This was far from the old rag Rinawne had implied it was.
‘It gives off a powerful light,’ Peredur said, reaching out to touch it, ‘like starlight, somewhat cold, but pure.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Arianne said. ‘You can see it’s very old, and yet still so strong.’
The shawl was delicate, finer than I’d imagined. White as the moon, tender as moonbeams. Somehar had once taken great care to weave this. When Myv spread it out over the table, I could see the shape of owls within its lacy pattern. Its fringes were long, like hair. I asked Myv if he knew who’d made it. He shook his head. ‘No... some har in Gwyllion. I don’t think he’s around anymore.’
I didn’t think he was either. I did wonder then exactly who had made this magical shawl.
‘I’ll take this with me at Reaptide,’ Myv said, stroking the fabric. ‘It feels right to do so.’
‘Yes,’ Peredur agreed, running his hands beside Myv’s. Occasionally, their fingers interlaced. ‘This old shawl is as much a part of our task as you or I.’
Later that day, I asked Arianne if I might speak with her privately. She behaved as if she was simply a part of Myv’s family, who’d always been with us and always would be. I was mindful of what both Peredur and Nytethorne had said about this, and knew Arianne must think the same. I suspected she and Peredur had discussed it. With the rest of us, she simply kept her fears hidden. Perhaps also she harboured the hope her kin were wrong and she’d walk from our task tonight free to remain among us. I knew in my heart that hope was futile, and if she held on to it, this was a weakness within our circle. She had to face reality, such as it was. I had to be sure about her.
I took her up to my nayati, where we generally held our meditations. She sat on the rug in front of me and said, ‘What is it you want to say, Ysobi?’ There was a challenge in her voice.
I reached out and took her hands, stroked the backs of them with my thumbs. ‘Ari, you are a gift to us, and I believe you were sent to help right the wrongs of the past, but you being here, arriving the way you did... I think that is merely part of the strangeness we’re living through now. I don’t believe this will extend beyond Reaptide.’
She looked down at the carpet, nodded. ‘I know that. I give thanks for every second I spend with my family.’ She looked up at me. ‘If I am a gift to you, then knowing that Peri lives, and is loved, that Medoc lives on and thrives, and that I’ve been allowed to meet Kinnard’s grandson, are far greater gifts to me. If I am the sacrifice, then I’m prepared. I’ve been given this astounding second human life, however brief, and am willing to pay for it.’
I leaned forward to embrace her. She shuddered a little, but there were no tears. She pulled back from me, dry-eyed, although she kept hold of my hands. ‘Thank you, Ysobi, for what you did, giving me this chance to see the future of my family. Wherever I go next, I’ll move forward knowing they will carry on.’ She drew in a breath. ‘My task is to reach Vivi and convince her of this, too.’
I grimaced. ‘I’ve met her – what remains of her. You’ll have your work cut out. But yes, I think that is your task.’
She squeezed my fingers. ‘We face a time of endings and beginnings, and this must include yours as well.’
I raised my eyebrows at her.
‘Oh, come now, don’t give me that look. I see the walls in you, with bricks of grief and cement of sorrow. You think you’re tough, and you are, but perhaps it’s time for you to start knocking down those walls.’
I laughed uncertainly. ‘The walls are there for a reason, Ari. I’ve made many mistakes in my life. As Vivi has had to be contained, so certain parts of me must be contained too.’
Arianne put her head to one side, smiled quizzically. ‘Yet here we are, attempting to free her. Doesn’t that say something to you?’
I shrugged.
‘Just don’t miss the opportunities when they come,’ Arianne said. ‘Promise me that.’
‘OK.’
‘And mean it.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh well, I’ve said what I wanted to say.’ She shook my hands a little. ‘You will always be my beautiful friend, Ysobi, the woman I never had close to me in the past. I always wanted a friend like you, and to enjoy such a friendship, freely, experiencing all the good little things of life, but circumstances took that from us. I never knew a world free from turmoil and terror. You have that now. Please take all its bounties, if only for me.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
‘You better!’ She let go of me and stood up. ‘I feel like making a cake, a very big one.’
She left the room ahead of me. I sat there for some minutes, thinking of nothing.
