“Who was at the conference from the Immortals?” Orion asked quickly. “Apart from Fiona, who else was there?”
“Just her. She represented the Immortals.”
“But then… who represented the blind policemen? Surely, they could not have held a meeting like that without the blind policemen…”
“It was a meeting specifically excluding the blinders,” Shady replied. “We were told the islanders particularly demanded that we be kept away since it was about the patrols that they were there in the first place.”
“Hah! I bet they did!” Cat cried derisively. “Oh sorry darlings, I’m getting carried away.”
“We did protest,” Shady said. “Carl wanted you to be called, as a matter of fact,” he added, nodding towards Orion.
“I should have been called!” Orion retorted. “At least it would have saved his life. Well, so what did Fiona have to say?”
Shady gave him a searching look. “Orion, you know very well why we can’t always call you…” he said quietly. “Anyway,” he continued in a business-like tone, “Fiona told me – told us all at blinders’ headquarters as a matter of fact – that the islanders wanted to assume their own patrols–” Shady paused. “She said one Twilight’s Hand spoke very eloquently and at length –that there would never be another Cypress Ritual, but that their community resented outside interference. They didn’t want the pirates watching over them. It made sense to me at the time,” Shady added, a touch defensively. “Fiona said we needed to empower them. Let them take charge of their destiny… and so forth.”
“Who spoke, do you know? I mean from the Twilight’s Hands. Which island was it?”
“The Island of Birds,” Shady replied. “A Twilight’s Hand does not have a name,” he explained, noting the blank expression on Cat’s face. “He relinquishes his old identity when he is chosen, and is thereafter known as the Twilight’s Hand for his particular island. I recall it was the Island of Birds, because I remember making a note of it – it’s the landmass closest to the Light Veil,” he explained. “I don’t know why, but I thought it was important at the time…”
“The Island of Birds is where the Cypress Ritual was performed,” Orion said. “That’s where you found the little girl,” he explained to Cat.
“If that’s the same man, he wanted us to find the girl. He directed us to her,” Bruce said.
“That Twilight’s Hand – if you indeed met him – must be the girl’s father,” said Shady.
“Yes,” Cat nodded. “She told us her father was the Twilight’s Hand.”
“I remember Fiona urging us to trust this Twilight’s Hand because his own daughter was Cypress…” Shady mused.
“She said he didn’t take part in the Ritual, but still, he allowed it to go forward.” Cat shook her head in disbelief. “And also tried to save her? I don’t understand. Someone had been leaving food for her. She showed us. It was stashed away inside a hole in a rock. I thought it must have been her father. He seemed to be the obvious choice, but then–” Cat paused, looking inquiringly at Shady.
“Most likely,” Shady nodded. “I know something about the Cypress Ritual. After the child has been thrown off the ceremonial rock, the Twilight’s Hand must formally announce that Cypress is no more. This can take some time–”
“What? They don’t know if the child has been drowned?” Cat cried, astounded.
“Well…” Shady hesitated. “You see the White Islanders can’t swim. It’s part of their tradition. They live on islands cut off from the mainland, and they refuse to learn to swim. On top of that, the Cypress Ritual is always carried out during the high winds of Lodos. The changing winds,” he explained to the uncomprehending faces that confronted him. “You never know where you are with Lodos. Whips around from the east one minute and then bears down on you from the west, the next. It has no set direction and can be extremely violent. Ships do not leave shore if they can avoid it during Lodos.
“The Cypress Ritual is conducted during the Lodos winds because it is said to be the closest to a literal reading of Evening Song. The Land’s fear and fury was directionless for he could not see in the dark, so the Islanders chose the wind that blows here and there, and everywhere. That is the common explanation,” Shady added. “Blanca, though, credits her survival on the changing wind. She said Lodos gave her a chance; it gave her the shelter of the rocks when she needed it. Another wind would have swept her away, she thinks…” Shady sighed.
