Gelaming bother you. They were bound to target you. Grow a thick skin, Gesaril. You’re going to need it.’

Hara were moving past us back into the hall, on the way to the dining area. I felt as if they were swiftly moving shadows and Malakess and I were held in a pool of stillness. ‘They want me to go to Immanion.’

‘Not surprising. You will go. I’ll take you sometime. Life doesn’t begin and end for you here in Alba Sulh. You’re destined for bigger things.’

Unaccountably, tears welled in my eyes. Malakess brushed away the overspill that ran down my cheeks. ‘Hey,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t be overwhelmed. Be an ambassador for your tribe.’ He held my face in his hands and kissed my brow.

As he drew away from me, I saw Iscane staring at us, his wide-eyed expression that of a riled cat. If he’d had fur, it would be fluffed out. I took a step back. ‘I’m fine… honestly. Let’s go.’

The dining hall was immense. There were two long tables running down either side of the room, and a high table at top, where of course Malakess held a place of honour. The Nagini had so far deigned not to show themselves, but now made an appearance. Malakess said this was because they wanted to make it clear that they were not in Kyme for the party or to meet Gelaming. They were guests of the Sulh, it was dinner time, so they came to join us for the meal. I have never seen such exotic hara before. Their clothes were very colourful and their dark skins were like creamy coffee. Some wore turbans, while others affected complicated hairstyles. A few wore their hair long and straight, although the partings on their heads were coloured red or gold. Their jewellery was ostentatious, but I thought it looked wonderful. Some had delicate filigree chains attached to nose rings and earrings, and the skin of their hands and arms were painted with complicated patterns, which Malakess told me was henna. They moved softly and graciously like cats, and their eyes were beautifully shaped, what you call almond-shaped, outlined in kohl. They wore jewels stuck upon the centre of their brows and their voices were gentle and melodious, although only a few of them could speak our language. They seemed like dehara, creatures of myth.

I took my place beside Malakess at the top table with the leaders of the Nagini and Sulh of high rank. The Kymian phyle leader was present, the illustrious Poltenemy, who I had never seen before. He greeted me in a distant manner, and then devoted himself entirely to the Nagini. One of them sat on Malakess’s other side, so I was able to listen in to their conversation. It appeared that only a few of the delegation had graced the dinner. No second generation Nagini was present. I was eaten up with curiosity. I wanted to meet one of those younger hara. I had presumed the Nagini would be ascetic and distant, but this was not the case. They were perfectly affable with the Sulh and other tribes, maintaining their disdain for the Gelaming alone. Haruah, who sat next to Malakess, drank wine like any other har and then, before the dessert was brought in, showed us some conjuring tricks. He had a diamond set into one of his teeth, which glittered when he smiled. His jet black hair hung loose over his shoulders and was braided with golden beads. He was also first generation, and knew our language perfectly. I’d drunk more wine than I should have done by then, and said, ‘Will you teach me your magic?’

Haruah grinned. ‘Not magic, tiahaar, just illusion. Nohar learns the magic of the Nagini.’

Malakess laughed. ‘You are using on it us even now, my friend, aren’t you?’

Haruah gave Malakess a smouldering glance. ‘If you perceive so, then no. If I were, you would not be able to tell.’

‘Your magic is very strong,’ Malakess said.

I realised at that point that my presence might well become superfluous very soon. This depressed me. My mind was in such a spin, I wasn’t sure why exactly. When Malakess had met my eyes across a room, it had touched me. Did I desire him? Was that it? Why couldn’t I work out what I was feeling? One thing was obvious. I could not compete with this specimen of harish perfection now bewitching Malakess with his subtle magic. I felt about two years old.

Some time later, Malakess left the table to visit the bathroom. Haruah reached out and took hold of one of my hands. ‘It is only play,’ he said softly.

‘What is, tiahaar?’

He laughed and squeezed my fingers. ‘Do not drink any more.’ He winked. ‘Trust me.’

I felt my face grow hot, but put down the wine glass. ‘I don’t think… I don’t think I can do...’ I shook my head.

‘Then don’t think,’ said Haruah. He paused. ‘You will meet my son.’

‘Thank you, I’d like that.’

Another grin. ‘Oh, nothing to do with me, tiahaar. Nothing at all.’ It had not been an invitation but a foretelling. How strange.

It must have been well after two in the morning by the time Malakess decided we should leave. Actually getting out of the building took some time. Malakess was waylaid every few steps and had to arrange to have lunch, afternoon tea and then dinner with various Gelaming and Nagini. Sabarah, it was decided, would come to Huriel’s house to make sketches of me. My feet were aching, even though we’d been sitting down for most of the night, and my head was still half in some other dimension. The cool dark interior of Malakess’s carriage was a relief. I sighed and leaned back against the cushions.

‘You did very well,’ Malakess said as we began the journey home. ‘I know it was exhausting, but you were a credit to Kyme and to me.’

I grunted in response. The thought of my bed was the most delicious thing imaginable, or was it? Part of me was tired and aching, but another part was alert and panting for action. That part wanted to leap out of the carriage and run all the way home or perhaps away across the hills beyond Kyme. I could become a deer and just run for ever.

‘Gesaril?’

I opened my eyes and glanced at Malakess. What did he think of me really? Only a couple of weeks ago, I’d been affronted at the thought he might desire me, but now I thought he didn’t and that was somehow worse. Huriel had been right, it seemed. ‘What?’

