Burying the Shadow

by Storm Constantine

  There was a knock on the door behind me and I went back into the room. The maid had arrived to scrub my back for me. She went into the adjoining room and began to run me a bath. Hot water, plumbed in; I would bathe every day to take advantage of this luxury.

  As the girl patiently massaged my grubby flesh, I relaxed sleepily in the warm water. Anxieties seemed to flow away from me along with the dirt from my skin. Suddenly the whole business of the Host and the phenomena in Khalt seemed unreal, or the product of hysteria. What had happened to me out there on the road? Too much time spent alone? Too much imagination? Here, in the relaxed atmosphere of Sacramante, all my wild assertions of conspiracy theories, ancient predatory races and the walking dead seemed absurd. Perhaps the conspiracy existed only because I had invented it. Perhaps I should forget about it now. Tomorrow, I would seek employment and put aside my questing instincts for a while. Following this path of intrigues and mysteries was only making me ill and despondent; I was getting too old for such adventure. If I got the chance, I would track down other soulscapers in the city, for there were bound to be a few around, and ask them to purify my mind of dross. I would relax and let the balmy air of Sacramante seep into my bones; heal myself. Still, I did not forget the libraries Keea had told me about. It would be senseless to have come this far and not at least take a look at them. However, I instructed myself firmly that, whatever I might discover in the libraries, I would do nothing but return to Taparak and report back to the scryers. If there were problems to be solved, it was up to the Guild to do something about it, not me.

  It is astounding how, when in the womblike embrace of warm water, we can fool ourselves that we can still be children.

  I opted to eat in my room that night, wrapped in a robe the inn provided for my use. I felt optimistic and lazy; the image of such demons as bloodsuckers or legendary beings remained properly in the Strangeling. They had no place here.

  I napped for a while and awoke with the room full of moonlight, a small lamp by my couch barely alight. Hungry again, I decided to venture downstairs and perhaps take a drink in the taproom. All of my clothes bore the stains of travel and I had had no opportunity to wash them, so I dressed myself as best I could in a simple dark green shift I kept for those rare occasions when it is preferable to appear at least nominally groomed. It was badly creased and had a mould-stain on the right shoulder, which had undoubtedly grown while I’d been kept unavoidably wet in Khalt. Rubbing the stain with a damp cloth made no difference, but perhaps it would go unnoticed anyway if the lighting were dim. My braids looked a little wild, so I damped the frizzy bits down and tied a scarf over my head. The mirror told me I looked as if I’d been recently disinterred, but it would have to do. Tomorrow, I could go and spend more of my gift money on some new clothes.

  As I went into the corridor, the door to a room further down clicked open. A figure stepped out into the dimly lit passage, looked up and down swiftly, but apparently did not see me. They hurried for the stairs in a whirl of dark cloak. I felt as if my heart had stopped. The instant I had seen the face, I had known it. I was sure it was the same man/woman who had accosted me at the gates of Ykhey. Was that possible? No, it was your imagination, I tried to tell myself, not believing it for a moment. The movements had been furtive - whose room had they been in? The answer was obvious to me: Keea’s. As to whether Keea had welcomed this person as a friend, or had been attacked by them as an enemy, I would have to find out.

  I advanced silently to the door, which still stood ajar, wondering whether I should enter or not. With my fingertips, I pushed the door wide. Inside, light from a shaded lantern threw multiple colours over the wide bed. It was empty, and there was no sign of any personal belongings lying around. Was this Keea’s room? Perhaps I’d been mistaken and the mysterious figure had been nothing but another guest on his way out for a night’s entertainment. If I made further investigation of the room, I might well be trespassing. I pulled the door shut and thoughtfully went downstairs.

  The following day, I rose early and left instructions with the maid for my clothes to be cleaned. She’d come to my room to see if I needed anything. Later, I would go out and treat myself to some new apparel.

  Keea was in the dining room, looking fresh and spry; I had not seen him since we had booked in. ‘Sleep seems to have restored you,’ I said.

