Lady of Dreams

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Lady of Dreams Page 12

by W. R. Gingell


  On the last day of the week, hoping to see something of Jessamy and not attending to Eun-hee, who was trying to talk to me, I let the Dream pull me in again. Instead of seeing Jessamy, I found myself in Yong-hwa’s rooms, where Yong-hwa and Ae-jung were kneeling together at his table. Scattered stave paper littered the table, broken up by the occasional bottle of ink or pushed up by a hidden Contraption pen. Yong-hwa was filling a Contraption pen for Ae-jung from one of the ink bottles, the ink a clear green shade that was very pretty. He obviously didn’t trust his concentration while Ae-jung was there, because he filled a second for himself without reaching for his Energy model pen.

  “You can make a fair copy of this first,” he said, passing a few sheets of elegantly written poetry to her. “I’ll write out a few pieces on the stave paper for you to study when you’ve finished that.”

  “Oh!” said Ae-jung, clearing a space for her clean paper and powder. “Is this for that music? The piece you wrote for the girl you like?”

  “Dae,” nodded Yong-hwa, his eyes wandering over her face. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

  I tsked below my breath and said aloud in Scandian, “Playing games again, Yong-hwa? That’s not the way to win her. Why don’t you tell her outright? She won’t understand otherwise.”

  “Mwohya?” said Eun-hee. She hadn’t taken the trouble to learn a single scrap of Scandian, which suited me very well. “What is it you said, Clovis?”

  “Nothing,” I said, confining my tsk-tsks to the privacy of my own thoughts. “I’m feeling a little impatient today, Unni.”

  “What has Jessamy been doing this time?”

  “Jessamy? Nothing.”

  “Don’t tell me Carlin is annoying you!” Eun-hee said, in surprise. “Clovis-a, he hasn’t been forward, has he?”

  “Carlin is always forward,” I said, emerging more fully from the Dream and mildly pleased to find that I could pour tea for myself. “Why would that annoy me?”

  “I’ve no idea,” said Eun-hee promptly, “but impatience in a woman usually means just one thing: somewhere or other there’s a man irritating her. How lovely! Clovis-a, who is he?”

  I gazed up at her in vague astonishment. “Unni? What are you talking about? Who would I meet like this?” I waved a hand in the general direction of my legs and sat back with my teacup clasped in my hands.

  Eun-hee’s thoughtful gaze didn’t leave me, and if I were properly capable of feeling uncomfortable, I would have been squirming. “I’ll have to think about it,” she said. “Clovis-a, since when have you held your teacup like that?”

  I looked down at the fingers that were curled around the teacup and blinked a little. There was a faint frown between my brows as I said slowly, “I don’t know. It’s . . . warm.”

  “Yes, but you don’t feel the cold,” argued Eun-hee.

  “I know. I’ll have to think about it.”

  The next morning during breakfast, I was visited by a scene of chaos. A Dream pushed through the breakfast things, and I found myself in the courtyard of the boardinghouse amid haphazardly stacked piles of luggage, instruments, and random dressing cases that had been secured so badly as to spill their contents across the stonework ground. Adding to the confusion was the suspiciously dark smoke from a Contraption overland puffer and a smaller, quieter vehicle that looked as if it could be a Contraption model but wasn’t quite.

  “Ah,” I said. “Is it that day, then? Carlin, is today the day that Jessamy and the others are supposed to arrive?”

  “Madam said Master Jessamy would arrive today,” said Carlin’s voice faintly through the puffing of the Contraption Overlander. Then, in a tone of deep suspicion, “Who are ‘the others’?”

  “Ah, that?” I thought about it for a moment, then said in Eppan, “Trouble, and a little bit of entertainment.”

  Carlin said, “You do know I speak Eppan, miss?”

  “I do, Carlin,” I said, watching Hyun-jun prowl through the baggage with an air of frustrated dislike. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well—I mean—” Carlin’s voice stopped, and then started again with an edge of indignation: “Then why did you say that in Eppan?”

  Ah. And there was Yong-hwa exiting the boardinghouse with Jessamy. Jessamy was laughing, his head thrown back, and Yong-hwa was faintly smiling. Behind them, Ae-jung carried an armful of Hyun-jun’s bound-up papers; if I had to guess, I would say it was she who had carried the ridiculous sum of Hyun-jun’s baggage down into the courtyard.

