by TJ Muir
“It’s true. I wasn’t a very good student. But I have a much greater appreciation for learning now.”
Twin-one coughed and choked loudly, mumbling something to her sister, who laughed.
Jomar looked back and forth between them, clearly torn between the twins and his cousin, in terms of loyalty. After a moment, he stepped forward, turning them slightly, aiming them in a new direction, and said something about needing a glass of wine. As he turned, twin-two gasped.
“Look, there’s Raifen,” she exclaimed, looking back over at Diya.
Jay looked at Diya. She seemed a little uncomfortable, but not in distress.
Twin-one was quick to chase after that bit. “I hear he was chasing after Findal.”
Twin-two snorted.
At that point, the three of them had moved out of hearing range, much to Jay’s relief. He felt bad for Diya, since he knew the twins were trying to shame her without actually saying anything.
“The guy is a dink,” Jay said. “Don’t give him the courtesy of your time or concern.”
Diya gasped, hearing Jay spurn the man openly and blatantly, and crudely. But she looked relieved, as well, and smiled at him.
“Thank you,” she said. “I think I would enjoy a glass of wine,” and she looped her hand under Jay’s arm, turning him toward one of the other serving areas.
Jay didn’t see the connection between the festival, and anything to do with the harvest. It gave him the chance to watch his patron close up, in his native setting. And to watch others as they shifted and moved around Hak’kar. As he watched, he sensed a strange pattern. While no one was impolite or disrespectful to his patron, many people seemed to find ways to avoid the man or to look very uncomfortable upon noticing Hak'kar. Mostly, it confirmed what he already understood of the man: great power and a person of importance, even among the people who made things move in the world.
Not long after the Harvest Fest, was The feast of the Dancing Moons. It was a formal indoor event- where the next year of young adults was invited and presented publicly. For this event, there was no such invitation, and so he was left to his own devices.
Actually, he was relieved to have some time to himself. He talked with Kirrin over breakfast, chatting innocently about information that Kirrin would then pass back to Hak’kar. And as usual, Kirrin went over lessons with him as well.
Today, it was politics outside the city.
“So, it’s all different? Out there?” Jay asked, waving his hand across the map on the table.
“Not exactly different, but yes,” Kirrin answered. “Let me explain, then it may make more sense.” When Jay nodded, he continued.
“All of these, each is its own region. Much as Tatak Rhe. Each region has several Da’Har- with few exceptions. Most regions have three to five of the Greater Houses. And each region has several more So’Har, under each Da’Har. Lesser Houses. And while there is nothing that specifically binds them by law- there is a bond. As with families. Da’Har make agreements between regions. So’Har make agreements and law within regions.”
“But So’Har make all sorts of agreements and deals,” Jay challenged.
“Yes. But that is here in Tatak Rhe. That is where things are different; it has changed over time. But out in the regions, So’Har depend on the Da’Har within their region.”
“But there are so many more So’Har than Da’Har. Doesn’t that give them more power?”
“Yes and no. They balance each other out. Some powers are specific to each, but Da’Har hold the greater Power.”
“What power is that? How do they hold more power?” Jay asked. He was beginning to understand power in Tatak Rhe, like a game of playing cards. The person who held the most cards and the best cards won the round or the game.
“Their power still lies with the Yfa’ Chirra.”
“What is that? Yfa cherry?”
“Yfa’ Chirra,” Kirrin corrected. “The magic shells. From the ancients, or the gods, some say. No one knows precisely what they are, or how they came to be. Beautiful giant structures, like artwork. They hold great power. They move water.”
“You mean like a water wheel?”
“Yes and no. Yes, a water wheel moves water- in very small distances and amounts. You can grasp how it works. The Yfa’ Chirra work by magic and move vast amounts of water to irrigate fields, bringing water into villages and towns when it is needed. The Da’Har have possession of them. The So’Har, possess Yfa’ Chirrik- smaller versions of the same thing.
