Tyler's Dream (19 page)

Tyler gave one fervent slurp at his own tea to finish it.

“Now, quietly,” Haranio quipped with a sudden conspiratorial tone. “Let us go somewhere where we can be assured of some real privacy.”

That “somewhere” turned out to be
The Albatross’s Wing
. Haranio opened a hatch that led onto the roof, and then the five of them carefully crept across several blocks, weaving between the crumbling chimney stacks until they reached a ladder to the ground.
The Albatross’s Wing
was being watched over by one guard, down from the original ten. This fellow was sound asleep on a stool that had been set out for him, and he didn’t so much as bat an eyelid as they stole quietly past.

Once aboard, Irrian decided the dining room would be the best place to talk. It was comparable to
The Eye of the World’s
in size, was similarly cosy, and was cluttered with paintings. Like every room in the ship, it was ill-equipped with windows, but it was quite dark outside by now, and so this hardly mattered.

Irrian dismissed Singrid and Ellior, telling them to find Varkon. It was then that they encountered their first bit of trouble: on spotting Haranio, the ghatu bounded the massive table in one terrifying leap. He would surely have torn Haranio’s head from the rest of his body if it weren’t for Tyler and Irrian’s panicked efforts to restrain him. Only once the day’s strange events had been fully explained did the ghatu begin to relax. Still, he refused to sit and instead stood broodingly to one side, arms folded and brow leaden.

“Now,” began Haranio with complete serenity, as though being attacked by a four-hundred-pound monster was as trivial an event as any he had seen thus far today. “It is nearly time to speak plainly.” Tyler’s skin prickled in anticipation, and a set of invisible fingers seemed to be drumming their long nails against his skin impatiently. He had been waiting for this day for a long time. “But first, I want to prove to you beyond all doubt that I can be trusted. Your anger towards me is quite justified, Varkon, given the circumstances.” Haranio nodded towards the lumbering ghatu. “However, I want to
completely
ease your minds. You have to trust me – and I you.”

Tyler, Irrian, and Varkon waited to see where Haranio was going with this. Tyler nervously chewed on his thumbnail.

Haranio smiled. “Did you ever think that this shamif you’ve been travelling with could change into other shapes besides that of an animal?” Tyler stopped biting at his nail and stared. “A shamif can take the shape of anything –
anything,
be it a chair, stone, tree … or human. Did you not find it suspicious, if I am correct in interpreting your tale, that this other Haranio would always ensure he had some time to himself during the night, and even withdraw completely when he could? Why do you think that would be?” Haranio raised an eyebrow with expectation.

“
Of course!
” Tyler slapped the table with the obviousness of it all. “A shamif cannot maintain a foreign shape for a long period of time! That was why the old Haranio completely transformed into a snow lion, because he did not stay in touch with his real self. But that means …”

“This impostor was mimicking
my
shape,” finished Haranio darkly. “Thus, each and every day he had to make sure he found the time, the privacy, to change back to his original form. If he had not, he would have lost his true mind to my persona. I think you said, Tyler, that by the end of the journey, the shamif kept mostly to his cabin?”

Tyler nodded excitedly, although he felt rather shaken to be informed of such a conspiracy of identity, to be informed of the true character of a person he had trusted almost entirely.

“Obviously he was growing ever more uncomfortable maintaining my shape,” Haranio continued, “so larger amounts of his time had to be spent in recovery. I think if the cabin door on
The Eye of the World
had been forced open, you would have seen a very different person occupying his room.”

“But who was this person, and what did he want?” asked Irrian. “He had the chance to kill both Tyler and Varkon many times. Why wait until the last moment to do so?”

“I haven’t the faintest clue, Irrian,” replied Haranio. “Who this man was, what he wanted, and why, I can only guess at.”

Irrian shook his head in amazement. “And yet didn’t you say that it takes
years
to master a particular shape? Whoever it was must have known you extremely well, must have studied you carefully on many occasions.”

“All very true, Ravenfeeder …” For a moment Haranio mused quietly to himself. “The impostor must have spent a great deal of time with me. A shamif must observe the shape they are mimicking in all its detail, know it as well as he knows his own body. But as I said before, I was under the impression that I had never
met
a shamif. Obviously I am mistaken.” The old magi sighed and sank further into his uncomfortable chair. “From your story, I would imagine that this impostor was undecided about what he should do for most of the time. He did not expect to come to your village when the Dhimori was attacking it, and he certainly did not expect that Avalon’s Blessing had already been given to you, Tyler. These unexpected events confused his original purpose, which was most probably to confront Hargill in my form and attempt to steal the Heart. When his original purpose was no longer possible, perhaps he decided to play the charade of a fake Haranio and travel with you until he reached a decision.”

