The Shades of Time and Memory

by Storm Constantine

  Cal pulled a sour face. “Thanks for telling me. Where is he?”

  “Safe,” Thiede said. “I won't tell you where, because it's dangerous for you to know. What you don't know, you can't reveal.”

  “I understand that,” Cal said. “Must he be hidden away for ever?”

  “No,” Thiede replied. “Only one har in the earthly realm knows the harling's identity and he can be trusted completely. The child will not be told of his heritage. He must discover it for himself. And if he doesn't, then that is meant to be.”

  “So basically, if I ever want to see him, I have to wait for him to find me.”

  Thiede nodded. “That is a fairly accurate assessment.”

  “I think he will.”

  Thiede stood up. “Let's go back inside. We'll begin with the next stage of your training, and later we'll indulge ourselves with good food and wine. We have spent little time together, and you won't be here for much longer. Remember, you have a son who you can see, very soon. We should talk about him.”

  “Tyson?” Cal grimaced. “He probably hates my guts.”

  “He regrets you cause him so much inconvenience,” Thiede said, “or he will do, at any rate. I realise now that he is the most important har in Galhea. I had always believed it would be Azriel. I like surprises. It would get very boring if I knew everything.”

  Cal glanced at Thiede sidelong. “Training, then more talk,” he said. “I want you to tell me what you know about Tyson.”

  “My pleasure,” Thiede said. “That is something we can discuss freely.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was a few weeks after the autumn equinox, when the mists from the lake were at their most concealing, and the air smelled of burning and ripe fruit. Moon and Ember went apple gathering in the sprawling old gardens at the edge of the city, where wasps were getting drunk on the windfalls. Moon polished the best of fruit with his shirt and Ember arranged them in baskets. They intended to take them to the dock to sell to boat-hara who might pay a few chips for refreshment before moving on to the more intoxicating delights of the ale houses.

  Business went well and by early afternoon, they had earned enough to buy steaming mugs of spiced milk from a tea house and sit for a few hours at a table outside to watch hara come and go along the lane. It was close to the docks and many travellers wandered by to sample the wares of the refreshment booths, cafés and inns. Moon became aware of being watched only when a shiver unaccountably fizzed up his spine.

  For a moment, he felt totally unsafe and dizzy, then glanced to the side. It was one of those life-defining moments. The lane, the hara all around, faded into a blur. Sound seemed dulled. All Moon saw was a pair of eyes gazing back at him intently. He knew them and yet he didn't. His face went hot and he had to look away. Leaning closer to Ember, Moon whispered, “That har over there is staring at me in a really weird way.”

  “Where?” Ember asked, neck craning.

  “Don't look!” Moon hissed. “To my right across the street.”

  “I have to look,” Ember said. “Otherwise how can I see what you mean?”

  “Be discreet.”

  After a few moments, Ember said, “No har's staring at you.”

  Moon dared to look himself. “He isn't now, but he was. The pale-haired one.”

  The har in question had, like Moon, leaned closer to his companion, a dark-haired har dressed in black, who was sitting with his back to the street. Even as Moon and Ember looked on, the dark har turned in his seat and gazed right at them.

  Moon felt a chill in his flesh. “It's the Tigron!” he said. “Look at him!”

  “Don't be ridiculous,” Ember said, although his voice did not sound certain. “He does look like Snake, though.”

  “Why are they staring at us? Who are they? Are they Gelaming?”

  “They are too scruffy and ordinary to be Gelaming, surely,” Ember said. “They look like wanderers, hara of no tribe. They're probably traders and they're only staring at us because we're staring at them.”

  “That one looks like Snake. You said so.”

  “You want to talk to them?” Ember asked, in an unusually sharp tone. “Go over, then. It's not big deal.”

  “I don't want to talk to them,” Moon said. “I think we should go.” He had told Ember very little about his family history, even though he knew Ember was aware of the basic details, and he'd said nothing about how Snake feared the Tigron would soon come for him. Moon thought it would sound too improbable and dramatic and that Ember might think he was stupid, or else get into the idea far too much and then it wouldn't be private any more.

  “Just ignore them,” Ember said. “You're drawing attention to yourself. What's the matter with you?”

  Moon moved his chair a little, so that he wasn't so visible, but he didn't feel comfortable. If the Tigron had come looking for his brother, maybe he'd be in disguise. Maybe he'd pretend to be a trader. There could be Gelaming warriors hidden all over the place. He finished his drink quickly. “I have to go.”

  “Moon, what's got into you? You look scared.”

  “I am scared,” Moon said.

  “Why?”

  Moon shook his head. Perhaps the time had come to confide in Ember a little more, but not here. He wanted to feel safe first. “I'll explain later. Please. Let's go.”

  “OK.” Ember got to his feet. “Oh... too late.”

  “What?”

  Moon glanced round and saw that the dark-haired har was coming over to them.

  “We could run,” Ember said.

