The Shifu Cloth (The Chronicles of Eirie 4)

by Prue Batten

  ‘Yes, Nicholas. Did you not want to talk to me? Is this not why you have come here?’

  ‘Yes, it is…’

  She sat down beside him, acknowledging Chi.

  ‘Lady Chi Nü, it is a long time since I have seen you, although this time under regrettable circumstances. I must say I believe the Celestials of the Han were harsh in their punishment of you for we are all guilty of watching mortals. For some of us,’ her expression told a truth. ‘It is almost an obsession.’

  ‘But then,’ an accented voice drifted from beneath the leafy foliage. ‘You did not have to go without clothes whilst you enjoyed your obsession.’

  White shadows drifted between the trunks and the Fox Lady appeared, her furs draped around, dragging across the ground.

  ‘But Kitsune,’ said the Moonlady. ‘Neither did you. Your furs, like my midnight clothes, are part of your existence.’

  ‘Indeed. But then I did not vote for Chi Nü’s punishment to be so severe.’

  She touched Chi and the Lesser Celestial stood, folding her hands into her cuffs and bowing.

  ‘I thank you, Kitsune,’ she said softly.

  ‘I think,’ Kitsune replied. ‘That you and Nicholas have the same idea, that you are here with the same purpose. Am I right?’

  Chi Nü nodded.

  ‘Then,’ said the Moonlady. ‘Make your case…’

  ‘If I may, I shall speak for Nicholas, even though we can all mindspeak,’ Chi Nü said and Nico stood with her, his arm under hers and she did not pull away. ‘This plea deserves to be spoken aloud, to be heard, for the words to ring around the grove and even fly to the heavens.’

  She tipped up her head briefly toward Nicholas, almost as if they were making eye contact and he was struck by the earnestness of her expression.

  So good, so kind…

  ‘Yes, she is,’ said the Moonlady. ‘A worthy woman, Nicholas…’

  Kitsune sighed.

  ‘Please, may we get on?’

  *

  ‘My Celestial Luminaries,’ said Chi. ‘Nicholas and I plead for Isabella’s life. The power to reverse death is a power reserved for Greater Celestials and for the Mother and I know it has rarely, if ever, been used. But Isabella is so loved, my ladies. Her death will kill her mother and that alone is a sore thing. Ming Xao will forever carry the guilt of Isabella’s death because she will have died saving him and such grief will reduce his qualities as a great leader of the Han. Phelim and Gallivant will become bitter and perhaps the worst side of an Other’s nature will emerge in them both. And Nicholas…he has been a twin to Isabella since they were babes. She is his other half, her death will reduce him, as is evidenced by his sadness this year past. People have faded away for less.’

  ‘You ask us to use the power of divinity, Chi Nü, a power that must be sanctioned by Aine, the mother.’ The Moonlady spoke kindly and Nicholas recognised the tone and was glad of it, despite her words. ‘Don’t you think that over time, that same plea has been made again and again? And denied? There is a season, Chi Nü, for everything and perhaps Isabella’s time is nigh.’

  ‘I cannot believe that.’ Chi became animated. ‘Why should she have gone through a frightening abduction, a year’s imprisonment and slavery, a dangerous escape – all to die when she has found freedom, when she has learned compassion and empathy? Why should her family have suffered for a year and then be made to suffer for eternity? This is not just about Isabella’s time, or seasons turning as you say…’

  Nicholas spared a look at the Celestials as Chi became more impassioned. That she spoke his every thought and his every word he could not deny and he wanted to…

  ‘No, my ladies,’ her voice lifted, the oratory hanging in the air like the words of a legend in the making. ‘This is the time for the Celestials themselves to show the true meaning of compassion, to show mortals that they can be prevailed upon to understand and help. If they cannot do this…’

  ‘Then you do not wish to be considered a Celestial yourself,’ Kitsune finished.

  ‘Yes,’ whispered Chi Nü. ‘But I am of little use as a Celestial since my punishment so it matters not.’

  Nicholas could no longer stand still, he grabbed Chi’s hand and squeezed, mindspeaking to the two Greater Celestials.

