The Myst Reader (80 page)

Anna grinned. “That would be nice. And maybe we could get away for a few days soon. To Gemedet.”

Aitrus nodded. “I shall ask Master Erafir to stand in for me. It is time he took on more responsibility.”

“Then go and see to Gehn. But remember, Aitrus, nothing too heavy for his stomach.”

AITRUS HAD MEANT TO GO STRAIGHT TO HIS
rooms; his feet had lead him partway there, but then curiosity had overcome him and he found himself descending the steps, then walking beneath the gate and into J’Taeri District.

I do not have to get involved
, he told himself. Whatever it was, he did not have to act upon it. He would observe whatever had to be observed, then leave.

The street itself was an ordinary street, the house a staid, respectable dwelling of the kind merchants often bought. The windows were dark, the door locked. Aitrus turned. The house overlooked the harbor and Kerath’s arch, the top of which was almost on a level with where he stood. Across the street, between the facing buildings, was a low wall, from which one could look out over the lake. He went across and stood there, his hands resting lightly on the stone.

There was a faint mist in the cavern tonight. In the narrow streets lamps wavered as wagons moved between the houses. There was a shout from somewhere far below, and then laughter. Otherwise the night was peaceful. Aitrus turned, conscious of a faint gurgling sound. Close by a narrow culvert cut across the street, clear water running in a stream from the very top of the huge, scallop-shaped city. He bent down and dipped his hand. It was cool.

He was about to turn away and go when he heard footsteps coming along the far end of the street. Looking about him, he spied a nearby doorway and stepped into its shadows.

The footsteps came on, the slow click of leather boots on stone, then stopped. Aitrus hesitated. He was about to risk a glimpse, when a second set of footsteps could be heard, this time from his left, brisker than the first. They paused, then came on again, slower now. There was a low murmur of greeting.

Aitrus peeked out. Two men stood in the lamplight before the door of the house. One was cloaked and hooded, the other, a heavier-set man, wore nothing on his balding head. He looked familiar, but where Aitrus had seen him he could not say. He ducked back into shadow, listening.

“What do you want?” one of them asked, the voice, again, familiar.

“I have something to show you,” the second answered. “Something that will interest you.”

It was a deep voice, cultured yet with a strangely common edge to it. Whereas the first …

“You want
me
to go in there with you?” the first man asked, and as he did, Aitrus finally recognized the voice.

Veovis!

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Alone, at night, in a strange house?” Veovis laughed ironically. “Would
you
trust
me?
”

“Implicitly.”

There was a silence, then a huff of resignation.

“All right,” Veovis said finally. “I shall trust you. But be warned. I am armed, A’Gaeris.”

That name came as a shock to Aitrus. All young guildsmen knew it. No other name attracted quite such infamy. But what was he doing here in J’Taeri, a respectable district? And what was Veovis doing meeting him?

Aitrus peeked out again, in time to see the big, heavyset man place a key in the lock and turn it, then put out his hand, inviting Veovis to step inside.

“You first,” Veovis said, standing back a little, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “And put a light on. Then I shall come inside.”

A’Gaeris smiled and shrugged, then stepped inside the house. A moment later a light went on in the hall.

Letting his hand fall from the hilt of his dagger, Veovis glanced to either side, then stepped into the house.

Was that it? Was that what the anonymous writer had meant him to see? And if so, why?

Aitrus was about to leave, to make his way back up to the Guild Hall, when a light went on in the ground-floor room to the left of the front door. Easing back against the wall, Aitrus watched as A’Gaeris entered the room, followed a moment later by Veovis.

Veovis, standing in the doorway, seemed ill at ease. He glanced about him, then, satisfied that it was not a trap, closed the door and walked across to where A’Gaeris was rummaging among the papers on a desk. There were a number of slender books among the papers, and A’Gaeris lifted one and handed it to Veovis.

Veovis hesitated, then opened it. He studied it a moment then looked up, his eyes wide.

A’Gaeris smiled, then gestured toward the chair facing him.

AITRUS WENT STRAIGHT TO HIS ROOMS IN THE
Guild Hall. He had work to do, but he found he could not work. What he had seen troubled him greatly. Anna was right, of course; he ought to have gone straight to Master Jadaris and put the matter in the hands of the Maintainers, but he had not, and this was the result. Oh, he could go there now, but what proof would he have? It was his word against Veovis’s.

But what was going on? Why were such strange and unlikely companions meeting in a merchant’s house?

