Long Days in Paradise - The First Book of the Shards of Heaven

by Amos T. Fairchild

Chapter 5 – Paradise II

  Paradise, they say,

  is a place of peace and plenty.

  My paradise, then,

  is here upon the sea.

  I

  It was quite some time before Tsarin returned to the square and Jorden Miles, but he was still staring at the stone, its carvings, and the lack of drive mechanism. “I still don't get it,” was all he said.

  “Grey kjar stones always rotate,” the kaedith told him, “and those of black can be coaxed into platforms of levity. If it were not for the black stone then the grey kjar would soon grind itself to dust and be lost.” Tsarin smiled. “And they are quite rare in these times.”

  Jorden could believe that. They'd all been worn away. It still was a tiny bit difficult to believe that the stone would continue to rotate if it didn't hover on its gap of nothing.

  Tsarin demonstrated. She produced a short brass rod and a large crystal of amethyst from a pocket of her robe. There were a few moments of quiet murmur, then a low hum, the brass rod directed toward the stone and stroked three times with the amethyst. The hum continued and the grey stone sank toward the black, eventually grinding against its surface. It continued to rotate without slowing, the thunder echoing from the stone walls that surrounded the square, several curious villagers directing their gaze toward the kaedith.

  Tsarin stopped humming and the grey stone again rose to its place. “That was just a short restraining spell. A great amount of energy has been granted to the black stone and it is difficult to overpower for long.” That made sense, as much sense as anything else of the domain, and Jorden simply shrugged as Tsarin pocketed the amethyst and rod, and left the stone.

  An hour stroll remained and little day left to waste in Tucaar it would seem, so the markets and stalls were left well behind, the forest again closing about them. Jorden didn't bother asking Tsarin what the meeting with the town council was about. She wouldn't have answered and he probably wouldn't have believed it even if she did. It didn't matter, it probably wasn't important. In fact it was probably downright tedious.

  The demonstration with the stone was impressive enough, as were all Tsarin's little tricks, but it didn't help Jorden's present situation. He was still stuck in paradise with a bunch of nice looking girls who were apparently quite well off financially as far as the local world was concerned. There were also servants everywhere, and a nice place to live... Although he still worried about what his mother was thinking, he was beginning to wonder if he really wanted to leave paradise at all, at least not yet. He'd have to wait and see what the catch was.

  Tsarin herself was actually quite pleasant for the next few days, she even laughed once or twice, and life for the moment was quite comfortable. He felt great as well, and the witch had become a touch less evasive. All that could be said about Hura and the Domain and the shard worlds had been said, or so Tsarin claimed, and she would discuss other matters freely enough. Some more than others.

  Jorden wasn't all that sure he cared about how svaeso – storage jars – were actually made, no matter how appetizing the pickled contents may be. Tsarin showed him anyway, from wet clay to kiln dry ceramics, from fresh fruits to pickles. There were soon another dozen jars for the cellar of the witch to replace those that were beyond their serviceable life, and svaeso jars were known to survive several generations and dozens of refills.

  Tsarin had hundreds, she had to. Several local delicacies were poisonous unless pickled for three or four years, and most inhabitants of the Domain preferred pickles that were at least ten years old, if not older. A safety margin maybe, which sounded like a good idea to Jorden. Tsarin had five jars of kari fruit that were some thirty-five cycles old, and after the jar of twenty cycle vintage Jorden was quite prepared to risk his life with the rest of the witches stock. His chances weren't good, however. Tsarin guarded her kari better than her crystals.

  II

  Jorden had to be satisfied with the food of the village that he used to supplement the largely fruit diet of the Kaedith's table. For that Tsarin had supplied a few coins, the worth of such a little vague at best. It was currency that was seldom needed in any case, many of the food vendors and houses of ware quite happy to supply food and goods to a guest of the Kaedith free of charge.

  The only real difficulty was that Tucaar was a long walk, the village of Chodor having far less to offer, and although the distance did not deter Jorden Miles, he did find that he was just as hungry by the time he returned to the house of the kaedith as he was when he left. He would then grab a pseudo-apple or coloured berry and relax beside the ponds in Tsarin's court.

  It was a great life, but Jorden had no more idea than ever exactly why he was there. Tsarin expected nothing but casual conversation, and most others of the Domain ignored Jorden completely. Except the huge landsdraw bodyguards. They seemed to give any stranger, especially male, an ever watchful eye of distrust. Jorden had no idea why, yet assumed that was merely part of their job.