“It’s very interesting what you’re telling us,” Bruce said, “because the girl told us with great pride that her brother had taught her to swim. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it makes sense now… he taught her to swim when no one else could, so she would be able to get away after they threw her off this rock–”
“That is a big deal,” Shady said. “Short of cancelling the Ritual, it was probably the safest way of ensuring that she would likely survive. You see the rock they throw her off is actually quite low. It’s not a particularly bad fall so long as you manage to avoid the rocks. And if you can swim.”
“She was worried about him,” Cat mused. “She said her brother could not have left the house.”
“That’s true,” Shady nodded. “Cypress’s family would be guarded until the announcement of her death. Well, except her father in this case, who is Twilight’s Hand.”
“What happens if they lose the body?” Cat asked. “It is possible that it could be snatched away by waves, isn’t it? The little girl we found decided to call herself Dalga, which I understand is another word for wave. You know, she said she got away because of the waves. She said the waves sent her to the other side of the island. That’s what Blanca must have meant too.”
Orion nodded. “You are right. The body is not always discovered. However, eventually the Twilight’s Hand must announce Cypress’s death so they can perform the ceremony of the Silent Dark for her. And until he does, he has to sit on the Rock of Night – they have one on each of the islands. In fact, all the islands are bifurcated in a residential part and the other section where only the Twilight’s Hands are supposed to go and where the ceremonies are held.”
“So…it must have been her father who kept her alive.” Father Griffith said.
Shady nodded. “That’s what it looks like if he told you to go there and she’d been left food. It’s highly unlikely that anyone else would have been able to sneak past Twilight’s Hand.”
“What will happen now?” Father Griffith continued. “What will happen to the islanders? To that man who must have stood there, on that rock for almost a week waiting for someone to take his daughter to safety? He did not want her to die.”
Cat snorted. “Then he shouldn’t have let them throw her off the rock, should he? He’s not winning ‘best parent of the year’ award in my book!”
Father Griffith inclined his head. “There are things … awful things that people do, but we must not judge them, for we do not know, we cannot comprehend the pressures, the constraints of their lives; we do not walk in their shoes. This man did not wish for his daughter to die. We all saw him. He told us where to find her.” He thought of the tall, lean man with the stoic bearing who had stood silently on a rock, and placed an apple and a chicken sandwich in the crook of a rock for his injured child every day. “What will happen now?”
“I don’t know–” It was Orion who replied. “It will be discussed at length, I imagine. It’s not the sort of issue that can be decided overnight.”
“Who will make the decision?” Father Griffith asked. “Will it be the mayor? The islanders?”
“There will likely be a committee,” Shady said grimly. “There always is when something important happens.”
“I have to go,” Orion said impatiently. “There’s too much to do… too much to figure out.” He shot a meaningful glance at Shady.
Cat regarded him with bemused concern. “Where are you going?”
“To the police station,” Orion replied. “Shady, will you take
them somewhere tonight? Show them around Pera, maybe. I’m not sure how long I will be. I will be in touch with you.”
“Very well.”
With a perfunctory nod to his audience, Orion strode out of the dining room.
“I’m worried about that young man,” Father Griffith said.
“You are?” Cat sounded genuinely surprised. “Worried? About Orion?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, very much so,” Father Griffith replied, a shade defiantly. “He is– well, he can be… a little… unbalanced is the best way I can describe it. Don’t you think?” He looked around the table enquiringly.
Shady scratched his head. “I’ve never heard anyone say they were worried about Orion. Any worry that’s engendered by his presence usually goes the other way, if you know what I mean–” he nodded meaningfully. “But, it’s good, I suppose,” he added philosophically, “that there’s someone out there who is concerned with his welfare.”
“I can see how he might be a loose cannon,” Bruce said meditatively.
“No,” Shady said after a thoughtful pause. “No, that is not correct. Orion is entirely dependable. He is completely reliable and predictable in that he does exactly what he says he will do. He is extremely dangerous, but the threat he poses is of the expected kind. If you expect that Orion may harm you, you can be sure that you will be harmed. He is not a loose cannon. Come on, let’s go out on the town!”
“Where will you take us?” Cat asked.