Aitrus sat still a long while, trying to fathom it, but he could make no sense of it at all.

Anna. Anna would know. Only he could not ask Anna, because he had promised her he would not get involved. He had burned the note, as if it had held no power over him. But it had. And now he had this dilemma.

Veovis. Maybe he ought to go and see Veovis and confront him openly with what he had seen.

Aitrus thought a while, then nodded. It seemed the right thing to do. No skulking about in shadows. That was not his way. He would take a boat to K’veer in the morning and have it out with Veovis, face-to-face. For there had to be an explanation.

Aitrus put away his files, then left the room, locking it behind him.
Tomorrow
, he told himself, making his way down the long, silent corridor toward the great gate.
It will all come clear tomorrow.

AITRUS ROSE EARLY THE NEXT MORNING. AT
supper the previous evening he had said nothing to Anna, nor had he hinted at what he planned. Yet even as he ate a hasty breakfast, a servant brought him in a second letter, the handwriting on the envelope the same as that on the anonymous note the day before.

Aitrus stared at the envelope a long while, then, with a sigh of resignation, slit it open with his fingernail. Inside was a brief note in the same hand as before, but with it was a letter—a letter from Veovis to one of the two young guildsmen who had gone missing thirty days back.

He read it through, then looked to the date at the top of the page. That was the day before the guildsmen disappeared.

“No,” he said quietly, setting the letter aside and picking up the note once more. “It is not possible …”

The note read: “Come and see me if you wish to know more” and gave a time and place. That place was the merchant’s house in J’Taeri.

Three choices now lay before him: to go to Master Jadaris and lay the matter before him; to go straight to K’veer and confront Veovis; or to wait until tonight and meet the author of the note.

The first was common sense; the second satisfied his sense of honor; but it was the third he would do.

Why? He could not answer why. It was simply how he was.

Forgive me, Anna
, he thought, slipping the note and letter into his pocket and rising from his seat.

VEOVIS STOOD BESIDE A’GAERIS ON THE GREAT
rock, looking out across the massive plain that stretched away below him and shook his head. Everything was subtly wrong. The colors were unnatural, the shapes of trees, even the way the hills were formed, all was wrong. Yet it existed.

He turned, looking through his lenses at A’Gaeris. “Who made this?”

A’Gaeris turned, his eyes gleaming beyond the surface of the protective glasses. “Your old friend, Aitrus.”

“Impossible,” Veovis said dismissively. “Aitrus and his kin own but two Ages—Ko’ah and Gemedet. Both are strictly monitored by the Maintainers. If either were anything like this … well, it would not be allowed.”

“Yet this
is
his Age,” A’Gaeris said, smiling now as he handed Veovis the Linking Book.

“No,” Veovis said quietly, disbelief vying with horror as he stared at the handwriting on the pages of the Book. It
was
Aitrus’s. He had seen Aitrus’s hand too often to be in doubt.

“He is experimenting,” A’Gaeris answered, matter-of-factly. “Secretly, of course, for he knows the guilds would frown upon his activities. The woman leads him on, of course. Without her he would never have strayed from the D’ni path. It is her insidious influence we see all about us, Veovis. The wrongness … that is her doing.”

Veovis looked about him, then nodded, half-convinced.

“Poor Aitrus.”

“You pity him?”

Veovis looked up, a flash of anger in his eyes. “He was a good man, once. As you rightly say, the outsider has bewitched him and stolen his senses.” He closed the Book and shook it. “If
this
is true …”

A’Gaeris put his arm out, indicating their surroundings. “Can you doubt it?”

“No … no, it is clear to me now.”

Veovis sighed heavily.

A’Gaeris stared at him, as if sympathetic. “Would you like me to leave you for a while?”

Veovis nodded, then, with a small sad smile, opened the Linking Book for the Philosopher. The square on the right-hand page glowed softly, showing a picture of a study back on D’ni.

A’Gaeris met his eyes a moment. “There
is
more.”

“More?”

“Yes. This is not the only Age he made. Perhaps you would like to see a few before you make up your mind what to do.”

Again Veovis nodded, clearly shocked by this news.

“Well,” A’Gaeris said finally, putting out his hand, “I shall leave you now. Farewell.”

His hand touched the glowing box. In a moment he was gone.

Veovis closed the Book and pocketed it, then looked up again. There was a curious beauty to this world, yet it
was
wrong.