Student of Kyme (5 page)

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Authors: Storm Constantine

Tags: #fantasy, #magic, #constantine, #wraeththu, #hermaphrodite, #androgyny

BOOK: Student of Kyme
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Oh, so he
was a guard dog. I inclined my head. ‘Not really. I work for
Tiahaar Huriel, and he has asked me to speak to Tiahaar Malakess
personally.’

The har
wasn’t convinced, I could tell, but he thought about it for a few
seconds, then relented. ‘You’d better come in.’

I too
bowed my head politely and stepped over the threshold. Inside, I
could smell roses and the hallway was surprisingly light and airy.
A white tiled floor supported a well polished table and a stand by
the door for coats. Perhaps Malakess was renovating this house
gradually.


Wait here,’ said the assistant and marched off down a
corridor straight ahead. He had the same proprietorial air that
Jassenah in Jesith had had; maybe Malakess was his Ysobi. Suddenly,
the idea of my confession became infinitely less
attractive.

I didn’t
have to wait long. After only a minute or so, the assistant
returned. His expression was not at all friendly. ‘He’ll see you.
Follow me.’

I said
nothing, but complied with his order. He led me into the house and
paused at a door, upon which he knocked with a single knuckle. It
all seemed a bit ridiculous to me, since Malakess knew I was here.
A voice came from the room within: ‘Enter!’

The
assistant opened the door, pulled a mordant face at me, and
indicated I should obey the words of the great har. ‘Thank you,’ I
said, smiling sweetly, and stepped into the room. The door was
closed behind me so swiftly, the resulting gust of wind nearly made
me stagger.

This was
clearly Malakess’s office. There were book shelves, but they
weren’t as crammed as Huriel’s were. The desk was also smaller and
suspiciously tidy. I got the impression that Malakess had come here
swiftly to meet me, and that the room wasn’t used much usually. He
was leaning against the desk, arms folded, a tall lean shape poured
perfectly into the room. His hands were amazing. ‘What can I do for
you, Gesaril?’ he asked. ‘Huriel has a message for me?’


Not exactly,’ I replied. ‘He suggested I come and speak to
you.’ This was not going to be easy, I could tell. Perhaps I should
make an excuse and leave.

Malakess
nodded once. ‘Sit down… please.’ He moved behind the desk and took
a seat there. Now this was like a formal interview.

I sat
down on a window seat, which was in fact the only available place,
and it was just a fraction too far from the desk for comfort. I
might even have to raise my voice a little. This was absurd.
‘Huriel thinks I’ve been disrespectful to you,’ I said, improvising
my script wildly, since I now realised I hadn’t a clue what to
say.

Malakess
raised his eyebrows. ‘And you’re here to apologise?’


Yes… I’m sorry.’ There, that had been surprisingly
easy.


So, are you going to tell me now the reason behind your
behaviour?’

Hmm, I
wasn’t going to get away that easily after all. I refused to
squirm, but steeled myself to look him in the eye. It was like
being struck by a small bolt of lightning; those same electric
eyes. A small cold part of me suspected Malakess knew exactly what
I felt, but was cruel enough to make me say it. I wouldn’t give him
the satisfaction of seeing me suffer. ‘It has never been rudeness,
but discomfort,’ I said, trying to sound aloof and objective. ‘You
remind me of somehar, that’s all. Sometimes, it’s difficult to
ignore the jolts of recognition a deceptively familiar face
invokes. There’s nothing more to it than that. I never intended to
offend you, tiahaar.’


Who do I remind you of?’

I still
held his gaze. He thought this was very amusing. ‘I think you
know,’ I said, hopefully with dignity, and got to my feet. Whatever
Huriel’s fond projections for this meeting, it was clear they would
never be realised.


Oh, do sit down, Gesaril,’ Malakess said, laughing. ‘I’m
sorry. I don’t know, actually. I just hope it was somehar
presentable.’

I
wouldn’t sit down again, but decided not to leave just yet. ‘You
know my history?’ I asked.

Malakess
displayed his palms, shrugged. ‘Some of it. You came from Jesith
under a cloud. You’re reputed to be a troublesome young thing, or
maybe just troubled. It’s not my concern. It’s the past. Why dwell
on it?’


