by Jane Baskin
“I don’t know. What difference does it make? It’s a novelty for me, and I’m bored.”
“Oh.”
“Won’t you take me?”
Nayan, suddenly thinking: What do you need me for? You can go yourself. You know where it is. But also … huh? Wanting to take her out to the garden, through the tunnel. Wanting to stand behind her, holding her cloak, so she didn’t slip on a patch of ice and tumble to her death. Wanting … what? She can go alone. But … she shouldn’t. It’s dangerous.
“Okay. We’ll go. But wear a heavier cloak than that.” This is crazy. She’s crazy. I’m crazy.
Meeting a few minutes later in the small library annex that bordered the walled garden. Nayan, seeing her come into the room at a quick pace. Smiling. Smiling? Yes, all gods, she’s smiling. Her hair loose, some caught in the cloak, some waving around her face as she moved. Brushing the hair out of her eyes with a gloved hand, beginning to laugh.
“You’re pretty cheerful for someone about to freeze her ass off.”
A laugh. “It’s crazy, but I think I like the winter. It’s so … different for me.”
Nayan, shaking his head. Donning his heavy cloak. Pulling up his wool mask. “Okay, let’s go.”
Out the heavy door, into the garden. Memory, hitting them both in the face with a mean slap. But then … how? … dissipating. Just floating … away.
Huh?
Suddenly, both stopping. Standing still. The feeling of being somewhere else. Some other time. A time in which there was no fight, no memory. And nothing bad had ever happened.
Nayan, all at once afraid of slipping into one of his trances. Fight it. But … so difficult. Managed to look sidelong at Zoren-te. She – what? Staring into the air before her – probably (like him) not seeing anything. Her eyes, widening, seeming unfocused on anything in particular.
Could it be possible?
Was she weird?
Like him?
Could it be?
A couple of times … I could swear I heard her thinking …
Then Zoren-te, shaking her head. To clear it; he was certain. Inhaled the frigid air.
Snapped to attention himself. No. It can’t be. Forget it. “Don’t do that. You can actually freeze your lungs. Pull up the mask on your cloak.”
“Yes sir.” A laugh.
“You have a lot to learn.”
She, turning to look at him. Already her cheeks and nose, red from the cold. A bit of breeze, getting over the walls, ruffling her hair.
Had understood – almost dispassionately – how pretty she was. But now … noticing how beautiful she could be.
A flash of annoyance.
“Come on, we don’t want to be out here too long.” Put his hand on her back, lightly, just to guide her. Moved her forward, across the yard, to the tunnel entrance.
Let her go first. “Be careful at the other end. It’s slippery.”
She: off, like a rabbit. Drawn by the crashing of waves against the cliffs, echoing and loud here in the tunnel. Nayan, moving fast to keep up with her. The little fool ‘ll probably run right off the cliffs.
But emerging at the tunnel end, she: stopping dead. Staring, just staring at the sea. Had never faced it. Had always seen it sidelong, from her window, just a piece of it. Another small piece of it, visible behind the castle, on the trek back from the forest. Like a painting. But this: the full, whole sea.
Stretched out endlessly. Zoren-te: a gasp. Had never seen – or could not remember seeing – such a sight. Like a great angry animal, greater than anything on the planet. Heaving and roaring, slamming against the cliffs in ultimate rage. Whitecaps, further out. Endless blue-black rolling.
Nayan, emerging behind her. Standing close, ready to grab her if she did something stupid. But she: motionless. Nayan, becoming curious. What was she looking at? It’s just the sea. Then peeking around to see her face.
Zoren-te, bewitched. Her eyes above the wool mask: frozen in reverence. Misting slightly with salt spray from the cliffs. Beginning to water from the damp cold.
Or was she weeping?
Tried to see what she was seeing. Nayan: had grown up right beside this savage sea. Had listened to its roar from his bedroom window. Had never imagined not having the sea beside him, not living next to an animal wilder than anything imagination could conjure. But now, watching her … tried to see it anew. Tried to understand what it might be like, if he had never seen the ocean. Watched closely. Tried to understand.
