by Nhys Glover
When Zem caught me up in his arms with a smug look on his face, I couldn’t help but blush with embarrassed fury. Why did I have to be the one discovering muscles I rarely used? Was he not suffering at all from the after-effects of our love-making? From the look on his tired face, and even tireder thoughts, it was clear only lack of sleep was bothering him.
Our first stop was the old palace, which the provincial government now claimed as its own. That the old King and many of his nobles made up that government, was of little concern to most people, who were just happy to have a voice. And they did. Airsha insisted on it.
In every administrative location in Airshan the detailed records of the citizens and their dwelling places could be found. This was where we expected to find out about the Geals. And sure enough, within a turn we were exiting the building with the address of Landor’s parents. They still had a huge mansion on the outskirts of the city as well as several smaller homes in the country and the Airshan Capital. Our hope was that they would be currently in residence here.
We took a hack to the location, for speed and because we didn’t know the city well. I had been here maybe a handful of times, Zem a few less. He’d lived on the streets of Godslund’s capital when he was young, I’d moved around a lot. But I’d never explored the well-to-do areas of this city, unless it was for the purpose of breaking in and stealing from one of the fancy houses. Dangerous, of course. Any place with servants was. But the pickings were better and often worth the risk.
Once the hack had dropped us at the gates to the palatial dwelling, we walked the forty odd strides to the front door. We were no strangers to magnificence now, and we barely registered the marble stairs and fine columns that held up the portico.
Zem banged on the door with the knocker and waited until we heard running footsteps on the other side. The double doors swung open almost all the way and an officious looking servant stared out at us through the opening.
“Deliveries around the back,” he announced, after giving us the once-over with his imperious gaze.
“Not making any deliveries,” Zem said in his most educated voice. “We are here to see the mistress of the house. We are on business from the Goddess Incarnate herself.”
That got his attention, as we expected it would. The door opened fully, although the servant remained firmly placed in the opening to block any sudden rushes to enter.
“What business might that be?” he demanded. From his thoughts I could see he was still unconvinced we were anything other than two vagabonds trying to gain unwarranted entry to his domain.
“We are airling riders sent with a message for your mistress. Is she within?” Zem said with a little more steel in his tone.
The man examined us with different eyes then. Aye, he could understand the clothing now. One would hardly be expected to wear one’s finest clothing when riding an airling. But he was still going to try another gate-keeping ploy.
I decided to pre-empt him. “And no it is not a written message that you can deliver yourself. It must be delivered in person.”
His eyes opened widely as he examined me more closely.
“Aye, I read your mind. I am an Air Mistress. Have we finally gained your approval, or will I have to report you to my friend, the Goddess Incarnate herself,” I snapped imperiously.
He scuttled out of the doorway as if I’d thrown a jet of fire at him. “Of course, of course. Come right in. I will inform the mistress. She will see you momentarily.”
Zem frowned at me, as I grinned at the retreating manservant. “You get too much pleasure out of moments like that.”
“I have to take my pleasure where I can find it.” I wriggled my brows suggestively, watching with delight as Zem’s cheeks reddened.
True to his word, the middle-aged manservant was back in moments and leading us into a formal sitting room. Here a dark-haired olive-skinned woman sat reading to a small childling, who must have been about three or four suns old.
“Good day to you both. I am told you have a message for me from the Goddess Incarnate?” she said, looking down her nose at us, but keeping her tone just this side of polite.
“More a question that requires an answer,” Zem said, still in his nobleman’s voice. I left things like this to him because I didn’t have his accent, though my vocabulary was better than most fisherfolk because my mother had been a cast-off noblewoman. Sometimes I used those words; sometimes I stuck with ornery pride to the language of my Dah.
“Even more curious,” she said, fluttering her long, dark lashes at Zem. “Go on.”
Was she flirting with him? I read her mind and discovered that was exactly what she was doing. I felt jealous fury rising inside me. Not only had this woman cast-off Landor, but she was trying to take my... What? I would have said friend, but we were more than friends now. Lover? Consort? Could he qualify as my consort? We had not agreed to the marriage bond, so I couldn’t claim him as husband. But that’s how I was starting to see him.
“You had a son twenty-five suns ago. The Chosen One wishes to know what became of him.”
The colour drained out of the dusky face and her dark eyes became dull and lifeless. “I do not speak of that time, sir. I am sorry.”
“Unfortunately, it is a matter of much importance that you do,” Zem said patiently. “You can give me the answers I seek, and I will be on my way, or you can accompany me to the Airshan Capital and explain to the Goddess Incarnate herself why you will not give her the information she needs.”
“Why, I never!” she sputtered out indignantly.
Had no one ever stood up to this woman before? Was she so spoiled she thought she could go against Airsha herself and get away with it?
“He is dead. There you have it. He died, and I never recovered. Happy now?” she said petulantly, more like a little girl than a matron approaching fifty suns.
“Who took the babe away to have him disposed of,” Zem pressed, showing no indication he was touched by her story.
