by Tanith Lee
‘Well,’ he said, ‘she just left us, my father and me. Like she left Venn.’
‘Yes.’
‘I have to get used to that. I saw her buried, Claidi.’
‘It must have been another of those lifelike dolls she’s so good at making – like the one she left with Venn, that he and I found in the village in the jungle.’
‘No, it can’t have been a doll. My father held her in his arms, I saw him, after she was – when she was dead. And I hugged her goodbye. I was ten. I know I was hugging her. She was real flesh and bone, Claidi. Just – dead.’
Another long silence.
I said, ‘She’s a bitch.’
He looked at me.
‘All right. I won’t argue with that.’
‘Sorry,’ I said.’ I shouldn’t have said that to you. It’s just – her games – and this is only another new game.’
‘I have to find out,’ he said, ‘what it is.’
I started to say something else, but he held up his hand. Then he turned and kissed me gently.
We walked down and mounted up again and rode for another hour or so.
That was it, really.
None of us was at the mansion for long after that.
Nemian and Moonsilk left in their ostrich carriage soon after Winter told Nemian to get lost. (I have wondered about the ostriches. Before I ran away from the City, having destroyed the Law, I’d passed a few laws myself. One had been to bring in animals and care for them. So were the ostriches – and M’s cat – down to me?)
Apart from meals, the rest of us still kept pretty much apart.
Venn and Argul were very polite to each other. Venn and Dengwi were very chilly to each other. They really seemed to have taken a dislike to each other – why? (And I’d thought her so sensible and self-controlled.) I suppose we were all het up.
To me, Venn still didn’t speak (and still doesn’t) beyond the unavoidable, like: ‘Oh, hello, Claidi.’
I had one almost-conversation with Winter. She was lounging around, looking fabulous, brushing her short raven-black hair and painting her perfect mouth mauve in her milkwhite face. She suggested she and I go for a fly in the rain ‘eh, Claid?’ I’m afraid I replied, ‘In that lip-colour? No thanks.’
Perhaps I should have been nice, but she’s so overpowering. Worse now, because she is demonstrating to everyone that Venn is her Conquest. But I think he isn’t.
All this lasted only one day, and then we’d made up our minds – apparently (I mean who had? I hadn’t), and we all went out to Yinyay. And then it was most of them trying to make out Yinyay was just another house – or vehicle – and only Ngarbo admitting, ‘Quite a place,’ and Winter flying up and down inside Yinyay, throwing sticks and dog biscuits to Thu, nearly driving him nuts—
And now we are all up here together in the air. Wonderful.
Ironel didn’t wave us off. She took to her bed. (Like last time in the Wolf Tower.) Ert told us she sent her regrets and good wishes.
Perhaps this time she did feel ill or upset. Of all of us, maybe, it was the worst for her, suddenly finding out her long-lost genius dead daughter was alive a world away, across the vast southern sea.
Venn spoke to me today.
How I wish he hadn’t.
I was in Yinyay’s library, and he strolled in, looking much better, and as always now, very elegantly dressed.
‘The weather’s improving,’ he said, ‘do you think so?’
‘Yes,’ I said. Then, as that sounded a bit short, added, ‘I like your shirt.’
I felt I ought to be friendly to him. We’d been friends. Kind of. Anyway, it was an error.
‘Thanks,’ said Venn. ‘Well, here we are.’ Sitting on the table, swinging one long booted leg, looking dashing and irresistible.
‘Winter not with you?’ I asked.
‘Winter is having Yinyay fit her for seven hundred elaborate garments.’
So had he, I thought.
He said,’ I gather you’re responsible for landing me with her. Claidi, I ought to be angry with you.’
‘You ought to be thanking me,’ I said, ‘she’s marvellous.’
‘Oh she’s all right to look at,’ he said. ‘But if I’d had any fond feelings for her, which I didn’t, I’d have lost them during the balloon ride.’
I thought, Ngarbo didn’t. But then Ngarbo has known her probably since they were children. He makes allowances, or just doesn’t care.