  Moon couldn't move. Half of him yearned to comply with Embers' suggestion but another part was brimming with curiosity. This har looked like so much like Snake it was uncanny. Snake would have looked like this before he'd been injured.

  The har halted a few paces from where Moon stood and regarded him inscrutably.

  “Yes?” Moon snapped defensively.

  “I am from the south,” said the har, “looking for family in these parts. Forgive me, but you look very familiar. My companion tells me there is a strong resemblance between us.”

  Moon was so stunned by these words, he didn't know what to say.

  “Are you the Tigron?” Ember asked, a question so bizarre in its directness and honesty that Moon almost laughed.

  The strange har, clearly more at ease, laughed spontaneously. “No! Do you think the Tigron would walk the streets of a Uigenna enclave so freely?” He paused. “Why would you think that?”

  “Don't say anything!” Moon cried.

  “Who are you looking for?” Ember asked, folding his arms.

  “A har named Dorado.”

  “We don't know anyhar of that name,” Ember said.

  “He may well have changed it. You do not have to be suspicious. I mean him no harm. He is a relative of mine, from the old times.”

  “He looks like you,” Ember said to Moon. “Maybe you are related. Perhaps you should take him to Snake.”

  “Ember, shut up!”

  The pale-haired har had sauntered over to join them and now stood with his hands in his pockets observing the proceedings. He jerked his head in Moon's direction and said to his companion, “You're so alike he could be your son. This can't be a coincidence.”

  The dark-haired har nodded thoughtfully and asked Moon, “Who are your father and hostling? Please tell me, it is important.”

  Moon wanted to resist and be silent, but the dark stranger's gaze was compelling, his voice commanding. “Snake Jaguar is my father,” he said. “My hostling, Silken, is dead.”

  The pale har frowned at his friend. “Does that mean anything to you?”

  The dark har grimaced. “No, but that is no indication.” He ducked his head to Moon. “I would like to meet your father.”

  “Who are you?” Moon demanded.

  “Terez,” the har said. “I was known as Terez Cevarro.”

  This name meant nothing to Moon, because his father had never told him his old family name, nor had he ever
mentioned any members of his human family apart from Pellaz. Was it possible this even was unconnected with Snake's fears about the Gelaming?

  “I was incepted to the Uigenna,” said the dark har. “I am no enemy of yours.”

  “Take him to Snake,” Ember said. “I really think you should.”

  “I don't know...” Moon was so shaken up he couldn't think straight. These hara were both so tall, looming over him. He felt weak.

  The pale-haired har said, “Look, we just want to find Dorado. Maybe your father can help us. Then we'll be on our way.”

  Moon looked into this har's face and felt a strange sensation. It was the shock of recognition, which was what had made him feel so odd when he'd first noticed the strangers. He'd never seen this har before, or anyhar like him, yet it was as if he had memories connected with him. “I could ask Snake for you,” he managed to say at last.

  “I would rather speak to him face to face,” said the dark har. “This is most important.”

  “You're really not Gelaming?”

  The pale-haired har grinned. “My father was a Varr, my hostling Uigenna. Is that pedigree enough for you?”

  It should be, but Moon remembered what Snake had told him about Gelaming torture victims. He was still torn as to what to do.

  “Ask him if he will see us,” said the dark har. “We will wait here for a word from you.”

  “Is that wise?” asked the pale-haired har.

  “Let it be a mark of trust.”

  Leaving Ember with the strangers, Moon ran all the way home. It was nearly dark by the time he stumbled up the Reliquary steps. He felt light-headed, his mind filled with the image of the two strangers. They had affected him deeply. He wanted to return to them with pleasing news.

  Snake met Moon on the stairs outside his rooms. Moon was taken by surprise, because Snake so rarely left his private warren. It was look coming upon a ghost in the darkness. Moon knew at once he didn't have to explain too much. Snake's fierce and wide-eyed expression revealed he already knew somehar had been asking about him.

  “They are not Gelaming,” Moon said hurriedly. “They want to meet with you. One is named Terez. He is looking for a har named Dorado.”

  Snake's expression was now unreadable, although Moon was sure an utter storm of feeling was thrashing about beneath the calm surface. “It is time,” he said. “Bring him to me.” With these words, he moved back towards his rooms.

  “Wait!” Moon said. “Is this Terez connected to the Tigron? Do you know him? Was I wrong to speak to him? Tell me!”

  “He is the Tigron's brother,” said Snake. “And this I did not foresee, but I will be very surprised if he has come of his own volition.”

  “Who is Dorado?”

  Snake inhaled long and slow through his nose. “I am,” he said. He went into his rooms and slammed the door.

  Moon could tell from very early acquaintance with his hura, his father's brother, that Terez was not a har prone to displays of emotion. Normally, he could conceal his feelings beneath an impenetrable exterior. But when he first laid eyes on Snake, the defensive mask was ripped away and what Moon saw was naked shock. Moon hadn't thought to mention it on the way to the Reliquary, but of course Terez had no idea what had happened to Snake. He didn't know about the injuries.

