The Hienama
Page 3
I continued to drink and even shared breath with some har; I can’t remember who it was. At one point, I was left alone, and I was just sitting there, staring at the willows, looking for tree spirits, completely intoxicated. It was then that Zehn decided to take me on. He sat down in front of me, apparently having shed his companion.
‘You really think a lot of yourself,’ he said. ‘You’re not as perfect as you like to think, Jass. Who the hell do you think you are?’
‘Excuse me?’ I laughed in his face.
‘It’s pathetic the way you think you’re so much better than everyhar else, it really is. It makes you look stupid. Hara notice, you know.’
I smirked at him. ‘Your opinions are of no interest to me, Zehn. What’s the matter? Can’t you get your head round the fact there’s one har in Jesith who doesn’t fancy you?’
He made an angry sound, started to say something, then shut his mouth. He shook his head.
I stared at him, wondering what I was really looking at. I felt powerful, because I knew he wanted me to like him. I knew how he felt, that was the thing. And I think that was what made me say it. ‘I’m going home now. Do you want to come with me?’
He glanced up at me, and his eyes were dark and wide. He looked bitter. ‘What?’
‘You heard. The offer’s there. It’s up to you.’ I stood up.
He stared at the table. I shrugged and walked into the bar. I saw Minnow heading back towards the garden and managed to avoid him.
The little street at the front of the Pool was empty and quiet. I waited a few seconds before I started to walk home. I wanted to see whether Zehn would come after me, and if he did, it would tell me a lot.
He caught up with me when I was halfway home. I heard the running footsteps and laughed softly to myself. I stopped walking but didn’t turn round.
‘Jass…’
Another feeling came into me, a sort of vengefulness. I stood for a moment and let the silence expand, then wheeled round and grabbed hold of him. I pressed my mouth to his, exhaled deeply, sent my breath deep inside him. He went limp in my arms, but returned the kiss. I hadn’t shared breath with Ysobi. I knew he wouldn’t do that with his students. What would it feel like to touch him that way?
I was light-headed myself before I broke away from Zehn. He slumped against me, his heart beating so fast and so hard I could feel it through our clothes. ‘God,’ he said.
I put his left hand through my right elbow and led him home.
Once we were inside the cottage, I thought about whether I wanted Zehn in my bed, or whether I should just push him onto the carpet. If I took him upstairs, it would probably mean he’d want to sleep here. ‘Do you want a drink?’ I asked him.
‘OK.’
‘Sit down,’ I said.
He sat on my moth-eaten old sofa, which despite appearances was very comfortable. I gave him some wine. I always had wine, of course.
‘Did you come here to Jesith to train?’ I asked him.
He shook his head. ‘No, I was incepted here, a few years ago. A friend of Sinnar’s brought me here.’
‘Have you trained?’
‘A bit. Is that all you’re interested in?’ He took a drink. He was trembling.
‘No, just curious.’ I sat down beside him. He was a different har now, unsure of himself, nervous. I took the drink from his hand. ‘We’ll be friends. OK?’
He smiled at me rather bleakly. ‘What’s this about, Jass?’
‘You came here. You know what it’s about.’ I took his face in my hands, bent my head to his. He knew I wanted him to be soume and became so willingly. As we shared breath, I put my hand between his legs and stroked him through his trousers. I kept stroking him gently until the cloth felt damp. Then I pulled away from his mouth. He gasped, his eyes closed. I took off his clothes, as Ysobi had done to me. I pushed him back into the dusty cushions and raised his knees. His soume-lam was a dark flower in the dim light, as were the bunched folds of his ouana-lim, which had shrunk into his body. I stared at him, wanting him to feel vulnerable and exposed. I put a finger into him, felt for the first energy centre and gently rubbed it. He groaned and warmth spread over my hand. Then I knelt before him on the floor and kissed the outer folds of his soume-lam. He smelled fragrant, like violets. I would do to him what I wanted done to me. When I finally put my tongue inside him, the first sikra was already a hard little nut. He put his hands on my head, pulled me closer, raising his legs. Fluid gushed over my face, he was so aroused. I drank it, feeling my ouana-lim pressing painfully against my trousers. Reaching down with one hand, I released it. I pushed my trousers down to my thighs. I meant to do what Ysobi had done, just connect us hip to hip, but ultimately I couldn’t do that.