“So what made him suddenly decide to kill me on the ship?” wondered Tyler.

“Who can say if the constant pressure of maintaining my shape drove him to madness, or if there was some other, more subtle reason? Whatever the case, he must have known it was imperative to act before you arrived in Ithrim, where you would find me, and his little game would be up.”

“I had the lowest opinion of that
mukwa
,” growled Varkon for the first time from his corner. “From the moment I met him to the moment I ended his miserable life. Your theory makes sense, except one detail. Why he did he change into
your
shape in the first place? He could have convinced Tyler and myself just as easily in his own form that he was Haranio and was an old friend of Hargill.”

“Was he sure he could?” asked Haranio. “For all he knew, Hargill had spoken about me at length. Thus, he had to assume my exact physical representation.”

“Then why did he never claim to be a magi?” put in Irrian. “If he was concerned that Tyler might possibly know all about you, surely he should have pretended that as well?”

“Perhaps he discovered that Tyler knew nothing about me, and he decided not to. Why pretend when there is no need? What is of more concern is that he seemed to know so much about me. That my life could be so infiltrated …” Haranio shook his head. “It is far harder to become a human than any other shape, because human expressions are so complex. You are sure this impostor looked
exactly
as you see me now, before you?”

Tyler exchanged glances with Irrian and Varkon before he replied. “Every twitch and scowl, every twinkle of an eye …” He trailed off in sudden realisation. “Wait! The Haranio that we knew – his eyes were
brown
. I remember his eyes remained the same colour whatever shape he became. I always found it extremely off-putting.”

“Now
that’s
interesting,” said Haranio with an admiring nod. “Are you certain, Tyler?”

“Yes. The only time the shamif’s eyes were different, yellow, was when he lost his identity to his snow lion shape.”

“And by that stage he was essentially a wild lion and had entirely transformed, body and mind,” mused Haranio. “Hmm, well thanks to Tyler, I think we can take it that a shamif is unable to change his eyes. That will be a useful way to spot him when he next appears.”

“When he
next
appears?” exclaimed Irrian. “You speak as though you think he is still alive, but Varkon threw him out into the ocean. It was many leagues to any piece of land.”

Tyler looked up and nodded in agreement, only to be met with Haranio’s frown.

“I would guess – in fact I am almost certain – that we shall see this shamif again. You say you threw him into the sea. So? What happens if he could take the shape of a fish, or a bird?” Tyler bowed his head in worried admission, and Haranio continued. “We don’t know his motives or what he is capable of. He succeeded in fooling you all of his identity for several months – no easy feat indeed. So yes, unfortunately I believe we shall see him again, but next time he will be resolute and vengeful.”

There was a pause after Haranio’s warning. Tyler gazed at one of the dancing candle flames, lost in thought. Perhaps even now, on this moonless night, the shamif was flicking his fins through the sea or flapping through the clouds to Ithrim. He could already be here …

“Well, I would say that’s settled, wouldn’t you?” prompted Haranio. The room remained silent. “Moving onto other matters. I think that tonight I’m not the only person who must explain themselves.” Tyler glanced up with surprise. “I had to make sure with my own eyes,” continued Haranio, who had fixed his intense gaze on Varkon. “For I have given the Lingiun pebble to a ghatu before, but he was not nearly as bright or articulate as you, Varkon. Also, from what I hear you are quite the formidable warrior compared to your ghatu brethren? I think you should explain to the rest who you
really
are.”

Tyler turned to Varkon with wide eyes. The ghatu was such a close friend of his. Now, if he had been lying about something all this time …

Varkon smiled wryly. “Very well, Haranio. I see that you can read ghatuan. Was it this symbol that gave it away?” He tapped the crescent tattoo on his cheek that Tyler had often noticed. “The mark is only half complete; it means nothing in ghatuan at the present. Only once another symbol is etched across it – a red line – does it complete an ancient rune – it means Sa-Tsu.”

