by Robyn Miller
Don’t worry, Anna. Just be yourself.
IT WAS ALMOST AN HOUR BEFORE THEIR BOAT drew up alongside the stone jetty and they climbed the dark granite steps, up onto the marble-flagged forecourt. Facing them was the carved stone gate that surrounded the massive doorway.
Anna had seen K’veer by day and it had seemed a strange yet pleasant edifice, but at night it seemed a wholly forbidding place. As they approached the doorway, Aitrus came alongside her.
“Forgive me, Ah-na,” he said quietly, “but we must conform to certain formalities. When we are inside, you will draw back and wait a moment while my father and I are greeted. Then it will be your turn.”
Inside the great atrium, Anna did as she was told, holding back beside Tasera as Aitrus and his father stepped forward and were presented by the Chief Steward to Rakeri and his son.
Anna saw once more that curious taking of both hands that was the D’ni way of greeting, the fingers linked; witnessed the smiles, the easy banter between the two sets of men, and knew that this was a world she would never enter, book or no book.
As Kahlis turned, Tasera nudged her gently. “Ah-na.”
Veovis was smiling pleasantly, his attention half on what was being said, half on greeting the next guests. As he looked across and his eyes met hers, the smile faded. There was a moment’s consideration and then he turned to Kahlis.
“Forgive me, Master Kahlis, but might I have a word with you, in private?”
Kahlis looked to his son, then shrugged. “Of course, Veovis.”
Veovis turned and bowed to Rakeri. “If you would forgive us a moment, Father? I shall not be long.”
Tasera and Anna had stopped, yards distant of Lord Rakeri. As Veovis and Kahlis walked away, Aitrus stared after them, perturbed. Rakeri himself was simply mystified.
There was an embarrassed silence. Rakeri looked to Tasera and smiled weakly. Aitrus simply stared at the door through which Veovis and his father had passed. A moment later the two men returned, his father clearly embarrassed by something. Coming over to Aitrus, he drew him aside.
“It seems there has been a misunderstanding,” he began. “I took the invitation to include our house guest, Ah-na, but it was not meant so.”
Aitrus, who had been listening to his father’s words, glanced over at Veovis, who stood beside his father, wearing a determined look.
“A misunderstanding?” Aitrus tried to keep calm, tried not to let his anger show.
“Yes,” Kahlis said. “Ah-na can stay here, in the house. Veovis has promised that his servants will make sure she has everything she wants. But she cannot go through into Ader Jamat.”
“Why not?”
Kahlis raised a hand, bidding him be silent. “Because she is not D’ni.”
Aitrus felt the anger boil up inside him. Keeping his voice low, he leaned close to Kahlis. “This is not right, Father.”
“Maybe,” Kahlis conceded, “but it is Lord Veovis’s decision who enters his Age, not ours, and we must respect that.”
“I see.”
“I’m glad you do. Now will you tell her, Aitrus?”
Aitrus stared back at him a moment, then looked down. “You must forgive me, Father. I respect you deeply, and love you, but in this I must disobey you. This is wrong.”
“Aitrus …”
But Aitrus turned and walked across to where Rakeri and Veovis stood. “Forgive me, Lord Rakeri, but I have been suffering from an illness these past few weeks. It has left me feeling rather weak … light-headed.” He glanced at Veovis, who was watching him hawkishly now. “I feel it coming on now, and beg you to excuse me.”
Rakeri, who had no idea what was going on, gave a tiny bow of his head. “I commiserate, Aitrus, but maybe my house surgeon could help?”
“That is kind of you, my Lord, but I really ought to go home.”
Rakeri shook his head, a look of disappointment in his eyes. “I am sorry about that. I had hoped to talk with you.”
Aitrus bowed low, then turned to Veovis. “And may good fortune shine down on you, Veovis. I am sorry that I cannot be there for the celebration of your Korfah V’ja.”
There was a black anger now behind Veovis’s eyes, yet if he felt like saying something, he kept it well in check. He nodded curtly.
