by Anne Bishop
Zhahar helped him up the steps and into sorrow’s room.
“Leave us,” Danyal said.
Lee felt her hesitate before she retreated, closing the door behind her. That was nothing more than a token gesture of privacy, since he could tell by the breeze that all the windows were open, and he didn’t think anyone was going to have to strain to eavesdrop on this conversation.
“Don’t need eyes to know you’re pissed off about something,” Lee said. “Shouldn’t you be dealing with it instead of chatting with me?”
“Maybe chatting with you is the only way to deal with it,” Danyal replied.
Lee felt the other man come closer, felt the way the song of the gongs seemed to vibrate against his skin. Judging by what he could sense of Danyal’s mood and temper, if the Shaman walked across a resonating bridge right now, he’d find himself in a dark landscape that had few, if any, connections to the Light.
“Things are happening in the city of Vision that have never happened before,” Danyal said. “I think you know why.”
Lee turned his head toward one of the windows, straining to hear. Was there someone out there besides Zhahar? Had he heard the scuff of a boot under that window? Could he have heard anything beyond the sound of the gongs?
Things were happening in the city of Vision. If he kept his voice low, would anyone outside be able to hear him over the gongs?
He waggled a finger, signaling for Danyal to move closer. When the Shaman was close enough that he could feel the man’s heat, he asked quietly, “My uncles told you about my sickness? About my delusions?”
“They told me,” Danyal said just as quietly.
“So you know you can’t believe any answers a madman gives you in response to your questions.” Lee paused. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t ask the questions.”
Did Danyal understand the message in the words?
Lee was fairly certain he wasn’t always being watched by those who had given their loyalty to the thrice-damned wizards, but he could never be certain that he wasn’t being watched. As long as Danyal—and Zhahar?—continued treating him like he was mind-sick insofar as what he said, he could tell them anything, everything, that might help them understand what was happening to their city.
And in helping Danyal, he might be able to do something for himself.
Danyal walked past him and opened the door. A moment later, Zhahar joined them.
“I’ve had a special cane made for Lee,” Danyal said. “I think, with some help, he can learn to navigate around the Asylum’s grounds on his own.”
“Oh,” Zhahar said.
Did she sound disappointed? Guardians and Guides, he hoped so. He’d like an excuse to be with her when she wasn’t taking care of him. And he wanted some independence so he could spend time with the woman instead of the Handler.
“Besides the daily session with the gongs to bring troubling emotions to the surface, where they can be released, Lee will also spend time talking about the events that brought him here,” Danyal continued.
“Ah…” Lee said.
“These talks can be combined with physical exercise, which will improve the body and promote healthful sleep.”
“Aren’t we a bundle of suggestions all of a sudden?” Lee muttered. He raised his voice enough to direct the words to Danyal. “If there is going to be talk, there will be a fair exchange.”
“Meaning?”
“In the city of Vision, you can find only what you can see. I’d like to know more about this city and how it works. I’d like to know more about this part of the world. So, an exchange. I’ll tell you what I know, and you tell me the equivalent. And you shouldn’t always be the one having these chats with me.”
A pause before Danyal said, “Really?”
“The Keeper can’t be spending that much time with one inmate. That won’t go unnoticed, and getting noticed right now isn’t healthy for any of us. Don’t you know anyone who might have an interest in the world beyond Vision who would give you an accurate report?” Lee asked.
“My sister Sholeh,” Zhahar said quickly. “She’s something of a scholar—or would have been if she’d been able to continue with her studies. She could do this, and she’d be very thorough in her reports.”
“Not to mention having her older sister nearby to keep an eye on her?” Lee asked sweetly.
A startled pause.
“Well, it’s not like you’re going to take her walking in the moonlight,” Zhahar said, sounding defensive.
“No, I’m not interested in taking Sholeh for a walk in the moonlight.”
Another pause before Danyal harrumphed. “I could arrange my schedule to have these discussions in the evening.”
“Wasn’t what I had in mind,” Lee said. “I don’t hear Zhahar offering an opinion.”
“Judging by her expression, that’s probably for the best,” Danyal said. “That will be all. Zhahar, escort Lee back to the porch. And ask your sister if she’d like to participate in these discussions.”
“Yes, Shaman.”
Lee felt her grab his arm and haul him to the door.
“Step,” she snapped.
He managed to get down the steps without falling. His longer legs made it easy enough to keep up with her, but he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t smack him into a tree. So he dug in his heels and yanked her to a stop.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“My sister is a loving, intelligent woman!”
“I’m sure she is,” Lee replied mildly.
“Any man would be lucky to take a walk with her in the moonlight.”
“I’m sure that’s true too—unless the man is interested in taking a walk in the moonlight with you. Going out walking with two sisters?” Lee shook his head. “That’s just asking for trouble—not to mention getting whacked with a spoon.”
“What?”
“Wooden spoon with a long handle. My mother’s preferred disciplinary tool. What does your mother use?”
“My mother had daughters and didn’t need tools.”
She released his arm and walked away.