I trained in Jesith under Ysobi. You know of him?’

Malakess
nodded, pulled down the corners of his mouth in rather a caustic
smile. ‘Of course,’ he said dryly. ‘One of Kyme’s brightest
students, a credit to our academy.’


Our relationship became… unprofessional,’ I said. ‘It caused
problems in the community. I had to leave.’

Malakess
frowned. ‘I’m not sure I understand you, but then I don’t really
want to know. What has this to do with me?’


You look like him. You look like Ysobi.’ There, it was said.
I braced myself for his response.


Oh… A bad reminder. I see.’ He smiled more naturally. ‘Do I
really look like him? I can’t see it myself.’


It seems I’m the only one who can.’


So you’re afraid I’ll be harsh with you? You’re expecting
criticism or punishment, maybe? Please don’t think that. I know
nothing about you, really. I don’t care what you did in Jesith. As
long as you work well here, that’s all that matters. And from what
I’ve heard, you’re doing very well.’

In those
words, I sensed an impending dismissal. He didn’t get it at all:
thank the dehara. ‘Well… thank you,’ I said, ducking my head. ‘I
won’t keep you any longer. It was important to Huriel I explain
myself to you, and I intend to put all the ghosts behind me. I
appreciate you listening to me. I must sound very
stupid.’

Malakess
waved a hand at me. ‘Think nothing of it. I appreciate your honesty
also. I can see you find this difficult.’

I nodded.
‘I’m glad I came. Huriel was right.’

I began
to walk towards the door but Malakess called me back. ‘Gesaril,
please sit down again. I’d like to know more about you, your
aspirations and so on. Has Huriel devised a programme of work for
you? What about your caste training? Would you like tea? And don’t
sit over there. You’ll find a chair outside the door in the
hallway. Bring that in, sit by me.’

One thing
I think I learned about Malakess that day was that he is not
naturally devious, nor prone to playing subtle mind games. I told
him I wasn’t sure what I wanted for the future, but that I enjoyed
my work with Huriel, and that eventually I’d know what I wanted to
do with my life.


True, you have plenty of time,’ Malakess said. ‘You could
train to become a codexia or a hienama here, if you wish.’ He waved
an arm to indicate the entire room. ‘Look at this place. Nearly
everything in this house is old, and was built or devised by
humans. What will happen when it all wears out? Wraeththu need hara
with fine minds for the future. There is much we have to
accomplish.’


I know what you mean,’ I said, warming to the subject, since
it was something I’d often discussed with Rayzie. ‘For example,
every house has a clock, but do we have enough skilled clockmakers
to repair them or make new ones?’ I shrugged. ‘Clocks are just one
thing.’


Quite,’ said Malakess. ‘We want clocks but we don’t want
factories or intensive industry, but maybe there are some who do.’
He tapped his lips with the fingers of one hand, staring out of the
window. ‘What we have to decide is what is valid and useful, what
luxuries are reasonable, and how to manufacture things without
causing pollution or waste.’


It’s a very big task,’ I said.


That’s why I work with the Gelaming,’ Malakess said. ‘They
have their faults, but also their uses.’


Hmm…’


You should go to Immanion one day. You’d find it
interesting.’ He put his head to one side. ‘Where do you come
from?’


The Shadowvales, not far from Jesith. Our community is an
example of all that is best and worst about the Sulh.’

Malakess
laughed. ‘I have heard of it. I wouldn’t have said worst… why do
you say that?’

I
shrugged awkwardly. ‘Hara there don’t live in reality. They think
the world is a benevolent place, and when things don’t conform to
that idea, they ignore them.’


Perhaps they are simply trying to create a better reality by
living it.’

I laughed
harshly. ‘Perhaps.’ That pathetic ideal had ruined my life. I
wasn’t allowed to have horrors in my past. They had been ignored,
pushed away, so that they condensed deep inside me only to leak out
like poison.

There was
a silence, and I didn’t even notice it. Malakess broke it, softly.
‘What happened to you, Gesaril?’

