It is important, the chorus sang. As it was then, it is now…
Yes, exactly, thought Father Griffith, rising to applaud enthusiastically. The performers took their bows and left the stage.
“How often are there such concerts?” Father Griffith asked Markiza.
“Every day,” she replied. “Every day at Evening Song there is a performance. It changes, though. These are free performances. The artists are not paid for their time. Typically, the same group will perform every day for one week. But it’s not always sung like this. I’ve seen ballets of Evening Song. Even a mime! My dear, you could come here once a week for a year and see a different rendition of Evening Song.”
“And the rest of the time? What happens in this hall?” Father Griffith looked around. “What is it used for?”
“It’s our House of Light and Dark,” Markiza replied. “This space belongs to everyone – to every living creature – in Pera. We can do what we wish here. There are concerts, meetings… whatever we want–” she smiled.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Cat asked Dalga, putting her arm around the girl’s shoulders.
“Yes,” Dalga said in a small voice. Her downcast face was curtained by wings of black hair. “But I miss my brother. And my father hates me,” she added, almost inaudibly. “I was Cypress.”
“No, child.” Cat said gently. “He loves you,” she said softly. “He loves you very much.”
Dalga looked up at her. “How do you know?” she asked hopefully.
Cat stroked her hair. “Because he made sure you lived. He left food for you every day. You know it must have been he who left it for you. And he told us where to find you.”
“Did he?” Dalga asked as she twisted a fold of her dress. “How do you know?”
“We were there, darling. He asked Sofia to find you. She found you, didn’t she?”
Dalga nodded slowly.
“It was nothing you did,” Cat said. “It was not your fault. It should have been just a story...”
Markiza looked at her gratefully, and reached for Dalga’s free hand. “Here, in Pera, Evening Song is just a story,” she said gently. “Look at the walls,” Markiza urged. “The walls on the dark side.”
“Oh, I see what you mean…” Father Griffith softly said. He was gazing at the dark side of the hall, which was now aglitter.
Cat caught her breath sharply. Her hand flew to her breast. The other side of the room, which had until recently been glowing with the sun’s fire had dimmed. It was still golden, but it had lost its luster. “The Sun’s gone to sleep,” Cat said gently. “Did you see that, Dalga?”
Dalga nodded. “The Dark One is awake now,” she said gravely.
“It’s only a wall,” Markiza said.
The Dark One is awake… thought Dalga. “He’s not a wall,” she said.
“You are right,” Father Griffith said to Dalga. “Twilight is awake now. Twilight walks now. But the important thing is that we are able to walk where he walks. Do you understand?”
Dalga shook her head delicately.
“Do you remember when you were on the island after the ritual?”
Dalga nodded hesitantly.
“Were you afraid?”
“Yes,” she replied shyly. “I was frightened of the caves but my brother told me I had to go there, and I did.”
“And you stayed in the caves, didn’t you?”
Dalga nodded, regarding him curiously.
“Were you afraid while you stayed there?”
“A bit,” Dalga admitted. “I didn’t go all the way to the back or into the Night’s Lair! I don’t even know where that is.”
“But you did stay in the cave even though you were afraid.”
“Yes, my brother said I had to…”
“Did he say why?”
Dalga was silent. “Because I could hide there,” she replied. “No one can go to the caves except Father. And I could watch the sea for fishermen. My brother said the fishermen don’t hate the little girls from our islands. They even help them.”
“Your brother was right. If you had been too afraid to stay in the cave, you would have been caught probably… and we would not have been able to find you.” He paused. “You were brave enough to walk where Twilight walks.”
“I was?” Dalga asked, looking up with surprise.
“Yes. It was fear that made the Land do this terrible thing to Cypress. He could not see and he panicked. It took the Dark One to tell him how wrong he was, and that the Sun was simply resting–”
Dalga listened intently.
“But you were not like the Land. You overcame your fear and stayed in the cave because you knew it was in your best interest to do so. You did not panic.
“That’s what it means to walk where Twilight walks. To walk without fear… to walk in spite of your fear. You are the master of your fear, Dalga, not the other way round.”
“Was my father afraid?” Dalga asked.
“Yes, probably,” Father Griffith replied. “But he does love you. He did all he thought he could to save you. I am sure of this. But not everyone can walk where Twilight walks. Not all the time.”
“Thank you for explaining it to me,” Dalga said solemnly.
“Father?” Markiza touched him lightly on the arm.
“Yes?”
“You asked what the House of Light and Dark is used for, I remember–”
Father Griffith nodded.
“It is our community space, and as such we house our most treasured books and manuscripts here. In our library in the upstairs gallery. Perhaps you would care to see it?”
“I would be delighted!”
“There isn’t enough time now. I think you will want to spend some time there. How about tomorrow?”
“I can think of no better way to spend the day.”
“I can pick you up, if you would like. Our home is close to LiGa headquarters.”
Father Griffith shook his head gently. “Thank you for your gracious offer, but I think I would like to walk. I want to see Pera. I want to feel Pera.”
“Very well. What time shall we say?”
“After breakfast? Would ten o’clock suit you?”