Aitrus stood there a moment longer, wondering whether something more ought to be said; then, knowing that the situation was irreparable, he turned on his heel and walked across to where Anna stood beside his mother.
“Aitrus,” Tasera said, her curiosity almost overwhelming her by now, “what is going on?”
“Ah-na and I are leaving,” he said, making no attempt to explain how things were. “Ask Father.”
Anna was staring at him now, bemused. “Aitrus? What’s happening?”
“Later,” he said, then took her arm and turned her, leading her out through the gathered ranks of guildsmen and their families, heading back toward the boat.
AITRUS WAS STANDING AT THE STERN OF THE boat, chewing on a thumbnail and staring back at the great rock of K’veer as it slid into the darkened distance.
“You do not want to know.”
Anna, sitting just below him, let out an exasperated sigh. “I am not blind, Aitrus. I saw how Veovis looked at you.”
“There was a misunderstanding.”
Anna waited, conscious of how pained he was by all this. After a moment he spoke again.
“He said you were not invited.”
“Ah … I see.”
“He said it was because you were not D’ni.”
“That much is undeniable.”
Aitrus was silent a moment, then, “It was an impossible situation, Ah-na. He made me choose.”
“And you chose me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was not right to make me choose.”
ANNA WAS DRESSING THE NEXT MORNING WHEN there was a hammering on the door downstairs. It was still very early and it was unusual for anyone to call at this hour. Going over to her door, she opened it a crack, listening.
There was a murmured exchange between Kahlis and his steward. Then:
“Here? Are you sure?”
There was silence for a moment, then:
“Lord Veovis! Welcome! To what do we owe this most pleasant surprise?”
“I have come to see your son, Master Kahlis. Is he at home?”
“He is. I shall go and see if he has risen. If you would take a seat, meanwhile. I’ll not be long.”
A hand briefly brushed her arm. She turned, her heart thumping, and found herself staring into Aitrus’s face.
“Aitrus!”
“Will you come down with me, Ah-na?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “This is between you two.”
“No. This is about you, Ah-na. You ought to be there.”
VEOVIS STOOD AS THEY STEPPED INTO THE room.
“Aitrus,” he said, coming across the room, both hands extended. “Will you forgive me?”
Aitrus took his hands, tentatively at first, then with a greater firmness.
“That depends.”
“I understand. I handled things badly. I know that, and I am sorry for it.” He looked past Aitrus to where Anna stood. “And you, Ah-na. I owe you an apology, too.”
“You do, indeed,” Aitrus said sternly.
Veovis nodded, accepting the rebuke. “Yes. And that is why I have brought you a present. To try to make amends.”
He turned and, going back across, picked up a box and brought it back, handing it to Anna. It was a small, square box with tiny airholes in one side of it.
She stared at it a moment, then untied the bright red ribbon and lifted the lid … and then looked up at Veovis, laughing.
“Why, it’s beautiful! What is it?”
Carefully, cupping it in one hand, she lifted out a tiny creature—a veritable fur ball, its long silky coat the dark, brown-black of rich loam. Its large, cobalt-colored eyes stared up at her.
/> “It is a reekoo,” Veovis said. “It comes from Ader Jamat.”
Aitrus, who had turned to look, now smiled. “Thank you. It was a kind thought.”
Veovis sighed, then, somberly, “I am sorry you were not there last night, Aitrus.”
“And I. Yet we must resolve this matter, no?”
Anna, who was stroking the rippled, leathery neck of the tiny creature, looked up, glancing from one to the other. So it was not settled, even now.
Veovis took a long breath, then nodded. “Tonight,” he said. “Come to my rooms. We’ll talk about it then.”
IT WAS VERY LATE WHEN HE CAME BACK THAT night. Anna waited up, listening as his footsteps came up the stairs. As he made to pass her room, she opened the door and stepped out.
“Aitrus?” she whispered.