How many minutes passed?
Trancing? Nayan wasn’t sure. But something: holding them both. Nayan’s conscious mind, telling him to turn around. Go. Stop breathing this frigid air. Our eyes ‘ll freeze. Our skin … But another mind within his mind – the one that frightened him – telling him: Stay. This is a miracle. Have you been sleeping?
And knowing – knowing – she was next to him. Before him. Behind him. In trance with him. Timelessness, threatening to kill them both.
With a mighty effort, wrenched himself free. Put both arms around Zoren-te, pulling her backwards into him. “Zoren, if we stand here much longer we’ll freeze to death. The wet cold is worst of all.”
She, turning inside his hold, for a brief moment pressing her face into the warmth of his cloak. Then pulling her head back, looking straight into his eyes. Nayan, noticing her eyes were the color of shallows in summer.
“It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen. You’re lucky, Nayan. You’re so lucky to live here, to have grown up here.”
Just a moment of awkwardness, realizing they were standing in a hug. Nayan, stepping back gallantly. Leading her through the tunnel, through the winter-ruined garden, into the warmth.
That night, Nayan: more fevered dreams. But had not been drinking before going to bed. These, just personal hauntings.
Kept seeing/feeling a flash of red inside fur. Inside his furs. A red dancing doll, spinning inside his embrace. Wrapped in his furs. Relishing his warmth.
Something different, when he saw her the next day, in the library. Did she look different? Feel different? What?
Noticed she had brought her heavy cloak. Would she ask him to take her to the cliffs again? To see the sea again?
Knew she would. Had brought his own heavy cloak. Knew this was going to happen. Huh?
Reading for a while, talking for a while. Then – oddly? – rising together. Wordlessly, heading to the smaller library, the one that bordered the garden. Donning their cloaks; heading outside.
The wind: harsher today. Swirling even inside the garden walls. The ocean’s hard growl: mightier today. Nayan, ducking his head into his furs, pulling up the mask inside his cloak. Pulling up the hood of his cloak. Looked over at Zoren-te. She too, struggling against the cold. Thought maybe they should forget the sea and go back inside.
She, turning to him quickly. Her face, filled with disappointment. Heard her say – sure he heard her clearly – No, please Nayan. Just for a minute.
But her lips had not moved.
What? I could have sworn she said –
I did. I didn’t think you’d hear me over the wind.
Zoren – ?
Yes. I’m here. Please take me through the tunnel Just for a moment. Just a moment.
He: still as a statue. Staring at her, wide-eyed. This isn’t possible.
I’ll explain later. Took his arm. Motioned with her head toward the tunnel.
Shook his head to clear it. This isn’t happening.
It is. But it’s not important.
At her urging, took her arm. Steered her toward the tunnel. Realized the wind was blasting straight through it. Got in front of her, leaned into the gale. Felt her grab onto his cloak, following.
In a minute, emerged onto the cliff. Nayan, pulling her around beside him, holding on. This wind could smash her into the tunnel face like a child’s toy.
I’m okay.
Not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Nayan, leaning into the gale, holding onto the girl tightly. Tears st
reaming from his eyes; hers as well. Watched her watching the violent water. Knew: she was hearing its bizarre music in some very deep part of her. What does she see? What draws her so?
Everything!
Nayan, feeling his tears freezing on his face. His head aching, as the hood blew back, his hair was blown back off his face; his forehead took the brunt. Looked at Zoren-te. Her face, bright red from the cold.
Turned her, moved her back into the tunnel. She, resisting mildly at first. But knowing: of course he was right. Then both, running through the tunnel. Bursting into the garden. Through it, there. Running into the library annex, slamming the heavy door behind. Gasping for breath.
When they calmed … Nayan, taking her by the shoulders. Making her meet his eyes. “What was that … out there?”
“Thought transfer.”
“That’s impossible.”
Zoren-te, looking shocked for a moment. “You’re joking. My father and I do it all the time. I thought you northerners would be used to it, you’re all so weird.”
