the Dark shall do what Light cannot (LiGa Book 2)

by Sanem Ozdural

  “Poor darling!” Cat cried. “Yes, of course you will see him again!”

  Patron gave her a warning look. “Dalga, I want to ask you something: I think you found food in a rock – is that right?”

  Dalga nodded hesitantly. “But it couldn’t have been my brother!” she cried. “He couldn’t have gotten out of the house. It’s not his fault!”

  “It’s not something to condemn,” Patron said calmly. “We’re not trying to get your brother in trouble. He sounds like a very brave and intelligent young man.”

  “Yes, he is,” Dalga agreed proudly. “He’s very smart. He’s going to be Twilight’s Hand–” She looked up, smiling eagerly. “Father and Mother are very proud!”

  “Your father is Twilight’s Hand, right?” Patron asked.

  Dalga recoiled. “Yes,” she said timidly.

  “It’s all right,” Patron said. “We’re not taking you back there. Your father won’t be able to hurt you again.”

  “But he didn’t,” Dalga said, confused. “He wasn’t in the Ritual. He refused. It doesn’t matter, though,” she continued sullenly, “he still wanted me to die.”

  Cat and Father Griffith looked at each other.

  “Perhaps not,” Cat suggested gently. “Who do you think left that sandwich you showed me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Was that the first time someone left food for you?”

  Dalga shook her head, looking intently at her feet.

  “Someone left food every day?”

  “Yes,” Dalga said in a small voice.

  “Who could that be? Your brother?”

  Dalga shook her head vehemently. “No! Mother wouldn’t let him out of the house. He would get in trouble.”

  “No, I’m sure it was not your brother,” Cat assured her. “But who then? Your mother?”

  Dalga shook her head again. She looked up this time. “Mother wouldn’t,” she said sadly. “It was what the Dark One wanted.”

  “Do you know how we found you?” Cat asked.

  “Sofia,” Dalga smiled brightly.

  “Yes, Sofia found you. She’s a good dog. But do you know why Sofia was there?”

  Dalga shook her head. “Why?”

  “Because Twilight’s Hand told us to walk to your side of the island. He met us on the beach when we arrived in the boat, and told us we must go to the cave where you were.”

  “But… Twilight’s Hand is… Father.”

  “Yes.”

  Dalga looked down at her feet. “Father … taught me how to make a splint,” she said imperceptibly.

  “A splint?”

  “Hmm. When my arm broke, I knew how to make a splint,” Dalga explained. “Because Father said I had to learn because he might not be with me if it happened again…”

  “Your father is very thoughtful,” Cat said.

  “But why?” Dalga gave her a pleading look. “Why did he want me to die?”

  “He didn’t, darling!” Cat drew the little girl into her arms. “He didn’t!”

  “Orion!” Patron called out sharply.

  “Yes, Patron?”

  “Sorry to interrupt. I wanted to make sure you were contacting Shady–” she said.

  “I already have,” Orion replied. “I informed him to have the necessary people meet us.”

  “How? When?” Cat looked surprised.

  “You mean when did I contact him?”

  “Yes!”

  Orion shook his head. “I don’t remember exactly. Sometime after we came up here from Patron’s chambers.”

  Cat regarded him narrowly. “This telepathy… it works on people at a distance?”

  “Of course,” Orion nodded. “How do you think Shadow communicated with us to warn of the impending attack?”

  “Well–” Cat stalled, looking skeptical.

  “You don’t quite believe it, right?” Orion gave her a kind, if condescending smile. “That’s all right. Shadow will be our first stop when we arrive in Pera. Then you will have plenty of opportunity to test your belief.

  “However–” he continued, “Shadow is a special case. It can communicate with whomever it wants, wherever they may be – even across the Veil. The rest of us, myself included, do not have that kind of unrestricted access. In order to communicate with another at a distance – and the distance does not matter, so long as both people are on the same side of the Veil – you have to establish a link with the person. I have a link with Shady and can communicate with him whenever I want so long as we are on the same side of the Veil. Shady, unfortunately, is not as – well, he gets confused sometimes–” Orion smiled tolerantly.

