Thorn Boy and Other Dreams of Dark Desire (45 page)

I raised my
arm in the hope of waving wildly enough for him to see me, but Ast
thrust out a hand from between her veils and stopped me. ‘No!’

‘
It’s
quite all right,’ I said. What unenlightened place had she come
from, where prevailing social customs condemned young men
innocently sitting in a public place with unknown women?

‘
If you
want to go to him, I must leave,’ she said. ‘It’s up to
you.’

‘
But
why? We’ve only just started our conversation.’

‘
That’s
just the way it is. Make up your mind.’

I stood up. ‘I
must go. It would be impolite not to. I promised to meet him here.’
If I had hoped to call her bluff, I was mistaken.

‘
Then
go.’

I hesitated,
and began an awkward introduction to suggesting we might meet
again. ‘Could we...’

‘
Tomorrow morning,’ she snapped, clearly anticipating my
request. ‘I shall be at the Pyramid again. There is an inn called
The King’s Stair nearby. Wait there in the late morning and I’ll
come to you.’

I was so
surprised by this, having expected a cold good-bye, or at least a
need for gentle persuasion, that I simply nodded wordlessly and
walked off across the plaza. Halfway to my father’s table I turned
back, but Ast had already gone, leaving the rest of the bread and
pate uneaten.

Because of
Moomi’s earlier reaction to the girl, I decided not to mention
having met her in the Library. Our earlier visit to the Pyramid had
apparently left my father in a state of spiritual intoxication;
even Moomi looked slightly impatient with him.

For the rest
of the day, Moomi and I investigated other areas of the city,
dragging my father, who seemed blind to the wonders on offer, along
with us. We went to the cat market and watched the auction of an
enormous leopard, who wore a jewelled collar and sat licking his
paws in apparent disdain as rich merchants bid for him. Cats are
sacred animals in Charidotis, and ailuromancy (divination by
cat-watching) is a widespread form of prediction.

Later, we
ventured into the nut market, where we found a restaurant in which
to take our evening meal. Moomi must have been bored with both my
father and myself, for we were equally distracted. All I could
think about was Ast. She had disturbed me, but the memory of her
was exciting. I couldn’t wait to see her again.

It was a long
night, but I did not dream of her.

In the
morning, we all went to the Pyramid again. We intended to stay in
Charidotis for six days and this would be the way each day would
begin. I couldn’t be bothered with all that queuing again, and I
told my father I wanted to spend some hours examining the carvings
on the outer walls of the tomb. On one side there were steps that
zig-zagged right up to the summit. I thought I’d climb them before
I went to meet Ast.

The view from
the summit of the Pyramid was stultifying. The lands of three
countries, Ou, Miplux and Cos, were visible from there. The most
celebrated monument of Miplux, the Great Obelisk of Ewt, could be
distinguished in the bluish haze of the distance. The river was a
silver ribbon across the land, an artery from Cos in the north,
that led down to the lifeblood of the delta and drained into the
Great Sea, Ertang. I wished that Ast was with me. I could have
pointed out in which direction Elanen lay, on the northern marshes
of the delta.

Eventually, I
could not contain my impatience and hurried back down the Pyramid
steps. It took me some time to find the inn Ast had spoken of, and
I dreaded she had been there before me, had got tired of waiting
and had already left. I asked at the bar if a woman of her
description had been there, but the pot-girl shook her head.
Encouraged, I purchased a cup of ale and sat outside, beneath a
twisted orange tree, to await Ast’s arrival. She appeared through
the crowd almost immediately, as if she had been waiting, hidden
nearby, looking out for my arrival. Her slight willowy figure came
gliding towards me, and I felt my heart crash. It was a feeling of
longing but, in some bizarre way, also one of horror. I decided I
must see what lay beneath the veils once more, to reassure
myself.

Ast greeted me
curtly and sat down. I offered to buy her a drink, but she
demurred. ‘I have just taken lunch with my friends,’ she said. I
was immediately curious.

‘
What
are they like? Are they the same age as you? Are they male or
female?’