Some things: can’t be talked about right away. Have to wait.
So, eventually heading to the great hall to see if tea had been set out yet. Lucky. Yes, tea. Serving themselves, sitting close to the big fire. The first ones in the hall.
Nayan, still in shock. Tried to make simple conversation to save himself: “Did you dream of the sea?”
Zoren-te, turning to him, surprised. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t. I just guessed.”
“What did you dream of?”
Sudden embarrassment. You. “Nothing much. I don’t always remember my dreams.”
“I dreamed of the sea, as if it saw me and was talking to me. It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Shook his head. “I’m so used to it, I guess I don’t notice it much. For me, it’s just there.”
“Oh Nayan! That’s wrong. You’re so lucky … you don’t even know how lucky you are.”
Suddenly looking directly at her. Seeing – what? A young woman, a very young woman. Barely more than a girl. For whom most of the world was already so old. What would it have been like to grow up in the South, as she did? Where everything was defined, determined, set in stone. Where there were no challenges to fix one in the present moment. Where everything was controlled. And she, with her unorthodox opinions. And on top of it all: a mind bender! Had to suppress a shudder.
“You’re right. I forget, sometimes.”
“Well don’t. If you lost your luck, you’d be me.”
“What a strange thing to say, Zoren.”
Suddenly she: staring at the fire. Frozen in –what? – memory? Looking sad.
“Are you all right?”
A sigh. “I’m fine. And I still love my home. And I still miss my father, and I still want to go home in spring. But I’ll never be the same.”
“How is that?”
“Being here … has changed me.”
“I guess it would. Being in a foreign place, not by choice. A place foreign in more ways than one.”
“I’m still furious about the way in which I was brought here; I’ll never get over that. But now that I’m here, and the only thing holding me is the winter … well, it’s different.”
“It’s just about the opposite of what you’re used to.”
“I’m used to people controlling the land. Not the other way around.”
“Maybe that’s why we’re so practical in the North. We know we’re outclassed.”
A light laugh from Zoren. Matched by Nayan. Smiling – together? – staring at the fire. In a few moments, seeming to be lost in the fire’s hypnotic motion.
Exactly where they were spotted by Ilia-te and Dar-agan, coming into the hall for the evening meal. A quick glance between them; then off to the serving table. Nayan and Zoren-te joining them; then others.
Dar-agan, clearing his throat. “So, you two are wearing your heavy cloaks.”
Nayan: “She wanted to see the ocean. We went out through the tunnel.”
“Is that so?”
Zoren-te, her enchantment brimming over. “I’ve never seen an ocean; as you know, Vel is landlocked.”
Ilia-te: “Gods alive, child. Didn’t your parents take you see the southern sea?”
“I was so young … I don’t really remember. But anyway, the southern sea is different. It has shallow shores, and it’s green. And no really big waves; storms are rare.”
“Hmmn.”
General conversation, then. Many people, reminiscing about adventures at sea. Most of them frightening. Che, mentioning the joys of sailing – and living through the event. Dar-agan, recalling days when big ships put into the deep harbor at Rhymney, under sail. How there was the start of a navy … how the project was abandoned, for lack of need. No enemy dared the northern sea. Plus, the straits from South to North: too narrow, too treacherous. If a ship survived the passage, it then had to survive the northern sea.
Gwildan, barely listening. But Zoren-te, fascinated.
So … not really a surprise when she approached Nayan much later, in the library. When most people had already gone to their beds. He: developing a habit of reading before bed. Made him sleepy. Knew he could take the book to his room, but loved the library. Where Zoren-te found him, sipping tea.
“Nayan, I want to see the ocean again. I want to see it at night.”
A sigh. Closed his book. Looked up at her. “Zoren, it’s even colder and wetter at night. Maybe in summer.” Of course realizing at once: she would not be here in summer.
“Even if I were here in summer – which I won’t be – I don’t want to wait.”
“You never do, do you?”
“I guess I’m the impatient type.”
