It takes a snake to know a snake’s path,
And a toad to follow another toad…
Seek not the snake’s path by hopping like a toad, Traveller
And lighten your load to spring with the toad.
Leave your doubt and your wrath by the roadside, Traveller,
They will not help you find your path…
“Shadow…” whispered the priest.
* * *
Orion hailed a cart with directions to the Blackbough docks, located at the bottom of the hill that led to Nightingale Avenue. These docks were not used for heavy commercial traffic, but specifically serviced public transport between mainland Pera and the islands, including the White Island chain. Small fishing boats, though, had always maintained a staunch presence, tolerated not least for their culinary contributions. They were best known for their fish sandwiches, featuring mackerel or, depending on the season, sardines. They were frequented, from the early hours of the morning ’til sundown, by passersby – of both the human and bird varieties.
Orion’s destination was a sleek, black motorboat moored incongruously alongside two raucous (on account of the colony of sea gulls that inhabited them), dilapidated fishing boats. It bore the word ‘LiGa’ in bold gold lettering upon its hull that gleamed dully under the streetlights. Normally it would have been moored outside LiGa headquarters, but the islands were more quickly accessible from the docks, and there had been instructions to await the Hunter at the docks.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Evening,” Orion nodded curtly, stepping lithely on board.
“I understand you’re going to the White Islands. Which one, in particular?”
“Stone Island,” Orion replied. “Do you know the Elder’s HQ? They call it the ‘Sanctum of the Dark One’ on the islands.”
“Yes.”
“I want you to approach in full view and moor in the pier before it.”
“Very well. If you don’t mind being seen…”
“I want them to see me come,” Orion said.
* * *
“I will go and bring the boat,” Jaluban volunteered. The passageway from the Dark Chamber had led them to the ceremonial caves on the western side of the island. The only spectators were the rocks and sand, the sea and the empty night sky.
“Yes,” said the Elder.
On the Island of Birds, the Elder-in-Waiting was standing resolutely on the Dark Rock. He would stand here until it was time to face the Elder. He felt neither cold nor fear, neither boredom nor happiness. He did not feel. He did not speak. He was as the rock: inert and unmoving.
39
Unlike schizophrenic Lodos, Poyraz was blowing with a single-minded, biting intensity as the boat traversed the Marble Sea on its way to the chain of islands at the entrance to the Light Veil. It was a silent journey; one did not speak if the Hunter did not wish to do so…
The boat slid easily into a berth on the pier. It was the only boat. A man in a long white robe was standing on the pier. He looked uncertainly at Orion who stepped with feline grace onto the wooden walkway.
“You must be a Twilight’s Hand,” he called out.
The Twilight’s Hand, for indeed he was one, assented that this was so.
“I wish to see the Elder.”
The man stood stoically silent.
“I said I wish to see the Elder…” Orion repeated.
Twilight’s Hand still said nothing.
Orion’s tone registered a note of surprise. “He is not here? Are you certain?”
Twilight’s Hand gave a barely perceptible nod.
Orion regarded him narrowly. “You don’t know where he is?”
“I know not, Hunter,” Twilight’s Hand assented, bewildered.
“When did he leave? Why?” Orion the interrogator continued.
Twilight’s Hand was silent. “I know not, Hunter.”
“Take me to the Sanctum,” Orion ordered.
Twilight’s Hand hesitated. The Sanctum of the Dark One was forbidden to outsiders, except with the express permission of the Elder.
“The Hunter walks where Twilight walks,” Orion recited. “Is that not the truth as it is written in the Book of Shadow?”
Twilight’s Hand bowed his head. “Yes, Hunter,” he said making no attempt to lead Orion to the aforesaid Sanctum. In actuality, Twilight’s Hand was suffering from an internal crisis. It was true that the Book of Shadow proclaimed that the Hunter walks where Twilight walks. But what did that mean? He was aware that there were several disparate schools of thought on this very point, and rued the fact that he had not so far given the relationship between the Hunter and the Dark One its due weight in terms of study. Nevertheless, he would try…
Twilight’s Hand swallowed, drew himself to his full height, which was almost as tall as Orion.
