Angelica (50 page)

If she had not had to hold on to the miserable bundle of Kaski, she would have thrown her arms around his neck. “Oh, Gaaron,” she said, “I am only so grateful that
you
have been concerned for
me
.”

At that, he smiled again but made no reply. His arms tightened around her but that was no lover's signal; he was preparing for flight. His great wings clawed through the air, seeking a purchase, as he ran forward, light as a deer through the sucking mud of the field. Susannah gasped as his forward motion flung them all into the air—they were too heavy, even his wings were not strong enough, there was no way they would not pitch forward again, back to the dull, heavy earth. And yet they were flying, gaining altitude with every wingbeat, pushing through the soggy air with nothing but brute determination. Back to the Eyrie. Back to safety and home.

Susannah wrapped her arms more closely around Kaski, murmuring endearments into the wet veil. She was glad of her own clothes, soaked and uncomfortable as they were—glad especially of the heavy jacket, made of dark material so dense that nothing would show through it. She knew that the sharp, steady pain on her arm was the result of no injury sustained from that mad dash through the treacherous terrain. She had tripped and fallen once or twice, but she had not landed in such a way as to bruise that arm. No, if she were to strip off the jacket, she would find no wound, just a pulsating, insistent light in the opal depths of her Kiss.

It would look much like the Kiss glittering and exulting on Gaaron's arm, naked to the world for all to see. He did not act as if he noticed either the color or the pain, and she thought it was very likely that he did not. No one had told her that rage could set sparks in the heart of a Kiss, but perhaps it was so; that was the only emotion he had shown this afternoon, and even that he had kept banked down. She did not understand him—she was only beginning to
understand herself—and in any case, she was too exhausted to think about it now. She rested her head against the welcome warmth of his chest, and closed her eyes.

Two days later, Gaaron informed Susannah that he had made arrangements for Kaski.

“Arrangements?” she said blankly. “What do you mean?”

He had been gone for most of these two days, and she had missed him. When he had sent for her, late on that second night, she had been a little fluttery and excited at the thought of seeing him again.
Stupid and girlish!
she thought, but she had changed her shirt so she could wear the vest with red accents, and she had combed her hair out again before hurrying down the hall.

To learn that he wanted to talk about Kaski.

“She can't stay here,” he said. He had offered Susannah a chair and then failed to sit down himself, so that she sat, small and stationary, while he paced the floor. He smelled like winter starlight; he must have just this minute landed on the plateau after a long flight. “She is too disruptive. She takes too much of your time, and Esther's and Chloe's and Zibiah's—she cannot be trusted—and she is not happy. For everyone, it seems better if she were placed elsewhere.”

“But—
where
?” Susannah demanded. “The Jansai won't take her and she is afraid of every man she sees—”

He turned to face her, but his attention seemed elsewhere. “There is a place where only women live,” he said. “At Mount Sinai, with the oracle and her acolytes. It is true that men visit there from time to time, but the compound is big, and the visitors stay mostly in one small part. I think she would feel safe there, among people she could trust. And Mahalah has kindly consented to take her in.”

“Mahalah?” Susannah repeated, because at the moment she could not think who belonged to the name.

“The oracle. It is time you met her, anyway. I would like you to come with me tomorrow when I take Kaski to her. It will ease Kaski's transition to have you present, and it will give you some time to meet one of the most gracious women of all Samaria.”

Susannah shook her head and came to her feet, feeling
outmaneuvered and a little angry. “But Gaaron, I am not convinced that this is the right thing to do! It is true that Kaski is troublesome, but she is a lonely, frightened child—”

“Who needs special care that you cannot provide.”

“But I
want
to provide it! I am very fond of her! You cannot just—you cannot just take her from me like an ill-mannered pet—or treat
me
like a child who does not have the sense to take care of her own playthings.”

He stopped in his pacing to look at her seriously. “Is that what you think? This is not about any failure on your part. You could take in any Jansai or Edori in the three provinces, and have them run wild at the Eyrie, and let them tear the place down to the floorboards every night, and I would not complain. But this girl has put you at risk, and because you allow yourself to love her, she will continue to put you at risk, and I will not have you endangered. I won't. End of discussion. I have found a place for her that I think is safe, that you can get to without much trouble, so that you can keep her in your life if you so choose. But she is going to Mount Sinai tomorrow. I hope you will come with us, but even if you don't, that is where she is going.”

Susannah stared at him, not knowing how to answer. All she could think was that he was still angry—even angrier than she had realized as they huddled against the hillock—and that reason never won any skirmish with rage. She remembered arguments between Tirza and Eleazar, arguments over trivial matters, sometimes, and how Tirza would simply walk away, saying, “No.” Whatever it was that Tirza refused to do would not ever get done. In some situations there were no compromises, and Susannah recognized such a situation now.

“What time do you want to leave?” she asked in a low voice.

“As soon as we've eaten. Tell Kaski or not, it is up to you.”

“And you alone will take us all that way?”

“I have asked Zibiah to come with us. I think that will be more comfortable for Kaski.”

Susannah nodded dumbly and turned for the door. She thought Gaaron might stop her on her way out, call her name,
at least, but he did not. Not until she stepped into the hall and shut the door behind her did she realize that she was shaking.

Mahalah indeed was one of the most gracious women Susannah had ever met. Also the frailest, the smallest, the tiniest wisp of a woman. It seemed a wonder to Susannah that she could ever summon the strength to take her next breath, since her body did not seem constructed to withstand such abuse.

“Ah, the new angelica,” Mahalah greeted her, taking her hand. The oracle's grip was more compelling than Susannah would have expected, and her black eyes were keenly watchful. “We must have time to sit and visit while you're here, just the two of us.”