  And that job was apparently to protect the kaedith.

  At least the kaedith now seemed to have a genuine purpose in the domain. Once one knew, and hopefully believed in the magic or science of the land, the work of the witches had much more worth. The potions and powders really did seem to cure the ills in this world, and there were spells that apparently rejuvenated the crops of the field, although Tsarin always suggested water and fertilizer as a first try. There were pests to control, and tormented minds to ease, and village shields to maintain, and protective charms to construct.

  Jorden wasn't so sure about the village shields. There was occasional talk about a time of darkness, especially by the girls in the employ of the kaedith. Statements like: “I have family in Tucaar, and stay within the bounds of the village shield for the period of the Time of Darkness.” Or a landsdraw might say. “I move from the cliff. The winds of Darkness are strong.”

  He wasn't real sure of the significance of this darkness thing, but it seemed that the Domain suffered severe seasonal storms for months at time, and perhaps the magic of the kaedith could combat the weather as well. As for the charms, little was said except they were expensive. They seemed to be bought to ward off certain evils, or sometimes animals. Jorden was unsure whether these spirits and species were real, and cared not to find out.

  For the most part Jorden found he was left to himself to wander the surrounds on the house of Tsarin. On such lonely days, while the kaedith was busy with her potions and powders and the arts of her witchcraft, and the girls were about their duties, Jorden would sometimes walk along the boundary of worlds and think of home and his mother, and even Bill. At least he was getting some time off school. It was a waste of time anyway since he missed so much while sick in the past.

  While he wandered, he was hopeful that a hole may just have opened for no other reason than to let him through. In movies back home, or those that concerned time and changes in dimension, whatever that was, there often seemed to be an imbalance developed, the time or dimension traveller often pursued and sucked reluctantly back into his own world. Unfortunately it seemed that such things happened only in fantasy. The real universe didn't seem to give a shit.

  The line of transition remained quiet and invisible, and totally benign, Jorden pursued only by the dread of the catch. There was probably more to paradise than met the eye. He knew that and had always felt that, yet the catch was very slow in coming.

  III

  Only the catch didn't seem to exist. It really did look like he could stay in the home of Tsarin as long as he wished without fear of... of anything. Tsarin herself seemed to want nothing from him, and indeed really did appear to just to make his stay as comfortable as was possible until the reason for his presence was made known. And that had more to do with this Hura than the kaedith herself it would seem.

  Jorden was also starting thinking that Tsarin was quite cute, for a twenty year old, and friendly in an evasive sort of way, and although she did not go out of her way to plea
se him, she did see that he had all he required. She certainly seemed to like him well enough as well, even though she often tried to distance herself with the Precint Kaedith thing.

  Jorden worried that he was starting to get something of a crush on her. He didn't really want to think of it that way. He just wanted to be friendly and she was twenty after all. There were others there more his own age, but he spent more time with Tsarin than others, and most seemed to come and go at regular intervals. Some he met in the early days in the house, like Perrin, seemed never be around any more.

  He tried to shrug it off and not do something stupid or impulsive. Like the time he stole a kiss from Jessica Falkner. Okay, it was cool for a moment, but she was totally not happy about it. Or at least she pretended as much. He'd heard a different story later, but Jorden wasn't sure whether to believe it or not.

  It would be even worse if he tried something like that on Tsarin. She was older for a start. He tried to shrug it off and couldn't believe he was even thinking things like that. But she was often very close, like when she taught pottery. Right there pressed against him. It was all a bit weird, but then everything was weird. It was still very much like some sort of dream, and he did tend to do somewhat more adventurous things in his dreams than he would ever dare in reality.

  Thoughts like that went on for some time, Jorden not even sure how many days had passed any more. And as crazy as it seemed, the day came, eventually. The day when Jorden dared the kiss.

  What the heck. It was just a kiss. He might, or more likely would, get rejected, but what the heck. It was a dream. He was starting to wonder if he really cared what happened in a dream. It was surely not an act he would regret all that much, even if Tsarin slapped him down, which was a good possibility. It wasn't likely she would do much else. It would be worth it just to see her reaction, and there were others to be friends with if she got all funny and nasty about it.

  Of course deep down he was secretly hoping she would like it. She was still cute after all, and Jorden doubted he would regret trying the kiss, or the consequences, all that much.

  Jorden Miles, however, did regret the kiss, but at least not quite for the rest of his life.

  IV

  It was a great day as well, the flare-sun hanging in the clear white skies, looking as much as ever like the starfish god rather that a sun. Tsarin was in the gardens, as cute as ever, taking a break from never-ending duties.