“According to the teachings of the astronomer, the Elder Nebula, may the Dark One protect his immortal heart, this phrase refers to the celestial Hunter, the constellation of Orion, because it is he who watches over the Dark One’s domain during the darkest months. So, the Hunter walks where Twilight walks upon the dark mantle of the sky where our Master scattered the stars like sand,” Twilight’s Hand explained pedantically. “On the other hand,” he continued without pause, “we may infer from the writings of the philosopher Kelebek, whose writings are as finely ephemeral as the wings of a butterfly, that the Hunter does indeed literally walk where Twilight walks, but only sometimes, and it is not possible for us, mere mortals to discern such time, or what shape the Hunter will take–” He paused for breath, looking directly at Orion. His eyes were black and inscrutable. “Now, we should at this point consider–”
“I see,” Orion interrupted. “You’re really not sure, are you? Well, I’ll help you out. Either you take me to the Sanctum, or I will go there alone,” he explained pleasantly.
Twilight’s Hand contemplated the choice before him. He looked from Orion to the granite, colonnaded building some three hundred meters in the distance.
Was it not thus writ in the Book of Shadow?
From the Sun’s last light
All through the Night,
He walks.
And is it not rightly true?
That the truth of fear
Is the truth in our hearts,
And he is not afraid.
Which is important, for he is the one who is not afraid; who does not fear the Sun’s retreat.
Where he walks
Dare you?
In the black of Night
When the Land cowers with fright
Do you?
He who walks without fear in the dead of night, when blood runs red… thought Twilight’s Hand. That is the Hunter. Who else would dare?
Together they walked towards the building in the distance.
“How is it you don’t know where the Elder is?” Orion asked as they arrived at the steps leading to the Sanctum. “You’re his assistant Twilight Hand. I know because I read it in your mind,” he explained, noting the look of surprise in the man’s face.
Twilight’s Hand came to a decision. Who was he to try to hide anything from the Hunter, even if he wasn’t the true Hunter? How was he to know that Orion was not the Hunter? Elders before him, it was writ, had grappled with such questions; and he a mere Twilight’s Hand…
“I came from the Island of Birds after–” he stopped. He tried to block the thought from his memory. Why was I there?
“Yes, you came from the Island of Birds,” Orion said encouragingly.
The truth. The Dark One knows the truth. Does the Hunter?
They were at the mouth of an arched entrance. Twilight’s Hand faced Orion. “Immortal, you are welcome to enter the Sanctum,” he recited. “It is no more than a stepping stone, a pebble in the great River. It is all we have to offer. It is all, and it is nothing. As the Dark One wills, may you enter–” He bowed.
Orion stepped forward.
He walked until he came to a narrow pool of w
ater running lengthwise across the black marble floor. There was a small bridge across the pool leading to a tall chair carved out of a black stone in which tiny pieces of light danced as though alive. The walls and the ceiling of the room were grey stone coated with pure crushed light-seed. The effect was to imbue the surfaces of the room with iridescent depth. The walls and ceiling melted into one and seemed to stretch away endlessly. A room of stars. It must have been prohibitively expensive, Orion knew, particularly since the islands did not grow any light trees.
He crossed the bridge in three quick steps and took a seat on the black chair. It was the Elder’s Seat, he knew.
“That is the Elder’s Seat,” Twilight’s Hand cried. “You may not sit there.”
“You mean this is the seat of the Dark One’s second in command,” Orion pointed out. “Is that not so?”
“It is the Elder’s Seat,” Twilight’s Hand repeated doggedly, unwilling to enter into a theological discussion with the man who called himself the Hunter, who may even be the Hunter.
“And who is the Elder? Is he not Twilight’s Voice? His right hand man?”
Twilight’s Hand maintained a stolid silence.