The day before Reaptide eve, I decided to give Wyva a last chance and went to visit him. We had plans to finalise for the Wyvachi festival, which really I couldn’t concentrate upon. I was relieved I’d written it so swiftly after Cuttingtide, because my priorities were far from cheerful communal events at that time. Myv and Rinawne would not visit Dŵr Alarch again before tomorrow.
I found Wyva out in the stableyard – his favourite horse had gone lame inexplicably. At once, I offered my help and went into the relative cool of the stable to give the animal some healing. Wyva stood at my shoulder as I crouched with my hands on the horse’s leg. I could feel he was tense, like a strand of wire pulled thin. ‘Any more incidents?’ I asked him
‘No... not really. The weather will break after Reaptide, and so will this strange... atmosphere in the land.’ He laughed unconvincingly. ‘It’s traditional in this place.’
I glanced over my shoulder at him. ‘Is it?’
‘When the weather’s so hot and close, animals and crops get sick. Verdiferel plays his tricks.’
As if to punctuate this observation, several slates fell from the stable roof into the yard, where they smashed loudly. Wyva sighed. ‘The heat,’ he said.
A thin scream came from the kitchens.
‘Wyva...’ I wanted to tell him then, all that I knew, all that we must do, but he must’ve sensed this because he said, ‘I’d better see what that was,’ and hurried away. I smoothed the horse’s leg, rested my forehead briefly against it. Tonight was the last night. Tomorrow at midnight, we would symbolically take up arms, such as we had. The Wyvachi festival seemed like a harling’s dream. How could it be possible?
I didn’t bother to stay and talk with Wyva further, because I knew it was pointless. To keep my mind from the challenge ahead, I rode into Gwyllion, visited The Boar for lunch, wondering if it was the last time I’d do so. After this, I rode round the sites that were now familiar to me, that I loved. I drank from the Pwll Siôl Lleuad. I sat by the riverside and dangled my feet in the cool water, then lay back on the grass. I felt melancholy, tired, fired up, hopeful...
Arianne had cooked us dinner again; she adored cooking. I was surprised and pleased to discover that she and Peredur had spent the afternoon in the forest around the foot of Dŵr Alarch. Peredur had been right. In his company, his mother could leave the tower.
‘I saw a little of the land,’ Arianne said to me. ‘If anything, it’s more beautiful than I remember but of course it’s a new land really.’
‘How did it happen... Peri taking you outside?’ I wondered whether there had been any difficulty.
‘He simply held out his hand to me and said “Come on, it’s time”, and the next thing I knew I was downstairs and the door was open and...’ She clutched herself for a moment. ‘The sky was white, the light like a trumpet. And the smells... Overwhelming. I can only say it was like stepping out of a spaceship onto a planet that wasn’t Earth, but was very like it. A planet more intense to the senses.’ She shrugged. ‘More than that. Can’t explain.’
‘Were you afraid?’ I asked gently, my own skin shivering at the image she’d conjured.
‘Yes, because if I couldn’t take that step over the threshold, what would we do? But there was Peri before me, my beautiful son, holding on to my hand, so I stepped into this new world, and I could wal
k in it.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘Perhaps that is what death will be like.’
I hugged her then, unable to speak. I thought of the terrible love between her and Peredur, the sky of sadness. And yet in this strange dream of summer heat and madness, they could meet and hold one another, if only for a short time.
Nytethorne showed up as we’d finished eating; this was not planned. He seemed odd, as if slightly drunk, being somewhat more demonstrative than I’d seen him before. He hugged Peredur, then Arianne, then stood behind me to run his hands swiftly through my hair. I felt distinctly uncomfortable. Why had he come here?
Peredur and Arianne retired early, before midnight. I sat with Nytethorne in the kitchen. ‘So here we are, Ysobi,’ he said, into the silence our companions had left.
‘For the time being, yes.’ I didn’t want to talk about our task anymore, because we’d said everything. I wanted to be alone to prepare myself for tomorrow. There was nothing beyond that.
‘So tonight I’ll be staying here.’
I had been staring at my laced hands. My head jerked up. ‘What?’
‘You heard. Don’t need to say why.’
‘You do! Why? The boundaries are clear between us. The beds are all taken. Go home and sleep well so you’re properly rested for...’
‘I meant in your bed.’
