Chapter 20 – Hura II
It matters little where one has been,
For things are seldom as they seem.
I
Breakfast was nice, as had been the bath and the nice clean suit that fit him surprisingly well, yet what Jorden really craved was sleep. He had not slept well in a very long time.
Taf, however, was hungrier than she was tired. She had not eaten properly in days and now she had been given all the raw meat she could manage. Aestri heaven. And one of her own kind had joined them in conversation, an aestri with a much different life to one upon the sea, and so the source of much interest.
“I've spent most of life in the castle,” Moonwater told them. “Originally sewer cleaning as a cub. Even here it is difficult for aestri, even though the Great One sees us as,” and then she whispered, “equal to other orders.” Then she spoke again in her normal voice. “Well, nearly.”
That was not very likely, and Jorden knew it, but Moonwater had been nice to them and so he attempted to be diplomatic. “I'm surprised that Hura doesn't give the aestri more rights then. It isn't easy for people... aestri like Taf and her friends in Saljid. They're just useful creatures that keep the rats at bay.”
Moonwater frowned. “Hura is able to persuade the council to give more rights to the lowly each year, it can not be done any quicker. There is great opposition to such advancement. It was so difficult for me to receive a formal education that I was forced to quit while my studies were incomplete. The greater orders fear equality.”
“But if Hura is so powerful...”
“She is, but she is not all of the law, and you cannot force people against their oldest beliefs. In the eyes of many we are still the wild beast that their ancestors hunted in the dim ancient forests, and now we approach equality. It is difficult for many to accept. Perhaps it is different in your world.”
Jorden shook his head and wondered how the aestri picked him as not of the Domain. He also wondered if the Great One was truly concerned with the order of the aestri, or whether it was just the hope of an inferior race that sought equality. The assessment officer they had first met had mentioned it as well, however...
It was not a time for such heavy thought. “What I really need now is sleep,” Jorden said before yawning. “And those beds look perfect, if I can just decide which one I prefer.” He glanced in the direction of the largest, wondering how they would be able to talk their way out of the hole they were slipping into. Someone thought that Jorden, or perhaps Taf, was some VIP who deserved such luxury, not some nobodies who had come to discuss the trivial matter of returning home.
“I'm afraid that will have to wait until later,” Moonwater said with what seemed genuine regret. “The Kaedith Mara will wish to speak with you as soon as possible this morning.”
“Kaedith,” Jorden grunted very quietly, their life of luxury was to be extremely short lived it seemed. “I... I don't suppose that you know the reason for my coming to the castle,” he probed. If he had some idea of his supposed purpose then it would help.
Moonwater shook her head. “I haven't heard.” The aestri had an expression one would expect, a wonder of why the man would ask such a question. A test, perhaps. “The shaking lands, I assume,” she added quietly.
That might do. If he could devise a theory, even a totally inaccurate one, then it would soften the blow. It was an imbalance between the worlds caused by my coming to these lands, and if I were returned...
Ok, so the odds were against him. “Good,” he said to cover himself. “The less that know, the better.”
Taf closed her eyes and shook her furry, whiskered head.
II
Moonwater bowed politely and left as the Kaedith Mara entered.
She was not a youthful kaedith as Tsarin had been, yet neither was she the great age of the Kaedith Ellin who was now well past her hundredth cycle. She was, however, more forbidding than either, and less comforting than the assessor had been. Mara certainly did not smile, and neither did she sit. Sitting would have been difficult in her stiff dark robe. Something that resembled a huge stuffed bat was perched upon her head and shoulders, and beads and crystals hung from wherever possible.
“You are Jorden Miles,” she said in a voice that fit the harsh lines of her face, a face that was made up in the worst possible way.
The outsider wondered if her words were a statement or a question. It rang mostly of disbelief. “Yes, and this is Finesilver.” There were two Jorden Miles', he thought. There had to be. That was the problem. It was a world of freak coincidence and now he was being mistaken for the other Jorden Miles.