The veils were
motionless. I had no idea what she was thinking, whether she was
amused or affronted. ‘Maybe I will have a drink,’ she said.

Inside the
inn, I fumbled with coins, terrified that she would have fled by
the time I returned to the table. But when I emerged she was
sitting there still, one arm lying on the table in front of her. It
was a strong, slim arm, with nut-brown skin, and the long-fingered
hand was far from delicate. I felt that hand had purpose and was
not disposed to idle tasks. Perhaps my unconscious mind thought of
death, then.

She drank all
of the ale I had bought her, though without speaking. I tried to
begin conversation several times but she would not be drawn out. I
feared she regretted suggesting we should meet again and my heart
hammered against my ribs as I searched my empty mind for something
fascinating to say. In retrospect, it is easy to see that Ast was
preoccupied rather than bored.

Presently, she
put down her empty cup and appeared to appraise me minutely through
her veils. I felt myself colour, sure she was thinking badly of me
and my appearance, even though I considered myself well-favoured,
and had often been told as much. Then she announced, ‘I would like
you to come with me to the place where I am staying.’

A chill of
clenched my flesh. ‘I thought my company did not please you...’

She neither
laughed nor sought to reassure me. ‘It is your choice,’ she
said.

I was
terrified, elated, weak, yet eager. ‘I would like to see your
face,’ I said.

She stood up.
‘Follow me, then.’

It was in a
quiet part of the city, away from the noisy pilgrims’ hostels. I
thought she had taken me to a private house for, once inside, there
was no indication we had entered a hostel or an inn. I commented
upon this and Ast replied, ‘This is what money can buy for the
discerning traveller.’ I bridled at her scorn. What did she want
with me? To her I must seem like an untutored, provincial creature.
I was romantic, then, and believed lust to be an adjunct to love,
rather than the other way around. Of course, I was falling in love
with her even before I saw her face again. She repulsed me, she
intrigued me, she filled me with terror and desire. In the
movements of the girl, in her words, her very shape in space, her
use of time, a prophecy resided. Yet I was blind to it. I could
only interpret the feelings she inspired in me as love, for I was
inexperienced. Perhaps, in those moments, I was influenced more by
the romantic optimism of Cairus Casso rather than the dour vision
of Adragor the Lame, whose sentiments, had I been open to them,
would have been considerably more useful.

The house was
sleeping in the afternoon; we saw no-one on the stairs or in the
corridors. Ast’s room was a darkened place, with blinds drawn over
the windows; the light was sepia. There were two beds, and items
strewn around that suggested occupancy. She shared this room with
someone. Where were they? I felt a stab of jealousy. She could have
a lover, out there in the city somewhere.

Ast left me
standing awkwardly in the centre of the room while she busied
herself in the shadows beside the door. Presently, she brought me a
cup of wine. I took a sip. It was red, and dry as the desert. Would
she sully her veils now and take the ruby liquor through them? She
watched me as I drank, and I sensed her enjoyment of my
predicament. There was something unnatural about her: the invisible
vigilance, her taut stillness. I sensed threat. Then, with absolute
precision, with those strong, slim hands, she carefully peeled back
the veils from around her face. I felt light-headed as I watched
her, terrified something vile would be revealed.

Her appearance
did come as a shock, but simply because I could look into her eyes.
Her beauty was almost abnormal, yet I was not allowed the luxury of
exploring it. She had me impaled with her eyes, and they were all I
could examine. I could neither move nor speak. Then she began to
unshroud herself.

The outer
veils were discarded first, cast off to lie about her feet in a
fretting pool, worried by the draught coming from beneath the door.
Beneath this outer covering, she was wrapped in a complicated
bandaging of fabric; blues of every hue. Never allowing me to evade
her gaze for an instant, she began to unwind herself, her slender
body swaying as she did so. Gradually, she revealed her upper arms,
her neck, her shoulders. I thought of the serpent, and how it sheds
its skin. I was entranced by her, utterly entrapped within the
static silence of the room. I did not feel afraid, for I was beyond
fear. I had become condensed desire, for that is what she
wanted.