He pulled a quizzical face. ‘You seem… strange.’

I put a hand over my eyes. ‘I am strange, yes.’ I lowered my hand. ‘You could have sent me home alone, you know. I wouldn’t have minded.’

He smiled. ‘I am not a har to rush things.’

What did that mean?

‘The Nagini are subtle,’ he continued. ‘But I am not as gullible as they think.’

‘Haruah is like a dehar,’ I said. ‘I can imagine him dancing, all in veils, which drop off one by one. By the final veil, you will nearly be dead with longing.’

Malakess laughed. ‘Striking imagery, Gesaril! But remember, the Nagini are named for serpent spirits. Handle with care if you don’t wish to be bitten, or constricted to death!’

‘A bite from a Nagini… hmm. I imagine it would take you to a world of dreams.’

Again, Malakess laughed. ‘You like them, don’t you. I think perhaps you should meet some of the younger ones.’

‘I’m told I will do.’ I swallowed, and it felt as if my throat were full of sand. ‘But maybe it is not the Nagini who inspire me, as our friend tiahaar Sabarah would say. Maybe it is somehar else.’

Malakess was silent, and a ringing tension filled the interior of the carriage. I shouldn’t have said that. Stupid of me.

I opened my mouth to speak again, but Malakess interrupted me. ‘You’ve drunk a lot, Gesaril. I’ll take you home.’

‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘Take me somewhere else.’

Malakess sighed, rubbed a hand over his mouth. ‘I am not Ysobi,’ he said.

Again, I was not sure of his precise meaning. He could have thought I wanted to pretend he was Ysobi, or was merely telling me he’d not take advantage of me as Ysobi had. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘You’re nothing like him.’

‘That’s not entirely true,’ Malakess said, ‘but nevertheless I’m taking you home.’

‘Kess…’ I had never called him that before. The short form of his name sounded intimate in my mouth.

‘No, Gesaril. I won’t be responsible for you in this way. Think about what you’re suggesting. Tomorrow, you’ll feel differently.’

‘I won’t. I felt this way before I started drinking. That’s the truth.’

Malakess hesitated before speaking. ‘It would be very easy for me, Gesaril, very easy, but you are young, in turmoil, and under my care. This would be good for neither of us. Now please, say nothing more.’

And so I didn’t. We finished the journey in prickly silence. At Huriel’s gate I got out of the carriage without speaking and didn’t close the door behind me. I wanted Malakess to call me back, but he didn’t. I heard him pull the door closed and then the driver urged the horses onward. I stood there listening until I could no longer hear the sound of their hooves.

This morning, I was so full of cringing shame I could barely move. I decided the best option was to stay in bed. I had virtually begged Malakess, one of the highest ranking hara in Kyme, to take aruna with me. How could I bear to continue living? It was too embarrassing to endure. I was used to every har I met desiring me, but Malakess had turned me down. My self-loathing was augmented by the fact I’d drunk so much the night before the effects were still in my body, which was unusual.

Huriel brought me breakfast and, towering over my bed, inspected my pathetic state. ‘A harish hangover,’ he said. ‘That’s novel, Gesaril.’

‘Leave me alone,’ I said and pulled the covers over my head.

‘Can’t,’ Huriel said. ‘Malakess has sent a note. You’re to join him for lunch with the Gelaming, or rather we are. I’m coming with you.’ My heart leapt at the news, but from what emotion it was difficult to tell.

I put my head out of the bed. ‘Kess has invited a Gelaming to stay here.’

‘I’ve already heard,’ Huriel said darkly. ‘Chrysm Luel. He’ll report back on us.’

I sat up and picked up a piece of toast from the tray Huriel had laid on the bed. ‘I was awful last night,’ I said. ‘I’m surprised Malakess wants to see me again.’

Huriel’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Why? What did you do? He didn’t mention anything when he called round earlier.’

He’d been here? I tried to swallow the toast in my mouth and had to drink some tea to accomplish the task. ‘It’s your fault,’ I said.

‘Mine? How? What on earth happened?’

‘I threw myself at your mentor and he declined the offer. I was drunk, of course.’

‘Oh…’ Huriel pulled a face. ‘Oh well, no harm done. I’m glad to hear your libido has woken up.’

‘No harm done?’ I asked exasperatedly. ‘Really, Huriel. He must think me such a fool. He turned me down!’

‘He is aware of your history,’ Huriel said. ‘He wouldn’t take advantage. He probably thinks you should… get back into yourself, as it were, with somehar nearer your own age.’

‘Do you think that? Before, you implied I should take aruna with Malakess, that it would do me good.’

‘I don’t think it would be a bad thing,’ Huriel said, ‘but I’m not Malakess. I don’t know his reasons for declining your offer, but I’m sure he refused you because he thought it was best for you.’ He smiled. ‘Only weeks ago you were protesting how much it offended you he might desire you.’

‘I’m aware of the irony,’ I said. ‘I don’t know if I can face him today.’

‘Of course you can. This invitation is clearly extended to show you all is well.’

‘I suppose so.’

Huriel put his head to one side. ‘Do you feel for Malakess, Gesaril? This isn’t an Ysobi replacement thing, is it?’