  “Poor Shady,” Cat said sarcastically. “What time is it?” she cried suddenly. “Is it time yet?”

  “Almost,” Bruce replied. “I’m about to go down to my quarters to see Sofia. I don’t want to leave her alone during the transfer.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Patron said. “Now, Dalga–” she said, turning to the girl, and using the girl’s new name naturally, “do you want to stay up here?”

  Dalga gave a small nod.

  “Of course, she does!” Cat said. “Come, darling, let’s go and look at the dolphins, shall we?”

  “There are dolphins?” Dalga asked, wide-eyed. “Kaya showed me dolphins,” she said with wonder in her voice.

  “Of course,” Cat nodded. “Come, let me show you. Roland and I have been watching them racing against the ship. They’re winning you know,” she added with a sly smile.

  “Oh!” Dalga ran to the side of the ship and leaned over to watch two dolphins frolicking in the blue waves.

  * * *

  Twilight’s Hand’s wait was over. His duty was done. He retrieved the short horn that he had carried with him since that morning…

  And he blew the horn. A mournful sound that was carried across the island by the early morning wind. It said: Cypress is no more. She is gone. She is the River’s guest.

  Then he returned home, to inform his wife and son that it was time…

  It was time to inform the other islands that Cypress was gone. That she was no more.

  That it was time to perform the ceremony of the Silent Dark.

  Kaya accepted the news without displaying any emotion, as was right and fitting for the son of the Elder-in-Waiting. He was a tall young man, with large, expressive dark eyes set in a fine-boned face. The expression that he wore was one of indifference. It was one he had studied for some time. For when the time came…he must take his place as Twilight’s Hand representing the Island of Birds. And in due course, he decided, he must be worthy to be chosen as the Elder-in-Waiting.

  In time. And if that time ever came, he thought, behind eyes that kept his thoughts safely hidden, there would never, ever, ever be another Cypress Ritual.

  Twilight’s Hand went to the courtyard. “Cypress is no more,” he said to the woman kneeling before the statue of the Dark One. It was a statue of a figure in a dark robe with a face as pale as the moon and eyes as black as Night.

  The woman rose and faced her husband. Upon her face was a smile. It was not a happy smile, and it was not sad. It was a smile that said: ‘what must be done, is done. It is well done.’

  “Cypress is no more,” he repeated. The woman raised her hands to cover her face. Her hands fell to her sides.

  “Yes,” she said, in a voice of complete contentment. “It is done. She was worthy.”

  She was worthy.

  “She was unblemished,” the woman continued. “She was pure.”

  “She is the River’s guest,” said Twilight’s Hand and turned away abruptly.

  The woman returned to her position before the Dark One. She was without blemish… thought the woman, who was the mother of Cypress. It had been her duty to make sure Cypress was trained properly, that she remained pure and worthy. The Elder’s Wife had chosen Cypress at birth. The Elder’s Wife had named the child Cypress.

  Cypress’ mortal form is no more.

  Her du
ty to the Dark One was complete.

  Tonight, after the ceremony of the Silent Dark – the special ceremony that she had never seen, for it was forbidden – the tree containing Cypress’s immortal heart would be planted next to the sheer white cliffs, where all the Cypresses stood, swaying gently in the wind. Some were tall, for they had been there for many, many years. It was forbidden to touch a cypress in anger. They could never be cut down. They were tended to lovingly.

  And Cypress would remain there. Safe. Forever.

  The Dark One had willed it so…

  27

  “Good girl! Now… no, Sofia, wait!” Bruce emerged on deck, barely in control of a most exuberant young Doberman who was straining excitedly at her leash. Bruce laughed. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “It was too small below. There wasn’t enough room in my quarters– No, girl! Sit!” Sofia had changed tactics, and now leapt with abandon upon her master’s shoulders. Bruce was knocked back and almost lost his footing on the top step leading to the deck.

  “Let her go,” Father Griffith said. “Let her run. She needs it.”