“Zhahar?” Lee called. “Zhahar! Daylight, woman. Are you going to just leave me here?”
He heard footsteps behind him and braced for an attack, until he recognized the resonance he now associated with Danyal.
“Are you usually skilled with women?” Danyal asked.
“Not so much,” Lee replied sourly. “Are Shamans celibate?”
“Not so much.”
“Then don’t sound smug. There’s a woman out there at this very moment waiting to tangle up your life.” He’d found the woman who was going to tangle up his—at least for the foreseeable future.
Another of those pauses. “Did you leave someone behind, Lee?”
“Not the way you mean.”
“Come,” Danyal said gently. “I’ll escort you back to the porch. We both have much to think about.”
“Yes, we do.”
After passing Lee over to a frowning Kobrah, Danyal intended to go back to his office and work. But he wasn’t used to this heat, and the room had little air at this time of day, so he headed back to the temple to think. Then he changed directions and walked along the main path, stopping when he reached the small plant and the black-veined white marble.
Light. Hope. Inmates and Handlers alike seemed to find their way to this spot at some point in the day in order to look at this plant. Just for a moment. And it seemed that another bud opened in response to that person’s presence.
Madman or teacher—which one was Lee?
He had started to turn away when a glint of gold caught his eye.
That pocket watch hadn’t been there a moment before. He was sure of it.
Crouching, Danyal pushed his fingers into the dirt and picked up the watch—and would have sworn that, in the moment when his fingers closed over the gold, he heard music.
Michael lowered his tin whistle and shifted on the bench that sat on the safe part of the p
layground. “Glorianna, come take a look at this.”
Glorianna took a step toward him, then clamped both hands over her nose. “I’d rather not.”
“Now, don’t be getting all prissy. It’s just a smell.”
“Well, at least…” She pointed a finger, then adjusted direction so she wasn’t pointing directly at the house. “Ephemera, shift the wind so it blows that way.”
yes yes yes
When the world shifted the wind, she stepped into the gravel side of the playground and sat beside Michael.
“All right, wild child,” Michael said. “Show Glorianna what you just showed me.”
Palm trees that held the scent of dusty heat. Dark plants whose flowers looked like turds. Stinkweed. A heart’s hope. Grapes and a different, earthy smell. Lots of sharp, jagged bits of stone. A piece of granite. A wilted water lily.
And a gold pocket watch.
“You found Lee,” Glorianna said as she studied Ephemera’s message.
“Don’t know what landscape he’s in, but, yes, darling Glorianna, the wild child found him.” Michael bumped her shoulder with his. “What’s Ephemera telling us?”
She felt Belladonna scratching along the threads that connected the Light side of her heart with the Dark. Threads Michael shaped and strengthened each day by playing the music he heard in her—the music that wasn’t just Belladonna or just Glorianna but was both. Not who she had been, but who she was now.
“It found Lee,” she said grimly. “And it found some wizards in the same landscape.”
Michael nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”
And wizards, among a people who didn’t know what they were, could twist enough hearts to change the resonance of a landscape before anyone realized the danger. Nothing she could do about them, and nothing she could do to help Lee. Not yet. So she would take care of the things she could do something about.
She gave Michael a sideways look. “That wasn’t all you were thinking, Magician.”
“It wasn’t?”
“You were thinking that parts of that landscape need to be returned to where they belong.”
“I was thinking that?” Michael asked innocently.
She sighed and leaned forward, bracing her forearms on her thighs. “Ephemera? Hear me.”
???
“Take the parts you shifted to that landscape and put them back where they belong.”
???
“Put. Them. Back. Now.”
!!!
Michael frowned. “There’s no cause to be using that tone, wild child.”
!!!
Glorianna looked at her lover and narrowed her eyes.
“Now, don’t be giving me that look,” Michael said. “I’ve made some mistakes when I’m talking with the world, and I’m bound to make more, but this I didn’t do. Whatever it is.”
“Well, someone…” Glorianna studied the offerings in the sandbox. “Is there a Landscaper in that landscape?”
yes yes yes
Everything sank under the sand except the piece of granite.
“Anger makes stone,” she said reflectively, “and strength makes stone. That stands for strength.”
“If Lee and this Landscaper are in the same place, let’s hope they can help each other.”
“Let’s hope.” I can do more than hope. Ephemera, hear me.
She sent her heart wish through the currents of power, both Light and Dark.
A whisper of another heart wish came back to her from an unexpected place.
She gripped Michael’s hand. “Come with me.”
The quick grin and the heat in his smoky blue eyes faded as he studied her face. “I’m guessing we aren’t going inside for a nap.”
“No.” She paused and considered the feel of his mouth and the touch of his hands. A different kind of music that also reached both sides of her heart. “Not yet anyway.”
They left the playground and went to her walled garden, the place where she tended all the landscapes in her care. She led him to the part that held the dark landscapes.
Michael studied the triangle of grass. “It’s still tugging at you, isn’t it?”
“It is. It resonates with me—or some part of it does—but not enough to cross over. The call isn’t strong enough yet.” She looked at him, her partner in so many ways now. “Do you hear anything, Magician?”