Jay thought his brain was about to burst out his ears just to stop trying to make sense of it all.
“Is it okay if we take a break?” Jay looked across the work table, cluttered with maps, books, pens and papers, all clamoring for his attention. Jay knew Kirrin’s look. His mentor-tutor was about to insist on working just a bit longer. Before Kirrin could even open his mouth, Jay rushed to speak.
“I just thought maybe I could find a book about something I really like, like maps, or bears. Then it would be more fun as I practice my reading.”
He could tell Kirrin didn’t look convinced. Jay put on his best innocent-please face and silently waited, staring Kirrin down. He blinked, raising his eyebrows beseeching- begging without words.
Kirrin caved in. The man’s shoulders slumped, as he let out his breath. Kirrin nodded toward the door, and Jay knew he had permission to escape.
He walked out of the cottage and headed towards the lower terraces. Leanna and Findal had been right. Using the archives to escape did work. But Jay really did want to go to the archives. The woman wearing his pendant had been gnawing away at him. He wanted to see what he could find out about the portrait. So he headed to the archives now, sure that he would not accidentally cross paths with Diya there. He could try to do some digging, and ask questions from someone who maintained the archives. Someone to whom he would be anonymous and his question would be idle curiosity.
He found one of the archivists first, who was busy repairing a small model of the north bridge.
“Excuse me?” Jay said, coughing politely the way he had watched his friends do.
The older man looked up, peering at Jay over the top of the mini-towers that supported the bridge's weight. Jay wasn't sure the man wanted to be disturbed. He took a step backward.
The man looked weary and impatient at the same time. “Well, what is it? You want a love spell? Or a family registry?”
The man's question threw Jay off for a moment. “What? No. Nothing like that.”
“Good,” the man muttered. “Don't need more spoiled little upstarts unhappy because they don't gets what they want.”
Jay blinked, taken back. Then he blushed, realizing the man was including Jay. “No, sir. I just have a question. About a painting.”
“The paintings? That'd be Edram you want to talk to. He know all bout what was painted of who and when. And all the juicy history gossip that never got onto the canvas.”
Jay made a note of that, “Where do I find this Edram person?”
Jay found Edram in a small studio, cleaning up an old landscape. He looked up, noted Jay's presence, and returned to what he was doing, grumbling in a similar manner to the previous man.
“I keep tellen em not to put the paintings in the sunlight,” he muttered. “But no. Those fine ladies and such can't be bothered with the care of the artwork. So now it's on such as me to clean em up and restore em to the way they're 'sposed to look.”
Jay nodded sympathetically, as he watched the man touching a small cloth to the painting, dabbing it into a small glittering jar and then returning it to the hillside.
“This stuff ain't cheap to bring it back to the way it’s 'sposed to be,”
Jay watched the painting. Whatever was in the jar, the difference was impressive. Where the man had dabbed and brushed, the colors had a vibrancy that the rest of the image lacked. It looked fresh, as though the paints were still wet, and he even had a sense of depth. Almost life-like.
“W
ell, whatsit you want?” Edram asked, looking up.
“I just have a question, about a painting that’s in the hall beneath the southern gallery.”
The man just nodded, so Jay continued. “It's a painting of a woman She looked a bit darker than most people around the city. Skin like, well, I'm not sure. Creamy but dark, like almonds maybe?”
“Yes, yes, very unique, she was,” Edram nodded, looking up from his work. “The White Coast Woman, that's the title of the work. Very old. Not much known about it, or her.”
“Interesting. Well, I was curious about the pendant she wears. The spiral shell shape.”
Edram nodded. “That'd be one of them Tiqqua things. Least that's what the stories called em. Old legend. Most people thinkin it's just myths and stories.”
“Stories? About the pendant? Pendants? Was there more than one?”