“I thought we would start at Lola. Everyone loves Lola. It is an institution in Pera.” Shady looked them over with a critical eye. “But you have to dress appropriately. Luckily, even if you haven’t brought anything suitable, each of you has been provided with an adequate wardrobe by LiGa.”
“Really? LiGa bought us clothes?” Cat was startled. “How would they know our sizes and more importantly, what we like?” She glared. “I really mean me, of course,” she added. “I don’t suppose they – or anyone – would have much trouble with dear Roland here, but me? I am quite particular about my wardrobe, if you must know!”
Shady smiled. “I am sorry. I hope you like what we’ve provided, but it was meant as a palliative measure only. Just to see you along until you had a chance to go out and choose your own…”
“The men are easier, I do think,” Cat murmured. “They might have asked me. Or at least Blanca, for instance–” She appeared thoughtful. “No, not Blanca. She would not know my taste. Much too rigid. It’s all that chess, I think.”
“No, of course not,” Shady said quickly. “As a matter of fact, it was Markiza who helped. She gave broad directions, of course. We do not presume–”
“Markiza? That was the woman who took our little girl from the ship?”
Shady assented that this was so.
“Hmm. Well, we’ll see what she’s come up with, shall we?” Cat sniffed, but the tension appeared to have left the shapely back that faced Shady. Markiza might know what she’s doing, thought Cat. She appeared to be a woman of taste and discernment.
31
“Ommmmm…….”
She exhaled for four counts. Her back straight as a board, she sat cross-legged with her hands, palms up, on her knees. Feeling irritable at her stiffness, she took a deep breath and exhaled again, “Ommmmmm…..”
The room – her living room – was illuminated by several candles, and the heavy scent of incense wafted over her. She missed her old self: the one who did yoga all the time, the one who could relax…She missed home where there weren’t any light trees. There was good old electricity to light a home and gas for the car! The incense and the candles were also reminders of her world. The one she could not go back to! She took another deep breath and exhaled. Relax, she told herself. Relax, Fiona…
Safe. I am safe here… she told herself. She had purposefully chosen to live on Mira Island. Had not taken any of the LiGa properties. It was her choice. Choice was the LiGa way, wasn’t it? None of the other immortals lived on Mira Island. Well, that was their choice. Here, during the winter – yes, winter, thought Fiona spitefully, not the stupid dormant season – the island was virtually empty as it was largely a resort community. There were beautiful homes all over the island. The architecture was the same as in Pera except that the homes tended to be larger, and sat amid gorgeous gardens and acres of Red Pine trees. Her house was at the top of the hill.
The only transport between the island and the mainland was by ferry. It was a short twenty-minute trip, but during the winter the last ferry left the mainland at 10 in the evening. She would be safe tonight…could sleep at peace because he wouldn’t be able to get to her… “Relax,” she told herself. Relax the arms…let them flop by my side…relax the neck…the muscles are taut with stress. Hang the head … the chin to the chest…and twist the neck, roll the head clockwise...
Relax the shoulders…let them hang, let them rest…
He cannot come here tonight…
His hands will not be on the shoulders. Such strong firm hands. The memory of those hands …Never again!
“Ommmmm….” She screwed up her eyes. Concentrate on the point between your eyebrows! Focus, Fiona… relax…
No, not Orion! Relax…
But he would intrude, wouldn’t he? He always intruded. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? At least leave me alone, Orion! Pitiless man. Cruel. You’re the cruelest man I know! You’re a dog. Bastard. I hate you, Orion!
No, you must relax now… because he is here…But not here, not on my island.
She rose slowly to her feet and bent her knees and reached forward. Concentrate: this will help. Straighten the legs …stretch the heels to the floor for Down-Facing Dog. Heels used to reach the floor, she thought disconsolately, feeling constrained by her own muscles. I used to be supple… I used to be nimble…I used to be…happy.
He liked that. A smile hovered conspiratorially for a moment before fleeing as she remembered.
