The Canticle of Whispers (16 page)

“Remember,” he said, softly, “we Naruvians spend our entire lives looking for secrets, and even we do not care to spend too long with the Canticle. Some thoughts can tell you too much.”

But Lily was already sitting down at the armonium, and she barely heard him.

*   *   *

The days passed.

I'll hide him, that's what I'll do … should I have fish or fruit?… Everyone's marching to a new beat, a new rhythm … I can't cope with this … Fish, fruit, what's the difference?… What should I pack? Where did I put it?…

At first, she left to eat in the communal canteen, and sleep in her own, private cave. But as time went on, she spent more and more time down in the tombs. Sometimes she looked up from the instrument and saw some bread and dried meat waiting for her on a tray, perched on one of the chests. She never saw who brought it for her. If she was hungry she ate, carving hunks of food with the hunting knife she had fetched from her pack. Occasionally she remembered to sleep. But most of the time, she pressed the pedal, spread her fingers across the armonium, and let the Canticle sing to her.

Is now the moment? Not yet … Is he looking for me? Maybe he is, but I'm safe here; the doctor will look after me … Can I trust her?.… Can I trust him?… I know I've seen this fabric somewhere before … that face! I recognize that face …

The more she searched, the more she wanted to know. Mostly, she remembered that she was supposed to be looking for the one truth that eluded the Oracle. But sometimes, she couldn't resist the sheer beauty of it. She would sit back and let a million disjointed thoughts flow through her mind, her whole body shivering with the music of it all.

Have to keep the trades up, maybe I can eat this week … The last steps are in preparation, and yet this man delays, what is he thinking?… Water under the bridge, my friend, we'll never meet again … Did he just goose me? The nerve … pain never stops, why won't it stop?…

It didn't seem to matter what she played, which was just as well as she could barely pick out a tune. Instead, she learned to focus her mind, to guide the endless stream of whispers. Two images were always at the front of her mind. The Midnight Charter itself, whole and complete, giving up all its secrets, and her friends: Laud, Ben, Theo, Mark.

Won't tell, can't tell the secret, not just yet … WHY WON'T IT STOP … why won't she stop playing that violin? She's no good … Where are they? Where are they? There should have been a message … what happened out there?… What—what do we do now?…

Sometimes she searched through the whispers for other things, for old and forgotten secrets. The oldest thoughts still echoed through the chambers after their owners were long dead. She could tell they were ancient—the voices were faint and scratchy, although she couldn't tell if they were men or women. But the fragments she picked up fascinated her.

These crystals; they have the most extraordinary properties … it's a ridiculous notion! Preposterous … but imagine if it worked … our Society, our lives' work, proved right … remember, lay those stones just right … it'll never work, someone's bound to tell … someone did tell, they've been removed. Disappeared … The others are keeping the faith, the whole city believes in our cause …

Sometimes she searched for her friends, trying to hear those familiar voices in the maelstrom of thought. But whenever she was sure she could hear Mark, or Laud, or Ben, or Theo, she caught only tiny, incomprehensible fragments.

She makes herself useful, I thought after a life in an office she'd never take to this work. Shows what I know!… Will she want to come back? Maybe she found her father after all. What if she doesn't need me—no, need us, anymore … There's still preparations to make, why wouldn't Mr. Verso say anything more specific?… She's still with Crede? Why? I'm doing something now; why doesn't she see?

But mostly, Lily plunged through, listening to everything, as though the whole world were filling her head. Thoughts from the lands above rushed through her, each one fading as she heard it, until she was left with only a feeling—a spark of truth. Dark thoughts, funny thoughts. Thoughts she herself would never have had in a thousand years. Thoughts that shamed her, or made her laugh, or cry, or shudder.