I pushed Zehn round until he was lying on the sofa, then lay on top of him. When I pressed against him, I was at exactly the right angle and slid right inside him. He put his legs round my waist and we shared breath again. My face was wet against his. He licked me. I kept it slow and deep, ceasing movement when I sensed him begin to peak. He uttered soft little groans of pleasure, holding me close. We melted into each other: I was a hawk flying, a silver fish at the bottom of the willow pool. Beautiful visions cascaded through my mind. This was how it should be. I felt my own peak approaching, the tingle in my ouana-lim that presaged the darting tongue. Our movements became frantic, fluids foaming between us like horse’s sweat. We were two sea creatures, bubbles all around us in the dark, writhing and pulsing. The ouana-tongue shot out and embedded itself. Aren jetted out around it; I could feel every pulse. Zehn pushed his legs high into the air and yelled. I felt the contractions, not just in his soume-lam, but throughout his whole body. In my mind, we shot out of our watery bed and took to the air, fins turning to wings. When the tongue came out of him, I began moving again, so he’d reach another peak. It was entirely physical then, like it had been for me with Ysobi. Zehn’s cries were like those of pain. Then I lay still and heavy upon him.
For some minutes, neither of us spoke or moved, then Zehn began stroking my back. ‘Jass,’ he murmured. ‘God, Jass.’
I raised myself and looked down at him. His lips were heavy, almost bruised-looking, and his eyes were half closed. He looked sated, utterly sated. ‘Now you know,’ I said. ‘Was it good?’
He laughed weakly. ‘Good? Jass, that was… It was the sort of aruna I imagine chesnari would have, the sort you dream of, and always try to find.’
‘You’ve done quite a lot of looking, haven’t you?’ I smiled. I didn’t want that to be a spiteful question.
He nodded. ‘Yes. My instincts were right, though. I knew there was something different about you.’
‘I wanted to give you pleasure, that’s all.’ I got up from the sofa, and now he lay there with his legs open, totally unembarrassed. There would be stains left behind him. I handed him his drink again.
He would be confused, thinking that was the most wonderful aruna he’d ever had, and did it mean nothing to me?
‘Why now?’ he asked me. ‘What was all that bitching about these last few weeks?’
‘I don’t like to be taken for granted,’ I said. ‘I thought it might be more interesting to make you work for me.’
‘Have you ever been chesna with somehar, Jass?’
I stared at him steadily. ‘No. I’m not looking for that.’
He looked away from me, sat up and reached for his clothes. If I were ever to be intimate with him again, it wouldn’t be for a while. I felt contrite though, because he looked as if I’d punched him in the gut. Again, I knew that feeling.
‘Hey, we’re friends,’ I said softly. ‘Friends take aruna. Don’t go weird on me. This is not the Zehn I know.’
‘You’ve no idea,’ he said, pulling on his shirt. ‘You don’t know me at all. You don’t know how I feel.’
It occurred to me that I did. I went to him, held him close. ‘It was good,’ I murmured into his hair. ‘Don’t let it be spoiled.’
He laid his head on
my shoulder and sighed. ‘You want me to go now, right?’
I did, but relented. ‘I was going to make myself something to eat. I’ve drunk too much. Are you hungry?’
‘A bit.’ He laughed; a watery sound, full of unshed tears. ‘I never thought this would happen to me,’ he said.
The following day, I was nervous about going to the Nayati. I was almost scared of facing Ysobi, sure that my face would betray me. When I knocked and entered his room, he was standing on a stool, watering some plants on a high shelf. ‘Hi, Jass,’ he said. ‘Get yourself a drink. I won’t be long.’
I went into his kitchen, noticing all the little details of his life: a plate left unwashed beside the sink, a note to himself left on the counter. When I went back into the main room, he was sitting on the floor. ‘I think we should take things easy today. We’ll look into some history. It’s quite interesting to see the ways humans viewed arts such as ours.’
‘All our arts?’ I enquired.