‘I don’t feel for him, no… not like that. It was physical, that’s all.’

‘Well, it has been a long time since you last took aruna. You must remedy that as soon as possible.’

‘Is that an offer?’

Huriel laughed. ‘It seems you are in heat! It wasn’t an offer, no. I’m not the har you want, and you know it. Get dressed. We’re going out in an hour.’

I dressed myself in another of the expensive costumes Huriel had bought for me and pinned up my hair, allowing a few tendrils to dangle over my face. All the while I got ready, I kept myself in check. I could remember the excitement I’d felt getting ready to go to places where I’d known Ysobi would be. I couldn’t fall into the same trap here. I mustn’t look upon Malakess as a huge challenge just because he’d spurned me. It would be so easy to do that, and it would end badly. Huriel was right. I must find somehar else, maybe even a Gelaming. But then, it might all go wrong, because of what I’m like. I’m not good with aruna. I realise now that I enjoy the chase and making hara want me, but then it’s all too much and I’m scared of pain and bad memories, and I resent the hara for wanting me. It’s been such a relief not to feel any of that since I’ve been in Kyme. Damn harish needs! All because of a glance across a room. Ridiculous.

We took lunch in the hotel in town where the Gelaming were staying. It was, in fact, an elegant establishment and surely as good as anything in Immanion. Chrysm and his companions were dressed casually and looked much better for it, in my opinion. Malakess was already there with them when Huriel and I arrived. He greeted me as if nothing had happened the night before, and behaved towards me in a manner that suggested he was an unofficial hura to me. It did no good. All I could think about was touching his body, and even the acts of eating and drinking were charged with a sensual current.

‘So when are you going to invite me to dinner with the Nagini?’ Chrysm asked.

Malakess laughed. ‘You presume I can do that? They go their own way. It’s up to them.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Chrysm chided. ‘They like you. You could be our advocate and impress upon the Nagini we are not the evil they fear. I’ll make no secret of the fact it would be extremely good for me if I could go home with the Nagini under my belt. They should join the confederation of tribes.’

‘They would say they have no need of it,’ Malakess said. ‘I can’t put that kind of pressure on them, Chrysm. It’s up to you to seduce them.’

Chrysm pulled a wry face. ‘Perhaps that is the only route. Literally.’ He regarded Malakess steadily. ‘You want things from me, Kess. Maybe I’m prepared to trade for them.’

Malakess rested his elbows on the table, his chin upon his bunched hands. ‘I see. Now we get to the main course!’

Chrysm was unabashed. He made a languid gesture with one hand. ‘There’s no point in dissembling. You want our students and our endorsement. I have persuasive power in the Hegemony. Many of them are unconcerned with the Arts and consider it of minor consequence. I usually get my own way, simply because nohar else is interested in my aims.’

I was surprised Chrysm spoke so openly in front of Huriel and me, even if his fellow Gelaming were already aware of this situation. Chrysm considered us of minor consequence too, it seemed. I caught Huriel’s eye and he raised his eyebrows, took a drink of wine. I sensed his frosty disapproval. It was insulting to imply the Sulh could be bought.

‘I will arrange a dinner,’ Malakess said at last. ‘The rest is up to you.’

Huriel sighed, shook his head once, almost imperceptibly, and reached for the wine bottle. Chrysm ignored him, if he’d noticed the gesture, and I have no doubt that he had. ‘Excellent, Kess!’ He nodded towards me. ‘Make it an intimate affair. Bring your beautiful protégé. I noticed tiahaar Haruah took a shine to him.’

That was beyond propriety, but Malakess did not react badly. ‘Gesaril, what do you think of that?’

‘I can dance on my hind legs and balance a ball on my nose,’ I said. I couldn’t resist it.

Chrysm laughed. ‘That’s the spirit!’ he said. He raised his glass. ‘To mutual success and satisfaction.’

For all his brashness and sometimes inappropriate directness, Chrysm Luel does have a certain appealing manner. He makes you feel included, somehow, part of something important. I don’t think Huriel felt that at all, but then Chrysm paid him little attention and clearly considered him of little use other than providing accommodation that might bring him nearer to the Nagini. Chrysm’s personal staff would bring his luggage over to Huriel’s house tomorrow. The Gelaming were being entertained by the phylarch, Poltenemy that evening.

Once business was concluded, as far as Chrysm was concerned, the conversation turned to idle chat. Chrysm made us laugh a lot. He was quite rude about some of other Hegemons, mimicking their speech and actions. His coterie of artists and writers clearly delighted in this and sucked up to him appallingly.

As the hotel staff cleared away the remains of our meal, Chrysm turned to me. ‘It would please me greatly if you’d show me around Kyme this afternoon,’ he said.

I knew immediately he had other things on his mind as well, and wasn’t sure what to say. Should I accept? There was a huge obstacle I had to jump over in my head and this might be the helping hand I needed. ‘Well…’ I began.

‘I’m sorry, I must deprive you,’ Malakess interrupted. ‘Gesaril has work to do today.’

‘What about my sketches?’ Sabarah demanded. Everyhar ignored him.

‘Oh, have a heart, my friend,’ Chrysm said. ‘Give the har a day off.’

Malakess maintained his sweetness. ‘I wish I could, but you do want us to make arrangements with the Nagini for you, don’t you?’

