“No,” echoed Sari. “Not exactly.” She bumped shoulders with Lind. “But we’re your family aren’t we – the Uri’madu.”
Lind nodded and smiled, but Andel noticed how gaunt her cheeks had become. Her eyes seemed to fill her face, and she was often quiet now where once she had been brash and outspoken. Something profound had happened, and whatever it was seemed to have occurred at about the same time that Huldar had gone to her rescue.
That night, Andel lay in her tent, unable to sleep. Casco’s laugh came faintly from the marquee where some of the team were celebrating the next day’s move with drinks by the fire – she had made her excuses early, feigning tiredness. Although they were few, and far beyond the realm, time alone was hard to come by.
She took the Kaskarudjan’s book from beneath her pillow and let it fall open. There were words, but it was the illustrations on the page that drew her attention – an indigo sky dotted with silver stars in the shape of a circle. When she looked closer, she could see a pink discoloration on the indigo, remarkably similar to the night sky she had been staring up at only days earlier.
Around the border, lizard-like creatures walked on two legs among swords and chains and two ghostly intertwining snakes, which she thought must be the Kaskaru, the twin spirits that made the Kaskarudjan what she was.
She peered at the writing, but the characters seemed slightly different from the style she was familiar with. The only ones that made sense were the House runes of Maatu, Tiamät, Rukh, and Leth. Then she saw rune of Trianog too, drawn beside Maatu as if they were married. She wished she knew what it meant. Had the Kaskarudjan seen the stars of this planet? Imahtara of Trianog had been strongly gifted. Perhaps she had seen these stars in a vision? If so, it must have been important or memorable for her to have drawn this picture and included it in her book.
She wished there was some way she could find out, but Imahtara had died soon after Andel was born. Her Kaskaru had passed to the current Kaskarudjan, Kariiel Enna, who was wife to Shamkarun Daniel Naghar, the Naghari House Leader.
What would it be like, she wondered, to have synergetic spirits living in your body, at your beck and call. Did they have conversations? Did they have their own desires? She studied the drawing again, marveling at the fine detail. It probably wasn’t these stars, and the mark in the sky was most likely just a smudge. Perhaps Huldar would know more … if she was brave enough to ask.
CONTACT
Life on the Northern Shelf was bleak, but since contact with the outer Realm was possible at last, the climate no longer mattered. After her session with the Hermes, Andel left the campsite and wandered, drawn as if by gravity to the icy seashore. She pushed aside the fur of her hood and peered along a grey shingle beach cut short by a shallow headland – the most barren place she had ever seen. Unenthusiastic waves surged beneath a carpet of ice. They sloshed against the stones then snatched at pebbles and spindly fragments of driftwood while hissing a sullen retreat. She crossed her arms for warmth. The only other sound was the lonely moan of the wind. There was no life – no fliers in the skies, no insects, no plants, no shellfish – just rock and shale, snow and ice. No predators and no prey except for the fearsome cold and the Uri’madu.
She almost regretted taking the opportunity to speak through the Hermes. Normally the isolation didn’t worry her; she even enjoyed it. But at this moment she missed her family fiercely.
Her father had been utterly enthralled by her descriptions of the planet and the challenges they faced. He loved her renditions of Huldar’s Lethian accent, her images of the sky-step portal, and had nothing but praise for her actions in saving her teammates from the volcano. But when she had tried to describe their current location, a great sadness had welled up inside her. She had no idea where it had come from or what it meant.
The pebbles behind her clacked as Huldar made his way across the shore. His approach felt warm, like the sun on her back. She turned slightly. “I like this place. It’s free and wild, but it makes me sad.”
“Sad?” said Huldar.
“I don’t know why.” As usual, her heart beat more strongly when he was close. She peered out to sea, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“I had a lovely conversation with my father,” she continued. “He is on Ekeridu. The Lord of Maatu has built a new library,” she explained, “and Father found some rare texts he thought they might be interested in. Shamkarun Manu Maatu asked to meet him personally and show him around the new structure. Quite an honor!”