“This way,” was all Mara said, and walked away.
The officials of the castle were extremely talkative, it seemed, all so very eager to speak their intentions. Jorden sighed and followed on into the passage, as did Taf, still damp from her morning bath. “I don't suppose you can tell us where you are taking us.” He said hopefully.
“You have been granted audience with the private secretary,” the kaedith said, and she did not pretend to enjoy saying it. “Your visit seems to be of some importance, although I find that difficult to believe.” She thudded on along the passage.
Jorden thought it difficult as well, especially since the administration was yet to learn of his purpose. He was receiving the interview he had wanted, but it was for the wrong stupid reason, and he doubted he would get a second chance after this fiasco. “Just incredible, isn't it,” he said aloud.
They were led to a long room that was packed with many more servants of the Great One and given a casual body search, Hura perhaps susceptible to more danger than the bureaucracy cared to admit. They were then scrutinized by several other kaedith who like Mara said very little other than a quiet murmur between themselves. Then the two were taken through several doors, some guarded by two very sombre men in heavy leather garments.
The very old and very wise Hura Ghiana seemed to be in a state of hopeless paranoia if she felt she required this level of protection, although that would not be surprising for a poor old woman who had to be well past her prime. She was supposed to be in excess of a thousand cycles, and was perhaps not well liked for her changes to the status of aestri.
Jorden was too worried about what he would say next to devote too much of his mind to such matters, yet so far they had not been asked any difficult questions That did not stop his heart from racing. The hardest question came from what the outsider assumed was the private secretary, a woman they now faced alone.
“You are sure that it is today?” she asked as they came within her spacious office amongst the labyrinth. “I haven't been advised of a meeting with a Jorden Miles for today.”
Jorden glanced to Taf; Taf glanced to Jorden. “I think so,” he said. “We were directed here by a Kaedith Mara...”
“One of the women said there was a problem in administration,” Taf put in with one of her gentler tones. “Perhaps that is it.”
The common woman of her middle years hummed in return. “If this is where Mara brought you, then this is where you are suppose to be. I'll check whether you are perhaps due for a meeting with Hura perhaps.” And she left the two bewildered travellers sitting within her deep blue office.
Jorden sighed as she left. “Like everything in this world, this castle is a madhouse. Everything is just so consistent and predictable. One minute you feel that you are being escorted to an audience with some feudal king, and must run the gauntlet of his guard; the next moment it seems that you are trying to see a bank manager about a loan or something.”
Taf had absolutely no idea what the man was talking about, except that it was somewhat contradictory, but she nodded anyway.
She was glad when the secretary returned.
“You will receive an audience with the Great One as soon as possible,” the woman told them. “A matter of some importance, it would seem.” And her eyebrows rose with that hint of disbelief.
Jorden nodded and tried to smile.
III
Another waiting room, although not quite. It could well have been a meeting room.
It was quite large, with several plush red chairs arranged in an oval within a white room of a similar shape, and it smelled nice. There were no lamps, just more of the glow-crystals congregating on a silver chain above, and there was a large unlit fireplace. They sat for only a few moments before they were approached by an elderly woman. Finally, at last, Jorden considered, they were face to face with the god of the domain. Or at least a paranoid ruler of a twisted world who had been elevated to godhood.
Jorden stood and swallowed; Taf continued sitting on the rug. The woman did not look like a god, or even a great witch. She was more the image of the stereotype grandmother, a old grey woman who always smiled. She walked toward them, her step quite sure for one of such an unimaginable age, although age was a difficult matter where such magic was involved, and extended a hand in greeting. The multicoloured sleeve of her gown dangling as she did. “You are the young man, Jorden Miles, I believe.”
He took the hand of the woman, a woman with a much younger voice than suited her aging frame. “Yes,” he began, and wondered how to address a god. He had thought there would have been some form of preparation for the uninitiated. “Your... Ah, Highness.” That wasn't it, he was sure.