  And Jorden made his move.

  Even weeks later, Jorden could not recall exactly what came to pass that day. It all happened way to quick and it remained simply a series of images.

  The first image was that of Tsarin herself, her smile broad and close, her dark eyes shining, her hair dark, her dress a waterfall of gold... Jorden could remember her lips at least, they were close, then moist to the touch. At least he remembered the actual kiss. He also remembered touching her gently on her thigh, which probably wasn't a great idea at the time either. It was about then that he noticed the hidden belt under the robe and the leather scabbard.

  Then there was the sky.

  There was a white sky peeking through the leaves above. Jorden lay on his back. He did not recall getting there. He remembered only kissing, and then lying. He was also sweating. Being thrown to the ground was one possibility he had considered, although in that case Tsarin was much stronger and quicker than he was expecting.

  Tsarin was kneeling on his chest and she wasn't happy. That part was also a possible scenario he had come up with the previous day. The knife, however, wasn't really expected. Nope. That definitely wasn't part of the plan at all.

  It was a long and apparently very sharp triangular dagger, one which had appeared from nowhere, it's edge glinting in the moving light and shadow streaming in from the forest canopy above. It shook in her grasp, its point firm against his throat. Jorden swallowed and felt the sting as the point of the blade cut. That was definitely not good. He waited silently. He knew that rejection was a strong possibility, even rage on the part of the kaedith, but this was a lot more than he bargained for.

  Now she had made her point. Literally. The Kaedith Tsarin was not interested in the approaches of Jorden Miles at all and likely would never be. Now Jorden waited for her to back away, remove the knife from his throat, and tell him so. She didn't. Jorden was never sure how near he came to death at that moment, although he had his suspicions...

  It was a long time before she did remove the knife from his throat, then she stood and backed silently.

  Jorden just laid there a while longer, trying to think of some sort of apology that could possibly follow an attack like that. He might even have been managed to be angry if he hadn't been scared witless, but anger probably wasn't a good move right then. He stood slowly and carefully and cleared his throat, his eye flicking from Tsarin's frown to the long blade remaining in her grasp.

  He mumbled. He almost managed to start an apology...

  ...when something between a vice and a forklift latched on his shoulder, the surface of the Domain suddenly snatched from beneath his feet.

  A landsdraw.

  Jorden knew it had to one of the huge men lifting him into the air as he grunted and swung his feet. He didn't even consider fighting the giant. Women of Tsarin's staff gazed from the decking, each one as silent as the next. No-one spoke. Jorden considered speaking again, but found breath difficult, the arm of the landsdraw soon firm around his chest.

  It was the kaedith who in time broke silence. “You kissed me,” she said angrily. She might well have been saying you stabbed me with such a tone. “Is there is more? Are you just another stupid male after all?” She came forth, her hand falling on the forehead of the outsider. “Who is it that you think you are to dare such a thing?” she hissed.

  The coarse hair of the landsdraw's belly rubbed abrasively against Jorden's back as he tried to secure enough breath to answer. “I was just... You said...” It was hopeless. He was going to suffocate.

  “You must go. Leave this place and never return. I should take your life for such an offence, Jorden Miles. If you were not from the lands beyond... If you were not a youth...” She shook her head in disgust. “It is my own fault as well for forgetting what you truly are, and for that you may live. Leave him, Tacto, leave him to find his own way in the world. If there is a purpose for his coming then it will find him elsewhere just as easily as here.”

  Well, that was a little better, Jorden thought as he waited in hope. The landsdraw would soon return him to the land below, breath again possible, and he could get out of there. But nothing happened. “He will weaken the power of your work, Kaedith Tsarin,” Landsdraw Tacto rumbled, “and bring the fear of Darkness to us all.” A murmur sounded amongst the rapidly growing crowd on the decking, Tsarin noticing as much. “His death will silence his thoughts, and those of your own.”

  Jorden managed to suck a little more air, his death already too close to speak of such. He tried to protest, managing only a grunted “please.”

  Tsarin seemed to seriously consider the word of the landsdraw, Jorden whining and kicking. In a moment he would try tears. “My thoughts are clear, Tacto, and after my response I feel that any of his own desires will be reconsidered. And I fear that his life may have purpose to the Great One, for he has come from distant lands. I am loath to bring about his death.

  “Leave him stand to speak in his defense,” Tsarin said at last.

  The landsdraw was slow to respond, Jorden wondering who really was boss and who was servant here. He recalled what Tsarin had told him of the race and their voluntary help...

