The Myst Reader

by Robyn Miller

  Aitrus signed the note then stood. He did not feel like sleep—his mind was much too filled with things for rest—yet he felt the need to see Anna and Gehn. Walking through to the bedroom he stopped in the doorway, listening for their breathing in the darkness.

  Nothing. There was nothing. Slowly he tiptoed across, then crouched beside the bed, putting out his hand. The bed was empty.

  He stood, then went across and lit the lamp. The bed was made. There was no sign of them in the room.

  For a moment or two he could not think. When he had left, four hours ago, they had been here, asleep.

  Aitrus went out, then knocked on the end door, waking his house steward.

  “Were there any callers while I was gone?”

  “A Messenger came,” he answered, sitting up. “From the Guild House. He brought a message for you from your father. The Mistress—Ti’ana—came down and took it from me. She spoke to the man.”

  “Did you hear what she said.”

  “No.”

  Aitrus thanked him, then went back to his study. There was no sign of the message, but whatever it was, he knew exactly what Anna would have thought. He had told her he was going to the Guild Hall, and any message would have reached him there.

  Unless he had not gone to the Guild Hall.

  She would have remembered the anonymous note, and, piecing things together, would have gone after him.

  Maybe. But why take Gehn? Why not go alone? Unless she had not gone to the house.

  Gemedet, then? But again, why, in the middle of the night? Why not wait for him to return?

  No, only her fear for him would have made her go out after him. But why should she be afraid? Unless she already knew—knew at some deeper, instinctive level—that Veovis was behind it all.

  K’veer!

  No sooner had the thought been spawned than it became a certainty in his mind. K’veer! They had gone to K’veer!

  Whirling about, he hastened across the room and out, then ran down the corridor, not caring if he woke the house. His booted footsteps thudded on the stairs, yet as he threw open the door, it was to be greeted by the sight of men carrying lamps at his gate and, just beyond them, a dark sedan, suspended between eight uniformed runners. Veovis himself stood beside the carriage, talking to someone within its shadowed interior.

  A sudden anger boiled up in Aitrus. Striding down the path, he confronted Veovis even as he turned.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Veovis stared back at him haughtily.

  “Come!” Aitrus demanded. “What do you want?”

  “Want?” Veovis’s face hardened. “Nothing from you, Aitrus. I deal only with men of honor.”

  Aitrus bristled. “You dare to question my honor?”

  “Say only that I know who D’ni’s friends are, and who its enemies.”

  Aitrus felt a flash of hatred ripple through him. He wanted to strike Veovis. To break him as one might dash a plate against the ground.

  “You had best hold your tongue, Lord Veovis, before I rip it from your mouth!”

  Veovis’s eyes flared. “It is you who should be careful, lest I teach you a lesson in manners!”

  Aitrus clenched his fist, then, knowing that violence would solve nothing, forced himself to be calm. “I know to whom my loyalty lies well enough, Veovis. Would that I could say the same of you.”

  “I give my loyalty to those who deserve it,” Veovis responded. “It is no cheap thing.”

  Aitrus frowned. If that was a jibe at him he did not understand it. What did Veovis mean? Changing tack, he asked the question he ought to have begun with.

  “Where is my wife? Where is Ti’ana?”

  Veovis’s lips formed a sneer. “Do you not know, Master Aitrus? Surely it is a husband’s duty to know where his wife is!”

  Aitrus took a step closer, so that his face was but a hand’s width from Veovis’s. He spoke quietly, threateningly.

  “Do you have her?”

  For a moment Veovis simply stood there staring back at him, his eyes yielding nothing, then he turned and, drawing back the curtain of the sedan, reached in and, grasping her roughly by the hand, tugged Anna from her seat.

  Anna glared at Veovis, then turned back, reaching in to take the sleeping child from the nurse within the sedan.

  “A pretty pair you make!” Veovis said, a heavy sarcasm in his tone now. “Neither knows where the other is!”

  Aitrus looked to Anna, his eyes concerned, but she shook her head, as if at some unspoken question. Cradling Gehn, she moved past Aitrus, then turned, standing at his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she said, speaking to Lord Veovis. “I am sorry to have troubled you.”