  ‘This woman could have pleaded for mitigation of her own sentence, she could have argued her case. Instead she has taken her punishment calmly and with acceptance, and proved to be an incomparable friend to the mortals she has watched and loved all her life. More profoundly, she has taken Isabella’s cause and argued it eloquently and with heartfelt emotion. She is the kind of Celestial the world of Eirie can value. The kind that makes the word ‘celestial’ resonate across the Heavens. I underline her plea with my own. Let Isabella live. I will trade my life for my sister-cousin’s.’

  ‘Nicholas,’ the Moonlady took his free hand and stroked it and he calmed a little. ‘There is no need to trade your life. Aine and the Celestials do not require a life for a life. I can tell you, Aine the Mother would grant your wish for free. She has said that this decision must be mine and Kitsune’s to make…’

  ‘Then make it! What do we have to do to convince you?’

  ‘Nothing beyond accepting that the power of life must be given by three Celestials, not two and that no other Celestial would vote to help us. We are the only ones.’

  The Moonlady squeezed Nicholas’s hand in an apology.

  ‘No!’ How he wanted to shout aloud. ‘No! This is wrong.’ He ripped his hand from the Moonlady’s grasp and grabbed Chi, spinning her round to front the two Celestials. ‘Here is your third. A greater Celestial than all those of whom you speak. Use her. Chi, tell them.’

  ‘I…’

  ‘She thinks she cannot because of her punishment,’ Kitsune said. ‘And she may be right. We have no time to find out because your mesmer fades, Nicholas of the Færan. Isabella is on her bed as we speak. She tells them it is tiredness after the long journey and they accept her reasoning. But we know that this time, there is no waking. That in the morning when they knock on her door, they will find she has passed away.’

  ‘Then please try. Please! Chi?’

  ‘Of course I will try. There is nothing to lose.’

  Nicholas hugged her and her arms enfolded him.

  ‘Where?’ Nico asked.

  ‘It can be done here.’ The Moonlady’s eyes caught Nico’s own and he bathed in their light. ‘But Nicholas, you must leave us. It is a sacred rite between Celestials and not for the eyes of mortals or even Others.’

  He let Chi go, stepping back, unsure.

  ‘Please,’ Chi said. ‘Trust them.’

  *

  He didn’t look back, just walked on along the path toward the lake, hoping against hope for Belle’s life.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Isabella lay on her bed, a rug pulled up by her mother, her cheek warm with Adelina’s kiss.

  She had fooled them all.

  Even Phelim with his Other abilities. And Gallivant. Funny, astute Gallivant. All of them had believed she was merely tired.

  She had been prevailed upon to tell them much and she had, describing everything in detail, the beauty and the abomination. Throughout it all, she vaguely wondered where Nico was and assumed that when he and Ming Xao disappeared to the library, that he stayed to show Ming the machinations of that amazing chamber. It was certainly Nico’s form to disappear to the books or Jasper’s workroom. She hadn’t worried unduly, nor had the others. It was as though they all reverted to form the minute they were back in each other’s company.

  Chi had disappeared as well. She would have liked Adelina to talk to the Celestial as she was sure they would be kindred spirits. Over the years, Adelina had made much of those sorts of connections.

  But there would be time tomorrow.

  For those left, anyway…

  *

  The pain began to climb as Nico’s mesmer faded.

  It rolled like thunder, lightning flash
es throughout her limbs precipitating a great crash and then she would bite on her blanket because if she didn’t her screams would echo to the Goti Range and back. Cutting and splicing and cutting again…

  She tried to disconnect from the pain – it was the only way, focusing on her breath as Chi had taught her. In and out, in and out. It seemed to be working, the pain easing from her legs.

  But no.

  When she went to move them, they were immobile.

  Dead.

  And her arms, heavy, unable to lift.

  Oh please no! Not yet!

  She wished she had someone to sit with her as she moved to the other side, to hold her hand, to talk to her.

  Kitsune!

  She was afraid, lonely – frightened of the unknown, of the dark – of leaving.