  He smiled. ‘You too,’ he replied.

  I returned his smile uneasily.

  ‘What are your plans?’ he asked.

  Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a servitor who listed the food available for breakfast.

  After he’d gone, I said, ‘First, I intend to explore the city and spend some of my money, and then I will visit a family my mother once worked for. Hopefully, they will be able to offer me work too, or at least recommend a position elsewhere.’

  ‘And of course, you will want to see the libraries.’

  ‘Yes. I would like to take some notes.’

  Keea laughed. ‘Notes? Is that all?’

  I glanced at him sharply. ‘Yes, that is all. I will return to Taparak with any information we might find.’

  Keea pulled a rueful face. ‘You don’t mean to say you’re going to abandon your quest for knowledge? I thought you wanted to unravel the enigmas of the world single-handed!’

  I smiled at him tartly. ‘Let’s just say I don’t believe I will find all the answers in Sacramante, and the puzzle itself makes me dizzy. Also, lone investigation beyond this point might be hazardous. I’ll hand the mystery over to people more qualified to ponder it. If they wish for me to continue sniffing around, then I shall do so, but not alone.’

  ‘You are easily discouraged.’

  ‘Not at all. I am not so proud as to think I’m capable of solving the world’s problems on my own, whatever your opinion. I was interested, but the investigation was detrimental to my well-being. I recognise a warning when I see it, even if its origin was my own mindscape.’

  ‘And you will return to Taparak by sea, so as to avoid the land of the walking dead, hmm?’

  ‘It will be quicker by sea.’ I said.

  ‘Let’s hope it is still safe!’

  I was irritated. ‘Don’t put ideas in my head, Keea. That’s what can make things real! I must admit I’m curious as to why you’re so concerned about what I do next. Perhaps now is the time for you to open up to me, as you promised.’

  He lowered his eyes and I was sure I could detect a faint flush along his cheekbones. ‘I would like to show you the libraries first.’

  ‘Why?’

  He looked up at me with earnest eyes. ‘Rayo, it is most important you do not abandon your inquiries now! You are needed.’

  ‘In what way and by whom?’ The vehemence in his voice had surprised me, but I did not show it.

  He shrugged. ‘Let us just say, there are people who know there is a problem, and that I work for them. They also know someone has to do something about the situation. I respect your abilities. I believe you can do something about it.’

  So, he had decided to use flattery. Did he think I was so easily manipulated? ‘Look, Keea, I’m a soulscaper. I heal the sick. For either of us to believe my talents extend further than that is dangerous.’

  He did not give up. ‘Such modesty. It does not lie naturally on you, Rayojini. I suppose it means you are afraid.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it does,’ I answered, and I realised that the reply had not just been a lie to stop Keea needling me. There was truth in it too. Miserably, I began to eat. It felt as if some malign influence was kicking the ground from beneath my feet, just when I had begun to feel better. What had happened to my equilibrium, my strength and confidence? When we’d first entered the Strangeling, I’d felt as if I could have taken on the entire Host of Helat single-handed. Had it only been the hallucinations in Ykhey that had made me change my mind?

  ‘You wanted to know about how I was involved in this, didn’t you?’ Keea said, breaking into my thoughtful silence.

/>   Well, I had to applaud his efforts for trying to rekindle my interest. ‘You thrive on being mysterious,’ I said. ‘Perhaps that is all I need to know.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t believe you’re saying this!’ Keea hissed, trying to keep his voice low, because of the other guests present in the room. ‘You saw what happened to me in Ykhey. Remember what you did!’

  ‘I remember!’ I said, pointing a finger in his face. ‘And I will be pleasantly surprised if your libraries can explain that. It is because I remember Ykhey that I want to pass any more information I find on to my guild leaders in Taparak.’

  ‘The adventure is just beginning,’ Keea pleaded. ‘You can’t give up now.’