I debated
whether to tell him. I’d kept silent in Jesith until it had been
too late. ‘When I was a young harling, some friends and I were
attacked by rogue hara. My parents…’ I shook my head. ‘They didn’t
know how to deal with it, so they thought it best to ignore
it.’


Were they ever caught, the attackers?’ Malakess asked
sharply.


No. They were long gone by the time I managed to get home. I
was lucky to survive. Others were taken, one killed.’


I’m… I’m very sorry to hear that,’ Malakess said. He paused.
‘Does Huriel know of this?’


Not yet,’ I said, sure that Malakess would tell
him.


Did you suffer any… lasting injuries?’


Yes,’ I said. ‘I think so. But more of the mind than the
body.’


Understandable,’ Malakess said. ‘Perfectly so. Is this what
caused your problem in Jesith?’


Yes and no… it was complicated.’


Do you want to talk about it?’


You said you didn’t want to know.’


It’s different now.’

I sighed.
‘No, I don’t want to talk about it. Thank you, but no.’ The only
har I’d ever talked to about it, apart from Huriel, was Jassenah,
of all hara; Ysobi’s chesnari. I’d thought him my worst enemy, but
he’d saved me in Jesith. Without him, I’d be dead. He’d chased my
phantoms away, the ones I’d dragged with me for many years. He’d
chased them away once Ysobi had abandoned me to myself. It is hard
to hate Jassenah now.


Take care with yourself,’ Malakess said gently. ‘Don’t keep
things inside that need to come out. I don’t wish to sound
patronising, but I am an ancient being in comparison to you, and
believe me I saw and experienced many hideous things in the early
days.’

I nodded.
‘I appreciate that.’


You know,’ Malakess said, ‘us incepted hara are completely
aware of what the pure born think of us. But one thing you should
consider: we at least have the experience of what it’s like to be
afraid, what it’s like to suffer pain and cruelty, to live on the
run, with no sanctuary, surrounded by those who can’t be trusted.
Sometimes, in some situations, we are the best hara to speak to. Do
you understand me?’


Utterly,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’ I wondered then what had
happened to him, once long ago.

So
despite my early misgivings, Huriel had in fact been right.
Malakess was a decent and wise har, and I’d ended up enjoying his
company. The more we’d talked, the less he’d discomforted me. Ysobi
will fade from him slowly; it’s an exorcism.

When I
finally left Malakess’s house, even the sky had cleared. I felt
surprisingly light of spirit and decided to wander into town for a
while. All around me, hara were going about their daily business. I
felt invisible among them. My feet led me to the markets and there
I browsed among the stalls. I walked down an aisle where everyhar
sold curios, human artefacts scavenged from the ruins of long dead
towns. Beyond this were merchants selling herbs and sachets, and
equipment for the occult arts. I paused to peruse the wares of a
young har who carved beautiful little boxes from various types of
wood.


Every one of them is different,’ he told me.

I nodded
and picked up one of the smallest boxes. This is the one, I
thought. ‘How much?’ I asked the vendor.


Three bits to you,’ he replied. It was ridiculously
cheap.

I smiled
charmingly. ‘Thank you.’ I nodded towards a treasure heap of
crystals that were strewn upon a cloth of black velvet on the
stall. ‘I’ll take a quartz also.’


You can have one for free,’ said the har. He grinned. ‘Don’t
take advantage. At least pick a small one.’

I laughed
and did so. It didn’t matter how big the stone was; this was only a
gesture. ‘Can you wrap it in something for me?’

The har
nodded. ‘It’s a gift, then?’


Yes. Yes it is.’

I watched
the har’s nimble brown fingers wrap up my purchase in what appeared
to be handmade paper dyed blue. He bound it with twine and handed
it to me. ‘Some har is lucky to be receiving a present from you,’
he said.


No, it is me who is lucky,’ I replied and gave him the money.
‘Thank you.’

After
this, I went to a café and ordered a mug of the locally brewed
cider. I asked the proprietor if he had writing implements, and he
gave me a pen and some ink. I sat outside in the garden at the back
of the café and wrote upon my parcel: Jassenah har Jesith, Lyonis.
I hoped I had just enough money left to send it to him.

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