Burying the Shadow (38 page)

My eyes slid
straight into the attentive gaze of Avirzah’e Tartaruchi. He had
obviously sidled up while my back had been turned. His proximity
made me flinch away; it was as if a flame had passed too close to
my skin. I took a quick internal reading of the situation: Beth was
calm, but somehow bemused, while my own mind fizzed in anticipation
and anguished excitement. Why did the Tartaruch have this effect on
me? I reached for Beth’s right hand and said, in my coolest voice,
‘Good evening, Avirzah’e. I hope you are well.’

He blinked
slowly and smiled, inclining his head the merest fraction. ‘I am in
the best of health, Lady Gimel.’

I could not
stop looking at his mouth; the finely sculpted lips, the hint of
his perfect teeth. I kept imagining that mouth against my brother’s
skin; more than that, I could feel it on my own, above the heart.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘I am immeasurably glad.... Beth, perhaps we should
leave now. I feel a little tired.’

‘Leaving so
soon?’ Avirzah’e said, his voice full of mockery. ‘I won’t hear of
it! Let me summon an attendant to refresh your glasses!’

‘No, thank
you, Avirzah’e,’ I said.

He smiled at
me in an intimate fashion. ‘Aah! You have been travelling, Lady
Gimel, haven’t you! Hence the feeling of enervation. I had not
thought it would be so soon, but then events have taken a turn for
the dramatic haven’t they?’

I was aghast
he could talk so plainly in company. Hadith had half-veiled her
eyes; she looked interested in our conversation and deeply aware of
my discomfort. Sandalphon’s boyish face was curiously blank, as if
he was waiting for someone, or something, to imprint an expression
on it. Beth was utterly still and silent beside me. I did not look,
but I knew his eyes were fixed on the Tartaruch. I felt as if we
were enacting a poignant scene from a tragic play - deaths,
deceptions and pierced hearts were sure to follow.

Avirzah’e
shrugged abruptly. ‘Well, you are clearly too exhausted to string a
sentence together, so don’t let me detain you!’ His eyes, damn
them, looked right into my heart, my mind, my soul. We hadn’t
spoken since the day he had called on me; since then, I had
betrayed him to Metatron, and he had tried to steal Beth away from
me. It was absurd we were standing here talking politely, however
superficial that politeness was. I inclined my head to him and
addressed the Sarim.

‘Your
performance was excellent tonight, Hadith, a welcome relief.’ I
smiled at her father. ‘I will call on you soon, Sandalphon, over
the next day or two.’

Everyone made
noises of farewell, and I linked my arm through Beth’s and made to
leave the Chamber. My heart had begun to beat erratically; I should
have realised the confrontation was not over. As I passed him,
Avirzah’e caught hold of my arm.

‘Everyone is
friends tonight, Gimel’ he said. ‘We need to close ranks, don’t we?
Whatever ill feeling has passed between us, forgive me now, as I
have forgiven you. Kiss me farewell.’

I could not
believe his audacity. His voice had been loud enough for the Sarim
to hear, but I did not care if they thought me ill-mannered.

‘I would as
soon kiss a heap of ordure!’ I said.

Silence fell
in our immediate vicinity.

‘Gimel!’ Beth
hissed. Up until then, he had not spoken a word.

Avirzah’e had
narrowed his eyes. I realised, too late, that I had played into his
hands. ‘You are a wilful creature, Gimel,’ he said. ‘I admire your
spirit, if not your social graces. So, there is to be no
reconciliation between us. I am disappointed. However, if you won’t
make amends, at least allow me to kiss your brother in proxy.’

‘That is a
ridiculous request!’ I said, although the words were difficult. My
mouth had gone utterly numb. ‘I cannot speak for my brother; he has
his own mind.’

‘Do you?’
Avirzah’e asked Beth.

‘I resent the
implications of this conversation,’ Beth said weakly. My heart
contracted at his predicament.

‘She is a
strong, strong creature!’ Avirzah’e said with a laugh and then,
with serpent speed, he grabbed hold of Beth’s left hand. Beth tried
to pull away, but the resistance was feeble. Avirzah’e raised both
their arms to shoulder height, his eyes full of fear and challenge.
A nauseous presentiment bleached the whole room to mist in my eyes.
I could see Beth’s knuckles straining through the flesh; yet his
face had gone curiously impassive.

‘Let me go,’
he said.