No, he merely said he liked it. He lied! They say he doesn’t lie, but that too is a lie! I know. He lied to me… I thought… Stop thinking about him!
But he’s here, you see, and that’s not good. Orion’s trouble. He could spoil everything. And all I want is to go back home. That stupid pirate: why won’t she take me? Bitch! He’s got her wrapped around his little finger too, of course, she thought with venom. He does that to everyone. They all love him and they can’t see what a sadistic, lying bastard he is. Or maybe they can, and they don’t even care!
I was such a fool! I can’t believe I fell for his lies, his pretty words… his smile… And even that night I thought… he cared because he took off his knives! I didn’t even know he carried knives on him. Not until that night, but after, how can you forget? I thought it meant he was opening up to me; he was letting himself become vulnerable… for me… Fool! He just didn’t want to get into bed with a bunch of knives! Or maybe… because he wanted to show me those knives…
And after? Whenever you see him, you know. And you can’t look at him the same way, and when you’re alone with him, you know… that he’s always armed to the teeth. And the worst part is that he knows you know, and that’s what he really likes…
“Stop, Fiona!” she cried out loud struggling to regain the upper hand in the precarious fight with balance in the one-legged eagle pose. “Concentrate!” Because Orion does things to people. Really, really bad things. He doesn’t hide those things; he just does them. I know, she thought grimly, sitting back in the child’s pose. I saw him. He wanted to show me what he could do…
Orion, I can do things too, she thought defiantly. You think you can play with me like a cat with its little mouse? I’m not your mouse anymore! I have allies too, you know. Even here. You and your pirate-bitch did your best to keep me locked away here, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll still get out, you know. I have allies.
She stretched her limbs and lay still on the mat, breathing...
She could not stop thinking…
About him.
&
nbsp; She poured herself a glass of wine from the cabinet by the window. Glass in hand she gazed into the distance. In the dark the stretch of water between the lights of the island and the mainland appeared to consist of so much empty space. Dark space. Nothingness. Night is awake, thought Fiona, and shivered. “Night? Twilight?” she scoffed. “I’ve been here too long. I’ve got to get back home as soon as possible.”
He’d sent Peter. Coward! she thought, recalling the knock on the door sometime that afternoon – before Evening Song... Not Evening Song! What is that? she thought with disgust. Some ridiculous superstition. A stupid ritual. There was no Evening Song back home…
Peter. She shuddered; recoiling at the image of the man standing on her doorstep: dressed in grey, his soft, dirty blond hair combed neatly, smiling politely at her while his glasses glinted in the sunlight. Yes, Orion could be terrifying, but Peter was…different. Orion was dangerous; Peter was… Fiona took a gulp of wine and a deep breath.
“Calm…Relax. Peter only came to tell you they had arrived.” Only came to tell you he would be stopping by tomorrow, she reminded herself. He didn’t come. He was busy, Peter told her.
Too busy to see me, but not too busy to send his little lackey to let me know he is thinking about me? He doesn’t dare face me. A flicker of hope? Maybe… Does he know? She paced nervously along the length of the living room. Her thoughts raced through the interview with Teodor. She had replayed those few minutes in her mind endlessly. Always going over the words she had used… her expressions… all calculated, practiced. True, she had stated that Orion was the target, but had she not also given an airtight, plausible reason? After all, everyone knew Orion acted as though he had special access to Shadow.
They said Shadow warned the Flying Fish! Could that be true? she wondered, having always viewed his purported ability to communicate without actually speaking… well, as a dubious hoax at best. But most likely an outright lie. Certainly, it had never spoken to her, she thought indignantly. It was all nonsense, she had decided long ago: part of a plan to keep the masses in thrall. Not that that was, in and of itself, objectionable, she reasoned, since the masses always needed something to keep them occupied. But a crocodile? Primitive … naturally. Like the rest of this ridiculous society, with its backward legal structure, and lacking a proper leader. That mayoral post: pathetic! It had no real power; he was just a glorified bureaucrat whose basic function was to pay salaries.
the Dark shall do what Light cannot (LiGa Book 2) Page 31