“An honor indeed.”
“Apparently, Shamkarun Manu designed the building himself, supervised the Zaīkhanun, and even joined in the actual work of shaping the stone.”
“Remarkable – although Maatu can be like that, always interested in everything.”
She waited for him to continue, but although the air sizzled between them he said no more.
“The First of Maatu is a navigator, did you know?” She glanced at the sky, wondering what it was like to sing your way through the stars.
Huldar nodded.
“He’s supposed to be one of the best,” she said. “And very handsome. Tall, like you … and quite mysterious.”
“Ahh, but can he tell stories?”
Andel grinned. “Well, he is a navigator, and the whole of the known is open to him. He must have seen a thing or two! Maybe he’ll come for us instead of Kandät Enna?”
“I don’t think so,” Huldar said quickly. “A great lord like that? Probably far too busy.”
“Oh, what a shame,” she teased. “I was looking forward to meeting him. The famous Shamkarun Anu, First of Maatu!”
Huldar snorted. For a while they stood in silence. Andel enjoyed having Huldar’s company to herself but concern for Lind churned in the pit of her stomach. Eventually he looked at her, his sky-blue eyes enquiring.
“It’s Lind,” she admitted. “What happened to her? She looks terrible.”
“I …” Huldar started, but he looked away and did not go on.
“Something happened when you went to rescue her, didn’t it?” Andel prompted. “Was she more badly hurt than she told us? It would be like her to pretend – to make an injury seem less important than it was.”
Hurt … he repeated. The wave of sorrow that washed over his veil was seasoned with a touch of embarrassment. “It was a little more complicated than that.”
“Complicated?”
“She staged the rescue,” he admitted. Please don’t tell anyone!
I won’t.
He rubbed his hands down his face. She wanted me to rescue her, so she could tell me … but I don’t. We are friends, but I don’t think of her in that way.
Andel’s brow lowered as she imagined the scene: Huldar sympathetic but firm; Lind’s humiliation. No wonder she was troubled.
She took it badly? she said, but it was more of a statement than a question.
He nodded. I’m sorry for her – her disappointment, but it’s not right to lie about such things.
And ultimately impossible, she finished for him. They stood together, staring at the sluggish waters as sadness washed between them. There was an odd scene she’d witnessed back in camp between Lind and Duvät Gok. She’d meant to tell him about it but it didn’t seem right to bring it up now.
As if from a great distance, words came to her mind. “… Love unanswered is merely the shadow of longing.”
Longing? he asked. “Longing for what?”
“For truth? I’m not sure. The words just came to me.” She didn’t know what it meant, or even why she’d said it.
He looked away.
“The truth is, Tsemkarun Andel …” she heard him say. This time, when he turned to her, he held her gaze. The blue of his eyes was a revelation every time. Andel’s senses tingled. Her heart beat against her ribs, waiting for him to complete the sentence; to say – whatever it was he was going to say.
“Ahh, there you are!”
They turned to the crunch of footsteps and Arko’s ja
unty wave.
Huldar’s sigh was slight. She sensed a leaden plunge in his mood before he firmed his veil to stoic perfection. He muttered words beneath his breath. It sounded like, “Not again!” but they were faint and she couldn’t be sure.
“’Scuse me, Lady Andel,” Arko said. “I need Huldar, just for a moment!”
“No problem.” She smiled brightly. “I have samples to label, a report to finish. I’ll see you both at the evening meal.”
Huldar’s answering nod was polite. She walked as if by reflex toward the campsite. Her senses strained, hoping for verification of what she thought she had felt, but all she could hear was the murmur of the waves and the cold sigh of the wind.
As she neared the campsite, Sari waved her over. “How was it? Did you talk to your parents? Were they pleased to hear from you? They must have been excited.”
“Father more than Mother,” Andel said. “He was so interested in what we are doing, he wanted to hear everything, sometimes twice.”
