by Mark Hare
***
For eleven days, the ship sailed the high waves of the sea until they reached Sairenji, a great city that lay like a pearl amid an archipelago of craggy, green-mantled islands strung across the blue sea like a random necklace of emeralds. The white-washed houses and buildings, square blocks crowned with red tile roofs, slanted up from the sea, built on rising terraces crowded with flowers and shade trees. The temple, a small square block of white granite and marble encrusted with carvings and murals, nestled on a terrace surrounding by rice fields at the top of a hill near the far end of town. Bane and Kai walked up from the harbor, asking directions as they went. The heat built as the morning worn on. Kai had the sense to dress in a knee-length sheer white cotton robe, a scarf over her head to ward off the sun, the bracelets of her rank jangling when she swung her arms. Bane wore formal clothes too hot for the bright summer morning, regretting his choice before they got halfway there.
They found the sexton eating brunch under a tree in the temple courtyard.
The old priest scratched his head when Bane and Kai asked for the archives. “You are the first ask about those old books in months,” he said, squinting at them over his glasses as he wiped mustard from the corner of his mouth. “A storm last year damaged the library. The archives are in storage. We’re waiting on funds to rebuild...”
“Please, can we see them?” asked Kai, leaning close to touch his arm. “It’s very important.”
The old man softened, returning her smile, sighing as a misty look crept in his eyes as if he remembered something forgotten. “Yes, yes. Follow me. Just remember it’s all out of order. There was never any time to organize it. No one comes here much these days. There’s talk about moving the whole archive to the big island.” He led them behind the temple to a low stone building with few windows, becoming more garrulous as they walked. By the time they reached the building, Kai and Bane heard more than they ever wanted about the old priest’s gout, his fondness for basket weaving, what he had for breakfast, and the merits of different fruits in helping the digestion, all delivered as a rambling monologue so breathless neither Kai nor Bane could edge in a single word. After a brief tour, the priest said, “Go ahead, look around!” and left them to run errands.
Kai and Bane looked at each other. “It’s a good thing Elsu didn’t come,” said Kai. “I don’t think he could have stood two minutes of that.”
“No, it would have been fun watching those two try out talking each other.”
Kai laughed, smiling. “True. Elsu cannot abide someone other than himself as the center of attention – or as the one with the last word.” She looked around the storeroom with its numerous boxes and rows of shelves. “So, where do we start?”
“I guess we go shelf by shelf.”
Kai sighed and pulled a book at random, sneezing from the dust, tilting it to catch the light as she read, squinting to make out the scripts. Bane opened the nearest cedar box and pried out a copper tube holding a scroll, reading the inscription before unsealing it carefully. In the humid salt air, scrolls did not fare well unless protected. “I wish we had time to visit Madripoor. Their archives are unrivaled,” said Bane.
“Elsu would never agree,” Kai replied. “It would add four months to our traveling.”
“I’m sorry you have to help us work the sail.”
“Our crew is so small there wasn’t a choice, no matter what Elsu said. You know, I enjoy it. I’ve never done physical work before. My tutors raised me to be an ornament, something pretty and accomplished.” A wistful quality in her voice made Bane look at her, remembering how she insisted on helping when Elsu told her it was not befitting her beauty or rank. His surprise when she ignored him, marching right past him and onto the ship, had amused Bane and the captain. “When you have people do things for you, it’s easy to forget the real cost.” She held out a hand. “See? I have blisters from the ropes.”
“What a pity. Your hands are beautiful. That reminds me. We need ointment for your hands.” Kai’s look stopped him and he reddened. “I’m ashamed to admit I thought you wouldn’t volunteer,” he said, divining her thoughts.
She grinned. The light was poor in the storeroom so Bane was not sure she blushed. “I cannot blame you,” she said. “The spoiled rich girl, pampered all her life? I never thought of myself as that.” Hesitant, she mulled her next words as if choosing them with care. Bane held his breath, afraid to interrupt, thankful for the rare moment alone with her. “I guess I might have become the selfish, spoiled little girl who demands and gets everything she wants,” she said, looking pensive. “I chose to be different. When things come too easy, you expect them to stay easy. Because wealth or privilege gives you the power to bend people or obstacles your way, you start believing that power is a natural right, something owed to you, rather than an accident of circumstance. I have aunts and uncles who act as if they are all but divine.”
