The Inner Circle: The Knowing (22 page)

She headed for the tent, only to pause
at the entrance to the sound of sobbing coming from within. Seteal
found the sound strangely irritating. What did that pathetic little
sap have to cry about now? How had her pretty little life
mistreated her this time? Choosing to ignore the woman, Seteal felt
about for her night dress, got changed and slid beneath the covers.
Sleep wouldn’t come easily--it seldom did--but she closed her eyes
and hoped for the best.

‘
But you’ve been a
naughty girl,’ Master Fasil taunted her, coiling his claws around
Seteal’s leg. Her eyes shot open and she placed a hand protectively
between her thighs.

‘
He
is
from
Sitnic, you know.’ El-i-miir’s voice shuddered with
emotion.

‘
What?’

‘
The silt. He told us
the truth.’

‘
I don’t understand.’
Seteal frowned. ‘Far-a-mael is a gil, and he doesn’t believe it’s
from Sitnic.’

‘
Far-a-mael cannot
sense lies the way I do,’ El-i-miir said.

‘
I still don’t
understand.’ Seteal shook her head. ‘Even if you’re right, who
cares? It’s a filthy, no-good demon.’

‘
How can you say
that?’ El-i-miir’s voice gave away unwarranted emotion. ‘What if he
was raised like you and me or anyone else. How can we judge him for
something that’s not his fault?’

‘
That’s a bit rich
coming from the woman who accused my parents of having an
illegitimate marriage,’ Seteal scoffed. ‘You live your life
believing half-castes like me are unworthy of Elglair attention.
Torrid, your people scarcely even leave the Frozen Lands because of
your conviction to being so much better than everyone
else.’

‘
Maybe I’ve changed,’
El-i-miir replied weakly. ‘I care about you now. I understand that
you can’t just judge people on where they’re from or what they look
like. I mean, even if every other silt is born of purest evil . . .
what if this one is not? Wouldn’t that make it wrong to treat him
so cruelly?’

‘
I would hold my
tongue if I were you,’ Seteal said softly after a long silence.
‘You shouldn’t be speaking like that. If Far-a-mael heard about it
. . .’ She let the threat hang in the air.

‘
Fine,’ El-i-miir
said stuffily, ‘but you know what, Seteal, at least I’ve come to be
more open-minded. You, on the other hand, have become less. You’re
starting to sound like Far-a-mael.’

‘
It would be an
honour to be like Far-a-mael,’ Seteal snarled. ‘At least he has
conviction.’

‘
All right, Seteal,’
El-i-miir muttered weakly. ‘I guess we’ve got nothing further to
say.’

‘
You know a whisp
killed my mother, don’t you?’

‘
I didn’t know that.’
El-i-miir’s tone filled with understanding. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘
It’s fine.’ Seteal
laid back aggressively.

‘
This isn’t really
about the silt though, is it?’ El-i-miir said after a moment’s
hesitation. ‘All of your aggression.’

‘
What are you talking
about?’ Seteal moaned in frustration, wishing that the woman would
just leave her alone.

‘
It’s okay.’
El-i-miir reached out for Seteal’s hand, but she snatched it away.
‘It’s natural to feel this way. It means you’re dealing with what
happened. First you were shocked, depression followed closely, and
now you’re angry. This behaviour is all about Master
Fasil.’

‘
Don’t say that
name!’ Seteal said, sitting up and looming threateningly not a
handswidth from El-i-miir’s face. ‘Don’t you dare try to analyse
me! You don’t know what I’ve been through. You haven’t felt what I
have. Until a man has reached inside you and stolen what was taken
from me, don’t presume to understand what it’s like. I was raped,
El-i-miir. There’s nothing “natural” about it, and I will never be
able to “deal” with it. So stop trying to fix me, stop trying to
help me, and most importantly stop trying to be my
friend.’

El-i-miir said nothing further, perhaps
having finally realised that opening her mouth only ever made
things worse. Seteal closed her eyes, but knew she’d have no hope
in falling asleep. She decided to practice some of Far-a-mael’s
techniques. She’d discovered in her lessons that when she was
frustrated or angry she tended to be better able to open up to the
Ways.

