He was not particularly handsome to Hazel’s way of thinking. His coloring was normal, with dark hair and grayish eyes, but his mouth was too wide, his eyes too far apart. His nose was too flat, and when he looked the three girls up and down, she thought she saw his nostrils twitch in an inhuman manner.
Like all the strange beings in the hub world, he was a variation on a theme. Most of the inhuman beings, the otherkind, seemed to be modifications on the human pattern. Most operated with a good imitation of human appearance, but with some variation unique to them. Yukiko looked totally human, as did Santiago, but both could change into canines. A few beings, like the Seelie, might be more beautiful or strange than an ordinary human, but they were known for this. Even her monkey crew, as purely animal in appearance as they were, spoke in human tongues.
“Come inside,” Yelbeghen said, frowning.
He led them into the house, floored with dark Spanish tile and decorated with pieces of artwork ranging from a set of ancient orange and black Greek vases to a large modern sculpture made of jagged pieces of colored metal that rotated on glittering stems.
“I have prepared a room for you,” he said to the three girls and gave them directions to it. They climbed the stairs, with Briar glancing back at Hazel and Astrid before following her sisters.
He turned and looked at each of them in turn, from Astrid to Hazel and back again, his face expressionless. Hazel felt a stab of fear for an instant when he looked into her face, perhaps an ancient reflex at being in the presence of a predator. She thought of the pistol at her hip, of the man’s size relative to her own, of the likelihood that Astrid could do some creative Door-making to get them out if necessary.
“You are the Door?” he asked.
“I am,” said Astrid.
“And you? What are you?” he asked Hazel.
“I’m Captain Hazel Dubois.”
“A human then.”
He turned away, uninterested, and studied Astrid. Hazel was horrified when she noticed that Astrid was looking at him as if he was an ordinary person, not a monster in human skin. She looked almost comfortable in his presence.
“You may stay a few days, if you like,” he said to Astrid, and Hazel wondered if she was included in the invitation. She had no desire to stay. “I have never met a Door before.”
And there it was. That was why he liked Astrid. She was an uncommon type of being, and as a drake, he couldn’t resist a rare thing. Well, Hazel wasn’t too common either. She was a woman from another world. She wasn’t the only person from her home world here in the hub world. The Professor came from that time and place also, though she’d die before betraying him to the drake. But let Yelbeghen think she was a simple human. The last thing she wanted was any extra attention from the creature.
He invited them to a sitting room where an older man placed a tea set on the table between them. Yelbeghen poured and offered them each a cup.
“A luncheon is being prepared,” he said. “But why don’t you tell me about your trip.”
“The glass globe broke,” said Astrid.
“I can see that the glass globe broke,” he said, his tone changing from genteel to hard. “It was supposed to be carefully transported.”
“And it was. It’s just that there was a storm—” said Astrid.
“I broke it,” said Hazel. “I saw that there were people inside, and I broke it.”
He turned his inhuman eyes on her and her blood ran cold. She didn’t look away, but sat up straighter. If he was trying to intimidate her, he would not succeed.
“I have no truck with the buying and trading of human beings,” she said.
“So you decided to destroy something that wasn’t yours.”
“That’s right. Those girls aren’t yours either. I brought them here, but one word from them and I’ll take them with me again.”
“On your ship.”
“Well it won’t be on my broomstick.”
He smiled then, revealing ordinary human teeth. His eyes sparkled with cold merriment.
“I don’t like you, little freckled woman,” he said “but I might find some respect for you.”
“I’m delighted.”
“You don’t like me either,” he said.
“No, I don’t. Because I know your kind. Wealthy with power over others. You can harm or help, and you use the power for personal gain to the detriment of others.”
“Is that so?”
“How can it be otherwise? You helped the Seelie on the girls’ home island, but demanded payment in people. You could help for free. You don’t seem to lack for anything.”
“I lack all sorts of things. Many things.”
“Like triplets for slaves?”
“Not slaves. They will not serve me. They are guests,” he said.
“Guests who can’t leave.”
“They came willingly. I did not notice them trying to run away.”
“Because they’d be dishonored if they returned home,” said Hazel. “You’d go attack the Seelie or something. Fly through the air and burn their cities to the ground.”
“I have no interest in that. And you read too many stories.”
“Pardon me, but I think I need some fresh air,” she said and rose. She was furious at her inability to do anything about the girls. If they didn’t want to be freed, it was only because they didn’t understand their situation and were ruled by fear. But without their consent to leave, she couldn’t force them off the island. Astrid was just as constrained as she was, perhaps even more so because of her indebtedness to the Seelie.
“Wait a moment, if you please. Tell me why you came,” said Yelbeghen. “Astrid had a delivery to make to me. Did you come merely to tell me that I’m a terrible human being?”
“You’re not a human being at all.”
“And now you understand.”