Beside us,
Sandalphon made a small, anguished noise, as if he was about to
intervene.

‘You let
me
go,’ Avirzah’e said, and then Beth’s face went completely
ashen.

I squeezed his
other hand hard; his whole body was shaking. The Aurelium dipped
and swayed; conversation receded like a twittering tide. I could no
longer see Beth’s knuckles stretching his skin, for the simple
reason they were no longer visible. His hand, and Avirzah’e’s, had
become light, become another substance, become
one
substance. I felt the thrill of it course up my arm; I was part of
it. Through the medium of Beth, Avirzah’e plunged straight into my
soul. It happened so quickly, nobody but ourselves and the Sarim
were aware of it. The conjunction seemed to last an eternity, but
then, I became aware of noise around me again. Avirzah’e laughed,
released Beth’s hand, and kissed him briefly on the cheek.

‘Good night,
Metatronim. Hurry home and sleep well!’ He bowed to Sandalphon,
without looking once at me, turned smartly on his heel and swept
off into the crowd. I could not believe my ominous presentiments
had been so accurate.

Sandalphon’s
face was stern, to say the least. ‘I think we should talk in
private,’ he said. ‘Now!’

Hadith looked
simply stunned, her mouth hanging open.

‘I... It
was...’ I groped for words. I felt soiled, responsible,
defeated.

‘Gimel,’
Sandalphon said, ‘I think it would be best if you and your brother
accompanied me to one of the private chambers annexing this room.
This should not be discussed in public.’

‘Yes... yes.’
I nodded helplessly. Hadith extended her arms to embrace me, but
Sandalphon, in an uncharacteristic moment of aggressiveness,
slapped her hands away.

Beth began
walking swiftly towards the door. Making further confused gestures
at the Sarim, I hurried after him. He had no intention of seeking a
private room, I could tell. At the gilded doorway to the Chamber, I
took hold of my brother’s arm. By the time we came to the outer
hall, he had shaken me off. Around us, jewelled lamps burned dimly,
throwing out long, gloomy shadows. Beth was unsteady on his feet,
and his eyes were full of rage. He stood for a moment and pressed
his fingers against his eyes. I wanted to soothe him, but my mouth
was dry of words. It was as if I had forgotten what language was; I
was simply a maelstrom of feeling.

Beth lowered
his hands and sighed. He blinked rapidly as if to dispel an
illusion. He turned his head and stared into the darkness, beyond
the dim colours of the lamps. Then, he began to walk towards
it.

At the end of
the hall, in a place where there are no doors, is a dark statue. It
is of an eloim in armour, twice life-size, and carved from
unpolished black marble. One hand of the statue wields a sword, the
other hand claws at its beautiful face, which is contorted by pain.
The reason this carving stands in the Hall of the Castile is very
complex; it is both a reminder and a regret. It symbolises
desolation, loss, betrayal, unavoidable sacrifice, the conflict of
beloved brothers. The name of that statue is rarely uttered. Its
name is Mikha’il.

Beth stood
there, staring up through the darkness into the anguished stone
face. There were no lamps around it; Mikha’il is ever in shadow in
this world. I padded to my brother’s side and took his hand; this
time, he did not pull away from me. Together, we stared into the
face of Mikha’il.

We could not
speak. I felt tears gather in my eyes. Did Beth really see a
parallel between himself and Mikha’il? Standing there, I had to
admit there were similarities.

Beth broke the
silence. ‘Is he grieving still, do you suppose?’ he asked.

I did not bother to
answer the question; it was impossible to conjecture. ‘I think we
should speak to Sandalphon,’ I said. ‘He is wise, and kind. We must
speak to somebody!’

Beth did not
look at me. He dropped my hand. ‘I will speak to the only person
who can advise me,’ he said. ‘Sandalphon cannot possibly understand
this situation.’

He put his
hand upon the leg of the statue, in the place where the thigh was
bared. He stroked the stone. Mikha’il’s ferocity is contained, and
therefore more devastating. He has a sword in his hand and above
the heart his armour is pierced. He is wounded there, above the
heart.

Light as a
cat, Beth leapt up onto the statue’s plinth. ‘What are you doing?’
I hissed, looking round to see if anyone else was in the hall. ‘Get
down!’