“I look forward to it,” Markiza said. “Now let’s get you all to the Dark Hall to meet Shady. But it won’t do. If you’re to spend the evening at the Dark Hall–” she began while giving them an appraising look, “you must change into something appropriate!”
45
The driver held the door of the cart open as Cat stepped daintily onto the cobblestone street resplendent in a dress of flame-colored iridescent taffeta. Standing at the entrance to the Dark Hall, she smiled a smile of pure delight. Father Griffith was still dressed in a simple black cassock but Bruce had donned full evening dress of becoming black.
“Ah, there you are!” Shady cried with relief from his post by the entrance. “I was worried you might have got lost or something–” he mumbled and waved vaguely.
“I don’t see how.” Cat looked at him with suspicion. “We were with Markiza the whole time. Where were you, anyway? We thought you had got lost. And where’s Orion? Have you seen him?”
“Nope. Have not seen or heard from Orion. Before we go inside, I want to show you something…”
He led them a short distance to a black tree with serpentine branches encircled by an iron fence.
“This is the first light tree,” Shady explained.
“Oh!” Cat reached forward to run her fingers along the raggedy bark. “It feels like a normal tree,” she exclaimed.
Shady laughed. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know… I expected… something unreal. I don’t know. But it’s completely black.”
“Like the black of night,” Father Griffith mused, likewise reaching out to touch the unfamiliar tree.
“There are no berries, now,” Bruce observed, gazing at the bare branches.
“Not until springtime. Then you’ll see: it’s like the trees are c
loaked in stars. It’s one of the most remarkable sights I’ve ever witnessed.
“But I wanted to show it to you to explain a bit more about the role of the light tree in Pera. You know it’s special, obviously, because Pera basically runs on the fruit of this tree – or at least, its distant brothers and sisters that are tended in light farms on the outskirts of Pera.
“Are you familiar with the concept of Shadow’s laws?”
“Yes,” Bruce replied, “Markiza explained it briefly to us earlier today. She mentioned that ownership of the light tree falls under Shadow’s laws, if I understood correctly.”
“Right. Shadow’s Laws contain two provisions relating to the light tree. First: every citizen of Pera owns at least one light tree. Second: it is forbidden to buy or sell the sap of the light tree. Since the light tree cannot grow from a seed, it must be grafted. It would be impossible to sell a sapling without the sap–” Shady paused, noticing that Father Griffith was looking puzzled. “Do you have a question, Father?”
“Yes, I do. You said that the light tree couldn’t grow from a seed, that it must be grafted, but if I recall correctly, you had also said that the young tree in the park that was the victim of the River Ritual had grown from a seed dropped by a light bird. Am I incorrect?
“Very good. I was being lazy. My apologies. Both of those statements are correct, in a way. You see the light tree cannot be grown from a seed unless the seed has passed through the digestive tract of a light bird. We don’t know how it works. Our scientists have been unable to unlock the secret that lies within the light bird. The seed of the light tree planted by human hand fails. We can only graft a light tree.
“So, although the light tree belongs to Pera, and is therefore subject to Shadow’s laws, Pera has chosen to gift the fruit of the light tree – the lightberry – to the people of Pera. As you know, the lightberry is our life. We depend upon it for fuel, for light, for warmth… To live. As a result, the ownership and use of the lightberry are subject to the state laws.
“Markiza mentioned a third set of laws–” Bruce began.
“That’s right,” Shady interrupted. “I was coming to that. Suppose, for instance, we figured out how the light bird processes the light tree’s seed, and could then grow the light tree from the seed instead of grafting, what would become of the laws that provide that the sap of the tree cannot be bought or sold?” He looked at Bruce expectantly.
“It would depend on an interpretation of Shadow’s and state laws, I suspect,” Bruce replied.
“Exactly. And that process is known as Pera’s law.”
“Who interprets the laws? The Justices, I presume. Markiza mentioned that her husband is a Justice.”
“You’re wrong, I’m afraid. The conflict is resolved by the community. By the citizens of Pera. In practice, that typically involves recommendations by the blind policemen.”
“Good old blind policemen!” Cat clapped. “How do I sign up?”
Shady said gravely, “If you decide to live here, you will be expected to go through a screening process and after you have spent sufficient time in the community, if that same community wants you to walk where Twilight walks… then, and only then can you be a blind policemen.
“By the way, you asked about the Justices. They are an integral part of Pera and their influence extends far beyond their role as judges in the legal system. They have their own separate and entirely independent system that selects and trains prospective candidates. And those who pass through the system are among the most intelligent and have the highest level of integrity. Equally as important, the Justices receive extensive training in ‘the sense.’ They are all accomplished telempaths and are specifically taught to detect deception.”
“Interesting…” Bruce mused.
“And now for the evening’s entertainment. Will you join me in the Dark Hall?” Shady offered his arm gallantly to Cat.
“Delighted, my darling Shady,” Cat trilled.
Shady cast a quick glance over her. “So Markiza told you to lay off the jewelry?”
Cat looked down at her bare arms and hands, and sighed despondently. “Yes, she did. She said they would make us – well, me, really – remove all our jewelry. But what is the point in getting all decked out just to remove your jewelry?” Cat cried indignantly, throwing up her hands in frustration. “And in a place that’s completely dark. Is the dark hall really pitch black?” She gave Shady a look of disbelief.