Aitrus turned. He looked weary.
“Is everything all right now?”
He stared at her, then, “You had better come to my study, Ah-na. We need to talk.”
The words seemed ominous. Anna nodded, then followed him down the long corridor and into his room.
“Well?” she asked, as she took a chair, facing him.
Aitrus shrugged. “I am afraid Veovis is intractable.”
“Intractable? In what way? You are friends again, are you not?”
“Perhaps. But he will not bend on one important matter.”
“And that is?”
Aitrus looked down glumly. “He says that as you are not D’ni, he will not countenance you going into an Age, no, nor of learning anything about D’ni books. He claims it is not right.”
“Then you said nothing of our visit to Ko’ah?”
Aitrus hesitated, then shook his head.
“Can I ask why? It is unlike you to be so indirect.”
“Maybe. But I had no will to fight Veovis a second time.”
“So did you promise him anything?”
“No. I said only that I would consider what he said.”
“And was that enough for him?”
“For now.”
She stared at him a moment, then, “So what have you decided?”
His eyes met hers again. “Can I hide nothing from you, Ah-na?”
“No. But then you have had little practice in hiding what you feel from people, Aitrus.”
Aitrus stared at her for a long time, then sighed. “So you think I should abandon my plan?”
“Your plan?”
In answer, he opened the top right-hand drawer of his desk and took out a big, leather-bound book. It was a book—a D’ni book—she could see that at a glance. But when he opened it, there was no box on the front right-hand page, and the inside pages were blank.
She stared at it. “What is it?”
“It is a Kortee’nea,” he said. “A blank book, waiting to be written.”
Anna looked up, her mouth falling open slightly.
“I have had it for a year now,” he answered. “I have been making notes toward an Age. One I myself am writing. And I thought … well, I thought that perhaps you might like to help me. But now …”
She saw what he meant. There was a choice. Defy Veovis and lie about what they were doing, or go along with Veovis’s wishes and deny themselves this.
“And what do you want, Aitrus?” she asked quietly, her dark eyes probing his. “What do you really want?”
“I want to teach you everything,” he said. “Everything I know.”
IN THE MONTHS THAT FOLLOWED, THE RELATIONSHIP between Aitrus and Veovis was strained. As if both sensed that all was not well between them, they kept much to themselves. It was a situation that could not last long, however, and a chance remark to Veovis by a young man from the Guild of Maintainers brought things to a head once more.
Aitrus was in his rooms at the Guild Hall, when Veovis burst in upon him unannounced.
“Is it true?” Veovis demanded, leaning across the desk.
Aitrus stared at his old friend in amazement. Veovis’s face was suffused with anger. The muscles stood out at his neck.
“Is what true?
“The girl … the outsider … are you teaching her to Write? How could you, Aitrus! After all you promised!”
“I promised nothing. I said only that I would consider your words.”
“That’s pure sophistry, and you know it! You lied to me, Aitrus. You lied and deceived me. And not only me, but D’ni itself!”
“Now come,” Aitrus said, standing.
“You are a traitor, Aitrus! And you can be sure I shall be taking this matter before the Council!”
And with that Veovis turned and stormed from the room. Aitrus stood there a moment, half in shock, staring at the open doorway. Since the Maintainers inspection two weeks back he had feared this moment. Veovis wouldn’t go to the Council, surely? But he knew Veovis. His friend was not one to make idle threats.
ANNA SAT IN THE WINDOW OF HER ROOM, THE tiny reekoo asleep in her lap as she gazed out over the ancient city and the harbor far below.
They had come that morning—six uniformed guards from the Guild of Maintainers and the great Lord R’hira himself. Kahlis and Aitrus had greeted them at the door, then stood back as Guild Master Sijarun walked through and opened the door to the Book Room, removing both the Book of Ko’ah and the new, uncompleted book that had no name.