  ‘It’s not a case of giving up,’ I said, ‘but of being sensible.’

  ‘At least see the libraries,’ Keea insisted. ‘Then decide.’

  ‘I’ve already said I’d visit them with you, haven’t I? Finish your breakfast, Keea. Don’t look so glum.’

  ‘I’m not hungry anymore,’ he said.

  Keea did not offer to accompany me into the city, for which I was strangely grateful. I expected he intended to slink off and consult his mysterious employers. I doubted whether I’d heard the last from him about our erstwhile quest, considering his reaction to my remarks at breakfast. My reluctance to continue our investigative partnership seemed to have compelled him to be more honest with me - he had virtually offered to tell me anything I needed to know. However, since Ykhey, I harboured a small and subtle revulsion of him, which I couldn’t wholly explain. Now, I found I didn’t really want to know his secrets. After breakfast, I had asked him where his room was and, when he told me, I realised it was actually on a different floor from my own. So much for my suppositions about mysterious strangers the previous night.

  I spent the morning being happily frivolous with my ample funds, buying a couple of pretty dresses for the fun of it and a new stock of functional trousers and shirts. At mid-day, I decided to take lunch in an inn and ducked inside the low doorway of the first one I came across. A few people were sitting inside, eating meals to the accompaniment of a fiddle-player. I approached the bar to enquire about their tariff, but before I could speak, the barman said, ‘Ah, Mistress Rayojini?’

  I nodded dumbly in surprise.

  ‘Yes, we have your table ready. I believe your guest is already here.’ He smiled roguishly at me, as at a person who has made arrangements and then arrived late for them.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘but I think there must be a mistake. I have not reserved a table here.’

  ‘But you are the soulscaper from Taparak annexed to the Tricante family?’

  ‘I am a soulscaper from Taparak, yes,’ I said, ‘but my connection with the Tricantes is tenuous. I have not seen them for many years. Are you sure it’s me you want?’

  ‘The reservation is definitely for you,’ the barman insisted.

  ‘In that case, you had better direct me to the table,’ I said.

  Was it possible the family had somehow found out I was in the city and had planned to meet me here? But how could they have known which inn I’d choose for lunch? I hadn’t even known myself until a few minutes ago.

  I followed the barman into a courtyard at the back of the inn, where tables were set out in the shade of an enormous tree. There was no one out there. My guide paused and frowned. ‘Strange. Perhaps your guest got tired of waiting.’

  ‘Who were they?’

  He shrugged. ‘A woman...’

  ‘A woman, yes... What did she look like?’

  He bridled at my aggressive tone. ‘Well, she wore a cloak. She was tall...’ His face folded into a peculiarly disagreeable expression. ‘Could she have been an artisan?’

  ‘An artisan? How should I know? You saw her, not me! I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone.’ My blood had gone strangely slow in my veins. An artisan? Gimel? ‘How long had she been waiting for me?’

  ‘Half an hour, maybe.’

  I marched over to the table. There was no sign of anyone having sat there; the benches were neatly placed, and there were no cups or plates in evidence. I noticed there was a gateway leading to the street. ‘Well, whoever she was, she must have left by that rear entrance, then.’

  The barman shrugged. ‘Possibly. It is very odd, though. She was most emphatic I conduct you to her immediately you arrived.’

  My heart was beating fast. I examined the table more closely. ‘Here, what’s this?’ I asked, holding up a coin. Had another gift been left for me? It was not Bochanegran, being rough and of dull metal, the marks on it rubbed away with age. It looked vaguely Khaltish. ‘What is this worth?’

  I held it out to the barman for him to take it, but he backed away, raising his hands. ‘It is worth nothing,’ he said.

  ‘Where is it from? Is it outmoded, or devalued? A dead currency?’

  He smiled bleakly. ‘You hit near the truth there, Mistress. It is not coin as we know it, but a Khaltish ka. It is placed in the mouths of their dead to pay for their crossing into the Next Land.’