Venn gave me one of his swift intense glances, so uncomfortably well-remembered.
I had the uneasy sudden idea he now put on his best clothes, endlessly washed his hair … for me.
Was this self-centred of me?
‘Claidi,’ said Venn, ‘you and Argul – you don’t seem, how shall I put this, quite together.’
He is no longer taller than Argul. They’re the same height. Apart, Venn really does look so like him. But different.
‘How are Treacle and Grem?’ I asked brightly.
‘Fine.’
‘They didn’t mind your leaving?’
‘There’s much more going on at the Rise these days. Jotto keeps throwing parties. A real social swirl. The villagers come and go. Treacle’s taken up with a boy who can grow thick striped fur all over himself.’
‘Like a vrabburr—’
‘More like a badly-upholstered wasp.’
‘You don’t approve.’
‘Well. I didn’t think he was good enough for her.’
He is possessive of Treacle then, too.
And still of me?
‘If she’s happy—’
‘Are you?’ he asked.
‘Yes. If it’s any of your business.’
‘Claidi, come on. It is my business.’
‘Why?’ I unwisely said.
He told me.
‘I don’t give a damn about Winter Ridiculous Raven. And I didn’t beg you to send me a replacement love-interest, Claidi. You’re the one who pushed into someone else’s business.’
‘Yes. But she’ll have told you why—’
‘Winter and I were meant for each other? Tower rubbish. For God’s sake. It was you—’ he broke off He cleared his throat and said, staring earnestly at a large book on soap-making, ‘It was you I – you were the one, Claidi. You still are. You are the reason why I came on this jaunt. Not for her – not either of those women – Winter, let alone Ustareth. You.’
‘I don’t want to hear this.’
‘That is rather silly, isn’t it,’ he said in a drawl, ‘you listened to it when I said it to you before. All right. You’re with him. But has that worked, Claidi? Because if it hasn’t—’
‘Of course its worked!’ I shouted.’ He’s my husband, I’m his wife. If you spoke to Winter at all, she’d have told you how we were – and are.’
‘She did. She went on and on. The Peerless Partners, in two unmatched sets: You and Argul, her and me. But she isn’t the one.’
I got up and edged by, allowing a lot of room between us.
But he didn’t try anything. He’d lowered his eyes.
Then, as I reached the door, it opened and Dengwi came in.
‘Oh, charming,’ snarled Venn, looking violently at her. ‘This place is becoming like market-day. It’ll be standing room only soon.’
The library is quite large. I thought, How many market-days has he seen, he led such an isolated life at the Rise—
But Dengwi really surprised me, meeting his eyes in a long, cold, lit-up glare.
‘I didn’t know, Prince, the library was exclusively yours. You should put a notice up.’
‘Yes. What would it say? Keep out all unwanted bores.’
‘Er,’ I said.
But Dengwi said, ‘That would rather defeat your purpose, Lord Prince, since you yourself would be the least-wanted arch-bore.’
It was like watching a ball game. I looked one way at her, then at him, then back at her, as they said some nasty and sometimes quite clever things to each other. But in
the end I thought they wouldn’t ever stop, so I made my getaway.
Later I said to her,’ I know he was rude, but—’ And she tossed her head like an angry horse and said, ‘He’s not only rude, but royal all through. I can’t stand his kind.’ And walked off (on her hands) before I could feebly defend him. I mean, he is a bit like that. He was pretty insufferable to me before he decided to like me. And I suppose she is extra sensitive to that too, after the Lorio stuff.
Tonight at dinner, I wanted to ask him what he disliked so much about Dengwi (apart from the fact he perhaps thought she interrupted before he could say something really devastating to me). But he sat there looking grim, and I thought he might take my question as me trying to resume our Talk. So I kept quiet. He did say something about Dengwi though, loudly and the moment she walked in. ‘Here comes the Queen of bloody Night.’
And off they went again.
Maybe it gives them something to do. And Ngarbo and Winter something to do, being the audience, though eventually Winter starts to look furious as well, since Venn was paying Dengwi all the attention, and Winter really likes a good argument herself. It’s not my problem.
