Norton, Andre - Novel 23 (36 page)

 
          
 
She viewed their coming first with surprise,
and then with an expression which mingled fear and anger.

 
          
 
"Go away!" she shrilled. "Don't
you dare bring her
here!
"

 
          
 
"Not so, younger sister." From the
moon door came the Fox Lady. But this time her face was wholly human. In one
hand was a thing wrought of fur, and Saranna recognized it for a mask, very
realistically made.

 
          
 
"Why do you bring her here?" Now the
mistress of the garden addressed Gerrad Fowke.

 
          
 
"Because of your woven illusion, Kung Chu
Yiieh," he answered.

 
          
 
"You call me by a name forbidden, a rank
no longer acknowledged. How do know you that name and rank?" she asked
coldly.

 
          
 
"I have been in the Eastern lands, Kung
Chu Yiieh. A story as strange as yours is not easily forgotten. No; rather
passing years have already made it a legend oft-times repeated. The tale of the
daughter of a Prince of Banners who was stolen by coast pirates, rescued by one
of the Western barbarians (as your people name us) to become the First Lady of
his inner courts—"

 
          
 
"I am a nameless one. No such woman as
you speak of could have returned to her clan after that had happened to her.
She would be dead to her house.
That I found refuge with one
who paid me honor, for that do I thank Kwan Yin.
Had I been a worthy
daughter of my blood I should have put an end to my own life, so was my face
blackened by the act of the tiger ones from the sea. But my mother was of
Ping-yang, of a very ancient House whereof the women had the Old Knowledge. And
it was given to me in my hour of need that I was more of my mother's clan than
of my father's—great lord though he was.

 
          
 
"So I lived, and I found contentment. For
my Western lord paid me honor and gave me my wish, though I must come to dwell
in a far land and learn an uncouth tongue that I might talk with him. In his
way he was kind, and I was another of his treasures which he loved. But with
A-Han who had been my mother's nurse, I learned more and more of the ancient
wisdom.
For it is legend that my mother's clan had many born
among them who were blood-kin, heart-kin to the furred ones."
She
held up the mask.

 
          
 
"It amused my new lord that I could bring
the furred ones to me, and he ruled that they should not be harmed." She
was silent a moment.

 
          
 
" 'The
messenger
of death enters and all business stops—'" she quoted.
"
'When
the waters sink, the stones show.' My lord wove about this place
such protection for the future as he could. But with his passing, who cared for
rules made by one already
Gone
Above? This younger
sister," she touched Damaris lightly on the shoulder, "was also under
threat. The rule of a child means nothing in the eyes of those grown to full
stature. So again I sought the Old Knowledge striving to protect her, for she
is of the true blood of my lost lord.

 
          
 
"Then came this other—" She glanced
at Saranna. "And in her spirit there rests that which is kin. Like knows
like upon first meeting. Also, the reading of the wands said that she was the
key to my lock. I set upon her the sign of my furred people, that in her hour
of need, they would protect her.

 
          
 
"The Old Knowledge may warn, it can
foresee, but it is hard to use. Though these younger sisters gave me of the
strength in our hour of danger, yet there is only so much that I may do. But
she —" now she indicated Honora, "had
a blackness
in her heart which opened the gates for my magic. She looked upon the Mirror of
the Goddess and saw herself as she really is. Now she would hide from that
sight, yet the memory of it scars her mind."

 
          
 
"It will drive her mad," Gerrad
answered. "If you have any pity, let her go."

 
          
 
"Let her go? But I do not hold her. She
has laid the curse upon herself."

 
          
 
"It is an illusion," he repeated
stubbornly. "Having woven it, you can also destroy it."

 
          
 
Then the Fox Lady sighed.
"Perhaps—perhaps— “

 
          
 
"No," Damaris caught at her sleeve.
"If you do, she'll try to get rid of you again—"

 
          
 
"Not at all," Gerrad's voice was
clear. "I will promise that!"

 
          
 
For a moment which seemed to spin on and on,
the Fox Lady eyed him. Then she nodded, as if she had read something in his
expression which answered an unvoiced question.

 
          
 
"Get the mirror, young sister. No, this
shall be well. There are other forces at work here, a choice has been made and
it is the right choice—one which will lead to the lifting of a cloud."

 
          
 
Reluctantly, Damaris went. When she returned
through the moon door she carried the mirror and gave it into the Fox Lady's
hands.

 
          
 
"Hold her head high," Kung Chu Yueh
ordered. "If Heaven allows, she shall see what is granted her to
see."