‘You know I do,’ Chrysm said. He sighed and smiled at me. ‘A pity. Oh well, another time. I expect to remain in Kyme for some days.’ He stood up and bowed to Malakess. ‘Send me word when the arrangements are confirmed. Will it be tonight?’

‘I think perhaps tomorrow at the earliest,’ Malakess said. ‘Give me some time.’

‘As you wish.’ Chrysm turned to Huriel. ‘My staff will bring my effects to your house in the morning. I’ll be arriving myself around lunch time. Thank you for your offer. I always feel more at ease in private houses.’

‘My pleasure,’ Huriel said tightly.

Chrysm jerked his head to his sycophantic group and they trailed out of the dining room after him.

‘Pompous, conceited ass!’ Huriel declared. ‘Really, Kess, I don’t know how you can stand pandering to him.’

‘I can endure it if it provides a result,’ Malakess said. ‘Don’t let it get to you, Huriel.’

‘Suggesting you give Gesaril to the Nagini, though… that was outrageous, and an insult to both Sulh and Nagini, not to mention a tremendous slur upon Gesaril himself.’

‘It’s all right,’ I said, laying a hand on Huriel’s arm; the flesh and bones were tense beneath my fingers. ‘I don’t mind. I’ll do what’s necessary to help.’

‘Not that, you won’t!’ Huriel said. ‘Don’t go near Chrysm Luel, Gesaril. He’ll eat you up and spit out the bones.’

‘Is that an order, father?’ I said sweetly.

‘Yes,’ Huriel said. ‘It’s an order, son.’

I glanced at Malakess. What did he think?

‘Huriel’s right,’ Malakess said.

‘What do you want me to do this afternoon?’ I asked him.

‘Nothing. I made that up to excuse you from his company.’

‘Oh.’

Malakess turned to Huriel. ‘I thought I’d bring Haruah and a couple of his hara to your place tonight. Is that all right?’

‘Perfectly,’ Huriel said. ‘We’ll go back at once and inform Rayzie and Ystayne. Do the Nagini have any special dietary requirements?’

‘I don’t know,’ Malakess said. ‘But I’ll go to the Academy and find out. They’re staying there. One of their hara can come over to you.’

‘Excellent. He and my staff can go shopping.’ Huriel got to his feet. ‘Come along, Gesaril.’ He was getting more like a father or hostling at every passing moment.

‘See you later,’ Malakess said. And that was that. No mention of the previous evening, not a flicker of interest.

Despite what had been said, or not said, at lunch, Sabarah turned up at Huriel’s house late this afternoon. Everyhar was busy with preparations for dinner, so I took the Gelaming out into the garden. Here, I sat beneath an apple tree while he made dozens of quick sketches. There were no lascivious undercurrents in Sabarah’s behaviour. He really did just want to paint me. He frowned as he worked, his arm moving quickly as he made bold sweeping strokes with his charcoal. I asked him an inane question at one point and he simply uttered: ‘sssh!’ He liked to work in silence, it appeared. Eventually, he paused to smoke a cigarette and let me look at his drawings.

I was quite shocked by what I saw. I looked winsome, and very young. He had captured pain within my eyes, pain that I thought I hid well. It was discomforting that Sabarah had seen so much in me. ‘They are wonderful pictures,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure if I look like that, though. Can I keep one of them?’

‘If you like,’ Sabarah said. He grinned. ‘Just one of those sketches would sell for quite a lot in Immanion.’

‘Thanks! I’ll get it framed, if I can, and hang it in my room.’

‘I’d like to do a series of pictures,’ Sabarah said. ‘I can see you in a number of settings and moods. It would make a good show for the spring.’

‘I’m really not sure I could come to Immanion, though,’ I said. ‘And you couldn’t keep coming here, surely?’

Sabarah tapped ash from the end of his cigarette. ‘You don’t know about sedim, do you?’

I shook my head. ‘No, what is it?’

“Not it, they,’ Sabarah replied. ‘They are a form of transport that can cross into the ethers and carry you long distances in a short space of time. That is how we travel. It is also through them that we are able to excel at trade and other things.’

‘That’s amazing,’ I said. ‘I’d like to try it.’

Sabarah shrugged. ‘Well, perhaps we can arrange it. It’s clear your guardians are very protective of you, and so they should be. You’d perhaps need a chaperone.’

It’s astounding how your first impressions of a har can change so much. Sabarah was not half as pompous or presumptuous as I’d thought. He seemed quite down to earth now, in fact. Sabarah mistook my silence for something other than reflective thought. He smiled rather sadly. ‘I know we Gelaming are not regarded in the best of lights abroad, and sometimes hara like Chrysm do little to dispel the bad reputation. Some question whether it is right to let him represent our tribe. Chrysm is fairly young by Hegemony standards, second generation like you.’

That was another revelation. ‘It seemed to me at lunch you all adore him,’ I said, wondering at once whether that was a wise thing to say.

Sabarah didn’t take offence, however. He smiled. ‘Well, let’s just say it’s in our interests to keep him sweet. He’s responsible for all the major shows in Immanion and his patronage can make the difference between poverty and affluence. He’s not a bad har, but does tend to put his foot in it. He’s not that adept at reading other hara, I’m afraid. But then again…’ Sabarah smiled grimly. ‘Perhaps he is all too adept.’