“The music of the place, you mean?” He tipped his head and closed his eyes. “Chords. Three notes played together. Not a tune, as such. Dark tones and light. I’d be careful about going there unless I was sure of my welcome.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Is that what you wanted to know?”
“It is.”
“Why are you asking? Are you thinking it might not be yours?”
“Oh, I know it’s mine—or will be.”
Glorianna hesitated. She hadn’t told Michael, hadn’t told anyone that the dark landscape that held the Eater of the World—the landscape that should have been closed to everyone—was a place Belladonna could reach simply by taking the step between here and there. And sometimes she craved the power she had wielded there without constraints, without conscience. That was the main reason she felt so wary of that triangle of grass that was almost an access point. Belladonna could cross over to the Eater’s dark landscape, but she wasn’t sure if Belladonna would be able to leave again—and she was sure the part of her that was Glorianna wouldn’t survive.
“I felt a heart wish in the currents a few minutes ago,” she said. “Faint, but it was there. It felt like it came from the landscape where Lee is, but it also has some connection to that landscape.” She tipped her head to indicate the triangle of grass.
“But it’s not Lee’s heart wish.”
“No.” Let your heart travel lightly. The best thing she could do for Lee—and the rest of the family—was remember the truth of that saying.
She smiled at Michael. “Let’s go take that nap.”
Guardians of the Light and Guides of the Heart were created by Ephemera long ago to help the world manifest the true wishes of the human heart. The Guardians preferred to be cloistered from the turmoil of daily life, but the Guides walked among the people, lived like the rest of the people, except they could talk to the world. After the war with the Eater of the World, the Guardians disappeared. So did the Guides, but their descendants are still known by many names—Landscapers, Magicians, Heartwalkers, Heart Seers, Shamans. They are the ones who now provide balance between Ephemera and the people who live in the world (although a few Guides still exist and still walk in the world).
Ephemera also made beings called the Dark Guides as a response to the people who embraced the darker aspects of the heart. Most of the Dark Guides were trapped in a place called Wizard City, but there are still some wandering through Ephemera’s landscapes. Their descendants are called wizards, and they have the power of persuasion as well as a deadly magic they call wizards’ lightning. Many wizards nurture the dark feelings in the heart, but some are called Justice Makers and do, in fact, help maintain order in their part of the world.
There was a brief discussion of men called Bridges and their ability to change an ordinary bridge of wood and stone into something that can link different parts of the world.
I feel confident that Lee believes what he told me about Guardians, Guides, Dark Guides, and wizards. However, his comments about Bridges might have been a test to see if I’m gullible enough to believe everything he says.
—Sholeh’s first report to Shaman Danyal
Chapter 15
Danyal put Sholeh’s report in a separate file from his notes about Lee. It disturbed him to see Shamans listed so casually, and yet there was an odd relief that Shamans were not as unique as everyone in Vision believed. But the words, so casually spoken and so carefully written down for anyone to see, made it clear that Shamans, like the Landscapers and Magicians that had also been mentioned, did not have their roots in humankind. That was something he wanted to discuss with Far
zeen in private before telling the rest of the Shaman Council.
What disturbed him even more was the note about Guides being able to talk to the world.
Did the world ever talk back to the beings it had created?
There was someone he could ask, but he wasn’t ready for the answer. Because he knew, with absolute certainty, that his life would change into something he couldn’t yet imagine once he had the answer.
Tap tap. Tap tap.
“Branch,” Sholeh said, grabbing Lee’s left arm. When he stopped moving, she released him, and he heard her flipping through the pages of some kind of book. “I’ll make a note for Zhahar. She’ll have the groundskeepers take care of it.”
“Are you sure she’ll tell the groundskeepers?” he asked. “She’s still not feeling friendly toward me.”
“She’s my sister. The three of us look out for each other.” A pause. “I wasn’t insulted that you wanted to walk in the moonlight with Zhahar instead of me.”
“She told you what I said?” That wouldn’t be kind, and he couldn’t picture Zhahar being insulted on her sister’s behalf and then telling Sholeh.
A hesitation. “I sort of overheard you.”
Now, how could you have done that? Lee thought. Unless…
He was free of the drugs, he knew he wasn’t crazy, and he’d seen his share of unusual races. Not as unusual as what he’d been thinking about Zhahar and her sisters, but he’d had plenty of time to think lately. He just needed some physical information to help that thinking along, and right now, if he could trust the single resonance that was Sholeh, baby sister was on her own during this interview. Since they were out walking the Asylum’s grounds and there was no one around them, how fast would her sisters show up if Sholeh was goaded into saying something she shouldn’t?
Once he knew what he was dealing with, he’d figure out how he felt about it. Zhahar’s compassion for others pulled at him and pulled hard. She could fit in with his family in the same way Lynnea fit, and he wanted a chance to see how well she could fit with him. Her reaction to the moonlight-walk comment made him hopeful the attraction wasn’t just on his side. He’d like the chance to know the woman, to touch the woman, and…