  “You sounded so suspicious,” I explained to Carlin. “I thought we were acting out a spy stage drama. My delivery was quite good, wasn’t it?”

  “You—” Carlin’s voice stopped and then began again, a little higher: “Miss! You were teasing me?”

  “I’m sure I’ve done it before,” I said, watching Yong-hwa quickly and efficiently separate his luggage from Hyun-jun’s. Jessamy helped and hindered in equal parts by loading any bags that came within reach into Yong-hwa’s vehicle, including a few that I was fairly certain were Hyun-jun’s. Yong-hwa removed them with the patient air of a man removing his slippers from the sharp, careless teeth of a puppy.

  Carlin’s voice, cutting persistently through the surface of the Dream, said, “No, miss. I would have remembered.” More insistently still, he repeated, “Miss, who are ‘the others’?”

  “I told you,” I said. “Trouble and entertainment. Shush, Carlin. Things are about to get interesting again.”

  I heard him protesting, but I was too interested in what was happening in the Dream to pay any more attention to him. I drifted a little above the scene as I’m wont to do, to where I could see both inside and outside the courtyard. Inside, Ae-jung packed baggage into Hyun-jun’s Overlander with a lack of expertise that left me quite certain she would have to unpack and repack several times before she managed to fit everything in. Jessamy and Yong-hwa contentedly went on with their divergent efforts to load Yong-hwa’s vehicle, and Hyun-jun continued to stalk through the baggage like a particularly offended owl.

  Outside, though . . .

  I felt a small smile begin to form on my face. Two women were mincing along the wall of the courtyard, their destination very obviously the boardinghouse, and I was certain that one of those women was the smiling woman. She wasn’t smiling now, the stonework lane outside too unpleasant to manage in the pointed, high-heeled boots she wore, but seeing her in context recalled her to my mind.

  “So that’s it,” I nodded. I’d seen her at my father’s offices that night, going through Ae-jung’s office, and now I knew why else I remembered her. “You were the one who came to see Hyun-jun that time. Se-ri-ssi. What trouble are you hatching this time?” Was she attempting to come along with Hyun-jun? She had no luggage, but I wouldn’t put it past her to go along with him by trickery and buy a wardrobe when she arrived.

  “No,” I said thoughtfully, “you’d already have sent your things on ahead. You wouldn’t risk not having the right clothes. Do you know Eun-hee well enough to invite yourself, then?”

  If so, it was bad taste on Eun-hee’s part. I watched thoughtfully as Se-ri stopped at the turning into the courtyard and took a moment to smooth away the annoyance on her face. When she had erased all traces of displeasure and straightened her Scandian-style shirtwaist, she allowed a friendly smile to form quite naturally and beckoned her companion forward.

  “Caja,” she said, mincing into the courtyard.

  Surprisingly enough, Hyun-jun was the first person to notice the two women. If Se-ri expected a warm welcome, however, she was destined to disappointment. Hyun-jun, a frown deepening on his face, said, “What are you doing here? You’re not coming with me.”

  “Is that any way to greet me, Oppa?” asked Se-ri. She was still smiling, but that smile held a trace of reproach. “I heard that you’re travelling out to Eun-hee today.”

  “How?” demanded Hyun-jun with unabashed annoyance. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

  Se-ri waved an airy hand. “Someone must have
mentioned it.”

  “You mean you pried it out of someone,” muttered Hyun-jun. “Who is this? She’s not coming, either.”

  The other girl smiled with all the vivacity but none of the art of Se-ri, and said playfully, “You wouldn’t make me walk home, would you, Hyun-jun-ssi? Se-ri and I were passing by and she said she was sure you wouldn’t mind dropping us at our apartments on your way out of the city.”

  “Did she?” said Hyun-jun, looking as though he did mind. “You’d better get in the Overlander, then. Don’t squash my things.”

  They obeyed with an alacrity that made me think they were afraid he would change his mind, Se-ri’s friend clambering over luggage to settle herself carefully in the back seat. Hyun-jun paid as little attention to the mauling of his luggage as he did to her flutterings as she tried to avoid squashing her brightly coloured skirts, and was insensible to the claims of either girl to be helped into the Overlander. Se-ri, after waiting several minutes for him to notice her and offer his assistance, climbed into the front seat with a smile that was just a little bit tight.