  Her hands, stiff, no movement, unable to wipe the tears that crept from the corners of her eyes.

  The paralysis flowed on with the speed of a flood tide, taking all sensation before it. She could be glad of that if nothing else, the speed. A painless way to die…

  But no!

  Her breath rasped. She sucked with frantic breaths. Try as she might, not enough air entered her lungs, and no matter that she knew she should be breathing, she could not. She gasped and choked, panic filling her heart and mind.

  The flood tide covered her.

  She drowned.

  *

  Is this death?

  She floated, eyes closed, as if she were underwater in the ocean. She had always loved swimming underwater – a different world, quiet, soft colours; one where the harshness of the world was unapparent and where weightlessness was not just of the body, but of the mind as well.

  Unbelievably fatigued, she let go.

  *

  Sometimes, she thought vaguely, it pays to just let go. She remembered an old saying, but couldn’t remember who said it. ‘Don’t bend the river.’ Probably Jasper. It sounded like him. And so she let things flow around and over her. No regrets, no tears. It was such peace and she was glad.

  Until the Caointeach howled, piercing even her state of somnolence.

  *

  Something began to pull her back from this deep place in which she existed. She knew at some point she would have to think on it, puzzle it through, but later, much later.

  Some strange notion draws me back. Feather light.

  Something pure and kind and altogether strange – something that defied a description but which she knew she must allow to happen.

  At first she felt her hair, all tangled around her, then her arms as she moved them to pull her hair away, then her legs as she shifted them under the covers. She dared to open her eyes and the afternoon light had thickened to the colours of dusk – apricot and mauve lay along the edges of the window and one of Jasper’s doves walked back and forth on the sill in distress as the Caointeach’s howl echoed from a not-far distance. The bird’s head bobbed and danced and finally the creature flew off, its wings making that curious clacking noise, as if a dozen twigs had snapped beneath its anxious feet.

  She dared to push the cover back, swinging her legs to the floor in case this was a dream bought on by Death. But everything was hard and substantial and she wondered what eldritch thing had changed her fate. She closed her eyes, thanking Aine for the chance she had been given, wondering where she had gone for that short time, and resolving to think on it a long time hence. Not now. Now she was alight with life and wanted to revel in it. Hearing frantic footsteps downstairs and a crash as something fell to the floor, she hastened to the door.

  ‘By the stars,’ she grumbled, walking down the staircase, eyeing floral mess across the floorboards. ‘If there is one thing I did not miss, it is the cry of the Caointeach. Awful creature! I was in the heaviest sleep.’

  Nicholas looked up, his face at first distraught, but then he grabbed her off the third last step and swung her round, his expression alive with joy that warmed her through.

  ‘Can anyone join the party?’ Poli asked cautiously, wandering up the hall. ‘Is there an occasion to be marked?’

  ‘Nico seems to think so, Poli. It would appear the Orchard has performed its magick.’ She grabbed her messy hair and plaited it quickly, throwing it over her shoulder, slipping her hand through Poli’s arm and through Ming Xao’s, dragging them to the kitchens. ‘Find Chi, Nicholas! Now we can truly celebrate. I am home!’ She shouted the last word wanting to underline all that was wonderful in her life, the life that had been returned to her. She pulled at the interlinking arms. ‘Let’s find some of Margriet’s elderflower wine, it’s the stuff of joy!’

  But in a shady back corner of her mind, as the Caointeach’s howl died away, she wondered.

  Who had it been crying for?

  *

  The gardens were lit with luminous white flowers that Jasper had loved for their nightly glow. Fireflies danced amongst the leafy branches and whilst they were beautiful, Belle fancied the garden would benefit even more from paper lanterns and small bells. The Siofra, friends from her childhood and confidantes of her later years, played music. Harp chords and flute trills, lute plucking and tabor tapping…gentle melodies that allowed conversation and laughter.

  Now her heart could warm, when previously it had been frozen in some dreadful play-act. She hadn’t allowed herself the freedom to love and be loved back because it was to be so short-lived. But now…Aine! Now she was a sponge from the seashore, soaking up delicious moisture as if it had sat dried on a rocky shelf for a hundred years.

