Student of Kyme (20 page)

As I read
the text, my gaze flicking constantly to the illustration beside
it, I knew that I was about to act. I was about to take back
control. Whether this would be a good or bad thing, I did not yet
know; all that was important was that I would do it.

I didn’t
call upon Rayzie or Ystane to help me; this I must do alone. Once I
had made the decision, I waited to see whether my Nagini spirit
would appear to me again, to offer either encouragement or
dissuasion. He had appeared to me at nexus points before, and I
opened myself up to his manifestation, but he did not come. That
perhaps was a message. This was my time to do with as I willed. The
days passed like a dream, unreal. I met with Ysobi as usual, but it
was as if I looked upon him through cloudy glass. I ached to touch
him yet I hated him. I hated the power he had over me, and the
knowledge he had of that power, because I made it so obvious. I was
at his beck and call. I never missed a meeting, but then neither
did he. What did he get from this? I had no doubt that Jassenah
knew nothing about our daily assignations and would be furious if
he did. Surely, this constant contact, albeit chaste, was just as
much a breach of Jassenah’s trust as any aruna we could have taken?
Not that I could talk about any of this with Ysobi. The times when
I tried to do so were met with cold hostility and withdrawal. So,
there was an unspoken pact between us; if I tried to address
anything about our friendship directly, it would end. Everything
was on his terms. And as the days passed, I drew further away from
my friends, until even the invitations began to dry up. I felt that
Iscane had given up on me. His concern had been met only with
defensive resentment.

Huriel
watched me constantly but knew better than to speak. I felt he had
betrayed me utterly. I could not trust him. Our relationship had
literally cracked down the middle. Huriel did what he could to
repair it, and a part of me watched him from the inside, wishing he
could be successful. But the fact was that no matter how fond of me
this har was, his loyalties did not lie wholly with me. He did not
disbelieve me; he just thought what I thought and believed was
wrong. Because of this, I tried to hide my inner turmoil from him.
I wanted him to think all was well. On a day to day basis, I was
pleasant at home. Huriel knew better now than to comment on my
social life. He knew Ysobi and I met every day, and how often. Only
once did I confront him, when I awoke one morning with a headache
that almost blinded me. It interfered with my judgement. At
breakfast, Huriel made some innocent remark and suddenly words were
coming from my mouth, as if another har controlled my body. ‘Are
you so blind?’ I snapped. ‘Why do you think Ysobi meets with me so
often?’

Huriel
held my gaze, clearly intent on projecting every ounce of serenity
he possessed towards me. ‘Because he enjoys your company and wants
to be friends.’

‘
You once thought we should stay away from one
another.’

Huriel
shrugged. ‘Kyme is not a big town. You are bound to run into each
other here. It’s best things are kept civil. I think…’

‘
Kept civil?’ I stood up, so full of anger I felt dizzy. I
closed my eyes, swallowed hard, took a breath. The silence was
rigid between us. Both of us held our breath.

I opened
my eyes. ‘You are right,’ I said. ‘It’s best things are kept
civil.’

Huriel
smiled uncertainly. ‘Gesaril…?’

‘
I’ll be late,’ I said. ‘See you later.’

As I made
my way to the library, I was thinking: you are doing this to
yourself. Why are you letting it happen? Stay away from Ysobi.
Nothing good can come from this. Stay away…

How many
times had I said that to myself? Uncountable. But perhaps it was in
those moments that I finally made the decision to act.

On a
chill night of the dark of the moon, I went to Withermoon Copse
near town. Of the many woods in the area, this one is not
frequented as much as others; its energies are somewhat jarring.
Most hara think something terrible must once have happened within
its dense hawthorn thickets. I made this visit directly after a
meeting with Ysobi so that I rode with his face before me, his
scent all around me. I took him with me to this lonely spot. He had
spoken that night of how he might soon be leaving Kyme. There was
no mention of what would happen to us thereafter. There was no us.
There would only be another void. If he’d intended to provoke me
into speaking frankly, I hope I disappointed him. I’d mouthed
pleasantries that meant nothing: He must be missing home. It had
been a long time. So many hienamas for so long must drive a har
crazy. We’d laughed about it. He’d looked at me speculatively, that
sidelong sapphire gaze. He’d said, ‘I’ll miss you.’ But not
enough.