‘Yes. All of them.’
I sat down in front of him. ‘I tried out some of your techniques on Zehn last night.’
Ysobi laughed. ‘Well, you’re commended for doing homework, but he’s hardly a har I’d choose for such work. What were your results?’
‘Nothing much. I just made him fall in love with me.’
Ysobi didn’t laugh at that. ‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘I think you’re very responsive, and one day could be a hienama of arunic arts. It gives you power, and that’s a responsibility. When you can do certain things to a har, take him to places inside himself he’s never visited, it can be misinterpreted. It shouldn’t be used to play with hara’s feelings.’
‘Believe me, I know that.’
Ysobi frowned. ‘Is there something wrong, Jass?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I’m just astounded how little I knew before. Have any of your students ever fallen in love with you, Ysobi?’
‘I make it clear they shouldn’t,’ he said.
From then on, I had to act. Ysobi interspersed ordinary lessons with further teachings of his art, times to which I looked forward with joy and dread. I was always soume, and I wondered if there would ever come a time when he’d teach me the other role. I had to prevent myself from hanging on to him, pulling him into my arms when we’d finished or, worst of all, uttering some embarrassing endearments. As the weeks progressed, I fell for him more and more, an endless fall into a black pit. I loved everything about him: his humour, the way his face moved, his voice. I’d thought him strange-looking to start with, but his appearance had grown on me so much he was now the most beautiful har I’d ever met. He taught me how to store arunic energy for later use. He taught me how to control my body, but not how to control my heart.
As for Zehn, he was a casualty of Ysobi’s effect on me. Superficially, we maintained a bantering friendship, but I could sense his pain. He had resolved to stifle his feelings, and it was a terrible fight for him. In some ways, it was good for him, because I knew he’d used many other hara, with little regard for their feelings. I hoped that now he would take more care, and understand the fragility of the harish heart. I couldn’t be so cruel as to initiate anything between us again. It would only make things worse.
It was the gossip of Jesith that something had happened between Zehn and me. Minnow was delighted and pressed for details I would not give. Vole only gave me a sorrowful glance. ‘Zehn is hurt,’ he said. ‘I know he has his ways, but he’s a good har, really. Everyhar likes him.’
Other hara were amused by the fact that Zehn had met his match. This included a good percentage of the broken hearts he’d left in his wake. The redhead he’d been with when I’d first arrived, Fahn, said to me, ‘It’s about time he had some of his own medicine, Jass. You did the right thing. You were the only one who could. It wasn’t as if he was just a free spirit; he wanted hara to adore him. He’d make you feel that way, then he’d walk away from you. I still think of him.’
I didn’t want to hear these disclosures, even though I liked Fahn and we were becoming good friends. Zehn, it appeared, was no longer a free spirit, although you’d never have guessed that to look at him. I didn’t notice any discernible change in his behaviour, but I congratulated myself on the fact I might have taught him something.
Summer was fading, and Sinnar’s hara applied themselves to the harvest. There was so much to gather that often I worked late into the night. An air of celebration filled Jesith, building up to the great festival of Shadetide, the onset of winter.
My training was still progressing well, and I sensed a connection between Ysobi and myself that went beyond mere teaching. Was I imagining it? Sometimes, he looked at me in a certain kind of way, and I couldn’t help wondering, but despite this there was also a barrier that stopped me overtly flirting or saying anything obvious. When we practiced arunic arts, he was still academic about the whole thing. I couldn’t make up my mind whether he liked me or not, and there was no way I could discuss it with anyhar else. I felt sure my friends would somehow disapprove. Having a crush on my teacher seemed embarrassing and juvenile.
I had only one clue to go on, which gave me hope. One time, at the height of aruna, he said my name. It was like he said it to himself, not to me. His eyes were closed. I said his name too. He opened his eyes and looked at me, and I sensed I should have kept silent. He dismissed me early that day. I think he was furious with himself, but that had to be a good sign, didn’t it?
Every night, before I slept, I fantasised about him. My dreams were not of aruna, but of conversations, meaningful ones. I invented a thousand different ways for him to tell me he loved me. In these fond imaginings, I was always in charge of the conversation. I said clever things, and occasionally made him weep. It was a pathetic exercise.