I'll wait for them, they won't suspect a thing … green is so elegant, so intelligent … It'll be a night he'll never forget … look at her, shacked up with the rebel. She wasn't worthy, none of them are worthy … Mathilde asked about him again, twenty-five summers and she's acting like a babe in arms. But still, I feel it. Oh stars, I feel it … Round and round and round and round we go. Wheee!… Won't suspect a thing … not a thing …

And then, all of a sudden, she would hear one of her own thoughts, echoing back at her, and the Canticle would be full of whispers about her. Of people calling her name. Everyone waiting for her opinion, her beliefs—for Lily to swoop in and save the day.

I have to keep on searching … searching for answers. She always looked for answers … Lily would know the answers … Lily IS the answer, that's what he said; I wish I had known her … Lily will soon know … Lily will never know … Lily and Mark, Lily and Mark, so perfect and so wrong …

And that would go on and on, spiraling into a chorus. Until they filled her brain and bones and soul, and the entire world was whispering her name.

Lily is the key … Lily, where are you?… Lily, forgive me … Lily is our inspiration … Lily is at the heart of everything … Lily … Lily … Lily …

“Lily!”

Lily's fingers slipped, and the sudden flash of pain as she pulled her finger from the spinning glass jolted her back to her senses. To her surprise, she realized that the last of the voices was still calling her name.

“Lily, can you hear me?”

She swiveled on the stool. A young man stood by the lantern, mostly in shadow.

“Who…?” Lily asked, still disoriented, finding it hard to match what she was seeing to the echoes that were still bouncing around in her head. A moment before, she had been all knowing, in tune with the thoughts of millions. Coming down to earth was harder every time.

“It's Tertius,” he replied, and stepped a little closer. Lily could see that he was holding a silver tray, probably taken from the grave goods. “I brought you some food.”

Lily's vision cleared, and she was able to focus on the face.

“Is that for me?” Lily asked, stretching, feeling an ache in her back. How long had she been sitting there? It was impossible to keep track of time in this sunless land. She glanced at the lantern—it was nearly out. That was why there were so many shadows.

“Let me do that,” Tertius said, hastily putting down the tray, and pulling out an oilskin, to refill the lantern. Lily waited in the dark, bemused.

“You're very helpful, suddenly,” she said, wondering if it would last.

Tertius laughed, high and nervous.

“Just trying to make a change,” he said, fumbling with the lamp. “The Conductor said that you were down here, and I thought you might want some company.” Lily heard him striking a spark with a tinderbox, and lamplight filled the room. Now that she could see clearly, Lily noticed that Tertius was no longer dressed in bright, clashing colors. He was wearing a brown tuniclike garment, and seemed to have tied his flowing hair into a ponytail, in the Agoran way. As he looked around, he noticed a plate of uneaten food on the floor, and frowned at her.

“You know, you really should eat,” he reproached her. Lily looked at the food. She supposed that she was hungry, in a way. But she didn't want to get up from the armonium. There was still so much more to find. Idly, she slipped her foot back onto the pedal, until the bowls were spinning, and touched the largest. A single note keened into life, along with a tiny rush of whispers. Tertius spun around, excited.

“Is that it?” he said, awestruck. “Is that the Canticle?”

Lily took her finger away, and the note faded.

“I thought so,” she said with a weary smirk. “You're not interested in me; you just want to hear the Canticle.”

Tertius looked crestfallen, his whole body slumping in shame.

“Can't I want both?” he said, in a voice so small and childlike that Lily couldn't stop herself from softening. She swiveled around on the stool.

“You and Septima had me all to yourself for days,” she said, leaning forward, curiously. “As I remember, I was a disappointment.”

Tertius straightened up, and attempted a haughty flick of the head.

“Don't talk to me about Septima. We aren't speaking anymore. She never appreciated you.” He smiled, shyly. “I never understood before. The Conductor told me what you're doing down here, trying to find out something even the Oracle doesn't know. He meant it as a warning, but I think it's amazing. Just
amazing
.” His eyes grew round and wide, and despite her tiredness, Lily smiled.

“You find lumps of rock amazing,” she said, deadpan, getting down from the seat. “I just need answers, that's all. If the Canticle can find the truth for me, I'll use that. Otherwise, I'll try something else.”