‘Hmm, I wonder whether he should be let loose on the Nagini, then.’

Sabarah nodded. ‘I’ve wondered the same. Still, it won’t affect me, one way or the other.’ He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Shall we continue?’

By the end of the sitting, I felt that I’d begun to make a new friend. Sabarah told me he’d like to make more sketches, in different settings, and would begin work on the paintings once he returned to Immanion. I agreed to meet him at his hotel the following day. We could go to any number of locations around the town and the surrounding countryside.

Now, Sabarah has left and I’ve only got half an hour or so to get ready. Time for another new set of clothes. I could get used to this.

 

Lunilsday, Ardourmoon 23

 

I had wondered whether Haruah would bring his son with him, but perhaps he didn’t want to force his prophecy. He came with two friends instead, both of whom knew enough Albish to be able to converse fairly easily with us. It might be that younger Nagini were sequestered away from adult company, with all its risks and perils. I knew nothing of their tribal customs. We gathered in Huriel’s sitting room for aperitifs and here Haruah drew me aside to give me a gift. ‘I’m pleased to see you here,’ he said. ‘This is for you.’

It was an article wrapped in red silk and tied with a gold ribbon. I unwrapped it carefully and found within a wooden carving of a strange creature that appeared to be a beautiful har who was half serpent. From the waist down he sat upon thick, reptilian coils. ‘Who is it?’ I asked.

‘That is Nagarana,’ Haruah said. ‘He is the dehar of Nagini. Keep him by you and he will listen to your prayers. Nagarana knows no tribal boundaries. One day, he will sit beside Aruhani and his brothers in the greatest fanes in the world.’

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘It’s a wonderful gift.’

Haruah smiled widely. ‘Nagarana is similar to Aruhani in many ways, being a dehar of aruna, birth and death, among other attributes. Talk to him, my friend.’

I looked into Haruah’s eyes. Like Sabarah, clearly he saw all too much of me. I wasn’t very clever at hiding my inner self, it seemed. Still, self centred contemplations must be put aside for tonight. It hadn’t escaped me that Haruah saw Nagarana as a deity for all hara. That didn’t speak of reclusiveness to me, and I certainly didn’t pick up the slightest impression that the Nagini hid a desire for world domination in a military sense. Perhaps I was too young and naïve to talk of political things, but I felt comfortable with Haruah, so spoke my mind. ‘The Gelaming are impatient to talk to you. I expect you know that.’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Perhaps you should ask Chrysm to build a temple to Nagarana in Immanion. He is desperate to please you.’

Haruah laughed. ‘The temples to Nagarana will be built by ordinary hara, not Hegemons, but your suggestion is amusing.’

There was a comfortable silence for some moments as I examined the little carving, then Haruah reached out and stroked my face. ‘Ah, poor Gesaril. You were denied last night, were you not?’

I couldn’t help but blush. ‘Hmm. I lack the sophisticated wiles of older hara, I think. I give up, to be honest. I will become a hermit.’

‘I should take you home with me, then. The lands to the north of our territory are the domain of monks, who live in high, dangerous, inaccessible places. They are hara created from an ancient strain of humanity.’

‘What is the name of your country?’ I asked.

‘Veranaka,’ he replied. ‘Well, some hara call it by different names. It is a vast land, with a great many tribes.’

I sighed. ‘I feel so… uninformed. My whole world consisted of the tiny territory of Lyonis for so long, and yet really the world is vast. I only know of the tribes of Almagabra and Megalithica.’

‘That’s only natural,’ Haruah said. ‘During the Changing Times, communication broke down completely between different countries. We all underwent our own traumatic changes. Perhaps now is the time for communication to be rekindled, as long as all concerned respect other cultures.’

‘You fear the Gelaming are like humans, don’t you?’ I said. ‘They want everyhar to be Gelaming.’

‘That, unfortunately, is the impression they give,’ Haruah agreed. ‘But Almagabra is small in comparison to the eastern lands. We’ve kept ourselves to ourselves for many years. Some of us are now interested in looking outwards. We are all privileged to be what we are, united by the common destiny that we were bequeathed by the world. The Nagini believe it is not beyond Wraeththu to embrace each other as brothers, wherever they might live or whatever they might believe.’

‘Do all hara in your country feel that way?’ I asked.

Haruah pulled a rueful face. ‘No, not all.’ He smiled. ‘Now is not the time for such talk. We are here to make friends and to enjoy ourselves. Perhaps we should rejoin the company.’

As we turned back to everyhar else, I noticed that Malakess was watching me speculatively.

Ystayne and Rayzie had excelled themselves in the kitchen, aided by one of Haruah’s staff, a har who could not speak Albish but who nevertheless had communicated well enough in mind touch to work easily with Huriel’s staff. The Nagini were curious about our cuisine and wanted to try everything. There was a myriad of things for them to taste, each dish laced fragrantly with local herbs, the meats slathered with berry sauces. The topics of conversation covered over dinner were so vast and so interesting it was like discovering a magical fountain of knowledge. The Nagini had travelled over sea and land to reach us; they did not have transport like the Gelaming. They told us tales of every country they’d visited. So many tribes. So many different kinds of Wraeththu. It unsettled me to realise how little I know of my own kind. Still, I can honestly say I enjoyed the evening far more than the party at the Academy. I was acutely conscious of Malakess’s presence, but it felt good rather than uncomfortable. I felt I was shining. Haruah brought out the best in me. He flattered me subtly, winding his magic into my being. But it was not for his benefit.