  That did get Hyun-jun’s attention. “Climb in the back,” he said. “That’s Ae-jung’s seat.”

  “She can’t fit in there, Hyungnim!” protested Jessamy. “Ae-jung, you’d better come with us. You can sit in the front seat with Yong-hwa; you’ll be able to see the whole country from there!”

  “I want to work on the way out,” snapped Hyun-jun.

  “That sounds like a pleasant way to spend the journey,” said Yong-hwa. “But Ae-jung-ssi might not find that comfortable.”

  “She’ll be more comfortable in the Overlander than in that thing,” retorted Hyun-jun, jerking his chin at Yong-hwa’s vehicle. “It’s too small.”

  “Yes, but we have less luggage,” said Jessamy. “Anyway, Ae-jung can’t type while you’re bumping over roads and lanes. Nuna, you want to come with us, don’t you?”

  Ae-jung, unaware of Hyun-jun’s machinations to have her accompany him and aware only that if she travelled with him, she would be subjected to the discomfort of too much luggage and too many other passengers, said happily, “Yes, I’d like that.” To Hyun-jun she said apologetically, “You don’t mind, do you, Hyun-jun-ssi? I’ve never been driven in an Energy model before.”

  “Why would I mind?” snapped Hyun-jun, his nostrils flaring. He stalked away to his own vehicle and threw the rest of the luggage in without heeding the vague screams of the two women inside, who were squashed and rattled to within an inch of their lives by the sudden onslaught of bags.

  Yong-hwa and Jessamy, on the other hand, were decidedly cheerful. On Jessamy, this cheerfulness took the form of prancing around Ae-jung and telling her all the things she would see and the places they would pass on the way to Eun-hee’s estate. On Yong-hwa it took a much quieter form: he made sure not to shut her dress in the door and put a folded travel rug on her lap. His face was as serene as it ever had been, but there was a warmth to it that was more telling even than Jessamy’s wild, puppyish display of love. I had never found his face particularly hard to read, but this look was something else. If I wasn’t very much mistaken, Yong-hwa and Jessamy had more than just a love of music in common; I was certain that this was also the first time Yong-hwa had been in love. At first it may have been simply that his interest was piqued, then his sense of humour engaged; finally, in the midst of protecting her and playing games with her, he had fallen in love with Ae-jung. He probably hadn’t even realised it at first, though he certainly seemed to have realised it now.

  Three of them. I laughed softly to myself. Jessamy, Hyun-jun, and Yong-hwa. All three of them were in love with her. And she, poor thing that she was, had fallen in love with the most difficult one of all.

  “What a pretty mess,” I said to myself. “I think I’ll enjoy playing with you all.”

  Yong-hwa’s Energy model left first, packed to perfection and with Jessamy hanging perilously out the window to wave his arms and whoop at pedestrians. Hyun-jun was some minutes behind them, still packing his Overlander and ignoring the discomfort of his passengers until the job was done. Once they had embarked, he threw the Overlander viciously into gear, the Contraption machine jerking forward in a way that threw both girls’ heads back into the cushioned seat back with a decided slap.

  And as Hyun-jun puffed by me in a cloud of steam and brooding infuriation, I saw the small jar of mint leaves and the flowered cushion go flying into the street from his open window.

  6

  I’ve never told Eun-hee what I can do. Does that sound strange for a woman who is my only female friend? It doesn’t seem strange to me.

  She’s never asked, you see. She knows something, but I’ve never clarified and Eun-hee has never bothered me with questions. She simply takes me as I am, without either qualm or question.

  If you were to ask me why Eun-hee likes me, I couldn’t answer you with certainty. But if you want to know why I like Eun-hee, insofar as I’m capable of liking anyone—well, that’s simple. She takes me as I am, cold, insensible, and frequently absent, and doesn’t try to understand me. She simply sits with me for as long as it suits her, and when it doesn’t suit her any longer, she goes away.

  Mwoh? What about Carlin? Well. I’m not exactly sure how much Carlin knows. I know that he thinks I see visions. He does ask questions, but he’s always there to help when I need him, so I don’t mind.

  Will I ever tell him?

  Well.

  Perhaps.