  “No trouble,” he answered, his cold eyes never leaving Aitrus’s face. “No trouble at all.”

  “MASTER AITRUS. THEIR LORDSHIPS WILL SEE you now.”

  Aitrus pulled himself up off the bench, then followed the guildsman along the corridor to where two guards stood before a pair of huge double doors.

  For a week he had wrestled with his conscience, not knowing what to do. It was A’Gaeris’s role in things that worried him most. The man had no love of D’ni, and to bring down D’ni’s favorite son, Veovis, would fit in well with any plans he had for vengeance. All well and good, yet Aitrus had seen the Book, and still had the linking book in his possession. That was Veovis’s hand and no mistake. And A’Gaeris’s indignation, that burning sense of injustice Aitrus had glimpsed the last time they had met, that, too, had seemed genuine.

  Anna had begged him to go straight to Master Jadaris and leave the Maintainers to deal with the matter, but that would have meant going behind Lord Rakeri’s back, and that Aitrus would not do.

  And so, eight days on, he had gone to see Lord Rakeri in his rooms in the Halls of the Guild of Miners. The old man had greeted him warmly. There, over a cup of mulled wine, he had told the old man of his son’s activities.

  Aitrus could see how torn the old man was. He had always treated Aitrus like a second son, even after the breach in Aitrus’s friendship with Veovis, but suddenly there was a coldness, a distance in his manner. The old man had stared long and hard at the linking book, and then he had nodded.

  “Leave it with me, Master Aitrus,” he said, his voice cold and formal, “I shall make sure that the matter is fully investigated.”

  A long silence had followed. But now, a full month after that audience with Rakeri, the matter was to be decided.

  As the doors swung back, Aitrus looked about him. Beside the five Lords who sat behind the great desk on the far side of the chamber, there were six others, seated at desks to either side of the room. To his left were three guild scribes, to his right two senior guildsmen in the Guild of Maintainers, and, slightly apart from them, their Grand Master, the elderly Jadaris.

  There was no sign of Veovis.

  Aitrus felt relief flood him. He had been feeling awkward enough about this, but had Veovis been there in person it would have been far more difficult.

  “Take a seat, Master Aitrus,” Lord R’hira said, looking up from a document.

  Aitrus sat, then glanced at Rakeri. The old man was looking down, distracted, it seemed, the fingers of one hand drumming idly on the leather cover of an official-looking file. He did not look well these days, as if the cares of this inquiry had fallen heavily on his shoulders.

  R’hira looked directly at Aitrus. “In view of what you told us, a unit of the City Guard was sent to the house in J’Taeri District and a thorough search was made. Unfortunately, no trace of any of the papers you mentioned could be found. This is not to say that they do not exist somewhere, but without them we have only your word. That in itself is no small thing, Guild Master Aitrus, yet it is not evidence, as defined by D’ni law.” He paused, then. “It comes down to this. After long consideration we have decided that we cannot possibly risk using the linking book. To risk a third life would be, we felt, a reckless chance, and without the direct evidence of which you sp
eak—that is, the bodies of the two guildsmen—then it is a matter of your word against that of Veovis.”

  Aitrus blinked, surprised.

  “Forgive me, Lord R’hira, but I find this situation intolerable. Either I am a liar or Lord Veovis is. If you will not send another guildsman, I am prepared to go.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then Lord R’hira nodded. “It shall be as you say.”

  Aitrus stood, then walked across and, taking the Book from Lord R’hira, and a Linking Book, he opened the Book in question, placing his hand against the glowing panel.

  There was silence in the room. A few moments later Aitrus reappeared, his face ashen.

  “It is true,” he said. “There are bodies there.”

  THAT EVENING A WARRANT FOR VEOVIS’S arrest was issued. Though the day was now advanced, K’veer still blazed with lights. Every room was lit, every lantern burned brightly. Men from both the City Guard and the Guild of Maintainers were everywhere; in every room and every corridor. It was clear that a thorough search of the island had been undertaken.