  “You think I'd be better off dead,” Snake said dryly. “Kindly contain your thoughts. They are insulting. Pellaz has sent you. Say what he intends you to say.”

  “He needs you.”

  Snake laughed coldly. “Thank you for being honest, for not pretending you are here for any other reason. My answer, for what it's worth, is that I do not care. Now you may leave, although I know you won't.”

  “Dorado, you should hear the story. I can imagine what you think, but you know so little.”

  “I am Snake Jaguar. There is no Dorado. I left him, and the rest of you, behind. This is what I am now. Pellaz took the hand that was offered to him and it has served him well. He has won much. Now he must deal with the consequences himself.”

  “We are still brothers,” Terez said. “I have learned enough not to deny my blood. Speak to me alone. I ask only this.”

  “I knew you went to him,” Snake said, “but that was all. I never thought he would send you, although that was perhaps the obvious plan. You do deny your blood, Terez, because you have denied your Wraeththu heritage. You are Gelaming now, whatever you've said to my son. And you bring a Gelaming sorcerer with you.” He glanced coldly at the pale-haired har. “I know that face, although I can tell he is second generation. That is Cal's spawn, if I'm not mistaken.”

  The pale-haired har uttered a choked laugh. “I am not a Gelaming sorcerer! I am Varrish. Cal is my hostling, Terzian was my father. You know of him, of course.”

  Snake raised his eyebrows. “That is an interesting heritage. Now you are one of the Tigron's cats-paws. Your father's spirit must be proud. You have no right to call yourself Varrish. It is an insult to his memory.”

  “You speak in ignorance,” said the pale-haired har. “Many Parsic hara still revere Terzian's memory. We are a conquered people, as are you. We are not that different.”

  “I think we are,” Snake said, his voice full of implications. He drew in his breath. “Moon, take this turncoat somewhere and keep his busy. I will talk to Terez for a few minutes. Keep away from Raven. He must not know we have visitors.”

  Moon could think of nothing to do with the stranger except show him round the Reliquary. He had to carry a flaming torch because night had come.

  “I'm Tyson,” said the har. “In a way we are related too. The Aralis dynasty has close connections to the House of Parasiel and my hostling is a consort of the Tigron.”

  This sounded like gibberish to Moon, who still couldn't think straight. He thrust the torch towards a shattered a cabinet full of old bones.

  Tyson obligingly peered into it. “The family likeness between the Cevarros is astounding,” he said. “Terez and Dorado have a sister too, called Mima. She is Kamagrian, which is a kind of Wraeththu off-shoot. She lives in Shilalama.”

  “Don't tell me all this,” Moon blurted out.

  “Why not? Aren't you curious? Or is it that your father has forbidden you to know the truth about the past?”

  “I don't want to know it,” Moon said. “There's too much of it. It makes me head reel. You are the enemy of all Wraeththu.”

  Tyson laughed. “That's right. I've been told that before, but perhaps you are mixing me up with Cal. He's far more deadly than I'll ever be.”

  Moon realised he was being mocked. “The Gelaming are the enemy. I don't go with you, and neither will my father.”

  “Your father will not be able to resist Terez's powers of persuasion, I assure you. Why deny your heritage? It seems senseless to be living here in a shanty town when you could have so much. Aren't you the slightest bit curious?”

  Moon paused for a moment. “Do you know the Tigron?”

  “Yes, sort of. You probably look just like he did when Cal stole him away from his home and made him Wraeththu. Full circle. It seems no coincidence that here I am now, Cal's son, ready to steal you away too.”

  Moon was unsure how to interpret these remarks and thought it best to ignore them. “Snake knows the Tigron will put us in danger. He knows these things. He is never wrong.”

  “Perhaps we are all in danger,” Tyson said. “Is your father afraid of what he knows?”

  Moon knew he shouldn't answer that. He shrugged awkwardly.

  “If you are in danger, little friend,” Tyson said softly, “part of it is because you are unaware of your own power, or the potential for it. Pellaz seeks to gather the Cevarros together and he has been very successful so far. Dorado, your father, was the last one, but now there is you as well.”

  “What does the Tigron want Snake to do?”

  “I don't know all his plans and if Terez knows, he would never betray a confidence. If you heard the whole story, of how Pellaz became Tigron, and wh
at happened after, it might help you understand. I could tell it to you.”

  “In a few minutes?”

  Again, Tyson laughed. “Terez will be busy for quite some time. Trust me on that.”

  There were few comfortable places to sit in the Reliquary, so Moon took Tyson to his own room. For the first time in his life, he was aware of how musty and dingy it was. Tyson glowed like a clean flame within it. He was sleek and fit and had lived a privileged life. Perhaps he had seen the buildings that other hara had made. Perhaps he had built one himself. As Moon made coffee, which was always a lengthy process, owing to the primitive facilities, he filled the awkward silence with his questions. “Where you come from, have hara made new buildings?”