A sigh.
“Please, Nayan.”
He: knowing that letting her go alone at night … infinitely more dangerous than in daytime. The patch of ground at the end of the tunnel: too small for someone not familiar with it. And at night: probably covered with a thin layer of ice from all the spray.
Another sigh. “Do you have your heavy cloak?” A nod. “Okay then. But this time, I mean it. Just a minute.”
So over to the library annex, through the heavy door. Into the garden. Nayan, slowing his step for a moment. Unbidden, a shudder. Like the garden was alive, and about to assault him with its memories.
Shook his head, made for the tunnel. Thankfully, no major wind. Pulled a high powered electric lantern from the rack on the tunnel wall.
Then there. Oh, look. The mad sea, in an especially bad mood this evening. Nayan, recognizing the unique competing tides: for which the northern sea was famous. When the planet’s two moons were in exactly the right position … Even in the moonlight, the faint lantern light, the whitecaps: everywhere. And the sound. Even louder than in the afternoon. Each massive roll hitting the cliff with such savage force: seemed as though it would tear off great unwilling chunks of rock, then swallow them whole.
Nayan: “This was a stupid place to build a castle. I suppose in the old days they thought it was a good defensive position. All three castles were built with the sea at their backs. But this cliff is only part of what it once was. Water is so powerful. It never stops. One day this cliff will be gone, and Cha-Ning Castle will be swallowed by that ocean.”
Zoren-te: no answer. Her eyes in the torchlight: almost as wild as the sea itself. Nayan, staring. What did she see? What was the draw, the ineffable attraction this wild ocean held for her? She’s so young. So am I, but she’s barely more than a child. And a restless soul. Maybe that’s why the sea talks to her.
I have no idea why it talks to me, but it does. And I’m not a child. I’m older than you can possibly know.
Can you always hear my thoughts?
Sometimes. Here … always.
All gods.
Nayan, feeling caught up in a web he could not understand. Feeling so many things; among them guilt. Remembering his mother’s words, her passion on the subject. F
orgive me, Mother.
Feeling also, the wildness of the ocean. Had grown so used to it … but really, it was astonishing. Did he ever wonder, as a young boy, what terrible, wonderful forces drove it to crash upon this wall of rock? Again and again; making miniscule results that could be measured only in millennia, but never ceasing, never discouraged? Rage eternal? Power immeasurable, without end? Holding all life – and death – like a tiny pebble in its restless soul.
Looking over at Zoren-te, utterly enchanted. She, catching his eye. A smile. It’s magic. I look at this, and I know magic is real.
A sidelong smile from Nayan. Well, we’d better go in, before you magically turn into an ice statue.
A smile from Zoren-te, in return. Thought to her: You smile more, lately. It’s not my imagination.
Back through the tunnel, into the little garden.
Where she stopped. Crossed to the wall where he had pinned her, stared at it. Oddly quiet, on this side of the tunnel. The roar of the sea, an echo, now. Zoren-te, just staring. Then: “Nayan, I know you were ordered to do the deed, but who was it who gave the order that I should be killed?”
Oh.
Did he think he would escape? Did he think what happened somehow did not happen? Would just slip away, be forgotten?
Like a rotting worm that had festered in his soul for all these months, suddenly rising on its own gases into his throat. Barely squeaked the words out: “It was my idea.”
When did the fury start? When did the truth slap them both in the head so hard that the tiny piece of beauty starting between them ran for its life?
In the library annex, her rageful cry: “How could you?!”
His own anger in response; quickly turning to shame. But no voice for it. Passed a gloved hand over his face. Lowered his head, let his hair fall around his face like a curtain. Finally able to look at her.
“It made sense, at the time. Or so I thought. As I told you, I was wrong.”
“You wanted me to die! You!”
“I wanted you to disappear.”
“Why? How could you possibly be so vicious?”
She, turning to run. Tripping over the heavy cloak in her haste. Angrily taking it off. Which gave him time to catch up. There, on the stairs. Reaching for her hand.