Burying the Shadow (64 page)

‘And now they
are trying to prevent me entering the eloim soulscape? So Gimel
has
been following me. As a guardian-pursuer, she was very
real. One thing I don’t understand though. She attacked me on the
road in Khalt, yet later when it
seemed
I was speaking to
her in Ykhey, she denied having done that. Her response was genuine
enough. It doesn’t seem to make sense.’

Keea pulled a sour
face. ‘She is insane, Rayo, as are all eloim. You saw what happened
to me in Ykhey. I have had to endure such treatment for years!’

‘I still don’t
understand why you didn’t tell me all this in Khalt. You should
have spoken about it even before we left the Halmanes. It would
have saved a lot of time and bother.’

Keea lowered
his eyes. ‘I was obeying instructions. I’m sorry. I had to deceive
you. My objective was to get you to Sacramante, and what better way
to do that than to intrigue and mystify you? I had no idea that the
Metatronims would change their mind about using your services.’

I shook my
head, which was aching with the weight of all I had learned. Gimel:
why did you have to turn out to be this terrible thing? The
knowledge hurt me deeply. I did not want to believe it. This
couldn’t be the truth, could it? All that Keea had said seemed to
give me those answers I’d yearned for, and yet my instincts still
advised caution. Was this because none of us ever want to credit
the reality of painful truth? ‘Gimel Metatronim has haunted my
life, since I was a child,’ I said. ‘And now I find she is a
demoness, a succubus. And her brother...’ My neck and face went
hot. ‘Incubus! Oh, Benevolent Spirits, what did he do to me?’

Keea leaned
close and put his arm around my shoulder. ‘I know it must be hard
for you to take in, Rayo. Gimel and Beth are ageless, as are all
eloim. They are immortal and they are predatory.’

‘And the
riders - the Knights? You were afraid of them. What were they?’

‘Eloim
warriors. I feared the Metatronims had discovered I was not wholly
loyal and that they had sent those monsters out looking for
me.’

He seemed to have an
answer for everything. I glanced at his hand where it hung over my
shoulder. ‘How did you obtain the Metatronim seal?’

He curled his
fingers and did not speak for a moment. ‘I stole it,’ he said
eventually. ‘I stole it.’

Keea was
obviously an intrepid and enterprising adventurer, although I would
still have felt happier knowing more about his background. He did
appear to be concerned for my safety.

‘Keea, this is
their
library! We must get out of here!’ I stood up quickly,
knocking over my chair. ‘Helat’s tits and cock, we’re locked
in!’

‘Sit down,
Rayo, you are quite safe,’ Keea said. ‘The eloim don’t know we’re
here. We can wait for the old goat to let us out.’

I walked to
the door and pressed my face against it. ‘I don’t want to be a part
of this. It’s madness! Why did I have to get the wanderlust? I
should have stayed in Taparak.’

‘It wouldn’t
have mattered,’ Keea said. ‘I would have found you there. I would
have found you anywhere, Rayojini.’

I turned away
from the door. He was sitting with one arm along the back of his
chair, the other lying protectively over the ancient book. ‘Who are
you Keea?’ I said. ‘Who are you working for? What’s happening?’

‘I am working
for the good of humanity,’ he said. ‘You must believe that.’

Just by saying
those words, he had me doubting. Avirzah’e had sounded so
convincing when he’d spoken of Gimel’s regard for me. I found it
difficult to envisage the artisans as callous predators. Avirzah’e
had not seemed like a killer to me. Who was I to believe? Surely I
should at least try to speak with Gimel to establish the eloim
version of this story. If the history and the legends were true,
they had given humanity immeasurable gifts. I found it hard to
believe the Sacramantan nobles would perpetuate the situation
simply for some kind of carnal gratification. It didn’t make sense.
Izobella herself was a patron of the artisans. How had they hidden
themselves for so long? It was incredible. Beyond belief. And to
me, who worked with the incredible and the unbelievable on a daily
basis, horribly possible. Gods walked down the road from
Bochanegra. What would happen if the eloim were destroyed? Were
they perhaps a necessary evil? I couldn’t decide for myself, not
there, in that little room, with Keea’s energy blasting me into
confusion. Who
was
he? I would still have to tread
carefully.