I found a
clearing deep within the wood, where a stream ran, hidden by ferns.
You could hear its voice but not see it easily. If you drew the
ferns aside, the pure water looked black. I took some of this water
in a brass bowl and placed it in the centre of the clearing where
it could gather starlight. I laid a ring of salt about it. Then I
knelt before the bowl. I cut myself with the sharpest blade I’d
been able to find in the kitchen, and let my blood fall into the
starlit black water. With my blood fell my intentions. I closed my
eyes.

I called
upon the Mahallatu in my mind. The night was clear, yet I imagined
strange, purple clouds, veined with harsh yellow light, drawing in
from every quarter. Within the clouds, the malediction of merciless
hooves, striking sparks from the air. My heartbeat increased. I
could feel them drawing closer, their savage joy. I gave birth to
them in the darkness, in that serene glade, beneath an imagined
storm.

I knelt
with my head bowed, hands plunged between my knees. Then I felt my
hair begin to lift in a spirit wind that did not exist in reality.
I could feel the Mahallatu circling me, the hooves of their
ferocious beasts so close to my fragile flesh. I could feel the
rank heat of their breath, hear the jangle of their harness. They
created a vortex about me.

‘
Honoured Mahallatu,’ I said aloud. ‘I give you my blood. Hear
me.’

It was
difficult to speak, for the otherworldly wind took the words from
my throat; it consumed them. I was afraid because the power and
presence of the Mahallatu was so palpable I was sure that if I
opened my eyes, I would see them before me. I dared not do that.
Other hara had fed these entities with their will and intention;
they lived. And even in the state I was in, I knew I must be
careful. I would make conditions upon what I would ask.

‘
If I have been wronged,’ I said, ‘then may the might of your
retribution, and the full might of the cosmos, fall upon the soul
of Ysobi har Jesith. Let him be exposed to all for what he is. Make
him face the truth of what has befallen us. Let him face the raw
reflection of himself.’

I could
feel the keen attention of the Mahallatu. This was like food and
drink to them. Although the vortex still spun around me, I could
feel their stillness within it. They listened. Now I must impose
the conditions.

‘
But if it is I who am wrong,’ I said, ‘then let no harm
befall him. If I am truly held in delusion, I ask that the power of
your swords, the weapons of justice, cut this lie from my heart and
mind. I ask that I be cleansed to start anew. You have my blood.
These are my terms. Ride now and accomplish my bidding!’

In my
mind, I saw their leader, Merim, approach me. I could not see the
whole of his face, only his burning eyes. ‘We hear you,’ he said
softly. He held out his hand to me, white as bone. ‘Ride with me,
Gesaril har Kyme.’

I reached
out and took his hand. And then in a mind-numbing rush, Merim
hauled me onto the saddle before him. The Mahallutu wheeled once
more in a circle and then their beasts took off, galloping upon
air.

In
reality, I swooned upon the forest lawn, but in my mind, in the
ethers, I plunged through rushing winds. Merim held me close to him
and as we rode, faster and faster, I felt his power spiral within
my body, up my spine, exploding in my head. Come with me, Ysobi, I
pleaded silently. Ride with me. Let all that is poisoned between us
drain away. There is a future, together or not. But let there be
truth.

The
Mahallatu uttered unearthly cries. We were riding towards the
future, a new reality. Anything was possible.

I think I
expected some sudden calamity to fall upon Ysobi, because in my
innermost heart I knew I had been wronged. Whatever Ysobi said to
Huriel, or to himself for that matter, my instincts and their inner
voice would not be silenced. But the days continued as before. I
was waiting for a blast of true clarity, the ability to break free.
I thought that maybe I would wake one day and be free of the love
that ate me from the inside out. Then Ysobi would realise what he’d
lost. I was waiting for Ysobi to open up to me, or perhaps to
Huriel. Then Huriel would come to me and tell me. But none of these
things happened. Perhaps I was too impatient.

Three
weeks after I’d summoned the Mahallatu, I decided to revisit them
to enquire about their progress. This time, I did not go out to the
woods, but lit a ring of candles on the floor in my bedroom. I
locked the door to prevent any surprise intrusions and then
composed myself within the circle to meditate.