“Speak, Twilight’s Hand. Answer me.”
“The Elder is Twilight’s Voice,” conceded Twilight’s Hand.
“Very good,” Orion smiled. “Well, to be Twilight’s Voice means to speak for Twilight, which can only be done by one who understands Twilight. In other words, one who walks in Twilight’s path, which we have established I do since I am the Hunter,” Orion smiled.
Twilight’s Hand pursed his lips. There was truth to what the Hunter said, but was it the Truth? Once again, it was an issue rife with debate…
“In any event, I did not come here to sit in the Elder’s Seat,” Orion continued, interrupting Twilight’s Hand’s chain of thoughts.
Twilight’s Hand regarded Orion impassively.
“I have something very important to communicate to you and all the other Twilight’s Hands. I wished to speak to the Elder but he is, alas, not with us. Are you quite sure you have no clue as to his whereabouts?”
“I know nothing,” replied Twilight’s Hand truthfully. “We returned from the Island of Birds together.” Twilight’s Hand was careful to keep his mind as blank as possible regarding the reason for their being on the Island of Birds. “Soon after our return, the Elder received a note from the mayor’s office. He did not read it to me, but I saw the regalia on the light bird that brought the message.”
“What did he do after he read the message?”
Twilight’s Hand was thoughtful. “He wrote out a message and delivered it to the messenger who had brought the light bird. I do not know the message.”
“What happened afterwards?”
I do not know, thought Twilight’s Hand. There was a fisherman. A disgusting creature, who had come looking for the Elder…
“When did the fisherman come?” Orion asked sharply. Twilight’s Hand was surprised by the change in tone, but replied evenly that it must have been after midnight. Sometime after midnight, but before first light.
“What happened to him? The fisherman: did the Elder talk to him?”
The Elder, in his infinite wisdom, had elected to see the fisherman and they had repaired together to the Dark Chamber, below. “After that, I did not see the Elder or the fisherman return.”
“Where is the Dark Chamber?”
“Directly below this hall.”
“Why were you on the pier? For whom were you waiting?”
“For the Elder,” replied Twilight’s Hand. “I waited in the Elder’s inner chambers as he bid me I should, but he did not return. Eventually I went looking for him. He was not in the Dark Chamber. I thought to look for the fishing boat that had brought the Elder’s visitor, but it too, was gone.
“I fear something may have happened to the Elder,” he added with a note of worry.
“Fear not,” Orion told him. “I do not believe he has been harmed.” Yet, he added to himself. After all, the Elder had not yet met the Hunter…
“Now, we will wait,” he said pleasantly.
“Wait? For the Elder?” Twilight’s Hand was confused.
“Possibly,” Orion agreed. “If he wishes to join us, he certainly may, but I was thinking rather of the other Twilight’s Hands. I want them all to be present when I make my announcement.”
“How? It is the dead of Night. They must be asleep on their islands,” protested Twilight’s Hand.
“Not for much longer,” Orion said. “I must trouble you to go back to the beach and give instructions to my boat there to go and fetch each Twilight’s Hand from the islands. It would be best if you were to take the boat, for my captain does not know the Twilight’s Hands, and we would like to avoid any unpleasantness,” Orion continued in the same light, pleasant tone, which was nevertheless an order that Twilight’s Hand dared not disobey.
40
“The truth of fear is the truth in our hearts…” Orion said. No one else spoke and Orion listened carefully. A mind is a clamorous thing, especially in the midst of silence. And a quiet mind is a hidden mind. A mind that has something to hide is careful, like the minds in this hall.
“What is the truth in our hearts?”
“The truth is the Cypress Ritual.” It was a tired voice. Listless, with nothing left to hide.
And suddenly there was fear in the hall.
“Yes,” Orion said. “Come forward, Twilight’s Hand–” he beckoned to the group of ten men who were lined up before the pool of water.
“I am the Elder-in-Waiting,” one of them said, stepping forward. “You know me, Hunter. And I know the Truth. I speak the Truth.”