But I don’t know what to do about Venn, I mean the way he was with me. I feel sorry for him. And at the Rise – almost so much more … And he’s probably desperate now about Ustareth. And – he spoke to me, and Argul – doesn’t. So do I slap Venn, or try to be unromantic friends?
After they’ve really said good-bye, people should never have to say hello, again. There’s a lesson there too for Ustareth.
The bad weather is now only in here. Outside, the skies are blue. At dawn and sunset, gold and vermillion.
I can see this, as we’ve slowed right down. That made me afraid we were already approaching – there.
I braved it and asked Yinyay if U’s scientific route map now tells Yin we’re getting near.
And luckily Yinyay says it will take many days yet.
I’d said to Argul, one night when we were alone, and as usual not talking much, ‘Do you understand this thing about none of the Power jewels, or Yinyay, being any use when we reach this other country?’
‘Perhaps.’
When he didn’t go on, I said scratchily, ‘She must just have done it to test us all again.’ (I try hard not to say to him things like that, or that way, about her, but can’t help it.)
Argul said,’ It may not be that. Sometimes, if there’s one very powerful forcefield, it can spoil any others.’
‘What’s a forcefield?’
He did try to explain. I didn’t get it really. (She had told him about them, of course.) They are areas of – well, force, created by machines. Something like that?
Yinyay no longer knows anything helpful about Ustareth. (She can only find her now because of Ustareth’s supplying the route – on a bead we had to feed into a tube Yinyay produced.) Her forgetfulness is Venn’s fault, of course. He made Yin, the moment we found her in the jungle, wipe away all her knowledge of U, who had made her. Thanks again, Venn.
However, I went and asked Yinyay, now, if we were slowing down because of a forcefield. ‘Yes, Claidi,’ she softly replied.
We’re not even in sight of this – continent, Yinyay calls it. And even so, its forcefulness is draining Yin’s.
Yes, it is.
At dinner the food was cold and the wine had gritty bits in it.
Later Winter, doing one of her take-offs from an upper gallery, nearly went plunging to the marble below. Ngarbo sprang and caught her. They landed in a heap on the next gallery down, untidy but unhurt.
Then she tried to charge up her Power amber from the raven chip she brought with her. And it didn’t do a thing.
We had a meeting and discussed this.
The discussion led nowhere except a shouting match. We were all involved, but Argul. He just got up and walked out. I suppose I’ve seen him do that with the Hulta, with his men, when he didn’t think it mattered. Why, though, doesn’t he be ‘leader’ and take charge of us all? Yes. He can’t be bothered, can he.
After a while, I walked out too. Dengwi followed me. From the look of things, I’d thought she’d have preferred to stay scoring points off Venn.
But, ‘It’s tough for you,’ she said to me.
‘Yes. For Argul it’s worse, though. And for Venn.’
She didn’t frown. Just said, ‘They’re both really this woman – Ustareth’s – sons?’
‘They are.’ I told her the facts quickly, and she listened. Then I said, testing her, ‘Didn’t Jizania tell you about Ustareth?’
Dengwi hesitated. She said, ‘Not much. She didn’t tell me that much, Claidi.’
‘Just a couple of things.’
‘That’s right.’
We walked on along the corridor, which, like all of them, has attractive panels of (what looks like) semi-precious stones set in the walls.
‘Look,’ she said idly, ‘jade. In leaves.’
‘I wonder what happened,’ I said, ‘to Jade Leaf?’ we both finished.
Then we looked at each other.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but I wanted to trust her again. I did once. And now I feel I can’t quite trust – I don’t know, anyone. I don’t include Argul. Of course I trust Argul. I do.
‘Dengwi, what else was it that Jizania told you, the thing that bound the two of you close together?’
She dropped her gaze. (Like Venn.)
‘It wasn’t exactly that it bound me to her,’ said Dengwi. ‘More that I felt bound to her because she’d told me.’
‘And?’