The old woman just smiled. “Please, take a seat Jorden Miles, and perhaps you would like a cushion, Finesilver.” The aestri shook her head, ruffling her mane. “This should not take long in any case.” She sat toward the opposite edge of the oval.
“Such formalities are unnecessary with me, Jorden miles, for I am but Eva Tesan, private secretary to the Great One,” she went on, noting the slight relief in the face of the man. “Hura herself is occupied at this time, but is eager to speak with you both. There are however matters to discuss before that time.”
Jorden relaxed back into the chair and wondered how difficult the next few moments could be. He had options to consider: whether to tell all now or lie his way to Hura. Either way could spell doom. “Yes,” was all he said, dreading to say anything more.
The old woman smiled the same grandmother smile. “You are to be taken to see Hura Ghiana quite soon, but there are certain preparations to be made. It is not wise to have audience with the Great One without some council. She is not what many expect, both far less and far more. She is oldest and wisest, the hand of all power, the giver of all strength, the bringer of all law. She is not one to be taken lightly, and never one to be angered.
“Looks are deceptive, Jorden Miles, although you would know something of that already, and Hura will not look as you expect, nor will she act as you expect. Her swings of mood are vast and, as I have said, she is not one to anger. Lives are lost easily in the presence of the Great One.” The woman shook her head. “Do not be deceived.”
Jorden swallowed again. There was a lot that wasn't right, and an image was forming that he didn't like. Facts were coalescing: age and power and might, the attributes of a god. And this was a god in a world of a variety of intelligent creatures like dragons and lions and odd giraffes. And then there was Hura.
Nobody had ever said that Hura was a woman, not that Jorden could recall, and none had even spoken of her as kaedith or sarisan, or any order. Perhaps Hura wasn't. The god of nightmare was something else, something far more powerful and long lived than feeble humanity. It had all come too far, and now the man sweated as panic approached.
“Look,” he began, wording his admission within. “I just came to...”
“That is a matter for Hura,” the old woman interrupted, “not I.” Then she chuckled softly. “I see that I have brought you to fear Hura, and that is good, for she is certainly one to fear. You would be advised not to lose that fear, Jorden Miles.” The voice may well have been grandma's, but the words were that of the Grim Reaper.
IV
Jorden stood before a door feeling naked and vulnerable.
The god, Hura, swept from above, her talons outstretched, five of her heads spouting flame while the other three hungrily gnashed their teeth... But Jorden shook aside the disturbing vision that plagued his mind, trying to concentrate on the nearest thing to reality that was available, and that was the endless halls of the witch-god's black castle.
Eva Tesan was not to accompany Jorden and Taf into the presence of Hura Ghiana, and that was not a good sign. In fact it brought a greater dread than her words could have hoped to bring, her last words being, “The Great One is at work within her tower and will not wish to be disturbed before she is ready to receive you.” And that would have been all quite nice if it were not for the fact that the two travellers from Saljid had been left alone before a blank door that led to the work-place of the Great One without having any way of knowing if Hura Ghiana was busy or not.
On the other side of that door was the great and powerful witch-god of the Domain. She could well be salvation and a ticket home, or something much worse. Jorden tried not to consider the alternatives. He also tried not to imagine exactly who and what the God, Hura was. The vision of the eight headed beast was hard to surpress, however.
Jorden could not bare to wait any longer, and he swung the door slowly open, preparing himself for the worst. Death, perhaps, but if this other Jorden Miles was so useful he had a good chance he would not be instantly slain. It was someone else's mistake after all, not his.
The door lay open.
There was only one entity within the room beyond the door, and it was Hura. Eva had made it very clear that it would be none other, and for Finesilver there were few surprises. Jorden, however, found that Hura was precisely not what he had been expecting. The room was, it was the cluttered, grubby room of any of the practising kaedith, but not Hura. Few things were ever as expected in this world.
She was not a dragon. She was not a great and powerful beast, or some odd ghostly apparition or god or devil.