  “She won’t hurt anyone, I promise,” Bruce said nervously, unfastening the dog’s leash.

  “Not unless she knocks the breath out of us!” Cat laughed. “Come on, Sofia. Good girl!” she shouted after the dog that shot forward like a bullet as the restraint was removed.

  “I hope Hazel doesn’t come up here,” Father Griffith said, watching the Doberman bound tirelessly from one side of the ship to the other.

  “I knocked on Patron’s door,” Bruce said. “I let her know I was taking Sofia upstairs. She said they were all right in her quarters for now.”

  “I’d hate to see the state of Patron’s quarters after Hazel’s life transfer!” Cat cried.

  “What’s happening to Sofia?” Dalga asked. “Why is she so excited? She seems very happy,” she added, watching the dog bounce energetically around the deck.

  Cat cast a meaningful glance at Father Griffith and Bruce. “She’s very excited because someone gave her something very, very precious,” she said, stroking the girl’s hair.

  “What did they give her?” Dalga asked.

  Cat looked at Father Griffith. ‘I don’t know how to answer that one,’ said his look.

  “She was given life,” Orion said, walking towards the girl.

  “Someone gave her life?” Dalga looked up at him with surprise.

  “That’s right,” Orion replied.

  Dalga looked at the dog dancing happily, and then turned to the sea.

  “Like the waves,” she said quietly.

  “Like the waves that gave you your life,” Orion nodded. “Something like that.”

  Cat gave him a sharp look, as Dalga continued to watch Sofia thoughtfully.

  Orion!

  Orion jerked backwards.

  “What’s wrong?” Cat asked.

  Orion held up a hand, motioning her to be quiet.

  Selcan.

  You are here at last…

  He felt her relief. I am here. What is wrong?

  He felt her emotions: wary and uncertain.

  Tell me, he urged her. Tell me. I am here now… He felt her relax.

  Carl was working on a project when he died. He told me about it: he was testing the properties of the lightseed for underwater lighting. He said he found out something terrible!

  Be calm… and tell me.

  He said he discovered an instability in the makeup of the lightseed when it interacts with water… He said he didn’t understand it completely, needed to do more tests, but he said it might compromise the safety of the Veil.

  You believe Fiona knew? I know you’re worried it might be so. Why? How?

  The project received part of the funding from the mayor’s office. Fiona had asked him to hire an assistant. A White Islander…

  Who?

  I don’t know. I’m sorry.

  Regret. Don’t be sorry.

  I should have asked. I should have found out…

  He felt her sadness like a leaden weight. I am sorry, too, about Carl. But you couldn’t have prevented it. Do not blame yourself.

  Fix it, Orion!

  Orion let out a sigh. His gaze re-focused. He shook his head, perplexed.

  “What was that all about?” Cat demanded.

  “That is something I had not expected…” he muttered. “I have work to do…”

  “Well, what is it?” Cat insisted.

  “That was Selcan. One of the immortals in Pera. She gave me some disturbing information.”

  “Yes, yes, obviously,” Cat waved a hand impatiently. “But what is it?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Orion brushed her away. “I need to think now.” He swung himself onto the bulwark and stood, swaying with the motion of the water, his arms folded, gazing out at the horizon.

  Cat and Bruce exchanged concerned looks. “Let’s ask him after we land,” Bruce suggested.

  * * *

  “They will be here in less than an hour!” Shady said, doing his best to keep his voice even. It was a struggle. Shady was angry: with the cook who had called in sick that morning, with Orion for giving him no more than three hours’ notice… with the results of the test that he had received that very morning. It had not begun as a good day, and did not appear likely to improve in the near future. “No,” he said impatiently to the man standing nervously before him. “We can not substitute your cousin for the cook. It would not do.”

  The man gave him a pleading look. “But, but, sir, the cook is sick.” Shady rolled his eyes mentally. “No,” he said again, this time more tersely. He had already tried explanations. They had not worked. A clear-cut rejection seemed to be the solution. The man sagged. “Now go,” Shady said, as pleasantly as he could, without in any way giving the suggestion that he might, at any point in the future, reconsider his decision.