I went to pick
up my chair and sat down. Keea had begun to look through the book
again. I noticed he had opened it at the end and was flicking
backwards. ‘What are you looking for?’ I asked him.

‘Another
hiding place,’ he said. ‘I want to know what they did with
Sammael.’

‘Immortal
Helat, hmm?’

He did not
answer, but kept turning the pages. Then, he paused and marked the
text with a finger. ‘Melancholia!’ he said. ‘He incarcerated
himself.’

‘So Helat is
out of the game?’

‘Never that,’
Keea replied. He closed the book, and rubbed his eyes.

‘So what do I
do now?’ I asked him. ‘Do I have to meet someone - your employers
perhaps?’

Keea laced his
fingers beneath his chin, and the Metatronim ring cast a light over
his throat. He did not look at me. ‘Not yet. It is nearly time,
Rayo, very nearly time. Wait at
The Temple Gate
. I will
contact you later today, when I am ready.’

‘When you are
ready for what?’

‘To help you,’
he said. ‘Speak to no one about this. Promise me.’

‘Very well. I
promise.’ But I had no intention of honouring it.

Rayojini

‘
I see thy fall
determined, and thy hapless crew involved in this perfidious fraud,
contagion spread both of thy crime and punishment…

Paradise Lost,
Book V

As soon as the old man
let us out of the locked room, my instinct was to flee the building
like a caged beast accidentally given freedom. Keea did not intend
to come back to
The Temple Gate
with me and was vague about
what he was going do before he contacted me again. We walked down
the hill together and embraced awkwardly when our paths diverged. I
felt we had shared some faintly shameful intimacy. He made me
repeat my promise not to speak to anyone until he came to me.

The bells were
striking mid-day as I hurried up Aurora Paths. Would Avirzah’e
return? What if Keea came back first? What was I going to do?
First, drink a couple of large brandies.

No messages
had been left with Terissa, so I went into the bar and purchased a
liquid lunch of strong alcohol. The room was full of the dreamy
sound of people enjoying themselves in a relaxed manner. My nerves
were jangling like bags of metal balls being juggled by an
incompetent child. Restlessly, I kept changing my location; sitting
by turn out in the garden, back in the salon, in the dining room.
My mind kept trying to throw a hook over all I’d learned. One
moment, I was convinced Avirzah’e’s account was the accurate one,
the next that Keea was nearer the truth with his dark suspicions
and hints of terrible oppression. I still wanted to see Gimel
desperately, whether she was hostile to me or not. I could not rid
my guts of an instinctive belief that she, more than anyone else,
would tell me the truth. Why was I so convinced of that? Was I
simply a dupe for a pretty face, believing Avirzah’e Tartaruchi
because he’d batted his eyelashes at me? Surely not. Everything
slotted comfortably into place, if juxtaposed against Keea’s
explanation. And yet... I had not been able to read the ancient
text in the library, which meant that anything could have been
written there, anything. I recalled my first impression of Keea.
Deep down, that hackle-raising suspicion had not left me.

About an hour
after I’d returned to the inn, Terissa came to me in the main
salon. I must have looked demented, because she backed away a step
when I stood up. ‘Yes? What is it?’ I demanded.

‘Someone is
here for you...’ she answered, looking puzzled.

‘Well, why
haven’t you brought them to me? Who is it?’

‘I was only
trying to find you, Rayojini,’ she said, in a hurt tone. ‘I’ve
shown them to the bar. It’s a man. His name is Salyon
Tricante.’

I barged past
her without a word, and heard her affronted retort behind me.

‘Salyon? I’m
so glad you came!’

He was sitting
on a stool against the polished bar, with a tankard of ale in his
hand. I greeted him as if he was a long-lost friend. He, like
Terissa, looked rather taken aback. I ordered myself another brandy
and took him to a secluded table where we could speak in
private.

‘You look
rather harassed,’ he said, taking off his cloak and sitting
down.

I realised I was
physically shaking, as if I was cold. ‘It has been an eventful
day.’

‘Are you
alright?’

I nodded.
‘Yes. Salyon, I hope you have come here prepared to answer
questions, because I have plenty to ask.’