Languorously,
she peeled herself to the waist. Her skin was a pale, golden brown,
lighter in colouring than her arms and hands. She was like an
idealised statue of a woman brought to life; the breasts perfect,
the flesh poreless and smooth, yet with the appearance of silken
velour. I longed to touch her, and she danced towards me slowly,
her hair a shifting forest of darkness about her shoulders. Her
peculiar garments hung down about her hips, obscuring the rest of
her exquisite form, which I was desperate to behold. She reached up
to cup my face with her hands. ‘You, the unbeliever,’ she murmured,
and kissed me. My arms went around her and locked; my whole body
felt contused with blood. I could not even return her kiss, but it
did not seem to concern her. This was the moment when the secrets
of adult passion would be revealed to me. My initiation. Ast drew
back, and her hands went to her hips. ‘Now you will know all of
me,’ she said.

I felt it
then: the cold. And in my deepest heart, I must have realised the
truth, because I had held her close.

I did not feel
saved when the door opened behind me, nor thwarted. I felt
released, but crushed. Light came into the room, and presence. Ast
uttered an exclamation, and her arms went around her breasts. An
older woman, also dressed in blue but with an unveiled face,
hurried past me and grabbed Ast’s arms. They did not speak aloud to
one another, but their eyes said many things. Then the woman shook
Ast’s body. ‘Are you mad?’ she snapped. ‘Here? In this place?’

‘
He is
mine!’ Ast hissed. ‘He wants me!’

The
woman laughed harshly. ‘Wants
you
? He doesn’t know
what
he wants. He’s only a boy.’

I cannot
recall whether I spoke or moved while this transaction took place.
I might as well have not been there, but then the older woman
turned her head to me and said, ‘Go, boy! This is no place for
you.’

Ast snarled
then, and spat out a tirade of expletives. It did not surprise me
to hear it, though some of the words were unknown to me. She
struggled with her companion, clawed at her.

‘
Go!’
repeated the woman to me, keeping Ast in a firm hold. ‘You should
thank me for it.’ Something in her voice, or the simple evidence of
her last words, sent me fleeing from the house. I heard them
shouting at one another as I ran along the street below her window,
but could not discern the words.

I was almost
delirious with conflicting emotions by the time I reached the
sanctuary of our pilgrims’ hostel. As I had raced down the last few
streets of my escape, I had felt as if a formless danger was
chasing me. I kept visualising Ast sprinting up behind me, her
breasts bared, her beautiful hands clawed, her hair wild. My back
prickled with anticipation of the attack, when she would leap upon
me. Then what?

I slammed into
our room and leaned upon the door. Drooping there, panting and
groaning, it was some moments before I realised Moomi was sitting
up on her bed, staring at me in surprise. Presumably, I had woken
her up from an afternoon nap.

‘
What
have you done?’ she demanded. It must have been obvious I’d been
running from something.

I sat down on
my own bed, my head hanging between my knees. Moomi padded over to
me, and put a hand on the back of my neck. She made soothing
noises, asked me no further questions. After a while, I looked up
at her, and said, ‘The girl we saw, the girl in the Pyramid...’

‘
De blue
woman,’ she answered, and sighed. She sat down next to me and
hugged me fiercely. I could not understand why. ‘She found you,’
Moomi said.

‘
I
found
her
,’ I amended. ‘It
was... something
strange
has
happened.’

‘
Tell!’
Moomi commanded. I realised she was frightened for me.

What was there
to tell? It was difficult. ‘We met,’ I began. ‘I went to her house.
She was... odd. Then someone came into the room. I was sent away.’
I shrugged. ‘That was all.’

Moomi exhaled
noisily. ‘Stay away! She smell your innocence. She want it. No, she
not for you, not your kind. Forget.’

‘
What
is
she, Moomi?
What is it you don’t like about her?’

‘
She a
blue woman, wid de power of fear and desire. She turn light to her
own colour. De blue woman fill a man wid longing, yet he scared of
her. He can’t turn away. Bad luck. Knowledge of her change a man.
She, de girl we saw, she blue.’ Moomi clawed her hands and
grimaced, mimicking a predatory thing. ‘She devour a
man.’