Beth ignored
me. He climbed the statue and balanced on the stone armour. He put
his arms around Mikha’il, and lifted his head to the unsmiling
lips. ‘Don’t Beth, don’t!’ I tugged at his clothes, but it was no
use. He kissed the statue on the mouth. I was transfixed, unsure of
whether what I was witnessing was heresy, invocation, madness or
blessing. Beth rested his head on Mikha’il’s shoulder. I think he
was weeping.

We were torn
apart. I was at one end of the world, he at the other. So distant.
He did not look upon this as our problem, but his problem alone. He
did not want me to be part of it.

There was a
movement behind me. I knew who it was without having to turn round
and confirm my suspicions with my eyes. I knew now that I would
recognise his presence on a spiritual level, forever. ‘Avirzah’e
you are evil,’ I said. ‘Evil and stupid!’

‘Cruel words,’
he said affably. I turned round, then. He was looking at the
statue, smiling gently. There was no malice in his face, but his
eyes were bright and feverish.

‘You cannot
understand,’ he said. ‘If you were sensible, you would join with
us, but you are not. You are Metatron’s creature and simply that.
It is a shame, but...’

Overcome by
rage, and other more complex feelings, I spat in his face.

Avirzah’e
merely flinched. ‘You have no idea of the strength of my regard for
you,’ he said. ‘It has always been there. Beth is a beauty; a
watery spirit, while you are earth and fire and air combined. I
have always been drawn to you both; always, knowing that the
following of that call was dangerous, and that its consummation
would invoke unprecedented wonders. I think you have known this
too, but Metatron has disciplined you too well.’ He looked at me.
‘I cannot help you, Gimel, and for that, I am sorry.’

His words were
like strong hands around my throat; I could not speak and could
hardly breathe. I could only stand there, stripped of my powers. I
could only stand there as he walked past me to the foot of the
statue and said, ‘Beth, come down, I will take you home.’

Beth looked at
him. ‘I can get home by myself,’ he said.

Avirzah’e
shook his head. ‘No, you misunderstand me. I am taking you to
my
home.’ He held out his hand and, after a moment’s
consideration, Beth jumped down, although he avoided Avirzah’e’s
waiting arms.

‘Beth, don’t
go with him!’ I said.

‘We have
things to do,’ Avirzah’e said reasonably. ‘Eloim power must be
rekindled. If no-one else is strong enough to take responsibility,
I will do so myself.’ He looked at Beth whose face, in those
moments, was uncannily similar in expression and appearance to the
statue’s. Beth closed his eyes painfully and nodded.

I felt
completely bloodless. Avirzah’e had beaten me, or had I defeated
myself? ‘Beth, why did you kiss Mikha’il?’ I asked. ‘You clearly do
not intend to follow his path.’

Beth sighed.
‘Some would say that a long time ago, Mikha’il himself took the
wrong turning.’ He took my hands in his own. ‘Do not judge me,
sister. I have to account for my actions, impulsive or not. I have
to do what is ordained. There is no choice.’ He kissed me on the
lips, very briefly. ‘Do you love me?’

I looked at
him steadily. ‘You know I do - in all but one way, which, as an
eloim - and a creature of good sense - I have forsaken. You are
contemplating folly, Beth, you are risking ruin.’

He nodded. ‘I
understand how you feel about this,’ he said. ‘But I cannot agree
with you. Do not worry for me.’

‘You are
welcome to join us,’ Avirzah’e said. I dared not look at him.

‘No,’ I said,
and turned to face the statue, until I was sure they had left the
Hall. I stared at the wound on Mikha’il’s breast, which some say
will never heal. On Earth, eloim had individuated. We lived in
isolation, but it was a condition with which we had become
familiar. Once, it had not been so. Beth was right. Sandalphon was
not the person to talk to. I knew, in my heart, who was.

Gimel

‘…
but his face
deep scars of thunder had entrenched, and care sat on his faded
cheek, but under brows of dauntless courage…’

Paradise Lost,
Book I

Sandalphon came to our
house just after dawn the next morning, but I was ready for him. In
fact, I hadn’t slept. After returning home, I had conducted
Tamaris’ rejuvenation and checked Ramiz over for signs of
degeneration. Satisfied that my household was in order, I bathed
myself and projected my consciousness out into Khalt to check on
proceedings. All seemed to be progressing steadily, although I was
slightly disturbed by the fact that Rayojini seemed more difficult
to make contact with than usual. Perhaps Amelakiveh’s proximity to
her was affecting our link. Beth, of course, did not come home. I
shut him out of my mind.