 
          
 
Gerrad forced Honora's head up. She whimpered,
fought against his hold. But at last, she was facing the mirror, her eyes
squeezed tightly shut.

 
          
 
"Open your eyes! Look!"

 
          
 
As if that command had stitched threads to
Honora's eyelids, and drew them apart, now she stared into the mirror. Her face
contorted in horror and then slowly relaxed as she continued to gaze.

 
          
 
"It is gone—all gone," she said with
a child's wonder.

 
          
 
"It is gone unless you summon it again,
for it pictures the evil within you," answered Kung Chu Yueh.

 
          
 
"Now listen well." Her sweep of gaze
included them all. "It is not my desire to play your games longer. I and
my people wish only to be left in peace, contained within our own small world
as the meat is contained safely within the shell of an uncracked nut. My lord's
treasures shall be returned to his
house,
those of his
kin shall be left to follow their own path. Between my dwelling and theirs, the
door shall be closed—"

 
          
 
"No, please, no!" Damaris cried out.

 
          
 
"But yes, younger sister
. '
Teachers open the door, you enter by yourself.' You have
lingered nearly too long in the courts of childhood, it is time you walk into
the future. I grow old and tired, and elder ones wish to sleep easily among the
dreams of years past, not be called to confront problems of the future. For
that belongs to you, my younger sisters," now she included Saranna,
"not to one such as
I
. Such good fortune as the
Old Knowledge has given me to summon, that do I leave unto you both."

 
          
 
She turned from them, and walked with her
dancer's grace across the terrace. Damaris took a step as if to follow and then
hesitated. Saranna could guess why. There was about that regal figure now such
an air of withdrawal as they dared not intrude upon.

 
          
 
Within the moon door she vanished. And then,
for the first time, Saranna saw a screen panel slide across that round opening,
shutting them out. Damaris began to cry softly and Saranna went to her.

 
          
 
"Don't," she said. "How do you
know—she may change her mind
someday.
And if you
become the woman she thinks you will,
then
she will
want to see you."

 
          
 
"Yes," Damaris smeared the back of
her hand across her eyes. "Yes, at least I can hope—"

 
          
 
Gerrad Fowke, leading Honora, had already
started back through the torn garden. Saranna and Damaris came behind. But
Saranna, seeing how he led and supported Honora, felt desolate and empty. At
that moment, she wished that she could also draw shut a moon gate, shut out the
life as it was for a dream of illusion.

 
          
 
But when she picked her way across the broken
wall, she found him waiting there alone. Honora was moving on around the house,
her maid with her.

 
          
 
"I wonder," he was examining the
stones which had been torn from their settings to make that opening, "if
she expects us to rebuild."

 
          
 
"You believe her then," Damaris
asked, "she won't want to see us again?"

 
          
 
"I should think," he returned,
"after the activity of this day she would have no
wish
to see more of the Western barbarians. She has a legendary past, you know. Even
in her own country, they speak of her carefully and with deference. One does
when one discusses someone with her powers. I would take her at her word,
Damaris. Suppose you get ready for the return of the collection; she ought to be
sending that back forthwith—“

 
          
 
Damaris put her head on one side, glanced from
him to Saranna, with a little of the malicious awareness which she had shown
what now seemed weeks ago, though the real time could only be measured in days.

 
          
 
"Very well—" she replied with the
ostentatious virtue of one being very good and obedient.

 
          
 
"Honora"—Saranna said as the younger
girl hurried on ahead—"she will be all right now."

 
          
 
"Doubtless—for a while.
But Honora being Honora will not turn overnight into any pattern of good
will," he answered coolly. "She needs a husband to keep her busy, and
someplace beside Tiensin where she can play the lady."

 
          
 
"She has that—Queen's Pleasure—"
before she thought Saranna blurted out.

 
          
 
"Not Queen's Pleasure—never!" To her
vast amazement Gerrad Fowke shook his head. "I am not the kind of man
Honora can make and mold. And I am afraid if we were wed there might
come
sparks and then a roaring fire, or else a hurricane to
drive our ship on the lee shore. No, I'll have none of Honora—"

 
          
 
"But she—" Saranna was amazed past
prudence.

 
          
 
"Oh, Honora always believes what she
wants to. Have you not learned that by now? We shall find her a husband after a
while, if she has learned her lesson sufficiently well. No, the lady of Queen's
Pleasure will abide there in due time—in due time—" he repeated as if he
were Kung Chu Yiieh repeating some spell of noted potency.

 
          
 
Saranna's hands went to her bruised and
scratched face. She felt very hot and was sure she was blushing. Could one ever
be too happy? Maybe she would discover that—in Gerrad Fowke's "due
time."