I met
with the Twelve in the back room of the inn at the end of all time.
The inn was hidden, approached by a single narrow track, within a
mighty forest. The trees were in full summer garb, immense and
brooding. The horses of the Twelve were tied up outside the inn.
The building itself was silent, no merriment within. Dim orange
lights gleamed from the diamond-paned windows. I went inside. There
was no one to direct me, so I simply walked through the many small
rooms of the building until I found the farthest chamber. Here
there was a table, and around it sat the Twelve.

I bowed
before Merim and told him why I was there. I could see his face
now, sharp featured and watchful. His eyes still burned red, as if
filled with blood. ‘Our work is hampered,’ he said.

‘
By what?’

His
companions did not speak to me. Their heads were bowed, faces
hidden beneath cowls. Ornamental daggers lay on the table before
each of them. Weapons bared.

Merim
looked me directly in the eye. My own eyes watered from that
smouldering stare. ‘Give me a soul,’ he said.

A face
flashed before my inner eye. Jassenah. His name was a shout in my
mind. I knew this was what Merim wanted; my sanction to take his
life. For a second, I wavered, considered it. Then I shook my head.
‘Don’t trick me,’ I said. ‘I created you. You are an expression of
my thoughts and desires. It is I who make the conditions, not you.
Therefore, I will not give you a soul. Do my bidding, as I directed
you to do.’

Merim
laughed at me. ‘You don’t want Ysobi badly enough,’ he said. ‘Or
you would rid yourself of this impediment.’

‘
Ysobi is the impediment, not Jassenah,’ I replied. ‘I wish no
ill upon him. Let me make one thing clear. I summoned you not to
deliver Ysobi to me, but to make him see things for himself. There
is a difference. I have faith in my own truth.’

‘
You want him to suffer,’ Merim said simply. ‘Or will you be
like him and lie to yourself about that? You have been spurned, yet
he continues to play with your heart. He throws it into the air. He
throws it against a wall. It bounces back to him. And when he’s
tired of playing, he leaves it lying in the cold, and goes to
commune with his chesnari in the ethers. He doesn’t speak of you;
of course he doesn’t. You are his secret, his sustenance. Your
feelings are a fire to him; he is never cold as long as you gaze
upon him.’ Again, Merim laughed, but I could not speak. Ultimately,
Merim was the voice of my heart anyway. ‘You desire vengeance,’
Merim continued, in a conversational tone. He made a languid
gesture with one hand. ‘Would not the greatest vengeance be to
destroy all that Ysobi has? He could lose everything, even the
friends he trusts. If this is what you want, then ask
it.’

I had to
speak the truth. ‘All I will say is this: I want him to suffer as I
have suffered. I want him to feel the pain I feel. It is not right
that he drifts like a gracious swan through life while his games
turn me inside out. It’s not fair!’

Since
when has life been fair? I hadn’t even uttered those words as a
child when innocence had been taken from me so brutally. Perhaps
now this was my shout against the injustice of what hara can do to
one another. Perhaps…

‘
Let no harm come to Jassenah or the harling,’ I said. ‘That
is the only condition.’

Merim
inclined his head. ‘As you wish.’

That
night I dreamed what happened. I saw Merim gather the Gallatu to
him; strange half harish creatures with spiny leathery wings that
were like huge attenuated hands with webbed fingers. They did not
have ordinary feet either, but claws like carrion birds. Their wild
black hair grew all the way down their spines. They were partly
like bats and partly like spiders. These beings fawned around
Merim, who touched them lightly, smiling down upon them. At his
word, they took off in a leathery rustle, diving this way and that
up into a night sky, where the moon hung unnaturally large. The
Gallatu flew to the house where Ysobi lay asleep. They roosted upon
the roof, preening themselves, flexing their wings. They flapped
down into Ysobi’s dreams. I saw his bed engulfed by them. It was as
if they devoured him. Yet in reality, I knew, even as I dreamed
myself, that he simply writhed in the clutch of a nightmare. I
could see his room in both realities: moonlight fell upon him,
clear and cold. His breath steamed upon the air. And shadows
flickered in and out of being over his bed.