Dreams and Shadows (The Aylosian Chronicles Book 1) (33 page)

Involuntarily, his former life came to mind and he saw a picture of his friend Col; his life in the alley next to Michael’s flat. Society had cast him aside, no longer knowing or caring what happened to him. But even in England, the poor weren’t so well concealed as the people of Aperocalsa had achieved. But he was brought back to the present as his mother whispered to him, “It is the Ashput,” as if that should explain the sight to him.

It was late, and as Eramica led Michael through the empty lanes that wound through the patchwork buildings he felt hardened mud under his feet. He imagined the hot summer months, dust swirling through the air attempting to choke those who dared to leave their crude huts. The rains would be no better, the streets transforming into a muddy mire.

His swirling emotions threatened to surface as they hurried along: an ache in his chest that sought release through tears; an anger that needed to explode in a rage from his throat; a fear that tried to push him into a shadowed corner where he could curl up and pretend that none of this was happening. Instead, he gripped his mother’s hand all the tighter as they silently moved through their new surroundings.

They soon stopped in front of a hut that looked like all of the others: odd stones piled next to and on top of each other, with planks of wood covering the remaining walls and on the roof. There was no additional building placed precariously on top of this one, however, giving some relief to Michael at the thought of entering the shack. Eramica then knocked: two quick taps followed by a third, a pause then another two quick knocks followed by a third, and finally another two quick taps. After waiting for maybe ten seconds, she repeated the series of knocks.

Michael could hear some shuffling inside the building, and then the door slowly opened, pausing just wide enough for a pair of eyes to peer through the crack. It was quickly opened fully, however, as the old man who now stood in front of them spoke, “Mica. Come in, come in. What is the matter that you are here so late?”

Eramica replied as she moved past the man, Michael following, “I am so sorry to disturb you, my friend, but my son and I need lodging for the night. Beyond that, I cannot say.”

“Your son?” he replied, now looking closely at Michael as he closed the door. “Well, that must be quite a tale. Will you tell me of it, Mica?”

“Of course,” she promised, “but perhaps in the morning?”

“Yes, yes. In the morning.” He turned away from them now and headed towards a doorway in the far corner. “Come through here, where you may sleep for the night.”

A small lantern was shining on a table against the far wall, and along with the additional light carried by their host, there was enough illumination for them to watch their steps, though it appeared to Michael that there was little to trip over. The small table and a couple of chairs appeared to be all the furniture in the room.

As they stepped through the humble home, the floorboards beneath them creaked, and Michael felt them bend just a little under his weight, though not so much as to threaten to split. The room the old man led them to was perhaps only ten feet square, but there were two piles of rugs against the walls, and it was certainly large enough for the two of them to sleep.

They were soon left alone, and they lay down, the room now dark without the lamp of the old man, and with no windows to allow moonlight.
 

“We will speak in the morning,” the voice of his mother came quietly across the small room, “but we will be safe here Rami, so you may sleep in peace.”

Her voice through the darkness was reassuring, although a part of him wished he was five summers old – young enough to cuddle into his mother and sleep in her arms. He stayed where he was, though, simply saying, “Thanks, mum.”

With all that had happened, he wasn’t able to sleep, and it was a long while before he could hear the steady breathing from the other side of the room indicating his mother had finally fallen into slumber. For himself, too much had happened. He had so many questions about what had happened and why. But more than that, his emotions kept the adrenalin flowing through his veins for much longer than was healthy. He had been betrayed. His mother was in danger. He had been denied his home. The terror that had touched him when he had seen Pava’s extended arm returned to him again and again. And with the thoughts of what nearly happened – of what would have happened if not for his dream’s warning – he was overcome with guilt; Aneh’s face appearing again and again.
 

He couldn’t understand why he felt such guilt. It was many moons since they had been together, and even then it had only been for a handful of dawns. They had been friends and nothing more, and even if he could ever return to the Elahish, she would surely now be Entwined. His desire for Pava couldn’t have been a betrayal – there was nothing to betray. Eventually, he managed to push the images of her out of his mind, finally slipping into new dreams as he did so.