  Climbing the great stairway at the heart of the rock, Aitrus began to wonder just what he had set in motion. It was true what people said about the messenger who brings ill news.

  Passing the entrance to the Book Room, Aitrus saw how armed teams of Maintainer guards were waiting there, ready to link into the family Ages. That, as much as anything, told him that they had not yet taken Veovis.

  So he is guilty, he thought, surprised despite all, for some small part of him still held that this was all a mistake and that an explanation would be found. But no. If Veovis was missing, then there could be but a single explanation.

  Master Jadaris was waiting for him in Lord Rakeri’s study, near the very top of the island mansion. It was a regular cave of a room. There were no windows; instead, huge, book-lined shelves filled every inch of the walls.

  “Ah, Aitrus,” Jadaris said, looking up at him from behind the great desk. The Linking Book lay before him, open, the tiny panel glowing in the half-light of the room. “We have searched high and low, but there is no sign of Lord Veovis in D’ni. In the circumstances I have given the order for the family Ages to be searched. That will happen now. But there is one other matter we must deal with.”

  Jadaris waved a hand over the Linking Book. “A guildsman ventured in four hours back. He found another Book at the foot of the slope. It linked back to this very room.”

  Aitrus nodded soberly. There was a moment’s silence and then Master Jadaris stood.

  “So, Aitrus. Will you link through with me?”

  THEY LINKED TO A CAVE ON THE EASTERN slope of a large, mountainous island. A cluster of smaller islands surrounded it, linked by suspended wooden bridges. It was on one of these that they finally found the two guildsmen, lying side by side in a hut beside the cliff’s edge, their hands and feet bound tight. They were long dead, their cloaks stiff with their own dried blood, their throats slit from ear to ear. On the floor nearby was the dagger that had been used to kill them, lying beside its sheath as if abandoned.

  It was Veovis’s weapon. One he had been seen to carry often.

  Aitrus saw how Jadaris stared at the dagger saw the strange flicker in the muscles of his neck, the sudden change in his eyes, and knew that this had finally convinced him. These were his men who had been murdered—his young boys. To see them like this—trussed and butchered—had clearly shocked him deeply.

  As a team of Maintainers arranged to bring the bodies back, Aitrus and Master Jadaris linked back to K’veer. There they were greeted by the news that Veovis had been taken in Nidur Gemat and was being held in the Book Room down below.

  They went down, Aitrus hanging back as Jadaris walked across to confront Veovis.

  Veovis’s hands were bound behind his back. Two guards—Maintainers—stood to either side of him, yet Veovis seemed unrepentant. His head was raised defiantly and his eyes burned with indignation.

  Jadaris held the sheathed dagger out before him. “Is this yours, Master Veovis?”

  “It is,” Veovis said. “What of it?”

  “You do not deny it, then?”

  But Veovis seemed not to hear. He took a step toward Jadaris.

  “What have I done to deserve this treatment, Master Jadaris? Am I a common criminal to be bound and herded like an animal?”

  “We found the bodies,” Jadaris said.

  But Veovis did not seem to be listening. “I am not normally an impatient man, but I warn you, Guildsman. Unbind me now or you shall answer to my father!”

  A shiver went through Jadaris. “It was your father who ordered it.”

  Veovis fell silent; the words had taken him aback. “Impossible,” he said. “He would never have given such an order.”

  “Never?” Jadaris seemed to watch Veovis a moment, then: “Do you deny the charges?”

  “Charges?” Veovis laughed coldly, then tilted his head slightly. His eyes were hostile now. “I do not understand you, Master Jadaris. Of what precisely am I charged?”

  “Of trading in illicit Ages. And of murder.”

  The look of shock in Veovis’s face surprised Aitrus. For a moment Veovis seemed unable to speak, then he shook his head. “But this is ridiculous! I have done nothing.”

  “We have the proof,” Jadaris said coldly. “But I am not your judge, Veovis. At least, not alone.”

  Jadaris seemed to straighten, taking on his full authority, then spoke again.

  “Guild Master Veovis, you will be taken from this place to the Guild Fortress of Irrat where you will be held secure until a date is set for your trial.”