Tertius's mouth gaped, as though Lily had just given the most brilliant speech he had ever heard. He came closer, and Lily tried not to laugh.

“But that's just it,” he said, with growing intensity. “You're looking for
answers
. I've searched for facts and secrets my whole life, but I've never come across an answer. Not a real, final answer.”

Lily frowned.

“I'm not trying to find out the meaning of life,” she said, thoughtfully. “Just the answers that matter to me. What's happened to my friends, why everyone seems to think I'm so important…”

“You don't know?” Tertius interrupted.

Lily looked at him. Before, his stare had been strangely endearing. But now, there was something too intense about the way he looked at her. He looked almost hungry.

“No,” Lily replied, surreptitiously looking to see if he was between her and the exit. “I'm just a girl. I don't follow anyone's prophecies. I'm not important.”

“But you are!” Tertius said, a little too loudly for comfort. “You have such drive, such…” his eyes filled with realization, “… focus. You know what you want, and you go out and get it. Little more than a month in Naru, and you're on the verge of finding everything you want!” He advanced toward her, a rapturous smile on his face. “You're perfect.”

Lily shrank back, and felt the armonium behind her, blocking her way.

“Now look, Tertius,” she said, hurriedly, “this is really flattering, but you could be just the same as me, you know. All you have to do is have a goal, something that really matters to you.” She pointed to the cave mouth. “Go on! Go out there, and get what you want.”

“I know what I want,” Tertius said, quietly. “Nothing's ever mattered to me as much as understanding
you
.”

Lily tried to escape, but Tertius was already right in front of her, his eyes huge and strange, as if they would drink her in.

“Tell me how you do it!” he said, more forcefully. “I have to know!”

Suddenly, without thinking, Lily pushed him away.

Tertius screamed. He collapsed backward, as though Lily had stabbed him in the chest. Lily stared at her hand.

“I barely touched you,” she said, amazed. He looked up at her, aghast.

“But you
did
 … you touched me!” He sounded ill, his breathing quick and fast, his already pale face was deadly white. “With your bare hands! That's … that's … urgh…” He crawled away across the floor. “You filthy
thing
!”

Lily looked down at Tertius, crawling away from her. Her first instinct was to bend down, to help. But as she moved closer, he shrieked again, scrabbling away from her across the stone floor, knocking over the tray of food in his desperation.

And then, to her surprise, Lily felt herself getting angry. Maybe it was relief, maybe a reaction against the fear, but she felt her lip curl, and her heart pound faster.

“What? You think I'm going to give you some kind of horrible disease?” Lily asked, scornfully. “I thought I was ‘perfect.'”

Tertius looked as if he was trying to reply, but he was overcome with dry retching. He lay shuddering on the floor. And Lily stood over him, her fury growing. She felt that strange shudder pass over her again, the one she felt every time the Canticle was near, and this time she didn't try to push it away. Instead, she laughed—a hard laugh, fueled by exhaustion.

“You want to know how to focus?” she asked, scornfully. “Maybe you need to stop seeing knowledge as the end of everything! The Oracle knows every secret in the world, and what good does it do her? She's stuck in her chamber, all alone.”

Tertius raised his head, and finally managed to speak, through quivering lips.

“You couldn't understand,” he said, dragging himself to his feet. “She is pure, unfettered by the world. I thought you were like her.” He shook with revulsion. “But you're just an animal, a deviant, a—a … creature of the flesh!”

He spat the last words as though they were a curse, but Lily only laughed again, more harshly than she intended.

“It's just your body!” she shouted. “How can you be so disgusted with something that's part of you? No wonder you can't focus. You hold everything at arm's length.” She stepped forward, and Tertius recoiled. “Real truth isn't just facts,” she continued, passionately. “It's something I've been looking for my whole life. Something I longed for when I sat crying in my corner at the bookbinders because there was nowhere in the world where I fit. I was an orphan—a girl with stupid ideas above her station. A danger to society.”