‘Claidi—’ She looked hard at me again. ‘It was something I believed, and now I don’t know if I can, after the other thing – the stinking thing about Lorio being my father. I have to think, Claidi. It’s what I’ve been trying to do. Until I can make up my mind if that first piece of information is true, I don’t want to tell anyone. I don’t want to tell you.’
‘I see. Right.’
‘You don’t see, you think I’m being suspect. What can I say. Give me time. I promise,’ her eyes concentrated on me as they had that day at the House, when she said I mustn’t be whipped,’ I will tell you, when I know in my own mind.’
And with that I have to be satisfied.
And with all – this.
And the glory of the sunset furls away into the opening arms of night.
OLD MOTHER SHARK
Soon after next day’s sunrise, Yinyay dropped into the sea. Quite a splash. The last of her powers kept everyone, including Thu and the horses, unharmed. Not even a bruise. A lot got broken otherwise. I think Yin had to choose whether to lose things or lives, and luckily chose us.
This is like what happened last time, in the Star. The crash landing, and then – going it alone?
We sat in the rubble, really shaken up, all of us – you can imagine – as Yinyay bobbed, upright like a huge cork in the ocean.
We had been warned (thank you, Ustareth dear). But hadn’t expected this so quickly, so completely.
Yinyay spoke to us.
Her tone was musical and quiet, but easily heard, as always.
Soon you couldn’t hear her though, for the noise of people yelling. Thu started to bark, too.
When all that subsided, Yinyay had ended – I mean her voice had apparently ceased working.
‘Oh well done,’ I said. ‘The last thing she could tell us, and you made sure we missed it.’
‘Claidi, always so well-balanced,’ sneered Winter, ‘always patient, never raising her little voice—’
‘Shut up!’ I bawled.
Argul said, ‘I did hear the last part. Everything has stopped functioning. Nothing’s wrong with Yinyay, only the edge of a greater Power source has rubbed out her own. The same with the Power jewels. They’re dead. As Ironel already told us would happen.’
They all began yowling and cursing again, all but us and Dengwi. But she’d never been given any Power jewellery to let her fly, or open doors, or prevent someone stabbing
her in the back. She hadn’t got so she depended on it. (And you do, very quickly. Even I had, to some extent.)
Argul drew me aside.
‘Yinyay added that she’s still able to shrink herself. That’s what they missed. She said, once we’re all out of here, she’ll do it. We can put her back in the carrying pouch.’
‘Great. That’ll be a real help.’
‘It’s all we’ve got, Claidi.’
‘I know. I know. That’s why I sarcastically said Great.’
And I wished we weren’t rowing, too, as we seemed to be. He had that old look from long before, back in the Hulta camp – exasperated at me – but without that other look the exasperation had had, then, what had that been? Love?
Has love just run down – stopped – its power drained by this force field of Ustareth?
Then there was a bump. There among the smashed chunks of marble and splintered chairs and confidence, we gaped in alarm.
The bump came again, to show us we hadn’t imagined it. Then all Yinyay went into a dire sea-heaving tumble, this way, that way.
‘A storm?’ asked Ngarbo, looking unkeen.
The light coming in at the cracked windows was still clear.
We crawled over the rolling-about mess, and gazed out.
Sky and ocean were streaming sheer blue. Empty. Not a cloud in sight.
Then, there was a cloud.
It was a carved-looking cloud, deep navy blue, and tall, since it rose in layers like terraces out of the sea in only one place, but also it was moving, getting nearer and larger all the time, and as it did this, the waves sprang away before it, and banged hard against Yinyay, making Yinyay pitch and roll.
The horses, brought down from the stable, started to neigh. I floundered to them and found Argul and Ngarbo had done the same. We pulled them into a huddle, keeping them as steady as we could, telling them it was all right. Which they didn’t believe, and nor did we.
Thu stood guard over us, his eyes burning.
What was it out there?
I thought that, just before one whole area of Yinyay yawned wide open in the most fast and appalling way—
The sea rushed in.
We must all have reacted, but there was no time, because next second we were off our feet, scooped up by the water, swept out into the open sea—!