  I don’t know.

  ***

  I drifted in and out of Dreams while the two vehicles made their journey from town to Eun-hee’s estate. I don’t often get to experience the phenomenon of travel firsthand, being chiefly concerned with my Dreams, but since I haven’t found that it’s any special pleasure to experience it secondhand, I paid only cursory attention to their progress across the countryside. It wasn’t particularly easy to push away the Dreams, but I made the effort that day. Despite that, I found myself restless and inclined to be vaguely irritable, settling to nothing and pleased with nothing. There was a feeling of building weight about the place, something like the suffocating mugginess before a storm, and although I was used to feeling heavier when Jessamy was around, I hadn’t yet had that heaviness visit before Jessamy did.

  When Carlin came in with my lunch, I was awake enough to tell him, “I’ll go out in the gardens tomorrow, Carlin. Make sure that one of the lighter walking dresses is pressed, and match a pair of shoes with it.”

  Carlin hesitated, then said, “Are you sure, miss? Mistress Eun-hee’s footmen say it’s going to be very hot tomorrow. What about the library instead?”

  “The library will do, in that case,” I sighed.

  “Miss?”

  “Never mind, Carlin. I’m feeling out of sorts today. If it’s going to be hot, make sure I have fruit ices to hand. And a fan.”

  “Yes, miss,” said Carlin, folding his hands and lapsing into a silence that was almost as heavy as the day.

  I looked up at him in surprise. “Why are you looking so injured?”

  “It’s nothing, miss. But I can fan you as usual tomorrow.”

  “You could,” I agreed, “but Jessamy will probably be with me, so I won’t need you.”

  “Yes, miss,” said Carlin, his face lightening.

  “What, did you expect someone else to be doing it?” I demanded, mildly amused. Even if he had thought so, it was no reason to look at me with that reproachful face. “Anyone would think it’s your one joy in life to tend to me!”

  Carlin said something that sounded like “You’re the only one who doesn’t know it,” under his breath.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said that Master Jessamy will be here before you know it,” said Carlin. “Which of your teas would you like unpacked, miss?”

  “All of them, of course,” I said. “But if you mean which one particularly for tomorrow, I think the Blue Box will do nicely. Jessamy likes that one. Make sure you bring Eun-h
ee’s larger teacups this time.”

  “Master Jessamy was a bit distressed last time,” agreed Carlin, very commendably repressing a grin. “Shall I lay out the lunch, miss?”

  “Mmm,” I murmured. The Dreams were becoming stronger, flashing a panoply of moving scenery around the room as though I were in one of the vehicles currently making their way toward Eun-hee’s estate. It was slightly sickening and more than a little distracting. “As quickly as possible, I think.”

  Carlin laid the lunch things with dispatch, but despite that I managed to make it only halfway through the meal before I was dragged into the Dream against my will. Mercifully, the scenery had stopped moving by then; Jessamy and Yong-hwa had made a stop for what seemed to be the sole purpose of feeding Ae-jung. At least, she was the only one eating, while Jessamy plied her with the choicest pieces of a well-stocked lunch box in his most puppylike manner and Yong-hwa did much the same in a more sedate fashion.

  “And still she’s oblivious,” I said. “Now all we need is Hyun-jun to complete the tableau.”

  Apparently we were to have him. I could feel the faint tug of another focal point somewhere up the road, but even if I hadn’t been able to see it I would have seen the furious dust cloud that was presently tearing along the lane that cut through the hills. It could only be Hyun-jun.

  In that case, I was quite resigned to my fate. I allowed the Dream to settle around me until I couldn’t hear Carlin clearing away the half-eaten lunch, nor his mutters about my lack of sustenance, and arranged myself where I would have the best view of all parties.

  If I had attended earlier to the Dreams that tried to pull me in, no doubt I would have been aware that Se-ri was still with Hyun-jun. Since I hadn’t, I was fully as surprised as the others to see her stepping out of Hyun-jun’s Overlander when it pulled up with a screeching lurch, accompanied by far too much dark smoke. Hyun-jun must have driven the whole way at that same breakneck pace in his attempts to catch up with Yong-hwa, because when Se-ri exited the Overlander she did so with a white-fingered grip around the edges of the door and not even the pretence of waiting for Hyun-jun to open it for her.

 

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