“Oh yes. Total darkness and jewelry can be distracting in the middle of a game. If it makes you feel any better, Patron had the same reaction as you. She said she felt naked without her rubies and emeralds, so she opened her own club,” Shady laughed. “It’s a nice place. I went to the opening. It’s called – you’d never guess – the Flying Fish.”
“I fully understand how she must have felt,” Cat said darkly.
“Hello, Professor,” said a young woman’s voice beside them. The owner of the voice was slim and tall, and wrapped in a blue-black cape. She wore her chin-length blue-black hair without adornment and its gloss was decoration enough. Large, expressive hazel eyes looked at the world from beneath long, dark lashes, and a dimple appeared in her right cheek when she smiled.
“Sandra, my dear.” Shady embraced her warmly and planted an affectionate kiss on her cheek.
Cat leaned towards Father Griffith standing next to her. “I wonder if she is the girl Patron mentioned,” she whispered.
“Who?” Father Griffith looked at her uncomprehendingly. “I have no recollection–” He looked at her, puzzled. Cat rolled her eyes. “Ah! I’ll tell you later,” she whispered with an impatient sigh, and looked up with a bright smile as Shady led the girl towards them.
“Sandra, come meet some of our new friends.”
Cat hugged Sandra warmly, and watched her walk away towards a small group standing by the entrance, clearly her friends. I can see a reflection, in a way, of the girl we brought, Cat thought. Little Dalga.
“Was that–” Cat began as she approached Shady, “one of the Cypress girls? Patron told us about one.”
“Sandra? Yes,” Shady said quietly. “She … came from the islands.”
“What a lovely girl,” Cat sighed. “I am ever so glad she got away.”
“Yes…let’s go in.”
They followed Shady through the main entrance into the dimly lit anteroom where their eyes began to adjust to the total darkness of the hall beyond…
“It really is completely dark…” Cat marveled, whispering softy.
“Except for those points of light.” Bruce pointed to the flickers of moving sleet beads to their left.
“Will you be playing?” a disembodied man’s voice asked.
“My goodness, you startled me!” Cat sprang back. “I can’t see you,” she added accusingly in the direction of voice.
Shady chuckled. “Yes, he is hard to see. No, we will not be playing,” he said to the voice.
“Very well, Professor. I apologize for frightening the lady.”
“That’s all right, young man,” Cat said in a conciliatory tone. “I didn’t know what to expect. Why can’t we play anyway, Shady, darling?”
“Because you don’t know how to,” Shady replied. “But I can teach you the basics while we’re here.” He turned towards the voice. “We’ll be in the concert hall. Please bring two boards.”
“Very well, Professor.”
“Can you slow down a bit, Shady darling?” Cat protested. “I can’t see where I’m going.”
He led them purposefully through the pitch-black space.
And suddenly, just as they turned a corner, there was light.
“Here we are,” Shady announced.
“We are–” Cat began, bewildered, “where exactly?”
“Can’t you hear the music?”
Father Griffith moved towards the muted sounds that appeared to be emanating from behind a wall directly before them. He assumed it was a wall on account of the tiny points of bluish
white light that formed the shape of a crocodile. It was highly unlikely, he concluded, that the lights could be suspended in air – although, he conceded, he was not completely discounting the possibility. One never knew, he considered, in this place, anything might happen…
Shady walked towards the form of the crocodile and saying, “Follow me”, disappeared around it. Commending his soul to a – hopefully – benign unknown, Father Griffith followed suit. Cat and Bruce were close behind. On the way, Bruce knocked on the wall, checking its solidity.
Shady led them to an empty table for four near the stage.
“I am grateful to Markiza for insisting we get dressed up,” Cat remarked, looking around the room that was lit well enough for her to discern even the faces of the other patrons. The light emanated from clusters of tendril-like metallic branches arranged decoratively in vases on each table. The vases of transparent glass, coated with Moonlightsmear, glowed with a cold bluish hue, as well as the tiny ‘berries’ attached to the branches. “But at least no one else seems to be wearing jewelry either. Such a pity. All those beautiful gowns and not a single diamond pendant or even a ring…”
“Especially no rings,” Shady whispered, leaning close, “or bracelets. Those are definitely not permitted where sleet is played.”
“What about here?” Cat asked. “No one is playing sleet here. Why is no one wearing jewelry?”
“You have to ask them,” Shady said. “They are permitted to do so, but probably many just don’t wear jewelry at all if they expect to play sleet at some point during the evening.”
A waiter approached their table quietly bearing two boxes made of a dark wood, which he placed on the table before Shady. “Would you care for drinks?”
As the waiter retired with their drink order, Shady opened one of the boxes. It was shallow and measured some 40 centimeters by 20.
“This game is called Sleet. It is also known as the rain game because it is played like a hard, fast rain, as in the story you probably read at the entrance of the Cistern. It is also sometimes referred to as the Star Game,” he added.
the Dark shall do what Light cannot (LiGa Book 2) Page 41