***

Opening his eyes the next morning, he gazed across the room and saw his mother sitting with her legs curled under her. Enough light was peeking through the gaps between the wooden slats of the door to their room that he could see that she had been watching him. Her gentle smile accompanied her wistful stare, and Michael wondered whether she was thinking of the present moment, or whether lost winters were crowding her mind. The thought came to him that across time and place mothers throughout history had enjoyed gazing at their sleeping children: a loving guardianship that passed unseen over small boys and girls. Such a gift had been cruelly stolen from both Eramica and Michael, but here in the small shack of a hidden shantytown, it had been restored.

Their reciprocal gazes lasted a minute or more before Michael stirred his body, sitting up. He struggled to return Eramica’s smile, the thoughts from the previous night still heavy on him.

Silently she reached over to him, passing a piece of the loaf she had taken from her kitchen the previous night, and they both quietly ate, contemplating events. Eventually, his mother broke the silence, “Tell me now, Rami. What is our danger?”

As Michael swallowed his last piece of bread, he leaned back against the wall. Sighing, he began his tale: from when Pava had first said she loved him, through to his breathless arrival at Eramica’s door. His emotions nearly caught several times in his story. Pava’s betrayal had hurt him deeply, he feared greatly for both of them, and he felt anger for having been manipulated: a manipulation that he now realised went back many moons.

He left nothing out, including the feelings that had come when the premonition from his dream had appeared extended towards him. There were only four people to whom he had related his full dream. He had related some elements of it to a small handful of others, such as the Guardian, but he had kept the full tale to a small group: Col, back in England before he came to Aylosia; his mother; Lohka; and Aneh.
 
Again, he had to push thoughts of Aneh, and the guilt that accompanied them, from his mind as he spoke.

“I don’t understand,” he said, as he finished his tale. “Why? I mean, I’m only a lost boy who has finally found his mum. Why would they do that to me? And what would it achieve anyway?”

He didn’t wait for an answer as he continued, “They said Jashmarael wanted it to happen. But why?”

“Jashmarael?” asked his mother.

“The Guardian,” he answered, “that’s who he really is. I’m sure of it.”

Michael had wondered why the Guardian, as he was known, had been so kind to him. Jashmarael had admitted that he wasn’t able to know the lives of all of the people of Aperocalsa in detail, but despite that he had taken Michael – a stranger – in. He had given him a place in the Palace, and had ensured he was looked after. He had searched for, and found, his mother. He had met with him personally every few dawns to see how he was doing. And then, quite suddenly it seemed, he had tried to force him with Pava. None of it made any sense.

Pava, Samo, Leta, and others had all smiled at him when he had asked them about the Guardian’s kindness, saying only that he always tried to do what he could for those in need. And, although it still hadn’t felt quite right, Michael had accepted their explanations. After all, he had seen the Guardian’s kindness: often visiting schools to meet with small children, attending festivals and markets to mix directly with people to learn of their difficulties.

When he and Samo had been attacked in the alleyway several moons before, their assailants had spoken of the Guardian as ruthless and brutal, but he had seen no evidence of that accusation.

But that had all now changed. There were too many questions; too much evidence that things were not as they seemed.

Pava was certainly beautiful, and she had been so alluring. She had looked and sounded sincere when she had said she loved him. But there was no doubt that she had been the focus of the warning in his dream. Even the memory of her extended hand chilled him. And when he had resisted, the invitation had become attempted force… because the Guardian willed it.

The poverty that now surrounded him in makeshift homes was further evidence that the Guardian wasn’t as benign as he pretended to be. And, of course, he had hidden his identity as the ancient child of Ashael: if the ancient book was correct, apparently with a cunning plan to topple the Seer, someone Michael had assumed was nothing more than a myth.