I saw it then. The Mistress—tall, straight backed and in her thirties, but with a sour puckered expression that made her look much older. She took up the infant from the priest who had been inspecting him and said she would deal with it.
It. I shuddered at the way she said that word. She could have been talking about a shite a wadja left on the carpet. Although a woman like her would never have to deal with such an unsavoury occurrence. That was what servants were for.
“Who was the woman who took the babe away to deal with it?” I asked.
Her grey eyes met mine for an instant in surprise before looking away again. “My sister. My older sister Kada. Kada Zarvh.”
“And where can your sister be found?” Zem asked.
“Her husband is dead and she lives in her dower residence three leagues out of the city. She is... My sister is unwell. After her husband died she began a slow decline.”
“When did he die?” Zem asked again, a question I found irrelevant.
“Twenty-six suns ago. Not long before my babe was born... unwell.”
“You use the word unwell to cover many situations. Your son was born an albino and your sister is mad. Is that right?” I demanded, incensed by this woman. How did a mother hand over her babe to a woman who was already showings signs of insanity?
“How dare you! I do not care who sent you. I will not be spoken to in that way by anyone, especially in my own home.”
Zem turned to leave. I had to have the parting word though. “Do you know she kept him locked in a room, chained to a bed in the dark, all his life? Do you know she had sex with him, starting when he was little more than a childling? That’s what happens when you give an unwell woman charge over your babe. I hope you took better care of your other childlings.”
The way her mouth dropped open was sufficient reaction for me. I turned on my heel and stormed off after Zem.
Chapter Seven
“Was that wise?” Zem asked calmly as we jogged down the long driveway to the gates. The su
n overhead was hot and, without the cooling breeze to be had when flying, my tunic clung uncomfortably to my sweating skin.
“Maybe not, but it felt good. I can’t imagine allowing a child, who I’d just laboured turns to bring into the world, to be taken away by a madwoman.”
“She didn’t say...”
“She did in her head. That spoiled bitch knew her sister had become unhinged. There was even talk she’d killed her husband because he was threatening to take another wife. ‘The Mistress’ couldn’t provide him with an heir, it seemed. It was all there in her head.”
Zem huffed. “Sometimes I’m not sure if your magic is a gift or a curse.”
“If it finds us Landor then it’s a gift. Look, there’s the hack waiting for us under that tree. I didn’t think he’d still be there.”
“I gave him enough of a tip to assure us he would. Now, do you think you got enough from her head to tell the driver where to find this woman’s estate?”
“It’s on the main road out of town three leagues. A place set back from the road, a little smaller than this place, but made entirely of cream stone. The estate is falling into disrepair.”
“No doubt, with a madwoman overseeing it.”
“Mmm. I hope the staff haven’t discovered their mistress is dead and taken off with the silver.”
“If that were the case, it might make it easier for us to get in and find Landor. An empty house is easier to break into.”
I laughed. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who’d broken into fine houses in their younger suns. “Maybe.”
In another turn we had reached the dower home of the noblewoman, Kada Zarvh. A dower home was the property that came with the bride to the marriage, and which returned to her in a situation where her husband died without an heir of his own. His entailed property went to his closest male family member, but the wife was entitled to her dower and anything else the husband may have left for her in his Will. Kada had done well enough from her husband’s death, I thought. Better than living with the fat old fart I’d seen in her sister’s head. I might have killed him too, if I’d had to share his bed often enough.
The place was in worse disrepair than Mistress Geal had pictured in her mind. There were clearly no gardeners left working here, as last sun’s leaves littered the marble portico and weeds choked out the hedge that lined it. Guttering had fallen from its place and hung drunkenly by a few metal brackets.
Zem had again bribed our hack driver to remain, though we expected to be a lot longer this time. Getting Landor free and away from this house was going to take more than a quarter turn. In fact, it might be better to stay here for the time being until he was able to travel.
I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to see sunlight after a lifetime in the dark. What it would be like to talk to someone other than the mad woman who’d been your only companion. And your only knowledge of the outside world was what that madwoman had told you and what you’d read about in ancient books. Unimaginable!
How were we going to get him to a place where he could take on an evil force set on destroying the world? It would take suns before he could even function in the world, let alone become the Goddess’ champion. Could the Goddess of all Creation be “unwell” like the mistress of this house? To have chosen Landor and me for this task was... insane!
Zem banged the knocker and we stood for some time without hearing any footsteps on the other side of the door. Zem knocked again. Just before he made his third and last attempt, the door swung open and a bedraggled looking middle-aged woman stood staring out at us. She couldn’t have been more different from the manservant we had met at the Geal residence if she’d tried.
“We’re not hiring. Please don’t knock again,” she said hurriedly, preparing to shut the door in our faces.
“We are not looking to be hired. We have come about the man in the dark room. And about your mistress who is now dead,” Zem said, getting to the point immediately.
The woman’s mouth dropped open, and she whimpered a little. “You know about the monster? Has he killed her then?”
“Take us to the room immediately. We have been sent by the Goddess Incarnate herself. You must do her bidding or face the consequences,” Zen intoned harshly, sounding like an old priest I once heard berating his flock.