  “My trial?” Veovis’s expression was one of sheer disbelief.

  Jadaris nodded, yet he seemed far from triumphant. “This is a sad day for the guilds, Lord Veovis. You have brought great shame upon us, and even greater shame upon your father.”

  “But I have done nothing!”

  Jadaris glared at him. “Nothing? You will be silent, Guild Master, or I shall have you gagged!”

  Veovis blinked, astonished. His mouth opened, then snapped shut.

  “Good,” Jadaris said curtly. “Now take him from here. Before I am tempted to do to him what he did to those poor boys.”

  AITRUS RETURNED HOME TO FIND THE BLINDS drawn, doctors hurrying to and fro. His mother, Tasera, greeted him in the hallway, her face gaunt, her eyes troubled. Gehn had worsened, it seemed, and almost died. It was she who had finally called in the Healers, when all else seemed hopeless.

  Aitrus went through to the nursery, fearing the worst. Anna was sitting beside the cot, clearly exhausted, staring down at the feverish child as he lay there like a waxwork doll, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. Nearby, a doctor spoke quietly, urgently to one of his colleagues, then, seeing Aitrus, came across.

  “There’s little we can do,” he said sorrowfully. “We have tried several remedies, but the child seems unable to keep anything in his stomach. I fear it is up to the Maker now.”

  Aitrus thanked the man, then went over and knelt beside Anna, resting his hand lightly on her knee.

  “Ti’ana? … Ti’ana? It’s Aitrus. I’m back.”

  She turned her head slowly and looked down at him. “He’s dying, Aitrus. Our son is dying.”

  The desolation in her face was unlike anything he had ever seen. “No,” he said softly. “He’ll come through.”

  But she was not to be consoled. “You did not hear him, Aitrus. The sounds he made. Such awful, dreadful sounds. And the spasms. Twice I thought I’d lost him.”

  “Maybe,” he said, “but he’s still here.”

  He took her hands and clenched them, looking up into her face. “Won’t you fight for him, Ti’ana? Won’t you help our son survive?”

  Anna closed her eyes, pained by his words. “I’ve tried, Aitrus. The Maker knows I’ve tried my best. But I am so tired now. So very, very tired.”

  “Then rest, my love. It’s my turn now.”

  Aitrus stood, th
en, bending down, lifted Gehn from the cot, holding him tightly, securely against his shoulder. The child whimpered a little, then settled against him. He was so light now; there was so very little of him. The lightest breeze would carry him off.

  Aitrus shuddered, filled with an ineffable tenderness for his infant son. “Come now, little one,” he said softly as he carried him from the room. “Let us see what a little sunlight can do for you.”

  VEOVIS LOOKED UP FROM THE SUMMARY DOCUMENT and sighed. It was lies, every word of it, yet even he could see how convincing a case Aitrus had made against him. If the Five believed this—and why should they not?—then he would be found guilty, without a doubt.

  Suahrnir. Suahrnir was the key, but Suahrnir could not be found.

  Veovis’s own statement lay on the desk beside his elbow—six pages in his own hand. At best it seemed naive, at worst a tissue of lies and excuses. He knew which his fellow guildsmen would think.

  They had let him see the evidence against him; the books and documents and letters, all of it written, or so it appeared, in his hand. Good forgeries they were—the best he had ever seen—but forgeries all the same, for he had not written a single word of what they had shown him.

  He had pointed the finger at Aitrus, but they had expected that. It was to be expected, after all. To “humor” him, and perhaps to mollify his father, they had even searched back in the guild records to see whether there might not be some earlier instance of such fraud, one that might be attributable to Aitrus, but there was nothing.

  Aitrus was a clever one. None cleverer. He played the honest man. But Veovis knew better. He knew now what a snake Aitrus was.

  He heard the cell door open behind him and turned to see a guard bring in a pile of clean clothes and place it on the bed in the far corner of the room. Another guard stood in the door, blocking it. The sight of it almost made him laugh, for it suggested that he might try to escape, and when did a D’ni Lord run from his fate?