Chapter 35
After lunch, Astrid stood in the marble-floored hallway outside the closed pair of tall doors as Yelbeghen spoke with the triplets alone. She tried again and again to get the picture of the mirror in her sketch book to allow her to contact Elliot, but it never worked again. Perhaps, once again, the Library had come closer to her time and place and allowed the message to travel. Or maybe the fluke had been with her, and her ability to recreate it was gone. She slapped the sketch book closed and shoved it into her bag.
Hazel had gone off in a huff, disgusted with the whole business with the triplets. Astrid understood her frustration, but she wasn’t quite as single-minded on the issue. Sure, forcing the girls to come was wrong. But they hadn’t truly been forced. They had been asked and convinced. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but as Astrid studied the drake’s home, she saw that they’d live a life of comfort and luxury. She had seen the world of the Seelie, and Hazel had not. The place was beautiful, sure, but the royal court made life a misery for many. The entire species was rigidly hierarchical, and the court brooked no deviation from its orders. She wouldn’t live there for anything. Escaping from such a place and living on a lovely island wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.
She would have to speak with the girls later to see if they still wanted to stay. She thought she knew the answer already. Unless the drake was terribly cruel, they’d rather stay than go home. Astrid would then return to the Seelie, the first of her three tasks complete.
Yelbeghen didn’t seem like such a bad companion either. It was strange how she felt drawn to him while also being a little repelled. He was foreign, alien even, but still she felt a little tug of attraction inside, pulling her to him.
Oh, but she was a stupid girl. She only felt that way because she was flattered by his attention. She wasn’t much to look at and though she was already eighteen, she had never had a boyfriend. Her mother had tormented her over it, saying how she was
too ugly and strange to get a man. Perhaps that was true. The drake was only fascinated with her because she was a Door. He was handsome, in an unusual way, but it was only her sense of loneliness that made her feel anything toward him. He was a dragon, for heaven’s sake.
The double doors flew open and Yelbeghen stormed into the hallway.
“They’re flawed!” he shouted, turning on Astrid. “First, you break open the package, and then you deliver an unmatched set.”
“What’s not matching about them? They’re identical.”
She glanced in towards the girls. Briar knelt on the floor with her sisters on either side of her.
“That one!” he pointed at Briar, “is no virgin. She confessed it. Tell the Seelie that the deal is off.”
“I was supposed to deliver them, and I did. I wasn’t told anything about virgins.”
“Nor should you have been. It’s none of your business. You are a delivery girl, and you have delivered faulty goods. Now deliver this message to your masters: The deal is off.”
He spun on his heel, but Astrid grabbed his arm. He yanked his arm away and looked at her like she had spat in his face.
“Now you wait a minute,” she said. “You brought these girls here as sex slaves?”
“Of course not. Why would I want to ruin them?”
“So you wanted virgins, but not to have sex with.”
He exhaled heavily through his nose, and when he spoke, he did so in a tightly controlled tone.
“I am not a human being, as your friend Captain Hazel Dubois has so astutely noticed. Why would I want three girls for sex?”
“You look like a man to me. But fine. You’re not using them as prostitutes. Why do you care one way or the other?”
“Because they’re Seelie triplets.”
He seemed to think this explained it. A moment later, she understood. The dragon wanted young maidens. Of course he did.
“Then the girls are free?” she asked. “They can go home?”
“No! They will stay here. The middle one can scrub floors on her knees, since she seems to prefer that position.”
All three girls were weeping, and Astrid noticed Isadora and Opal were now holding each other while Briar cried alone. No wonder she had been so afraid to come. Pangur Ban was right about that. But she was wrong that the drake would kill the girls. Astrid would make a Door to Seelie and throw them through herself before she allowed that to happen.
“She’ll do no such thing,” Astrid said. “It’s not her fault you didn’t specify what you wanted. And even if you had, she can do whatever she wants.”
“What do you know about it? I can tell you are human but not human born. A Door to the silent void, but so full of words. Talking and talking.”
“Damn right I’ll keep talking.”
“Then you can talk to the Seelie, those stupid, flighty, lying, conniving little beasts and ask them why exactly they sent me an unmatched set.”
“Maybe they didn’t know.”
He considered this, and then stalked down the hallway and outside, spouting a string of profanities aimed at the Seelie. She followed.
“All right, that’s enough,” she said and he paused.
“You are not nearly as frightened of me as you should be,” he said.
“Why? Are you going to change forms and eat me? Burn me to a crisp?”
“Among other things.”
“But you won’t. The Seelie said you wouldn’t harm me if I came. Why is that? Is it because I’m a Door?”
“I would never destroy something so rare. There is that part. But you—you really have no idea, do you? You do not know how much we are the same.”
Chapter 36
“Why two ravens?” Bennu asked Elliot.