Would there soon be priests of the Goddess who would do the same thing? No, Airsha would never allow such a thing. The Goddess required no intermediary or a temple when there were forests that were her sanctuaries.
The woman shook her head but backed out of the doorway. “She’ll be mad about this. Nobody sees the monster. Only me. And my sister who was wet nurse to him all those long suns ago. The monster killed her, and he’d kill me if he had the chance.”
“He killed your sister? How? When?” I demanded, just so I could get her mind thinking on the subject.
I saw her sister feeding the babe in the same small, dark room I’d seen in the dream, while this woman warned her to watch out or the babe would kill her. The wet-nurse had laughed at her sister’s foolishness, and seemed kind and gentle with the babe, keeping him clean, dry and well fed.
There was a big argument with the mistress one day when the boy was about four or five. The nurse had sickened and died shortly after. Killed by a bite from the monster, this woman was sure, and she refused to see to his needs unless he was chained up.
So the Mistress had done that for her. Ever since, she’d been taking a meal to him once a day before taking away his slops. She never spoke to him and always left his food and slop bucket just in reach of his extended chain. That meant she could grab them up and be out of range if ever he made a lunge for her.
How her sister could have cared for that ugly, white thing she didn’t know. The Mistress should have killed it right from the start. But she’d wanted her own child so much. It had driven her a little mad not ever having one.
That loathsome monster should never have been a replacement for her own babes. She should have married again and had her own childlings. Not wasted her life on that misbegotten creature who could never be any good for anything but reading and killing.
After hearing this woman’s thoughts for the full time it took to go down to the cellar, I couldn’t dismiss her fast enough.
“Go away from here now. Your mistress is dead, and you will be next if you don’t leave here immediately,” I told her harshly.
The woman thrust a huge key at me and raced back up the stairs to the light, mumbling under her breath about monsters every step of the way.
“And before you ask if that was wise, let me remind you that you didn’t have to listen to her thoughts all the way down here. The woman was as much a monster as her mistress. She would have left him in here to die, I’m sure of it,” I told Zem, who was looking at me in surprise.
The servant hadn’t taken the lamp with her so we headed down the short, stone corridor to the room at the very end. There was only one door down here. And though I had the key I knew I didn’t need it because the Mistress hadn’t locked it after her when she came to him last night.
Sure enough, the door opened as soon as I turned the knob. And, just as in my dream, the door hinges screeched as I pushed it open. Zem followed close on my heels, alert to any possible danger. He too seemed to believe a monster might dwell in this dark, dank place.
What I saw broke my heart. A thin, white man sat curled up on the floor beside a bed on which a black-gowned woman lay. Her arms were crossed over her chest. I would have thought her asleep if not for her blue-tinged mouth and grey skin-tone. I would have thought the man dead too—and what was left a mere spectre of his former self—had he not thrown up his arm to protect his eyes from the light. I heard his soft cry of surprised fear and it made me want to run away. I wanted to escape this terrible place and forget what I was seeing.
But I couldn’t. Landor deserved better than what life had given him so far.
“I did not kill her. I swear I did not kill her,” he sa
id in that deep, smooth voice I remembered from my dream.
“I know you didn’t, Landor,” I said softly, holding back my tears with difficulty. “You tried to save her. You tried to heal her. But she was already too far gone for your help. We have come to take you away from this terrible place.”
His eyes had become used to the light now, and he stared up at me with resignation. He thought we were taking him to his death. And part of him was glad. Without his mistress, what life was there for him anyway?
Kneeling down in front of him, I made a point of leaving him a little personal space so he didn’t feel crowded. I was the first person to ever speak to him, other than his mistress. Of course, there had been his wet-nurse. I imagined she’d talked to him. But he didn’t remember her. In his mind there was only The Mistress and her scared servant who never looked at him.
“You are not going to your death. You are not a monster. You are going to be part of our family. Mine and Zem’s. We won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise.”
“Who...?” he started to ask my identity but froze shyly, not sure if he had the right to ask such a question.
“My name is Flea. Funny name, isn’t it? It’s really Fellica, but I’ve been Flea for so long that I don’t even recognise that other name as mine. Have you come across the Goddess in any of your books?”
He nodded immediately, suddenly on safe, familiar ground. “Some writers say she does not exist. That only the gods exist. Others say she did exist back at the beginning of time, but she was evil and was driven off by the gods. Others say... others say she is the only true creator of us all.”
I could feel Zem hovering behind me, holding the lamp, and he was making Landor nervous. “Zem, come sit here on the floor with us. Zem is my friend... my... my consort. And he will become your friend too.”
Zem dropped to his knees beside me and put the lamp on the floor. I could see Landor more clearly then. I expected to see an animated skeleton, but I was surprised to find him thin, but not skeletally so, with long limbs, long and graceful hands and fingers, and oily white hair he tied back from his face in some kind of tail. Though his white skin was odd, in every other way he was stunningly handsome and... elegant, even sitting on a stone floor, dressed in rags.