Edram put aside his cloth, wiping his hands. “Some stories say yes, others not. Some stories talk about them as though there were many. In others the Tiqqua’s a thing. Hard to know with the ancient dialects, too. There's a verse at the end of Giliad mentions the Tiqqua- something between the Gods and the chosen, a mark of the promise or some such- for those that hold them. In some versions, they were gifted by the gods and possess special magic powers that lay dormant, until the time was right, or the Gods returned. In other instances, they were the mark of a special race or lineage.”
Ultimately, he couldn’t find out where they came from, what their purpose was, or how he might have come to possess one. It added a layer of mystery into his identity- feeding a cherished dream that he was important and that maybe someone had stolen him, or his parents had lost him somehow. But all of the stories carried the sense that the tiqqua were important, and connected to the gods somehow. He wondered. How was he connected then? Could he be part of some ancient lineage or magical covenant with the gods? Could this pendant hold some clue to his heritage? Would there be some magical ending for him?
But he didn’t indulge in those kinds of dreams for long. He remembered too well the reality of being cold and hungry, and knew that as long as he continued to be useful to the people around him, he would be taken care of, no longer than that, so he made it a point to continue being useful. Occasionally he felt guilty, being an impostor, and a spy. But he told himself that he wasn’t revealing anything that was said in confidence or was damaging- just the little day to day things. And inbetween that time, he liked to learn about the world around him-- even if it was, in part, to impress a girl.
His next stop was to find a book on bears. The trouble was that the books he could understand without struggling were for children. It took him a while to find a book for adults, with plenty of pictures in it and enough words that Kirrin would be satisfied. If he was lucky he would find something he could drop into a conversation with Diya.
Then he headed out of the natural studies section and to the local resources. He wanted to look for information about the water and canals in the city. While he was there, he wondered about the dry canals where he used to live, and about the abandoned tunnels. What were they used for originally and what made the symbols on the walls glow when he walked through them?
“Well hello, Jaybird.” A hand clapped him on the back. “A secret scholar. I love it.”
“Trey! Hello!” Jay greeted his friend, while trying to conceal his book on bears. Unsuccessfully.
“Well, ho, what’s this?” Trey asked, slipping the book out from under Jay’s arm.
“Oh, ummm. It’s about bears.” Jay felt foolish, stating the obvious.
“I see that,” Trey said. Jay could feel the sarcasm right down into his bones.
“Why bears?”
Jay shrugged. “They’re interesting. And it gives me something to talk about with the girls.”
Trey laughed, a delighted howl. “I love it! I will have to try that. But wolves are far more interesting.”
“Wolves?”
“Yes. They’re a social creature, like us humans. They form packs, like families, or Da’har.”
“I don’t know much about wolves,” Jay admitted, but feeling curious.
“If you spend any time in Tatak Rhe, you know more about wolves than you realize.”
Jay blinked, but had no idea what Trey meant.
“Hang on. I need to grab some maps for our estate manager. No idea why. But after my latest incident, I have been placed on my father’s redemption list.” Trey rolled his eyes.
“What does that mean?”
Trey shrugged, explaining. “It means Daddy was red-god angry and I’ll be running errands for a few spans. But, it won’t interfere with the blasted dance tonight--You won’t miss a thing there. If he knew about our after party--you are coming to that, yes?--he might try and ban it, but fortunately I have kept it out of his awareness!”
Jay didn’t think Trey was that worried. Despite the words, it sounded like Daddy was forgiving of Trey’s indiscretions and transgressions.
Jay followed Trey while he dug up a handful of maps.
“Okay. I can find some sad alley rat to deliver these for me. How ‘bout we go find a bottle of wine, and I will teach you about wolves.” He draped an arm around Jay’s shoulder as he spoke, guiding Jay along with him as they walked.
Trey led him to a quiet little cafe, with a deck in the back that overlooked the east side of the city. They could even glimpse the river in the distance.
Soon, they had a plate of sausage rolls and a large bottle of wine in front of them.
“I would have asked for the cider- but it’s probably only the local stuff. The wine will have to do.”
