Burying the Shadow (55 page)

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 surprised 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?’

She
nodded.

‘Good,’ I
said, and as an afterthought, offered her a coin.

Rayojini

‘
The nodding horror
of whose shady brows threats the forlorn and wandering
passenger.’