“Twice sometimes? Yes.” Sari’s smile beamed from somewhere deep in her soul. “I spoke to my sister and all three of her children, Samiel, Ginnic and Rathar, all full of Samiel’s sword ceremony. It’s only four months until his six-hundredth; where does the time go? They’re planning a big party afterward – and maybe a little something when I get back, like I told you, just so I don’t feel left out. Isn’t that lovely?”
“Wonderful!” She returned Sari’s smile. “Your sister is thoughtful, just like you. Do Lethians get an actual sword for their coming-of-age? I have always thought of you as a peace-loving people.”
“A peace-loving people? Well, most of the time,” she answered. “Sometimes there is an actual sword, for archangels and the like, but we don’t actually use a real sword, not our family. But the meaning’s the same: you know, cutting away the old, childish life and accepting the responsibilities of adulthood. The sword of the mind …” she nudged Andel with her elbow “… the sword of the body …”
“Yes.” Andel laughed. “There’s that, too! I still remember my father’s words … ‘Through stone, air, fire and water a pure path is forged to the divine.’”
“To the divine? That’s so beautiful!” Sari said. “What do you think it means?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Andel replied. “But Father says that swords are passion and reason tied together, and it is up to the wielder to discover the balance.”
“That is a fine saying, Lady Andel,” Gento said. “Very wise.”
“Gento! You were listening?” In the bustle about the marquee she had not sensed his arrival.
“Talk of swords draws the ear – it’s a Rukh thing,” he said. “And we have a saying also.”
“A Rukhish saying? Please tell us,” said Sari. She turned as Casco joined them. “Oh, Casco! Gento was just about to tell us something Rukhish.”
Casco looked at him inquiringly.
Gento held out his hands as if a blade balanced across them. “To hold a sword is acceptance of death.”
“Acceptance of death?” Sari frowned. “I like Lady Andel’s saying better.”
“Even so, these are words we Rukh hold close to our hearts.” He paused. “But if it displeases you, perhaps you would like another?”
“They have dozens of them,” said Casco dryly. “We could be here for a while.”
“Just this one, then.” Gento composed himself again. “The body is transient. Only honor and love fly on the wings of El.” He bowed to Andel. “I fear this may be your influence, lady diviner. We have all become philosophers!”
“Enough of swords,” Casco said. “Tam needs talemgal for tonight’s meal, and some of the seaweed we collected down south.”
Gento grinned. “Let’s go then. Anything to make our plate more interesting!”
After they moved on, Andel took Sari aside.
“There is something I saw, Sari,” she said. “It was strange.”
“Something you saw? Tell me.”
“When I had finished with the Hermes, I came out of the tent. Duvät Gok was first to speak.”
“Yes,” said Sari. “We waited for ages!”
“Well, when I came out I was surprised to see him still there. He was watching Lind.”
“Watching Lind?”
“Yes. But it was the way he was watching her … it made her uncomfortable – and me too. When she looked at him, it was as if she was afraid. Then, she went to him. He squinted … you know that look … when he’s concentrating? She moved closer, almost haze to haze. Like they were lovers. It was very odd. What do you think?”
“Odd? Yes, indeed. I’ve never known Lind to be afraid, or to let Duvät Gok that close to her. Perhaps there’s a report she hasn’t done? You know how he is about those reports.”
“Maybe,” Andel said. “It could have been something like that.” She could ask Lind herself, but after Huldar had shared about the rescue she’d staged, it would be hard for her not to betray his confidence. She decided to wait and see if any more strange moments occurred.
“The wind’s getting stronger,” Sari said. “Perhaps we should go in where it’s warm.”
Andel followed her into the marquee. The others were sitting by the fire discussing their brief contact with civilization. At the rear of the tent, Lind stood by herself, staring at the flames. Andel picked up two honey-cakes and went to join her.
“I thought you might like one?”
“No, thanks,” Lind said.
“Talk to anyone?” Andel ventured.
Lind sighed and shook her head. “I have a friend on Hesh, but she’s moved and the Hermes couldn’t find her. So many people coming and going all the time. Hesh is a busy place.”