He smiled, an
expression that split his gaunt, forbidding face into something
more personable. ‘To be honest, I don’t know why I’m here. I found
it quite moving to see you again. The last time we met, I had just
surfaced from a nightmare. Your face has always stayed with
me.’

I felt a
little embarrassed by this frank admission, and shrugged
uncomfortably. ‘Your nightmare,’ I said. ‘Did it have anything to
do with the artisans?’

He rested his
chin in his hands and stared at me for a few moments. I found it
very disconcerting. ‘Are you aware of the special relationship
between the patron families and the artisans?’

I nodded. ‘I
think so. The eloim.’

He smiled in
what seemed to be relief. ‘I am glad I’m not the one to tell you
about that. It also proves that my assumptions about you might be
correct. I hope I don’t regret coming here.’

I felt a
twinge of guilt. ‘Are you putting yourself in danger, talking to
me?’

He traced a
bony finger around the edge of his tankard. ‘I don’t know what
impels me to speak to you, other than our tenuous link from the
past. I suppose you’ve realised that no patron talks about the...
artisans.’

I nodded in
encouragement.

‘Times are
changing,’ Salyon said, giving me a penetrating look. ‘I’m not sure
if I’m pleased about that or disturbed.’

He folded his
arms on the table. ‘I might as well tell you that I am useless for
eloim purposes. The sup unhinged my soul. I am estranged from
patron society because of it.’

‘Excuse me,’ I
interrupted him, ‘but there is something I have to clarify in my
own mind. Were you intended to be a sacrifice for the Holy Death?
And did that process go wrong in some way, which necessitated the
attentions of my mother?’

Salyon looked
puzzled. ‘Holy Death? No, no.
Nobody
survives a sacrifice!
What a preposterous idea. What happened to me was quite different.
During our early teens, patron children are introduced to the sup -
that is, we learn the secrets of feeding the artisans. For some of
us, it is impracticable. Don’t know why. An allergy, perhaps, or
something like that. My first sup resulted in the condition you and
your mother saw all those years ago.’

‘I see. So it
was wholly voluntary.’

He frowned.
‘Of course. It was something I’d been waiting for with hungry
anticipation for years! Having experienced it then, it grieves me I
cannot enjoy those sensations again.’

‘But
some
individuals are given in sacrifice, are killed?’

‘Yes. But that
again is voluntary.’ He looked at me directly. ‘You have no idea
what it is like to belong to a patron family but not be able to
indulge in the sup. I have felt wretched in the past, and aloof,
and bereft, and relieved. I wanted you to know that.’

I made a
soothing sound. ‘Thank you for telling me. Now, can you explain to
me how “times are changing” as you put it? What has changed
exactly?’

Salyon
grinned. ‘I feel you already know more than I can tell you.’

I raised my
hands. ‘Please, indulge me. I want to hear it from you.’

‘As you wish.
Well, no one beyond patron society has ever become interested in
the eloim before. Now, it seems that the invisible screen between
them and the world has been shattered. Questions
are
being
asked at last. People have woken up and are wondering exactly what,
or who, the eloim are. They are in danger of being exposed. Another
thing is that the eloim are dying. But I suppose you know that
too.’

‘I have heard
a little.’

‘Immortals
taking their own life!’ he said. ‘Why? It must be a mental
sickness.’ He leaned towards me. ‘Ah, but these are dangerous
times, you know. Not just the eloim are dying. My own family has
suffered a fatality!’

‘Who?
Why?’

‘A cousin of
mine. You might remember her: Perdina.’

I nodded.
‘Vaguely. I remember poetry and hair.’

‘Well, she too
took her own life to protect the eloim. It’s a long story, which I
won’t go into now, but in my eyes, Perdina can be regarded as a
holy sacrifice. Things are getting out of control!’

‘Aren’t they!’
I said, under my breath. It was time for a little direct therapy.
‘Are you
pleased
that the artisans are suffering, Salyon?’ I
asked carefully. It had occurred to me that the real reason Salyon
had come to me was because he needed the services of a soulscaper
himself. What I saw before me was an anguished soul.

He sighed. ‘I
don’t know. I hate them because I cannot get close to them. I want
to touch them, as my relatives do. Does that shock you? And yet, I
cannot imagine the world without them. They are...’ He shook his
head; there were no words for his feelings.