She was just a woman – almost.
Hura wasn't old or wrinkled, or particularly wise-looking. No flowing dark robes fell from her shoulders, no bubbling cauldron bubbled before her, and there was certainly no black peaked hat upon her brow. Jorden had not expected the last, yet even the lesser witches Tsarin and Ellin had seemed more powerful, a deep penetrating gaze and a mind within that seemed beyond their years. Yet this Hura...
Jordan approached unsure, Taf trotting at his side, gazing upon the relatively standard kaedith work-place. He cleared his throat to gain the attention of the witch-god, yet she continued at her work, a dozen crystals balanced precariously within her grasp, several of them reds and yellows. Seeing crystals, Jorden noted. The reds were inserted within the massive glass structure with surgical care, a sweaty palm wiped on small denim-clad buttocks after each operation.
She was just a girl.
The great and powerful Hura Ghiana seemed little older than Jorden himself, a girl of seventeen or eighteen at the most, a slight blonde with steel grey eyes and tiny breasts that barely contoured her green T-shirt. Another palm was wiped on her Levis, the bug-eye cluster of crystals all but complete, then she backed and stood to her full height, rubbing her lower back after leaning for so long over her work.
Deceptively young, yet taller than the diminutive Taf had been in her second form, a common woman who certainly did not appear to have spent a thousand cycles as she now was. Jordan watched as she moved silently to the far wall, a curved white wall that her shadow danced upon in the lamplight, and looked toward the hideous crystalline structure, squinting as she squatted.
“I'm Jorden Miles,” he began, suddenly more brave. Hura was not one to instil fear in even the most fearful. “I'm from the world beyond...”
“Yeah, hi,” Hura said, and that was all. She had a sweet voice for the greatest of witches.
She went on with her work, two huge chunks of amethyst shifted into place. Nothing happened. Hura frowned. “Crap,” she said quietly, and decided to sit in her decrepit wooden chair and
gaze upon her visitors. Then she puffed a breath that blew her fringe from her eyes.
Jorden wondered when the dream would ever end. “We were told that you wished to see us,” he began hopefully, his own request withheld for the present.
“Oh? Did I?” Hura returned. “I thought you came within the walls of this castle to see me?” She sniffed and scratched her nose and leg, and generally behaved very much unlike a god.
“We did,” Taf put in.
“Originally,” Jorden added, “and we were given places in the queue...”
“And were destined to wait a lifetime for me to see you,” Hura finished. She crossed her legs and relaxed into the chair. “In the hope that the great and powerful Hura Ghiana might one day hear your plea and return you to your precious Tasmania.”
Jorden frowned. “Then you know?”
Hura grunted and looked away. “I'm god, remember, or so you've said. I know everything.” She chuckled. “And who the hell do you think brought you here in the first place!” Then she stood and walked toward him, Jorden's jaw dropping as the witch approached, Taf gazing upon her momentarily before murmuring to herself and returning to the licking of a paw. “Do you think the portals create themselves?” Hura added as she came to him. “Some do, of course, but not a sustained bidirectional transference as you experienced. Some entries into the these lands are not so pleasant. Some die!”
She stood close a moment, the face of the outsider scanned in detail, deep memories welling. It was a face she had glimpsed only a few weeks before, and yet a young man she had known an eternity. As for his usefulness in the coming days...
Hura turned from him, moving toward the cluttered west wall, a wall that was largely hidden by shelving and dusty grey books, jars of fluid and powder, and the usual range of witches crystals, brass rods and the rest.
“Your cat is it?” The witch-god smiled, a thin gesture unseen by the two who had come so far to stand before her. Taf snapped her gaze toward the woman, something of a choked growl issued forth, Jorden frowning. “Perhaps you wish for some nourishment, outsider, and a bowl of milk for your pussy.”
Taf snorted in reply, yet noticed Jorden smouldering at her side. She managed a gesture that resembled a shrug. “I am aestri, and she is a being of the highest order. She may call me what she wishes!”