“It’s good. I mean, I’m fine with it,” Jay said, correcting himself. He didn’t want Trey to think he had no taste in wines and ciders-- even if he didn’t know much about either. Jay looked up, spotted a ball lodged up in the gutter of the building next door.
Trey followed his glance. “Some poor kid lost his Polarity ball.”
Jay knew how precious those were to the kids from the city streets.
“It isn’t going to take flight,“ Trey laughed.
Jay shrugged. “I know. But it’s just going to bug me, now that I know it’s there.”
“Well, that’s going to be a problem then. Should we move to another table?”
Jay took a sip of his wine, eyeing the ball.
“You aren’t going to let that go, are you?”
“Sorry.”
“What do you propose?” Trey asked. “Should we leave?”
“What?” Jay asked, surprised. “No.”
He sat there for a while, but kept looking back at the ball.
“By the red god,” Trey finally swore, laughing.
“Hang on. I can just go grab it.”
“What?” Trey asked. But Jay was already over the low railing, and scrambling up the drainpipe. Within moments, he had the ball and was back down on the ground.
Trey cackled. And several of the other customers bought them rounds of drinks.
After it died down, Trey refilled his wine glass, and leaned back in his chair.
“So, we were talking about wolves, and the city.”
Jay almost asked if there were wolves in the city, but he caught himself. He realized that Trey was referring to the people in the city.
“Are there not wolves outside of the city?” Jay asked, trying to sound clever.
“Oh, there are wolves everywhere. But these wolves are exceptional. Territorial, aggressive, cunning,” he said, with a feral grin. “Look at the connection between Pavan and Matra, for example. Those two houses are original, and despise each other particularly, but they never quite break apart, either. As though they are somehow bound- like family, perhaps. Those are the oldest alliances, love-hate. Like a marriage.”
Trey stopped to pour out more wine for both of them. He raised his glass, saluting Jay. “It’s like the philosopher Gallius said of the Nibbin. ‘Just because he never catches his own tail, doesn’t stop him from racing
around backwards like an idiot.’ Or something like that.” And he laughed, downing his wine.
Chapter Eight
Late that night, after Feast of The Dancing Moons was over, a handful of his social friends clustered together on the terraced gardens for the promised festivities. When Jay arrived with Jomar, he was just as impressed by what he saw, as he was with the other garden. It was surrounded by large walls and was another gated haven, littered with statues and whimsy. Hedges and shrubs depicted a herd of horses running- with the added touches of magic, that made it look like they were in motion. Amazing, delightful, and reserved only for elite residences.
Jay was surprised to see a new face among their crowd. A young man, tawny coloured skin and silver blond hair that set off too-blue eyes.
Trey called out as he approached, “Jaybird! Come and meet our new best friend! Jay, this is Chambiria, or do you prefer Cham?” Trey asked, looking at the silver-gold beauty.
“Cham is fine,” he assured.
“Cham it is!” Trey said, looking relieved. “And ooh! Are we in for a party! Tonight. Here, after hours! Special delight, all around! Cham is our most honored Faenyr friend.”
“Faenmyr,” Cham corrected. “Sorry, only a half breed.”
Trey clapped the new fellow on the shoulder. “A splendid fellow, the best of both worlds.” Trey was beaming his brightest smile at the new friend.
Jay felt a moment of jealousy. But his ears perked up at the word half-breed. Was this Cham a half-breed like him?
Jay wiggled his way over to Trey, coming up on his other side. He bumped into Trey, less accidentally than many of his clumsy moments. Trey turned toward him.
“My Jaybird!” Trey said, hugging Jay’s shoulders.
Jay smiled, feeling better for having secured his friendship with Trey. But he was looking across Trey at Cham. Jay wanted to see what this fellow looked like. He wasn’t disappointed. Jay recognized his own tawny skin and lean features in Cham. The hair was lighter, like bits of honey dripping down moonlight. Jay felt clumsy and awkward in comparison to the graceful poise Cham possessed, and the man hadn’t even moved.