The Nagini left before midnight, after which Huriel, Malakess and I went back to the sitting room to sit before the fire and drink some pear liqueur that Rayzie had made last year. I felt mellow and drowsy; our little party had been a great success, not least because Malakess had persuaded Haruah to dine with Chrysm the following evening. Huriel and Malakess discussed the evening’s events, while I stared into the fire, my mind comfortably numb. I must have fallen asleep, because I was brought to full consciousness by Malakess shaking my shoulder. The fire had died down and I held an empty glass in my hand, sticky with liqueur. ‘Wake up,’ Malakess said. ‘Huriel’s gone to bed. So should you… soon.’

I yawned and sat up straight. ‘Why are you still here?’

Malakess hesitated, then said, ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

‘About last night, I suppose.’ I sighed. ‘I apologise.’

‘You don’t have to,’ Malakess said. ‘What is it you want from me, Gesaril? Honestly?’

‘Nothing…’ I shook my head. ‘Well, perhaps it’s obvious. And you think I look on you and see Ysobi. I told you that, once. It’s not very flattering, I know, but it’s not the case now.’

‘I don’t want to make your problems any worse.’

‘Oh, I’m sick of my problems!’

Again, Malakess paused. ‘What are they exactly, anyway? Will you tell me?’

‘Well, apart from a swarm of emotional disaster areas, I have a physical problem with soume.’

‘Physical problem… what do you mean?’

‘I think it’s physical. I’m not sure. Anyway, it hurts me and sometimes causes damage.’

‘You should see a physician.’

‘I think it’s too late for that.’

‘But you’re har. Your body should have repaired itself fully.’

‘Then maybe it’s not a real problem after all. I don’t know. I had pelki committed on me when I was very young. It’s hardly surprising that caused fallout, is it?’

Malakess shook his head. ‘No…’

‘And yet despite this problem, I’ve spent most of my post feybraiha life being what somehar in Jesith called a soume shrew. A predator. And I have been. I don’t deny it. It was the only way I could feel, I think, having hara want me, especially those who were already chesna with somehar else. Then, when I’d got them hooked, it always went wrong, for obvious reasons.’ I looked into Malakess’s eyes. ‘I’ve changed a lot. I understand myself more, but even so, that understanding doesn’t make the problem go away.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Well…’ Actually, I didn’t.

‘I will try with you, Gesaril, if that’s what you still want.’

I stared at him like an idiot for some moments. ‘What?’

‘We must have an understanding,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you being hurt, in an emotional sense.’

This was too much to take in, and totally unexpected. I didn’t know how to react. Was Haruah’s magic so strong? ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Despite that, I reached out and took one of his hands, held on to it as if I was drowning and he was the lifeline to land. Twice I’d felt this way with him. He let me crush his fingers for a short time, which must have hurt, then drew me to him. We shared breath for several minutes, azure skies yawning in my head. It was like flying. I remembered the first time I’d shared breath with Ysobi, how I’d felt I was in a scarlet and black temple, and I was the altar there. By that time, we’d taken aruna together many times.

Malakess drew away from me, kissed my brow. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’

I felt so nervous and tense I could barely walk. This was what I wanted, wasn’t it? Or did I just want the chase again, the longing in a har’s eyes?

I took Malakess to my room. It occurred to me that Huriel had spoken to him about me, and that was why he’d sloped off to bed to leave us alone. Maybe now, he lay awake, listening for sounds. Malakess and I undressed in silence, and all the while I kept getting flashbacks to Jesith. It wasn’t pleasant. I remembered the phylarch’s house, Ysobi coming to me there in the night, when were supposed not to see each other. I could smell the fragrance of his hair.

I sat down on the bed and put my face in my hands. I was not simply haunted, I must be possessed. Malakess came to me, squatted before me and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Gesaril?’

‘I want to forget, but I can’t,’ I said.

‘Maybe you’re not ready yet,’ he said softly.

I rubbed my temples. ‘Maybe not.’

‘Get into bed. It’s okay. Just rest.’

I hadn’t even looked at him yet. Still averting my eyes, I pulled the blankets over me and he climbed in beside me. I lay with my back to him and he curled his arms round me, pulled me close. ‘Just sleep,’ he said.

The song of birds in the creepers outside my window woke me up. It must have been very early in the morning. Malakess slept beside me, lying on his back, his hair spread all over the pillows. I propped myself up on an elbow to study him. It was easy this way, while he slept. He wore an amulet around his neck. I lifted it and the stone was warm from the heat of his body. I ran my hand over his smooth skin and he made a small sound, arched his back a little, but he didn’t wake up. I pulled back the covers and gazed upon him. Who was this har, really? Who had he loved, who had he lost? What went on in his inner life? I hardly knew him. Asleep, he looked vulnerable and young, far from the contained High Codexia I’d first met. At heart, he was har. He had lived through the early days of Wraeththu with all their horrors and triumphs. He had probably killed humans and even other hara. I wondered about his inception, his history. Suddenly, all the experience contained within him made him more beautiful to my eyes. This frame, this perfect form, all that we are. The High Codexia, in essence, did not exist. It was a construct, a mask. What did exist was Malakess, his mind and body, his spirit. In dreams, he too ran over the hills like a deer, and politics and intrigue could not possibly exist. In dreams, he was free. And I could share that.