  Then he dropped to the grass of the court and gasped a good lungful of air.

  All was quiet for a moment, and Jorden rose carefully to his feet. He was as confused as ever, a permanent state in the land of dream. “I'm sorry,” he began. It was all he could think to say. “It was just a kiss. A stupid kiss...” He noticed that he had raised his voice slightly, which probably wasn't a good idea am
ongst a group of people who seemed quite willing to watch his blood water the grass. He stopped short rather than say too much.

  Tsarin shook her head, her voice mellowed now. “I am kaedith, you fool, not a female of your species. And more importantly I am Precinct Kaedith for Tucaar. Desires and lapses of concentration can bring about the destruction of everything that I have done. Village shields could fail, charms could be unmade, thousands left to the mercy of the Darkness... But you are ignorant of such, and for that reason I will let you live, Jorden Miles. I only wish that I could banish you to the world of your origin and be sure that you were beyond reach.”

  Jorden stared. That actually sounded like a good thing. Before this she had wanted to keep him in her world, now she actually wanted him home. “Okay, great,” he grunted. “Maybe you could have thought of that before...” He paused and wondered whether it was worth arguing over. He was alive and he was apparently free, it was probably too much to expect more at the moment. The catch had come, and he had brought it about. A graceful retreat was likely now in order.

  The only problem was he would most likely be left to fend for himself and wander alone along the endless lines of transition trying to find a way home. So much for paradise. “Okay then,” he said, stepping away from the landsdraw, “I'll get out of here. The further the better. I'd rather be home anyway.”

  It was all a bit much. Jorden was sure that a stupid little kiss couldn't really affect the power of the kaedith. It was some code of order, or perhaps an ancient superstition. There was plenty of that sort of rubbish back home as well, it was just a lot worse here. There was only one problem with that theory, and that was the fact that the magic of the domain wasn't really possible back in reality, and Jorden had no idea how or why it worked. He also had no idea what adversely affected it.

  None of that really mattered now, only getting away mattered, and a huge hand again grasping Jorden's shoulder did not fill him with a lot of confidence. “I fear that I can no longer just let you leave Jorden,” Tsarin said very quietly. “You have left before and then returned, and you might wander nearby for weeks before you do so again. And the purpose of you being here remains uncertain. I fear I must allow the Council of Saljid to find that purpose, or at least decide your fate. It is something that perhaps should have been done long before now.”

  It didn't sound good, Jorden thought, but he had ignorance on his side. “I'm willing,” he said. “I just want this over with and to get home. I'm just stuck in a nightmare, and nobody seems too interested in telling me what's going on. I don't even get the rules...”

  “I am not sure you understand, Jorden Miles,” Tsarin interrupted, “and so I will make it quite clear. You will be put before the Great Council, a body of high kaedith who will determine your worth and guilt. You need not fear, for they will know your mind and your ignorance, but they may see such ignorance as a danger in our world. Even so, I feel that you will again soon be free, but you will not be near me, and that is all that is important to the people of this precinct. Those of Saljid and the Council will be left to worry over you.”

  Saljid? Jorden knew of Tucaar and Bowen, but Saljid... “That's nowhere near here,” he said uncertainly.

  “Beyond the Sea of Challenge, yes. I just hope that all the vessels have not yet sailed already...”

  V

  The cage that Jorden found himself inside of was a collection of twigs and twine and little else. It sat on the rough floorboards of an old supply wagon, and was neither comfortable nor completely impenetrable, but with the landsdraw so close Jorden didn't really consider escape. Tsarin's security guards did not speak, and the driver of the wagon had words only for his horse, so he was left to bounce in silence as the wagon rattled away from the house of the kaedith.

  So much for life of comfort, Jorden thought, but at least he still had leisure time. He could still just sit and think, and not need worry about where the next meal was coming from after all. And now he was no longer haunted by the fear of the catch. Now he knew all about the flaws of this paradise and he didn't really have too much to worry about, except for the Council of Saljid. Not a worry in the world. This world at least.

  The incident certainly made a return to the real world even more satisfying. He wouldn't return with the wonder of whether he really was missing out on something... The real world! He thought of his mother and Bill and his his stupid car. He was even missing school. It was funny how he could miss things he didn't even like.

  As the wagon thumped its way along unknown roads toward an unimaginable destination, Jorden wished with all his heart that he could just return to his own world. He closed his eyes in hope.

  He peeked.

  The nightmare remained.