Something had happened to Seteal, both
in Narvon Wood and in Sitnic when Seeol had been on his murderous
rampage. The world around her had distorted somehow and she
couldn’t help but wonder what might happen if she encouraged the
sensation rather than hiding from it.

Seteal cleared her mind of disruptive
thoughts. She focused on mundane realities, reached out, and sensed
the Ways as they coiled throughout existence, weaving and guiding
the paths of all things. Seteal’s mind drained into a void of joy
and joylessness. The Ways stretched out like a spider’s web. It
reached her soul, picked her up, and pulled her away. Seteal
gasped, but her body remained motionless. Screaming filled her mind
as all control was lost. Where before it’d required so much effort
to reach out, now the Ways took over, drawing her away.

And it was over. She was safe.
Her eyes were open and above her the walls of the tent stretched
away into the darkness. But it wasn’t dark, though it should’ve
been. It couldn’t possibly be morning and yet Seteal was able to
see as clearly as day. But was it truly sight? She searched about
for the light source, but there was none. And then she discovered
the truth. Seteal wasn’t seeing, she was
knowing
. A young woman
rested on her pillow with brown hair and a bruised face. The woman
appeared to be sleeping, but Seteal knew that wasn’t the case,
because the woman was her.

Panic flooded her being and Seteal
fled. She didn’t understand the mechanism of her motion, as she
lacked legs, a body, or any physical form whatsoever. She was
nothingness. She both existed and didn’t. She was a part of the
Ways and separate from them.

The campsite spilled away into
the distant night as Seteal was drawn to another part of the Ways.
The road that’d once seemed so very long disappeared as she churned
through existence, through forests, mountain ranges and unknown
places. Time had ceased to flow. Birds remained frozen in the sky,
their wings outstretched, their hearts no longer
beating.

A small town became Seteal’s
reality and she realised that she’d been reaching for it all along.
She’d been calling for someone.
Father
.

Seteal formed the memory as she plunged
into the heart of Elmsville. And everything stopped.

Seteal existed in the town centre. She
could see the roof of her house over the top of the one facing the
square. She moved through the dark streets, silent and detached.
The building loomed up before her. It was a daunting, foreboding
place, no longer the warm and hospitable home it’d once been.
Seteal fell through the closed door.

‘
Bring her back to
me,’ a voice whispered sorrowfully. The house was dark. Seteal was
aware of the fact, despite its not being an impediment to her. Gifn
Eltari was on his knees before the fireplace, his copy of the Holy
Tome clenched in both hands. ‘I’ve pleaded with you, Maker, but
still you do not bring her home. Have I not been your loyal
servant?’

Silence prevailed and yet somehow,
somewhere, Seteal felt tears on her cheeks.

Father
, Seteal tried to speak,
but without a mouth she could not make a sound. She reached out to
him but only succeeded in drifting through his body and coming out
the other side.

‘
Forgive my
blasphemous mouth, but, Lord, I can wait on you no longer,’ Gifn
sobbed. ‘I’ve trusted in you, but found no peace.’

Gifn faded from existence along with
the fire he’d knelt before. The room was silent, but for his
whispered voice as it vanished into the past. The home became
darker than before. Seteal moved toward her father’s chair, where
layers of dust gathered at an incredible pace. A spider built an
entire web in what felt like seconds. She had witnessed the past
and was now sliding back toward the present. No one lived there
anymore. Gifn was gone. With all her might, Seteal tried to
rekindle the image of her father, but he was gone and she couldn’t
bring him back.

Her spirit was slapped sideways. The
world spiralled and Seteal felt a familiar sensation--a bodily
sensation. Someone was shaking her. She was torn through the world,
severed from the Ways, and her eyes burst open to discover the
tent’s gloomy interior.

‘
Wake up,’ El-i-miir
whispered urgently. ‘Seeol’s in a tree outside. I think he’s back
to following us.’