“Tell us the Truth,” Orion urged.
“There is no need,” the Elder-in-Waiting said. “The Truth is known to us all. To you, Hunter, more than any of us.
“I, Elder-in-Waiting, arranged the Cypress Ritual upon the Island of Birds. One year ago and a week ago, it was planned, and it was executed a week ago.” His voice was emotionless as he told the story of Cypress’s grooming for the Ritual. He told how he had organized the party that would push her off the rock into the sea to be drowned.
“Cypress is my daughter,” he said, and his voice was a hard thing: incisive and cold.
There was nowhere to go; the entrance to the hall was locked upon the Hunter’s instructions. Fear was in control. Except in the heart of the Elder-in-Waiting, who refused to stop speaking, revealing what should remain untold…
“I threw my daughter off the rock,” he said. “I am responsible.”
At least… thought the other Twilight’s Hands with a glimmer of hope.
“The Cypress Ritual,” Orion said slowly, paying close attention. “Is the greatest wrong,” he added, infusing the sentence with finality.
“Yes,” agreed the Elder-in-Waiting. So very, completely, unforgivably wrong. His voice was haggard when he next spoke. “I am to be punished,” he said in a voice like corrugated iron. “I am unforgivable. My fate is not important. It is not relevant.
“Hunter, do not hold what I did, the grievous wrongs that I committed, against my brethren. They did what they were told. They could not disobey…”
“They could not disobey you?” Orion asked.
“We could not disobey the Elder,” one of the Twilight’s Hands said. It was the Elder’s assistant. “Neither could he,” Twilight’s Hand added, referring to the Elder-in-Waiting. “The truth is that we are as much to blame as he is. We who took part in the Ceremony of the Silent Dark to commemorate Cypress’s death.”
“It is our tradition!” cried a third Twilight’s Hand. He was closer in age to the Elder than either the assistant or the Elder-in-Waiting.
“Cypress is alive,” Orion announced. He could almost hear the confusion in the hall. “Yes, she is alive and well in Pera. Thankfully, there happened to be a pirate ship passing through and it managed to save her.”
“It was you,” the E
lder-in-Waiting said, unwilling at this stage to let any fact go unaired. “Hunter, you were on the Flying Fish, and it was you who came to the island and found Cypress where she had been hiding for days in the caves.
“I,” he continued morosely, “I knew she had survived and brought her food every day. I hoped that a ship or a boat would come to take my daughter so she would not die.” The ultimate confession. I did not want Cypress to die!
But I went ahead with the Ceremony of the Silent Dark, thought the Elder-in-Waiting in the private confessional that was his mind. I took part in the tree planting ceremony. I did all this, and for that I am unforgivable. I hid the truth from the Dark One.
“Traitor!” cried one of the Twilight’s Hands.
Orion noted the face. He held up his left hand. “Silence!” When they had quieted down, Orion continued to speak. “Think what you may privately, the Cypress Ritual is considered a transgression of the highest order under the natural laws of Pera. Under Shadow’s Laws. You have committed this act – even though it was not successful, most of you were not aware of the failure. You deserve punishment–”
As he spoke, the Elder-in-Waiting stepped forward, across the bridge, and knelt before the Elder’s Seat at Orion’s feet.
“I await my punishment,” he said, his head bowed. “I have left instructions for my son, Kaya, who was in no way involved in the Ritual as my brethren will confirm. He will take on the mantle of Twilight’s Hand for the Island of Birds. He is young but intelligent. He will perform his duties to the best of his abilities. He loves Cypress. He would never harm her. She is his little sister.”
Orion sighed. “Elder-in-Waiting, I appreciate your eagerness to accept retribution, but you have more work to do, I’m afraid. Now, please rise and return to your worthless brethren.”
The Elder-in-Waiting returned to his place among the Twilight’s Hands.
the Dark shall do what Light cannot (LiGa Book 2) Page 38