Andel smiled. “I went to Hesh once. The markets? I’d never seen so many people all together at once, from all ten Houses, all with something to buy or sell. It was amazing. Is that where you live, when you’re not on assignment?”
“Sometimes.” Lind shrugged. “But it’s difficult. No point in owning a place when you’re never there – or anything really. I have my clothes, my boots … a few books, and that’s it. That’s my home.”
“All by yourself on such a flamboyant world?” Andel looked at her slim shoulders. “Sounds lonely.”
Lind looked at her with strange intensity. “You don’t know what lonely is.” She turned toward the clink of mugs. “Hey, Casco! Pour one for me!”
DUVÄT Gok
Warmth bathed Duvät Gok’s face as he stepped from the Northern Shelf back to the Eastern Foothills. Almost immediately, sweat began to bead his brow. He shrugged out of his cumbersome fur jacket and cloak as he walked, and a few minutes after entering his tent, the rest of his clothes lay strewn across the bed as well. He opened the eastern quarter up to the breeze and the view. When papers blew from his desk he didn’t race to pick them up. No one would come here. His privacy was complete, especially since Huldar was busy with relocating the Uri’madu – and the other dozen or so meaningless tasks he’d cleverly set.
But several issues clouded his satisfaction, not least the discovery that Andel of Trianog had a beacon charm. He unfolded his grandfather’s map on the desk and moved his blunt fingertips to where the beacon was marked. Sure enough, his memory and the vibrations on the map matched.
How had she found it? He had searched the area several times. It was close to where Huldar had made camp. Had she visited him and found the marker, or was it just a very similar charm? He shook his head. The style of the song was quite old and no longer widely used. He touched the map again. Had it been a mistake after all to include a Trianogi in Huldar’s team? Had someone told her where to find the charm, or had Huldar found it and given it to her for some reason – and if so, why hadn’t he mentioned it and how much did they know? Had Lind somehow managed to overcome the block he’d implanted in her brain? He thought it unlikely.
Occasional swarms still beached on the inner shores, always in the same locality. He tried to be there to greet e
ach and every one, but that level of watchfulness was difficult to maintain.
He lurched from his chair and paced to the open side of the tent. There were too many uncertainties. Cool air caressed his thighs with gentle fingers, a reminder that Lind would come to him that night.
With brusque movements he returned to his bedside and pulled on a robe, then sat down to think on another matter – the wholly unsatisfactory interchange with his superiors at the Imperial Explorers’ Guild. He had expected to speak to the Faythans first and bargain some concessions from them with the information about the nacrite, but the Guild must have been waiting as the Hermes made contact.
“Good news, Duvät Gok,” they had said. “Your planet has been claimed for House Tiamät.” Perhaps they thought he would be proud.
“How delightful!” he’d replied. Now he was even more determined that no one should mention the nacrite. He might be able to use to use the knowledge of their find to his advantage before his presentation to the high and mighty of the Explorers’ Guild.
His neck prickled. Paper rustled. A lump formed in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten to put away the map. Someone could be far-viewing it, or worse still, a Ziquarudjan could be here in spirit! He had no way of knowing, no screens set, nothing to protect him from their scrutiny. After months of freedom, he’d forgotten the need for such measures!
With artfully casual movements, he returned to the desk and restored the map to Qalān. At least the bags of eyes were there already and secure. He imagined the furor if they were revealed prematurely. They would be claimed by the God-Emperor and he would have nothing for the Faythans. It would be a disaster.
The Eyes of Bel Nishani are mine by right! I braved the sea-worms! They are the future, and, one day, this whole planet could be mine!
“But would I want to live here?” he murmured to himself. “No … I’d recruit mercenaries to harvest the riches for me. Let them endure the cold and the isolation.” He smiled as another delicious thought entered his head: “They’d think I was going to pay them, but would I?” Communication from this planet is limited; everything done here is utterly private, completely beyond censure …
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