Still, my feelings weren’t going to go away, and I realised finally that if I didn’t act in some way, I might go mad or say something really regrettable.
One afternoon, as I prepared to leave Ysobi’s room, I said to him, ‘Do you never go out, Yzzi?’ By this time, I felt it was safe to call him that.
‘What?’ He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that you spend all your time working, meditating, and so on. I think it would do you good to let your hair down once in a while, if only slightly. Why don’t you come for a meal tonight at The Leaping Cat? The food is the best there.’
He grinned. ‘Are you offering me an invitation to dinner?’
‘Yes. Well?’ I think my heart actually stopped beating for a couple of seconds.
He narrowed his eyes, although he was still smiling. ‘I don’t usually socialise with students.’
I laughed in what I hoped was a convincingly carefree manner. ‘Oh, really, Yz! It’s a meal. I like your company. Is that so bad?’
He considered for a moment, then said, ‘Oh, all right. Why not? What time?’
I thought I must have acted extremely well over the past months. ‘Come by my place around 7.30.’
‘OK… Where do you live again?’
I told him.
When I left the Nayati, I could barely believe he’d agreed to meet me. Was there a sign to be read in this? He didn’t socialise with students. That meant he saw me as different.
When he turned up at my house, he looked different. Gone was the robe. He was dressed in a dark shirt of soft linen and leather trousers. His hair looked clean, flowing over his breast. The sight of him melted me. ‘Well,’ I said in an ironic tone. ‘Clearly this is an occasion for you.’
He laughed. ‘You were right. I should be more in touch with the community. Thanks for asking me to come.’
‘My treat,’ I said. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of overtime, so I can afford it.’
And it all went very well. We arrived at the Cat early, so we could get a good table, with a view of the street. I ordered everything he said he liked. We gossiped about other hara in the town. We laughed.
Around nine o’clock, a group of my friends came in and among them
was Zehn. He came over to our table, and pulled a face at me behind Ysobi’s back as if to indicate: what the hell is he doing here? ‘There’s a band from the Shadowvales playing at the Pool tonight,’ he said. ‘Everyhar’s going.’
‘I heard,’ I said.
‘We’ll save you a place. Come over when you’ve finished your meal. It’ll be packed. A lot of out-towners will show up.’
I screwed up my nose. ‘Well, I’m kind of busy tonight.’
Zehn’s eyebrows went up. ‘Busy?’
‘I’m spending the evening with a friend.’
Zehn frowned quizzically. ‘Who? Can’t they come too?’
I turned to Ysobi. ‘We could go over, if you’d like to.’
Ysobi raised his hands, shrugged. He looked cautious. ‘I…’
Zehn laughed loudly. ‘No! I don’t believe it! Don’t tell me you’re out on a purely social level, Yz.’
I had never seen Ysobi look embarrassed, and the sight of it made me angry at Zehn. ‘Yz and I are spending the evening together,’ I said. ‘We might come over later. We’ll see how we feel. OK?’ I bared my teeth at him in a fierce smile.
Zehn stared at me for a moment. He wasn’t laughing now. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘See you.’
After he’d gone, Ysobi scratched at his hair and rubbed his face with both hands. He kept his fingers over his nose for a moment, eyes closed.
‘Don’t mind him,’ I said. ‘He lacks manners.’
Ysobi shook his head, reached for his glass. ‘It’s OK.’
‘No, really. Zehn is jealous, that’s all.’
‘What of, Jass?’ Ysobi drained his glass.
I didn’t say anything.
‘Look,’ Ysobi said, ‘maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.’
‘Why not?’
‘I make it a principle not to socialise with my students, you know that. I hope you also know why.’
I folded my arms on the table top. ‘Perhaps you should tell me.’
‘Because of the nature of my work. Jass, I…’ He rubbed his face again. ‘Look, I can’t get into relationships easily. It would be difficult for any har I’m with. My work is intense sometimes, you know that. Hara find that… problematical. I have to be there for my students, always, and that would often be at the expense of anyhar who shared my life.’