She set one bowl on the kitchen counter and lifted the other to examine it. At the top of the wide, flat rim Elliot had carved two ravens standing beak to beak, wings folded.
“Symmetry, for one,” he said. “Also, as I was reading up on ancient Norse so I could write a few words that Huginn might be able to read. I kept finding things about Huginn’s twin brother. I don’t know if our Time Corps Huginn is the same raven or a namesake, but it hardly matters. The Northerners will interpret it as a representation of their own twin ravens. It might ensure the thing’s survival.”
He had not been able to write anything in old Irish for Pangur Ban, but he hoped he had done enough. All around the rim he had carved Norse and English, along with some of Bennu’s desert language, which she had written on a paper for him to copy. In each language he had written four words:
Bowls are mirrors
Astrid
By necessity, he had been forced to render her name phonetically in both Norse and the desert language, but it would have to do.
“My stone carvers created a long rectangular base for the Bast statue,” said Bennu. “I had them leave room in front to place the bowl. They will attach it securely.”
“And then you’ll take it North.”
“I have to. It’s the only way to get you out.”
In one of the cruel turns of time travel, every available option forced him to lose Bennu. If he stayed in the Library, she would leave. But if she traveled North and took the bowl that would hopefully free him, then he lost her to marriage that way as well.
“It’s good work,” continued Bennu. “How did you carve it?”
“Slowly with an old kitchen knife. It took hours. I could only carve one of the bowls. The blank one will be staying with me.”
“The carved one with the statue will be a good wedding gift for my husband. Combining the statue of my cat goddess with his twin birds is a good representation of my marriage to the Northern chieftain. It merges our worlds.”
“It’s just a bowl and a cat statue. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I know you dislike the idea.” She touched his hand for a moment, then wrapped the carved bowl in a piece of heavy burlap for safekeeping. It would return with her to the desert in nine and a half hours. Too little time, Elliot thought.
“Have you asked about having one of your cousins or sisters marry this guy?” he asked. “She could bring the bowl.”
“I’ve told you. It has to be me. My sisters and cousins are already promised to others or are too low-ranking or high-ranking to be a good match.”
“I could try to come for you after you deliver the bowl, but before you marry.”
“No. You must not think that way. My destiny is set. If I were to flee or vanish before my wedding, it would be disastrous for my people. Don’t fear for me. I will be minor royalty and will be well treated.”
“And after the wedding?”
“You would kidnap another man’s wife?”
“It wouldn’t be kidnapping if you came willingly.”
“Wars are fought for such acts,” Bennu said. “Besides, I will be expected to provide heirs.”
“You might reconsider. My home time and place is beautiful. I lived on the coast of another continent, on the beach. It’s sunny there most of the time and we have an ocean. Plenty of sand, if you like that sort of thing.”
“I do love the sand and sun. But I love my people more.”
“And me?”
“And you. Do not worry about my comfort. I will have plenty of furs to keep me warm. But I would rather you warm me. There’s still time. My research is complete, and we have the length of a night.”
Well, that was forward. But he knew they had no time for coy games.
“But what about your husband?” he asked, forcing himself to something resembling rationality. “He’ll be able to ... you know. Won’t he be able to tell that you’ve been with someone else? That he’s not the first?”
“He’s human, and their religio
ns do place a high value on this in a female. But my people do not. He will not reject me for it. If he did, it would put diplomatic relations in jeopardy. Also, who is to say you are the first either?”
She gave him a sidelong smile and then slipped her arms around his neck. “Time is short, my love.”
Later that night, Elliot sat up in bed. He did not sleep. He didn’t want to. Bennu made tiny sounds in her sleep, little sighs and murmurs. He studied the faint silvery markings around her eyes and collarbone and wondered where she came from and exactly what she was. It made no difference to him, but when he had asked her, she simply repeated that she was one of the desert people. That was all she knew. It was what they were and what they always had been.
His tiny quarters were shabby, but with Bennu here, naked and warm beneath the covers, her black hair fanned across his pillow, the place was perfect. He was old enough to know of the ephemeral nature of happiness like this. But he was also young enough to bring her here anyway. He would pay for it later, but it would be worth it.
He flipped to the page in Astrid’s old sketch book, hoping once again that new words would appear. But after seeing “We’re coming” in Astrid’s writing, the drawing had not changed at all. He could only hope that the information he had provided would be enough for them to find the white Bast and the bowl.
Not long before Bennu was due to leave, he woke her and she dressed. He walked her out of the Library and to the end of the marketplace row. As she wept, he kissed her good-bye, not caring if every soul in the marketplace saw them. Let them look. They were free to come and go. If it bothered them that others suffered because of the Librarian, so much the better.
That evening, as he cleared dishes from the tables, he heard the soft swish of Malachy’s leathery feet on the floor behind him.
“My human friend had a wife in the outside world,” said Malachy.
The Time Corps Chronicles (Complete Series) Page 106