“I remember the fat Sa-Tsu on Mount Natsa,” said Tyler. “He had a mark just like it. What does this mean? You are a son of a Sa-Tsu?”

Varkon nodded. “One of eleven. Throughout my life I have competed with my brothers and sisters to be named leader of our tribe. Sometimes we are forced to duel, or we’re sent on quests to prove or worth, whilst all the while we are given the finest education possible. A Sa-Tsu must lead his army; he cannot be a fool. A Sa-Tsu must fight for power; he cannot be untrained.”

“When you were captured by Innor and his men,” said Tyler as he felt the mystery begin to wash clear in his mind, “were you were on one of these quests to prove yourself?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Although interesting, I don’t see why is this important,” said Tyler. “Why does it matter if Varkon is Sa-Tsu-to-be?”

“I am afraid it is, Tyler,” said Haranio gravely. “In Varkon’s
Ruilk
he swore that he would protect you until you reached Ithrim. Tyler,
you are here
. Varkon has every right to go back to his own kind now. You see, what I’m about to tell you is very secret business. Varkon could listen to what I have to say and then travel to the Grey Lands, where his position would give him access to the ear of the Dhimori, just as his position most likely granted him easy access to the Sa-Tsu at Mount Natsa. His reward for spilling my secrets would most probably earn him his red line. He would become a Sa-Tsu.”

It was a horrid thought. For some reason Tyler had thought that Varkon would always stay with him. The ghatu had become his protector, the one who had saved his life a dozen times, and – dare he say it – become his friend. It was difficult to remember that Varkon was on the enemy’s side.

“What Haranio says is true,” rumbled Varkon slowly. “I could listen to what you have to say, and then, released of my
Ruilk
, I could travel the Grey Lands and tell Her or Her Dhimori. There is no ignoring the fact that the boy offers me an undeniable chance of … promotion. I’ll admit the thought has crossed my mind before. Indeed, how could it not? From the beginning, from the moment I saw how much the Dhimori wanted Tyler, I have considered the ways I could benefit. But events have not played out as I expected.” Varkon looked away from Tyler. “I grew to like the boy. When I betrayed my own kind at Mount Natsa, that was the turning point for me. That day I put my own kind second and Tyler first.” Varkon sucked in a steadying breath. “I would rather stay here and look after the boy. This has become my place in life.”

Varkon was obviously extremely embarrassed to talk like this, but Tyler was filled with such happiness like he had not felt in a long while.

“Never before have I heard of such a strange friendship,” said Haranio with amazement. “A human and a ghatu? Why, if you two can get along, maybe there is hope for us all! But remember, Varkon,
this is your last chance
. You may go freely now, but after I have my say, you will be trapped, forced to stay here forever, whether you like it or not.”

Varkon did not hesitate. “I understand. My life is tied to the boy now. If you wish, I will gladly swear a
Ruilk
to show—”

“There is no need,” cut in Tyler. “Varkon has proved his loyalty to me more than anyone else in the world. He will not betray us.”

“So be it!” said Haranio. “Now, let me start by saying that this will be the first time in many, many years that I have revealed this information to anyone. If you tell others about my involvement in these matters, I will almost assuredly be killed for my supposed treachery. Thus, I implore you all to be careful if you should find the need to repeat this.” Haranio gave a hardened, warning glance around the room before he began. “Not much is known of Avalon the man, but man he was, and a great magi also. He was slain in the Last Battle, to the great loss of the Alliance, for he had been the most effective figure in the war against Her. Just before he was killed, Avalon gave a precious artefact, which later became known as Avalon’s Heart, to the nÿmph Lamathil of the Sunbirch. Avalon forced him to memorise the words that must be said to open it. Those words are a secret that have been passed down by every guardian of Avalon’s Blessing, starting with Lamathil of the Sunbirch, who was the first. I am
extremely
concerned that the shamif knew the words to this poem, as it was a well-kept secret indeed, but I shan’t dwell on this now. With time Avalon’s Heart became legend, and then myth. Although some lost faith in its qualities, the artefact remained a powerful political weapon: whoever received the blessing would gain many believers and unquestioning support. There were several attempts to steal it, but every one of them failed – until the day that Hargill became its guardian. It was then that the greatest attempted theft of the Heart took place. Hargill nearly lost it, but fortunately the Heart was finally recovered, found in an obsolete room in the guard building, held in the mouth of a small white dog.”