He voiced none of these details as they repeated themselves in his head, but Eramica could see the turmoil in her son, “I do not know, Rami. But we should speak to Joh. He knows many of the Guardian’s secret plans and perhaps can help us understand.”

“Who’s Joh?” asked Michael.

“We are in Joh’s home,” came the reply. “It is best if he tells you of his history, but he knows many things, and has helped me in the past.”

Eramica’s immediate acceptance of the story Michael had told was a relief. He had worried that it would sound too fantastical; that the incongruity of his tale against the public persona of Jashmarael would be too great. But she had just spoken of the Guardian’s secret plans, so perhaps she had already known that not all was as it always seemed in this city. It made him briefly wonder anew at what she had learned through the summers she had searched for her son. For him.

The answers to their questions were urgent, and so they rose immediately to find Joh. As they entered the main room of their host’s home, they found a small fireplace that was emitting warmth from the gentle flames. Michael hadn’t noticed the fireplace the previous night and was surprised that the building of one was possible – or safe – with the scraps of materials cobbled together to build the shelter.

As his mother placed another log on the fire, he also wondered where the fuel came from. But he was pleased that at least the people in this forgotten part of the city had means to keep themselves warm in the cold weather. Although it was now spring, it had clouded over during the early marks of the morning, and he could see through a small window in the front wall of the building that a light rain was falling, adding a chill to the air that made the fire welcome.

But there was no sight of Joh, so Michael explored the streets from the small window, while Eramica sat quietly in front of the fire. It was obvious that she had been here before, and he was sure she could tell him much about this place, but his head was still spinning from everything that had happened and was grateful that no new information was being offered.

They remained like that for only a few minutes before Joh returned. As he entered through the front door, Michael realised that he wasn’t as old as he had thought the previous night. Although his hair was mostly silver, his beard still had remnants of his younger light brown showing through, and his blue eyes were alert.

“You are awake. That is good,” he said, his tenor voice strong.

“I have brought you some clothes,” he continued, handing a plain dress to Eramica and an equally inconspicuous pair of trousers and shirt to Michael. “If you are to stay here for any length of time, you will be noticed in your present attire.”

The new clothing Joh had brought them was similar to that worn by the people Michael had seen in the streets outside, and Michael was grateful for the man’s thoughtfulness.

“Thank you, Joh,” said Eramica, “I hope we will not inconvenience you for long. As soon as we understand our puzzle, we hope to be able to move on.”

“It is no inconvenience, Mica,” he replied. “But a puzzle?” He raised an eyebrow as he enquired, “You must tell me.”

Eramica’s mention of a puzzle had piqued Joh’s interest, and Michael wondered whether she had known that was necessary to gain his help. But she turned more sober as she replied to him, “We would be pleased to tell you and also to hear your counsel. But I must warn you that I do not know whether your knowledge of our plight will bring danger to you. It appears that it may involve some scheming of the Guardian.”

It was the first Michael had heard his mother speak of their danger, and he was both comforted to hear her confirm his fears, as well as frightened to hear her say that others too might be in danger just by knowing of it.
 

How much does she know about the Guardian?

But Joh didn’t seem worried. “Let me make some tea for us all, and then please tell me,” he said. “I am too old, and have already seen too much danger in my sixty three winters to fear such things.”

At that, he leaned down in front of the fireplace, and using a thick wooden rod removed a stone pot, from which he ladled hot water into some cups for the tea. Once they were comfortable, Eramica indicated Michael should start his tale from the moment of his arrival in Aylosia. There were only two chairs, but Michael was restless as he spoke; pacing back and forth, while his older companions quietly listened. When relating of his fear at seeing Pava’s outstretched arm, he was careful to avoid mention of the dream he had before his journey to this land, saying only that something about it had startled him.

The rain had stopped while he spoke, and the clouds were just beginning to part to allow the early afternoon sun to shine as he finished. There was silence for several minutes, Joh holding a look of intense concentration.