“Don't let her tell you unkind things about me,” Gaaron said to Susannah. “She does not hold me in high esteem.”

“Nonsense. I value you just as I should. It is just that I know so much more than you do, and have such greater wisdom, that I cannot always accept your pronouncements the way your host does at the Eyrie.”

“Everyone always does exactly what Gaaron says,” Zibiah offered. She was standing a little to one side of the main group, allowing Kaski to rest her veiled head against her flying leathers.

“I'll wager that you do not,” Mahalah said, sending Susannah a shrewd look. The oracle was still holding on to the angelica's hand, and Susannah was surprised at the heat in the thin fingers. “The Edori are rather a wayward lot, and you do not have a look of submission about you.”

Susannah smiled. “I have tried to be docile and accommodating,” she said demurely.

“Do not tell me that you do not have a stubborn streak,” the oracle exclaimed. “I can read it in your face.”

Susannah's smile widened. “I have not had an opportunity to show it,” she said, her voice still prim. “I would have to be very hard to please if I did not find life at the Eyrie satisfactory.”

Mahalah released her hand and turned to Gaaron. “Watch that one,” she advised him. “She is not so trouble-free as she looks.”

Clearly this conversation was not much to Gaaron's taste. “And yet, it is not Susannah whom we have come here today to discuss,” he said pleasantly. “May we introduce Kaski to you? She is, as you see, a Jansai girl who has fallen under our protection.”

Zibiah gently pushed Kaski the few yards over toward Mahalah, who sat patiently unmoving in a high-backed wheeled chair. Kaski moved along with the angel, but she would not look up, even when Zibiah encouraged her to say hello.

“Yes, this one is very damaged,” Mahalah said in a soft voice—and then added something in a language none of them could understand. Susannah saw Gaaron give the oracle a sharp look, and she was surprised herself. The words sounded Jansai, though she had never heard of anyone who was not Jansai being taught the secretive, complex language.

At any rate, the speech had the effect of lifting Kaski's head and spinning her around to face the oracle. She actually responded, issuing a few sharp, suspicious words that sounded like a question. Mahalah nodded and gave her an emphatic answer, making her hands into two fists for emphasis. Now Kaski launched into a torrent of words, she the silent child of no speech, and the three other visitors stared at her in wonder. Mahalah answered her, and then turned her attention back to the angels and the Edori.

“Yes, I think Kaski will do quite well here,” she said serenely. “I am glad you have brought her to me.”

Although Susannah could tell that Gaaron was eager to get back to the Eyrie, it was clear that it would be too rude to leave Mount Sinai minutes after delivering their bundle, so the two angels and the Edori stayed for another few hours. Susannah accepted the offer of a tour through the tunnels, which Mahalah narrated while she led the way in her wheeled chair.

“Here's one of the guest rooms. If you ever come to spend the night, you'll stay someplace like this. It's nice, isn't it? My own rooms look much the same, only a little bigger. . . . Down this hall are the dorm rooms where the girls sleep. I would show them to you, except they are embarrassingly
messy, and I don't want you realizing what a slack housekeeper I am. . . . That's the audience chamber, you saw that when you came in. . . . The kitchens are that way, but even
I
don't go into them, since I can't cook. I bet you can cook, though, can't you?”

“Camp food,” Susannah said. “Nothing fancy.”

“I can't even do that much. Couldn't roast a rabbit to save my life!”

“But you can speak Jansai, which makes up for your other deficiencies,” Susannah said demurely.

Mahalah cackled with laughter. “I can speak Edori, too,” she said, switching to that tongue. “And the old language, the one the settlers used when they first landed. And I've seen texts of other languages that came from that world we used to live on, and I can understand a few of those words, too. I'm good with words. Some people are good with math. Some people are good at cooking rabbits.”

“You speak Edori very well,” Susannah said. “You must have had a native teacher.”

“I did,” Mahalah admitted, but didn't give specifics. She had wheeled into a large, high-ceilinged room. It was cluttered with books and furniture but otherwise gave the appearance of light and openness, though it was an interior room with no windows. Or perhaps that was a window against the far wall, looking onto a blue vista like sky or water. Susannah walked that way, drawn by the mesmerizing brightness of the rectangle of color.

Mahalah rolled up beside her. “That caught your attention, didn't it? It's the interface.”

“The what?”

“The interface. The device through which I communicate with the god.” Mahalah laid her hand against the glowing glass, and her flesh took on a strange appearance, dark and dull and outlined in black. “I use this keyboard here to write to the god, and his words appear to me on the screen.”

Susannah shook her head. “What?” she said again, a small smile on her face.

Mahalah laughed. “I know. Old technology. It doesn't make any sense to us these days. But it is like—oh—writing
letters to the god through the medium of this device. And having him write letters back.”

“I think I would be nervous if I received a message from Yovah,” she said. “Terrified, more likely. I would not want to misinterpret what he had to say.”

“And it is easy to do,” Mahalah agreed, dropping her hand back into her lap. “His words are cryptic at best.”

Susannah came a step closer. “May I touch it?”

“Certainly! Just lay your hand across the screen like so.”

Cautiously, Susannah put her palm against the cool glass, feeling a tingle like a charge of static against her skin. Nothing else. No vibration, no heat, no streak of shock. “It's so curious,” she observed at last. “I have seen—technology—like this before.”

“You have? Have you been to one of the other oracles, then? Or—I know—the music machines at the hold are rather like this, aren't they?”

Susannah shook her head. “In my dreams, sometimes. I dream that I am in a room filled with—what did you call them?—screens and keyboards, just like these. And some that are a little bit like this, but different, too. Rooms and rooms full of them.”