“But I didn't come to be abused,” Jorden flared, “and I don't care who you think you are...”
“Then why did you come!” The voice of Hura suddenly roared, Jorden buffeted by the force of it. It was a voice and power that seemed totally unsuited to what was not much more than a girl. She snatched a rod of silver from a cluster at the side of the shelving, a irregular fist sized chunk of clear crystal stuck awkwardly to one end. “Come for a taste of power perhaps,” she hissed, “or a chance to return to the sad lonely life you left behind.” Hura shook her head as she faced the two, the rod held firm within both hands. “And now you stand to defend your pet!”
Jorden shook suddenly in rage, the warnings of the private secretary forgotten, the wide-eyed rage of the girl before him ignored. “Taf is a friend and companion, not a pet!”
His shouted words did not echo, the room suddenly quiet.
In a moment Hura spoke quietly, the words of the weary, as weary she now was. “Hypocrite.” A head was again shaken, this time more solemnly, the witch fondling her staff. “When Taf looked at least partly human you could barely keep your hands off of her, now you find it difficult to even look at her.” Then a snort. “At least it seems that something remains, enough for you to defend her against another.”
The aestri sighed, the Great One indeed knew much.
Hura directed the staff casually toward the aestri. There was a blinding flash, then a piercing scream that flooded the room.
Jorden glared first toward Hura, shouted, then turned to the wailing aestri as she arched back in apparent agony. Her eyes became glowing coals, then fiery voids radiating a hot red light. Other orifices soon issued the same light, as did jagged seams in the silver grey pelt. Muscles writhed, the red light replaced with cool electric blue. Jorden pressed his eyelids firm as the light threatened to blind him.
There was then a shock of wind and heat, then quiet.
His heart was still thumping wildly when he dared peek, Jorden fearful of what the wild-eyed Hura had dared do to Taf.
The aestri herself still sat panting on the floor, a silver-grey pelt crumpled in warm fat nearby. She remained naked, only now it was somewhat more noticeable than it had been before. Surprisingly she did not seem overly concerned with either her state of undress or the horrific transition she had just suffered.
Hura tossed Taf a short cloak she had collected from a hook on the rear of the chair. “Come,” she then said, and like all the inhabitants of the castle, indeed the domain, seemed to do, she quietly walked away.
Jorden looked to Taf as she stood to full height and put on the coat. She sighed and stretched, then blinked several times before running fingers through her oily, shoulder length hair, her wet white skin glistening in the flickering light. “I think I need another bath,” she said calmly, then followed Hura from the room.
It took Jorden several more seconds to do the same.
V
If Hura's tower was really a tower, then it was certainly a huge one, the garden was testimony to that. And it was a pleasant, sunny garden that was somehow not beneath the same cyclonic sky that shadowed the rest of the land. It was also a blue sky, but Jorden did not notice that immediately. He was still getting over seeing Taf peeled open like some over-ripe fruit.
“You not did take the advice of my secretary,” Hura said as she came to a table of white iron lace surrounded by chairs of the same. “They say that it is not wise to anger the great and powerful one.” She smiled wearily. “My servants are often over-enthusiastic in their work. They have an image of power and wisdom to maintain.
“Please have a seat,” she then directed. “I hope things will be better between you now that Taf is returned to second form.” They all sat, the aestri's smile now not easily misinterpreted, a show of cherry lips on smooth white skin.
The witch-god was now quite pleasant after the outburst earlier, and Jorden couldn't deny the truth in her words. He calmed accordingly, weighing the new difficulties within his mind. He smiled to the much nicer version of Taf, at least to his eye, the aestri playfully raising an eyebrow. “Better,” he admitted. “I still loved Taf as a cat, but where I come from... well...” He held her hand, a cool comfort.
“You don't need to explain,” Hura returned. “I was making a point. I make points such as that whenever possible keep nibbling at the class barriers. It's a private obsession.” She sighed. “Now I fear we have more important matters to discuss, like your wish to return home, perhaps.”