  I dropped it abruptly onto the table, mainly because it looked horribly used. ‘Bring me beer,’ I said. ‘Inside.’ I would not sit where she had been.

  I could not relax enough to enjoy any refreshment, although the fact that the barman had plainly seen my ‘guest’ did reassure me somewhat. It meant she had to be a creature of flesh and blood, at least. But who? An insane idea begged for recognition in my head, one that I hardly dared to consider. Could it be that, despite what I knew to be the truth, Gimel Metatronim really was connected with me in some way? No, it was ridiculous. Sacramante was full of artisans. That was just wishful thinking. Whoever had accosted me in the Strangeling had used the Metatronims’ images because they knew I visualised them as my guardian-pursuers. Doubtlessly, the celebrated Gimel would be shocked, even outraged, to learn her likeness had been employed in this manner. Still, in her position, it was something I would want to be aware of. Was that sufficient reason to try and locate her? No, I must not even think that. If something had followed me out of the Strangeling, I would not be helping the matter by involving others. Also, I still harboured the suspicion that the Metatronims would be coldly indifferent to what I had wanted to tell them. I would simply have to remain observant and careful.

  After finishing my drink, while the barman covertly watched me as he polished glasses behind the counter, I made my way back to The Temple Gate, intending to change and refresh myself. Then, I would present myself at the Tricante residence as soon as possible. I would feel safer if I made contacts in the city, and the Tricantes were a powerful family. If I was in trouble, they might be able to help me. It was going to be embarrassing, I felt, if I had to tell them some of what had happened to me. I was unused to seeking assistance from outside parties, having always been self-sufficient, but I had never been harassed in this peculiar way before. My cosy conviction that everything that had happened had only been the product of my imagination was effectively shattered now. If I really had unwittingly discovered the existence of a predatory race that had been in hiding until recently, it was reasonable to suppose they would want to silence someone they considered to be a threat. This was not a comfortable position to be in. If only I could be sure of the truth.

  Back at The Temple Gate, I was intercepted on my way upstairs by the innkeeper’s daughter, Terissa. ‘Mistress, your visitor is here!’ she said, in great haste. I was suffused with a dark bloom of the most intense anger.

  ‘Where?’ I snapped.

  She gestured wordlessly towards the salon, and I barged past her without asking further questions. I did not expect to find anyone waiting for me there, and I was correct in my suppositions. The door to the garden was swinging shut however. I ran through the tables, knocking chairs aside and flung myself through the gateway, but the garden was occupied only by an elderly couple who were also staying at the inn. ‘Did anyone pass this way a few moments ago?’ I asked sharply. They both shook their heads vigorously, clearly surpr
ised by my tone. ‘But were you looking?’ I insisted.

  ‘No one has come into the garden since we arrived,’ the woman said. ‘And we have sat here since lunch, and that must have been over an hour ago. Are you alright, dear?’

  I raised a hand and shook my head. ‘I’m sorry. There was someone waiting for me. She must have left.’

  Back indoors, I questioned the girl.

  ‘A woman,’ she said. ‘Dressed up tight for such a soft day. She must be an artisan.’

  ‘Hm.’ I looked at the girl speculatively. ‘Are you familiar with the actress, Gimel Metatronim?’

  ‘I know of the Metatronims,’ she said. ‘But could hardly say I’m familiar with any of them.’

  ‘Was the woman waiting for me Gimel Metatronim?’

  ‘She did not leave a name.’

  ‘But did she look like Gimel?’

  Terissa shrugged helplessly. ‘I’m sorry; I don’t know. The artisans are all very similar in appearance, aren’t they? I don’t know.’

  ‘Did she leave anything for me?’

  ‘No.’ I could tell she was curious as to why I was so agitated. ‘Was it important?’

  I did not answer her question. ‘If the lady comes here again, at whatever time, tell her I will be back shortly and, if I’m in the building, fetch me immediately, without telling her you are doing so. Understand?’