Melianarrheyal

by G. Deyke

  ~*~

  Ty tells me very little of himself, and I do not ask. I like his stories, but I don't like him; I would rather he tell me of gods and prophecies than of his own life. In turn I say nothing of myself – nor do I speak much at all – until he asks.

  “How do you know of these caves? The Desert-folk do not often show them to outsiders, nor do they know of a way through them, as you claim to.”

  For a long, long time I say nothing. I do not like to recall that time. But I shall have to recall it soon enough, to lead the way to the well, and I don't want to leave his question unanswered. I must say something.

  I try to leave things out, and tell as little of the story as I dare, but whenever I make an omission he asks me about it, and I will not lie to him unless I must. I am a terrible liar.

  “I... I was in Qualin, once. A while ago. Several years.”

  “For a day,” he remembers.

  I nod, and go on haltingly. “I... left through the well. In the center of the city.”

  “You fell in?” I can hear the disbelief in his voice.

  I nod, shake my head, nod. “Nnnnye – nn – I. Not... really. I. I fell.” I am at a loss, and I don't know how to tell him that. I don't want to tell him. I don't want to remember. I look at the sand beneath my feet. “In a way.”

  “Did you now or didn't you?” I can't tell if he's annoyed or amused.

  I keep my eyes down, feel my face burning. I mumble, “I was thrown in.”

  “Ah. Go on.”

  “I fell... I didn't die. Deep water, broke my fall.” I find that I can't bring myself to say this in full sentences. I speak in broken phrases. “Dark... but the water,” I glance around briefly for Mel, afraid to say this if she is too close, “glowed.” I make my voice very small.

  “Ah? What did you do?

  Indeed I did not do very much at all at first. I was still afraid and on edge from having left Quiyen and my family so shortly before, and I did not want to go on, to live, to do anything at all. At first I swam desperately, needing air; and then I found that at the edge of the well the water was shallow enough to sit, and there I sat with my head in my hands, shaking and coughing up water and waiting for the world to be all right again.

  The world itself never changed, but after the bucket had been raised and lowered several times by the people up above, I knew that I couldn't sit there waiting any longer. And I could never go back. I hurt, inside, and I didn't know how to fix it; usually I would run to my mother or to Silwen, but now I could never do that again. I could not go back. I could not climb out of the well, and I could not go back to Quiyen, and I could not be seen in Qualin again.

  I was in a calm part of a river that flowed beneath the ground and gave Qualin its water. It was very dark, and in its own way it was very comfortable, for it reminded me a little of the temples; but the water cast its own light, by which I could see quite well enough.

  I could not go back up to Qualin, for I'd surely be killed again – for a third time – and perhaps this time they would succeed in killing me. So I would have to find another way out. I walked, not knowing whither I might go nor what I could do when I arrived, only because there was nothing else I could do.

  For a very long time I wandered, always following the flow of the stream. The caves were intricate and very large, and many times I lost my way. Sometimes the passages were entirely filled with water, so that I could not stay with the river; and sometimes I took paths where there was no water at all, walking in blind darkness. Sometimes the river took many paths at once, and I had to choose which one to follow.

  In the end there were only so many paths I could take. I tried everything, or nearly everything, before I went far, and I had to go over the same paths again and again so many times that the way was burned into my memory. That is how I know I shall be able to guide Mel through the caves.

  At long last I came to a place where light came from above, and I found a round patch of blue sky there. It was painfully bright after so much dark, and I saw no way to climb up, but it was the first I had seen of the sky in so long that I thought it might be the only way out. I waited there, on the large heap of sand beneath the hole, until someone came by.

  When someone did, I was sick with hunger. I had not eaten since I left Quiyen. The Desert-folk who found me pulled me out of the hole on a length of knotted rope, and took me with them, and cared for me for some time. I was so glad to have hope of life again that I cast my fear aside, and I was grateful to the Desert-folk although they were strangers, and if they had had no insect I might have been happy enough to stay with them.

  They told me about the caves where they had found me: they said the river was sacred to the Queen of the Dark-Dust. She is said to reside in those caves, somewhere. That is why the water glows, and why there is nothing alive in those caves except the water itself.

  The Queen of the Dark-Dust is a goddess over life and death, and of clear seeing, and of soil. Soil in which to grow plants is rare in the Desert, where they give it the name dark-dust, and so she is perhaps the mightiest god of the Desert. They say she is a healer and that she turns fate.

  They told me that if she had allowed me to pass through the caves alive, I must yet have some part to play in fate. They said that the shining water goes dark if it is lifted by a bowl or by those who disrespect her or who go through life using others for gain, and wish to take the water only for their own light. They said that it shines brightly in the hands of some who respect her, and respect the world, and take no more than she is willing to give. They saw that the water dimmed when I touched it, but did not go completely dark; and so they said I must neither respect nor disrespect the Queen, and while I have some purpose yet to fulfill, it is nothing the Queen herself wishes me to do.

  They told me that once, long ago, in a time of great drought, an elder of some Desert-clan prayed to the Queen for aid. She appeared to him in a dream, and led him to this spot. He dug wildly until he hit rock, and cleared the sand from this place; and there was one in his clan who had a great nature talent, so strong that she might move the rock, and she made the hole; and the people let themselves down and they saw the shining water and they knew that they were saved. They thanked the Queen, and they filled their waterskins, and they knew that the place was sacred.

  Now they go to the caves for water in time of drought; and also they use the sacred water for many of their ceremonies; and their elders meditate in the darkness of the cave; and sometimes they bathe things in the sacred water so that these things may be given some small sacredness themselves. Every clan in the Desert comes to this place, no matter how far away their village may be.

  And so they fed me and nourished me and took me with them, for a time. They were interested to learn of the well which took from the Queen's water, and they did not hate me although I am kretchin. It seems the clansmen of the Desert have a strange respect for scavengers, even kretchin, and while they did not wish to keep me with them forever they were glad to help me regain my strength. “Kill not the scavenger,” they said, and they did not kill me.

  We traveled toward the mountains, and were quite near them when they finally asked me how I came to be in the well at all. Like Ty, they did not believe that I could fall in by accident and not climb out again. When they heard that I was thrown in for stealing, they left me at once. The people of the Desert may respect scavengers, but they have no love for thieves.

  But I was near enough the mountains that I could make my way up them alone, and I did; and thus I came to Therwil.