Jorden nodded. “If possible, but if you're busy at the moment I can certainly wait.” What the outsider really wanted to know was why they were even in the presence of the Great One, and how they had jumped that enormous queue.
Hura hissed a breath. “You realize that the longer you remain within the Domain the more difficult the return. You have been within these lands for some time, Jorden Miles, and you were not completely healthy even before you came.”
“So I've heard, but I still want to go,” he said. “Just for a while. I need to sort a few things out and let my mother know that I'm still alive at least. Then maybe I could come back here.”
The witch smiled. “Then it is settled.” There was a brief pause. “It will take a few days to prepare, but I can't see that this will be a problem.” The words of Hura surprised Jorden Miles, but she was lying, she had to be lying. “There will be certain conditions, of course.” He shrugged. She might not be lying, but there was a catch.
And Hura Ghiana smiled even more broad. “I will be accompanying you.”
The catch was a surprising one, and certainly had its dangers. “I don't think my mother would be all that
pleased.” If he showed up with a girl it would be bad enough, but with an older looking girl... Even worse.
“I brought you here for a reason, Jorden Miles,” Hura said in a somewhat more sombre tone. “I brought you here to perform a function, and you will perform it. I will allow you a brief, and I stress brief visit to your home before the mission, and upon completion of that mission I will allow you to do as you wish.”
The god was making quite a number of assumptions. “Allow?” Jorden braved to say. “I'll help you if I can in exchange for the trip home, but just because you think you're some kind of god doesn't mean you can force me to do your work.” Jorden knew he was being a little rash, Hura might wish no more of him than Captain Orani had. It was just the way she demanded it. More than that. It was the way she ran her whole Domain...
Hura Ghiana simply smiled an unpleasant smile. “Oh I don't think I will need to force anyone to do anything, Jorden. You will do this quite willingly.” Then she shrugged. “If not then I will send you back into your world, and you would do well to say farewell to your dear Taf. You will likely not see her again.”
The secretary was right. Hura was more vicious than she first seemed. The outsider felt his anger rise, a shaking within. “You wouldn't dare. If you ever did anything to hurt her...”
Hura shook her head, and there was a certain sadness that caught his eye. “I would save her for you, if I could,” she said. “I would save all those that I could. But I fear I can't save the Domain, I've already tried and failed, and I will die with it if I must.
“But you can do it, Jorden, I honestly think that you can. You might say that it came to me in a vision, and so I have brought you here.” The witch sighed and stood from the white iron chair to pace. “I don't deny that I hoped for better, yet I fear it was inevitable that it would be you. And now our time runs short, Jorden. In another two cycles at most, the Domain will not exist, not as it does now. It will be shards amongst shards.”
Jorden couldn't believe any of it. “Me, how? I don't see how I can save this madhouse. I don't even know what's the matter with it.” He paused... the quakes. He knew there were earthquakes that threatened to cause widespread devastation, perhaps more. They might destroy a world. “I don't see how I can help...”
Hura shrugged. “You know something of the machines of your world. I don't. You will be more help than you can imagine. But if you don't wish to help me... us, then don't. I might get lucky and fix it myself.”
The outsider recalled the lack of mechanical knowledge that was spread throughout the Domain: Hura's Domain. The Witch-God had come to them, brought them out of the primeval slime, but had perhaps brought only her knowledge, and maybe she knew very little about machines. Jorden wondered how the machines were ever built in the first place, though he did recall that most things seemed imported from places like Thoria.
He also wondered why Hura wore such odd clothing for the world of dream, and where it came from, he had not noticed any of the clothing vendors advertising Levi jeans. He also wondered what mechanical gadget was in need of repair, perhaps the great clockworks that kept the Domain and its grey stones turning. He wondered how he would face his mother. He wondered why Hura would be there.
Jorden Miles wondered a great many things.
Long Days in Paradise - The First Book of the Shards of Heaven Page 21