Kai broke off and pretended to read a book, moving so Bane could not see her expression. Undisguised anger ran like seams of hot lava in her words. He observed her, alert to each nuance, knowing how seldom she displayed her real feelings or thoughts. “I...I didn’t want to become like them. I’ve seen them destroy people the way a cat toys with a mouse, acting as if it was a game or...” She shivered. Her voice turned small. “After my mother died, my father was always away on business and his relatives didn’t want to bother with a young girl, so the servants raised me. I saw first hand...I saw a lot I didn’t like.”
“That’s why you worked so hard?”
“You still sound surprised.”
“No, impressed. You kept at it when others would have given up.”
She put aside the book, sought another. “I hope I didn’t get in anyone’s way.”
He shook his head, remembering how she ran back and forth across the deck, her hair braided to keep out of her eyes, working until her entire body glistened from sweat and the sun burned her skin from pale ivory to warm gold, finally collapsing at dusk beneath the canvas tent at the rear of the ship, pausing to rinse the sweat from her hair and body before throwing her naked form across a straw pallet. “No,” he assured her. “You didn’t.”
Kai smiled, looking very young when she did so, and resumed perusing the books. Unable to think of anything else to say, Bane continued searching in silence.
Several hours later, Kai sat down on a box with a heavy sigh. “Found anything?”
“Not much beyond some maps. I hope Elsu and Akahele had better luck at the navigator’s guild hall.”
“I’m hungry. Let’s get some food.”
“You go on. I’ll look some more. I’m sure Elsu will want to leave in the morning, so today is our best chance to find something useful.”
“You’re probably right. Want me to bring you anything?”
“Whatever you choose will be fine,” he said.
“I will hold you to that.” She paused at the door. The light filtered through her dress, showing the shadow of her trim form as she stood with each hand pressed against the doorframe, looking back over her shoulder. “You are really very sweet. I’m glad you are Elsu’s friend. He’s lucky to have you.”
Bane mumbled a reply, feeling unworthy of her kindness, and retreated to the old scrolls and books, watching her from the corner of his eyes as she grinned and shut the door.
Once Bane finished a box, he started another, stopping when his back ached. A hint of drowsiness plagued him as he rubbed his head, yawning, and decided to try one more box before taking a break. The last scroll, an ancient copper tube green with age and imprinted with a seal Bane did not recognize, caught his eye. He opened the end with difficulty. The scent of old paper, must, and mold tickled his nose, making him sneeze. He prized the scroll out of the tube, taking care not to let the fragile vellum crack. Green mold stained the manuscript. Bane guessed water had leaked inside. Because he did not expect to find anything, he almos
t missed the mention of Angor Drava. He began reading. A shadow passed over his heart as he puzzled out the antique script. At the end, he rocked back, stunned, and looked at the wall, finding the room now dark and chill, his heart beating fast like a trapped bird.
The sound of the door swinging open startled him and he leaped up, feeling foolish as he did so. Kai stuck her head through the crack, saying she brought roasted squid from the market if he wanted any. Bane told her he would be there in a moment. She nodded and went back outside.
Bane stared at the manuscript as if it was a dangerous snake waiting to bite him. Sweat cooled on his skin in a clammy, unpleasant sensation. He read the key passages one last time before rolling up the scroll and gently sliding it back into its verdigris container as if it might break apart.
Outside, the sunlight blinded him and the warmth baked him in a hot wind. Kai waved from under a tree, pointing to a basket of food. Bane dragged his feet across the yard, finding it hard to move as if his legs waded through mud. The sight of Kai sitting on the grass happily munching on a roasted squid on a stick triggered a terrible, awful thought. Bane forced himself to remember Elsu was his friend, horrified that he could think of anything so evil. He dismissed the errant notion as monstrous and forced a smile.
However, the thought refused to leave him, whispering tormenting possibilities that haunted him at odd moments, a sly shadow he could not fight, beckoning him toward an abyss he feared even as he longed to leap into it.