‘
Of course he
is.
’ Seteal rolled over, putting her back
to the woman. ‘I told him to.’

‘
You did what?’
El-i-miir said with a stunned tone. ‘So you accuse me of pitying
the silt and yet you’ve actively encouraged the companionship of a
creature we’ve seen murder in cold blood. What the torrid is wrong
with you?’

‘
I’m hardly
encouraging his companionship, I just happen to think the Elglair
might be able to do something to help him,’ Seteal said
thoughtfully. ‘Surely not all of your people are as useless as you
and Far-a-mael.’

‘
Excuse me?’
El-i-miir said defensively. ‘I’ll have you know that we’re two of
the most powerful Elglair in the last four hundred
years.’

‘
In some ways, yes,’
Seteal said as she rolled back over, ‘but Far-a-mael made it clear
to me that different gils are good at different things. What makes
you so sure Seeol can’t be helped?’

‘
Because it’s
impossible,’ El-i-miir fumed. ‘Seeol is
seeol!
There’s a meaning
behind his name, you know. You speak with such confidence on
matters of which you are ignorant.’

‘
You know what? This
is just so typical of you, El-i-miir.’ Seteal glared at the woman.
‘As long as Seeol isn’t bothering you, he’s not your problem right?
But he is a problem. If he’s not following us, he’ll follow someone
less equipped to deal with him. I don’t know about you, but I don’t
want those lives on my conscience. Then again, I suppose that’s not
a problem for you, considering that whisp you created.’

‘
What is wrong with
you?’ El-i-miir burst out, her voice flooding with emotion. ‘You’re
so cruel! I don’t even know why I try anymore.’

‘
I’m cruel?’ Seteal
said defensively. ‘You’ve probably killed someone. You’re no
different to the silt that killed my mother. What the torrid do you
expect from me?’

‘
I thought it was the
right thing to do,’ El-i-miir sobbed.

‘
Well, it wasn’t,’
Seteal said as she rolled back to face the wall yet again. Silence
prevailed thereafter. Neither woman spoke and for many hours
neither woman slept.

CHAPTER
Fifteen

The Riverboat

Far-a-mael kept the silt unconscious
most of the time. With Seteal unable to sit atop a horse for
lengthy periods, the silt had been tied to Darra so that Far-a-mael
could keep an eye on him. Whenever he woke up, he turned to
El-i-miir with pleading eyes. All her life she had been able to
distinguish truth from lie, and although Far-a-mael couldn’t
acknowledge it publically, he trusted she was not incorrect in
regards to young Ilgrin. The problem with El-i-miir was that she
was too naïve. She seemed willing to give the silt a chance, just
as Far-a-mael himself had done in his youth--much to his
discredit.

Whether Ilgrin had been raised in
Abnatol or Old World was irrelevant. The day would come when he
would re-join his people and become a partner in the destruction of
New World.

After days of isolation, Far-a-mael
smiled at the first signs of civilisation. ‘We’re close,’ he
announced to the others. ‘Sat Elmore lies just ahead. Cover the
silt with his cloak.’

El-i-miir slid off her horse to do as
Far-a-mael had ordered. She paused for a moment to whisper in
Ilgrin’s ear. Far-a-mael frowned at her. She’d displeased him
greatly throughout their travels and he was beginning to
second-guess her readiness in becoming a gil.

When they approached the city, Seteal
became visibly excited and forged ahead of the group. Far-a-mael
could only feel relieved that the girl was expressing anything
other than misery and hatred. Certainly he’d implanted a healthy
dislike for silts within her aura, but lately she’d shown contempt
for just about everything.

Days earlier, Seteal had told
Far-a-mael of a strange experience in which she’d proclaimed to
have departed her body. He’d told her that she’d dreamt it, but in
all honesty, he wasn’t so sure. There were books more ancient than
the Holy Tome that spoke of the Elglair having once had such
abilities when the gift was young and the world was new. But it
confounded Far-a-mael. Seteal was only half Elglair. How could she
possibly possess such powers? Then again, the silver glass had led
him to her for a reason.