My hand hovered over his belly. What could possibly be so terrifying about another harish body? His ouana-lim, crude though it seems to say it, was not as large as Ysobi’s and seemed less threatening, less like a weapon. But I still shrank from touching it. I didn’t want it to wake up. Perhaps I should cover him up again before he got cold and woke up himself. But something stopped me. Maybe there were some hurdles I couldn’t leap at the moment, but I could at least take aruna again, on my terms, and with this secret creature, unmasked in sleep.

I leaned over to share breathe with him and sensed his mind rise from slumber. He put his arms around me and returned the sharing. I reached down to caress his soume-lam and he parted his legs for me. My mind must remain focused in the present moment. I was here, now, not in the past. But still, those hated images came back to me: Ysobi writhing beneath my touch, my awe at his beauty, the desire to enter him and the final consummation of that desire. I was just on the brink of pulling away from Malakess completely, a cruel and inconsiderate thing to do, seeing as I’d now thoroughly aroused him, but before I could do so, he took hold of my hand and pulled it away himself. He’d seen into my mind. I thought he might be angry or at least disappointed, but he merely rolled me onto my back and continued to share breath with me. The flavour of it had changed. I pulled away. ‘No…’

‘Hush,’ he said. ‘Trust me, Gesaril. I’ll not have your ghosts on my back as well as yours. Relax and trust me. I’ll not hurt you, I swear it.’

I let myself go limp. I’d believe him and hope that was magic enough to make it real. Nagarana, I prayed, I don’t know you yet, but be with me now…

So many times I thought, Now is the moment, now he’ll touch me, open me up, but each time I was wrong. He concentrated on my skin, stroking gently, and on filling me with his soothing breath. I could feel his ouana-lim hot against me, eager to go about its business, but still he held back. I reached out to take him in my hand, but he took hold of my fingers. He guided us together to my own body, and together we touched gently that shrinking heart of me that feared pain. He did not invade me, but held my hand, directed it. I went into myself, at first passive, and then gradually, as desire was kindled, I caressed the areas inside me that were the most sensitive to touch. Malakess held on to my wrist, his mouth still against my own. The tides of aruna were rising. I was slippery and hungry. Malakess took hold of my arms and lifted them above my head, his fingers laced with mine. Before I realised it, he’d slid inside me, and it didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt at all.

The one thing I’d forgotten about, or possibly had never fully experienced before, was the spiritual nourishment that aruna bestows. When Malakess and I finally went down to breakfast, I couldn’t feel the ground beneath my feet. My body felt made of light and my mind was utterly at peace, so much so, it brought home to me how wound up and anxious I’d been before. After we’d taken aruna, I’d wept for some time, in relief and wonder and sheer release. I felt as if I’d been freed from a curse.

In the dining room, Huriel held himself under considerable restraint and didn’t utter a word, although there was laughter in his eyes. I kept dropping cutlery and knocking things over, as if I’d lost control of my body. Again, Huriel shortly left us alone, as he’d begun his breakfast before we had. I looked upon the har beside me, buttering his toast, and wondered how I felt about him now. What would happen next? Would there be a next time? Nothing had been said aloud. We’d spoken with our bodies, that was all.

‘What have you got planned today?’ Malakess asked me.

‘Nothing,’ I replied. ‘Huriel hasn’t told me to do anything in particular. Oh, I have to meet Sabarah later.’

‘You will of course come to dinner at the hotel tonight?’

‘I will?’

Malakess looked up from his toast and smiled at me. ‘I would like you to.’

‘Yes, then. Yes, I’d like it too.’

He adopted a serious expression. ‘How do you feel now, Gesaril?’

I grinned at him. ‘I feel like a dehar, or that I’ve been possessed by a dehar.’

Malakess shook his head. ‘I’m sure you over-rate my skills.’ In those words hung the ghost of Ysobi again, the skilled Hienama of arunic arts. I didn’t think Malakess had intended it, but that’s what I heard.

‘It depends what you mean by skill,’ I said. ‘I think compassion is worth more than skill.’

Malakess stared at the table for some moments. Then he drew a breath. ‘I have to ask you something. Please speak honestly. Do you regard last night as a one off occasion?’

I stared at him, even though he wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘That depends entirely on how you feel about it.’

He laughed, rather nervously, and then looked at me. ‘I feel good about it. I don’t know where this will lead us, Gesaril. I think we should just see what happens, but I want you to know that I’d like us to remain close. I think… we go well together.’ He groaned and shook his head. ‘Seductive talk is not one of my virtues.’

‘I understand you perfectly,’ I said. ‘I think we want the same thing.’

‘But I’m so much older than you…’

‘Aruna does not recognise age,’ I said. ‘When we were together, it didn’t matter. I didn’t even think about it. You were just a beautiful har, that’s all. I felt comfortable with you, in every sense, and that’s rare for me. I’m not about to let that go.’

He nodded. ‘These things, new bonds, are fragile. We need to take care.’

No second generation har would ever say such a thing, but then we were all young in comparison to hara like Malakess.