  If the cook for the LiGa headquarters had called in sick, someone would need to replace her, but it would not be the new gardener’s second cousin – by marriage. If only Orion had given him more notice…

  If only someone had not tried to poison him with a jar of homemade jam…

  If only the Cypress Ritual had not been resurrected…

  Shady sighed and reviewed his mental repository for a suitable – meaning trustworthy –replacement for the ailing cook.

  At least the child had been taken care of, he thought gratefully. That had been easy. One brief visit to Markiza, and it had all been taken out of his hands, and placed in her far more capable ones! She would make sure the proper people would meet the ship and take charge of the girl.

  Cypress… cypress trees seen through a telescope…

  Shady shook his head in consternation. He must remember to ask Orion where they had found the girl. Which island? Would it correspond to the coordinates Carl had written on the piece of paper? If so, how did Carl know? Did he know? But the telescope had been pointed at a cypress grove…

  What will happen now? Shady wondered. Would the patrols on the islands resume?

  His thoughts returned insistently to the problem of the missing cook… Perhaps he could ask Markiza for help, he thought hesitantly. She would not say no, he was sure. Markiza never said no. For that reason, alone, he felt uncomfortable about asking. Markiza would help, and would provide a solution, naturally. “But it is important,” he told himself. “There has to be a cook here who will definitely not poison the immortals.” Markiza would know… Feeling more than a touch guilty, Shady made his way out of LiGa headquarters. Located at the start of the Avenue of the Oaks, it sprawled along the water decorated with delicate white spires and bay windows overlooking the shimmering sea. Markiza and her husband, the Chief Justice Hakan, lived less than a five-minute walk away along the Avenue.

  * * *

  “How are you feeling, Patron?” Bruce asked through the door.

  “Oh fine, fine–”

  “You sound a little … disjointed,” Bruce said tentatively. “How is Hazel? I ca
n take her off your hands if you’d like. I just gave Sofia a good run around the deck. She’s not tired, but at least didn’t seem to mind going back to our quarters.”

  The door opened a little. “Not a bad idea. Thanks,” said Patron as Hazel wriggled through the crack and started jumping around looking very much like a newborn lamb with long floppy ears.

  “You get some rest,” Bruce said.

  “Rest is not what I need!” Patron retorted. “If I had my way, I’d be running laps around the upper deck too, but that would hardly be fitting in my position. I am not a dog. Under the circumstances, I think I’ll just sit it out here.”

  Bruce laughed heartily. “I know exactly how you feel,” he said. “Do you need anything?”

  “Do you have a trampoline handy?” Patron asked brightly.

  “No, sorry. It’ll pass soon, don’t worry,” he added.

  “I should have asked Orion,” Patron mused. “You guys played bridge, didn’t you? Orion played chess. He also got all the life points in one go – like me!”

  “I’ll ask him to come and visit you if you’d like,” Bruce offered.

  “Umm…” Patron appeared to ponder his suggestion. “No, I’m not in the mood for Orion.” She shook her head. “See you in a bit then. Have a nice run, Hazel!” she closed the door with a determined bang.

  * * *

  “Come in!”

  Her voice makes me happy, thought Shady, as he walked into the large and airy living room. It is as pretty as a nightingale’s song. “Hello Markiza. So sorry to disturb you–”

  But Markiza would not hear of it. His presence could never disturb! She rose from a dark green, high-backed armchair by the window and came forward to embrace him warmly.

  “What is it?” she asked, drawing back from him, concerned. “Is there a problem?”

  “Well… only a tiny one– Do you have a spare cook?” he asked apologetically.

  Markiza laughed. “A spare cook? Now, what on earth have you done with yours?”

  “Not for me,” Shady said. “For LiGa headquarters. There appears to be an illness of sorts,” he added diffidently.

  She gave him a searching look. “An illness of sorts?”

  “I need someone trustworthy,” Shady said. “We have guests coming–”