The decision of the Council had been unanimous—Kahlis and his son were given no voice in the matter. It had been ruled that there had been a serious breach of protocol. In future, no one who was not of D’ni blood would be allowed to see a Book or visit an Age. It was, Veovis had argued, important that they set a precedent. And so they had.
Anna sighed. It was all her fault. And now Aitrus was in despair. Even now he sat in his study, wrestling with the question of whether to resign his seat on the Council.
She had seen Kahlis’s face, and Tasera’s. To lose a Book, Aitrus had once told her, was a matter of the gravest importance, but to have one taken forcibly, by order of the Council, was far, far worse. And she had brought that upon them. She groaned softly.
There was no way she might make amends. No way, unless …
THE OLD MAN LOOKED ACROSS AT ANNA, STARING at her through half-lidded eyes, then, pulling his cloak about him, he answered her.
“I do not know,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “I really do not know. Even if we find something …”
“They will listen. They have to listen.”
Kedri, Master of the Guild of Legislators, lifted his shoulders in a shrug. Then, with a sad smile, “All right. I shall try my best, young Ah-na. For you, and for my dear friend Aitrus.”
He sat there for a long time after she had gone, staring straight ahead, as if in a trance. It was thus that his assistant, Haran, found him.
“Master? Are you all right?”
Kedri slowly lifted his head, his eyes focusing on the young man. “What? Oh, forgive me, Haran. I was far away. Remembering.”
Haran smiled and bowed his head. “I just came to say that the new intake of cadets is here. A dozen keen young students, fresh from the academy. What shall I do with them?”
Normally, Kedri would have found them some anodyne assignment—an exercise in dust-dry law, overseen by some bored assistant or other—but the arrival of this new intake coincided perfectly with his need.
If he was to search back through the records, he would need help—and what better help that a dozen keen young men, anxious to impress him? At the same time, he needed to be discreet. If word of his activities got back to the Council, who knew what fuss might ensue, particularly if young Lord Veovis got wind of it? By assigning these cadets to the Guild Age of Gadar—to search among the legal records stored in the Great Library there—he could split two rocks with a single blow, as the old saying went.
“Take them to the Book Room,” he said. “I’ll address them there. I have a task for them.”
Haran stared back at him a moment, surprised, then, recollecting himself, he bowed low and quickly h
urried away.
It was strange that the girl, Ah-na, had come to him this morning, for only the evening before he had dreamt of the time he had spent with the Surveyors thirty years ago. It was then that he had first come to know young Aitrus. Aitrus had been assigned to him—to show him how things worked and answer his every query. They had got on well from the start and had been friends ever since.
As far as Ah-na was concerned, he had met her only once before, when Aitrus brought her to his house, but he had liked her instantly, and saw at once why Aitrus was fascinated by her. She had a sharp intelligence and an inquisitive mind that were the match of any guildsman. It had crossed his mind at once that, had she been D’ni, she would have made young Aitrus the perfect bride.
Even so, it surprised him still that she had come and not Aitrus, for he had half-expected Aitrus to pay him a call.
Kedri sat back, stretching his neck muscles and then turning his head from side to side, trying to relieve the tension he was feeling.
What he had agreed to do would not make him a popular man in certain circles, yet it had been a simple choice: to help his young friend Aitrus or abandon him.
Kedri sighed heavily. The Great Library of Legislation on Gadar contained a mass of information stretching back over six thousand years—the handwritten minutes of countless Council meetings and hearings, of guild committees and tribunals, not to speak of the endless shelves of private communications between Guild Masters. It would be like digging for one specific tiny crystal in the middle of a mountain.
And he had two weeks and a dozen keen young men to do it.
LORD ENEAH SAT AT HIS DESK. AITRUS’S cloak of office lay folded on the desk before him. It had come that morning, along with that of Aitrus’s father, Kahlis. Eneah had dealt with Kahlis, sending the cloak back to the Grand Master of the Surveyors. Whatever the rights or wrongs of the issue, Kahlis was clearly not to blame. But Aitrus’s conduct was a different matter entirely.