I knew already that Malakess was not the kind of har who would appreciate overt gestures of intimacy in public places, nor would he be spontaneous to offer affection. To him, aruna was a private matter, and intimate bonds between hara should not be part of a display. I liked the thought of that. We would be like a secret, but not a shameful one, such as that I’d shared with Ysobi.

Now I have to go and meet Sabarah. What new wonders will tonight bring? I can’t believe how much my life has changed, how different I feel. I have to write something every day. I don’t want to forget any of this.

 

Miyacalasday, Ardourmoon 24

 

Sabarah sensed at once something different about me and must have guessed another har was the cause. He didn’t question me about it, but was pleased I radiated a different kind of energy today, that he would attempt to capture in his sketches. I floated through the day, waiting only for the night. Even the meal with the Gelaming seemed just like a delaying nuisance. I wanted to be close to Malakess again.

The only hara present at the meal was a delegation of five Nagini, Chrysm Luel, Malakess and myself. Chrysm behaved himself quite well in front of the Nagini, and didn’t appear to offend them. He spoke earnestly of how the greatest tribes should co-operate in order to help the weaker tribes who needed support. ‘I know how Gelaming appear to others,’ he said, (as if he’d been coached by Sabarah, to be honest), ‘and that the Hegemony is renowned for its arrogance, but like you the Gelaming have only the welfare of Wraeththu at heart, and the welfare of the world itself.’

It was a credit to Chrysm that he sounded sincere while saying that.

Haruah and his companions listened patiently to everything the Hegemon said. It wasn’t possible to gauge their reaction, because they kept it hidden, but I had no doubt some private dialogue took place between them in mind touch.

‘I think perhaps we could talk about trade,’ Haruah said carefully. ‘There we might find mutual benefit.’ Clearly, the Nagini were going to proceed cautiously and see if the Gelaming could prove themselves.

‘Of course,’ Chrysm said smoothly, ‘although that’s not my realm of expertise. You should speak with the Hegemony Chancellor, Tharmifex Calvel, and of course the Tigrons and Tigrina. It would give me great pleasure to be able to arrange a meeting.’

Haruah nodded. ‘Allow us time to discuss the matter in private,’ he said. ‘But, seeing as we’re already in your part of the world, it would make sense to visit Almagabra once our visit here is concluded.’

I don’t know how Chrysm prevented himself from leaping from his seat with a victorious, air-thumping shout, but he merely inclined his head. ‘It would appear to make sense, yes. I’ll be around here for a while longer too. If you would like to discuss anything with me, I’m at your disposal.’

I sincerely hoped that Malakess would get all he wanted from the Gelaming after this.

Once the formal business was concluded, the conversation became more casual and I was able to speak to Haruah in relative privacy. ‘I see Nagarana has worked on your behalf already,’ Haruah said, grinning widely.

‘He has indeed,’ I replied. ‘Thank you, tiahaar.’

‘Learn from the past,’ the Nagini said, his expression suddenly intense. My skin prickled.

‘I will, tiahaar.’

‘I mean it, Gesaril. Do not repeat mistakes, and do not mistake events, and do not drape the present in the robes of lost days.’

He spoke so fiercely, it was like a warning, as if he could see something in my future. ‘Tiahaar?’ I asked cautiously, hoping he would offer more.

Haruah shook his head, then smiled again. ‘No, the world is light for you now. Enjoy it.’

That night, I again took Malakess to my bed, and felt that I exorcised forever the malevolent ghost of Ysobi. New experiences were imprinted over my bad or painful memories. I saw a different side of Malakess, when he became utterly soume for me. He was almost coquettish, certainly playful, so that I actually felt older than him. A new me was emerging too. I could look back on the past and see myself as something like a larva; I was the dragon fly now with spreading iridescent wings. I dined with Hegemons and phylarchs from powerful tribes. I held my own in conversation and was respected.

As much as I try not to think it, I wish that Ysobi knew about this. I want him to see me now, what I’ve become, so that I can turn my back on him; supposing I could do that.

 

Pelfazzarsday, Ardourmoon 28

 

As if the universe has heard me, this morning I have received some contact from Jesith in the form of a letter from, of all hara, Jassenah. It was a long, friendly letter, which surprised me, full of anecdotes about hara I’d known in the town. He thanked me warmly for the gift I’d sent. I noticed though that he didn’t mention Ysobi. He must have talked about everyhar in Jesith but for Ysobi, in fact. I was tempted to write back at first, but then remembered Haruah’s words and stopped myself doing it. I mustn’t open that door to the past. If a correspondence develops between Jassenah and myself, it could not be good for me. It’s a connection, however tenuous, with Ysobi. If I can’t let Jassenah go, I can’t let Ysobi go. So there it is: I must remain silent and not respond.

But thinking about letters has made me realise I’ve not contacted my parents for some time. Neither have they contacted me, of course. Perhaps they’ve forgotten about me, lost in their dreamy realms. To remind them I exist, I’m going to write a long letter to them now, telling them about the Nagini and the Hegemon and my life in Kyme.

 

There… it’s done. As I was writing it, I considered how harlings are supposed to be close to their parents, but I’ve never been close to mine. They’re not cruel, or even negligent, but I’m not like them and have never been able to share their fairyland world. We don’t connect. I suppose they’ve been cruel and negligent without intending to be. They never recognised my pain, and certainly never helped me deal with it. Perhaps that’s what I should have been writing to them about.