  Phelim spoke quietly in her ear.

  ‘You have more to tell us, I think. More than you would wish us to know.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘But we can wait.’

  And Gallivant.

  ‘That sleep must have done you some good, Izzy Mizzy, because sink me if you are not pure light and life now. Before, you were merely light.’

  He winked and she knew he suspected something had been awry.

  But her mother suspected nothing beyond what she had seen and what she saw. She just sat and looked at her daughter as if she couldn’t get enough of her and at one point, when passing Isabella some sponge cake, one of Margriet’s best, she said,

  ‘I am more than lucky. The colours were right.’

  ‘Colours, Mama?’

  ‘The shifu colours. I picked them out during a Traveller’s fortune-telling. All the same colours meant you were alive. Even more strangely, they were the colours of the shifu that contained your clever message. My darling, I am so proud of you…’

  Belle kissed her and was happy.

  Later, Poli spoke to her when they took a turn about the garden.

  ‘I can see why you felt the desperate need to return, Isabella. I envy you this family. You will never be lonely.’

  She heard the note in his voice, this man who had lost a father and mother and had no sister nor brother. She slipped her arm through his and drew him close to her side.

  ‘Poli, you have earned a place here. Phelim and Gallivant see you and Nicholas as immortal heroes for bringing me home. As for my mother, I think she might bolt the door to prevent you leaving.’

  ‘I think I could cope with staying for a little.’ He smiled down at her, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it. ‘But I must warn you, my lady, I will not be idle.’

  Isabella’s stomach flipped over.

  ‘And I can assure you sir,’ she said, withdrawing her hand and placing it behind her back. ‘Neither shall I.’

  She turned and walked back to the others, fully aware that he watched her as she swayed her hips, and was not unhappy.

  ‘Has anyone seen Nicholas or Chi?’ she asked. ‘He must not miss the celebrations.’

  ‘Isabella, Nico is always somewhere else when we need him.’ Gallivant chided. ‘I bet velvet over feltet that he is parading poor Lady Chi Nü round his vast estate and boring her rigid about which plants heal what!’

  ***

  On dismissal from the Celestials, Nicholas had walked along the shore wit
h a sensation akin to an anchor-chain round his ankles. The sedges drooped over the water and the driftwood lay exactly as he had left it less than a month before. The Lake of Mists lived true to its name, even in the afternoon, a miasma drifting between the shore and whatever lay out there.

  My mother.

  Less charitably another person sprang to mind.

  My father.

  Finding a stump, he sat looking into the fog trying to think of anything but Isabella. He wondered if he could ever forgive his father for the man’s role in Mr. Poli’s death. He had begged forgiveness; certainly he had endeavoured to secure the mother’s and son’s future when he had all but destroyed it. It was a secret that his own son would take to his grave, but the nature of such knowledge was corrosive.

  He remembered his father’s clasp on the island and how it had felt. Not like that of a father so much – if he thought hard, Phelim was surely more of a father than his own would ever be. No, his father was more of a peer – someone with whom he could exchange thoughts and ideas.

  Like Poli.

  And look how much he valued that man.

  Ah, he knew the mystique of Others, their danger, particularly the Færan, and his father had been one such. Abused, alone, the offspring of rape. It was no wonder he had behaved with such appalling lack. But he learned, tried to make reparation, tried so very hard. Culminating in giving his life to save Eirie from legendary malevolence.

  Perhaps I can forgive you.

  His thoughts jumped to Viviane of the Travellers and her words. ‘Whatever has happened to your family and to mine, it has to stop, and you are the only one who can stop it. Do you see?’

  And he wished he could see. Vaguely there was a thought, pushed to the back of his mind in the struggle to find Isabella and return her here to the Orchard. Perhaps now was the time to draw it forth and unroll it. Examine it to see if it was worthy…

  He picked up a smooth stone and threw it so that it skimmed across the water, causing faint ripples, disappearing into the pearly depths of the mist.