My surprise was genuine. Nytethorne had said no to me in creative ways; he’d meant it. We’d said no to each other. ‘This is an immense change of mind. Do I get a say in it?’ Even as I spoke I was wondering whether in fact he meant simply he would sleep beside me for the night.
He smiled. ‘No, you’re limp as a cut reed. You need it.’
‘But...’
‘Don’t know the outcome for tomorrow, do we? Ancient concept. Don’t die with regrets for things undone.’
‘I don’t intend to die.’
He shrugged. ‘There are different deaths. This is our moment. We must take it.’ He stood up. ‘Think, if you must, to remember who you are, then join me.’ He left the room.
Whether I decided to go along with this or not, one thing was certain. He’d already claimed the remaining free bed. The worst aspect was that I couldn’t drink alcohol to deal with this. My mind had to be absolutely clear tomorrow and no matter how good the harish body is at clearing up after its owner’s worst lapses, traces remain. I’ll have a drink of water to fortify myself doesn’t work that well. Down at Ludda’s farm, a single hound yelped, as if in pain.
When I stood up, a rush of images raced across my mind: Jassenah, Gesaril, all those who’d come before them. A series of impulses that hadn’t been left undone and which I regretted bitterly. Yet what else was I to do? Any other har would have been upstairs already, seeking solace, comfort, strength. This was what we were supposed to do. Yet all I could see was a potential mess because I couldn’t trust the feeling of really liking somehar. I was afraid I’d go back to that dark, fevered place where my love for Gesaril had sent me. Nytethorne was right; there were different deaths. Rinawne hadn’t done as much to bring me back as he’d thought.
Just do it, I told myself, just focus on the physical and do it.
It was an insane notion I’d considered myself healed.
So I went upstairs like a har condemned and there was this new nemesis spread out over my bed in a tangle of hair and lean lithe limbs. ‘Come here, but take off the noose and leave it by the door,’ this vision said.
I wished I could be like him. He’d thought about us and had come to a decision and was now utterly sure about it. ‘There are things you should know,’ I said.
‘Don’t care,’ he replied. ‘Better leave your brain by the door too.’
I went to him and lay down, put my head on his breast. He held me close and stroked my hair. We didn’t say anything. I surrendered myself; simply that. Let what must happen happen.
There came the moment before, after which everything must change, and it was a lifetime and yet a nanosecond. He moved in me slowly, so that trails of stars ignited throughout my body, until it seemed each cell must explode, and the tower would be punched open above us, and a new tower of light would reach towards the skies, which would be all that was left of us, straining to join the stars. But I didn’t spontaneously combust and neither did he. The pulse of the arunic tide began to ebb and my body settled. I wasn’t changed forever, only left with a burning thirst.
Nytethorne fetched us berry cordial from the kitchen. ‘Wanted to give you something you’d not quickly forget,’ he said.
I drank the juice. That was a game that more than one could play. I’d show him... soon.
He watched me as I finished my drink. ‘You let nohar in. Has it always been like that? I heard aruna was your speciality, some kind of magic.’
‘Who did you hear that from?’
He shrugged. ‘Mossamber has friends. He asked.’
‘Friends in Kyme? Where?’
‘Not sure,’ Nytethorne said, ‘he has friends everywhere.’
I think I knew then: Malakess. Mossamber had contacted him about me.
‘Well, whatever he think he knows, whatever he’s heard I am or was, you don’t have to be emotionally enlightened to tweak the nerves of the body. It’s mechanical, and not hard to master.’
Nytethorne shook his head, smiled to himself. ‘Somehar has much to answer for.’
‘I have let hara in,’ I said. ‘All it ever brought was trouble. Some are made for it, but not me. I just ruin things. Somehar once said to me I wasn’t supposed to have a cosy life with chesnari and harlings — and he was right.’
I didn’t want to speak like this, hard and cold, but was unable to change it. I wanted to tell Nytethorne he was amazing, and I would like more than anything for it be different with us, for it to work. But no. I had to change the subject. ‘Never mind that. Who’s your father, Nytethorne?’
He studied me for a moment. ‘You really want to know?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right. Know you like stories.’ He lay back down beside me and drew me into his arms. Our bodies seemed to fit together like a timber joint. ‘Mossamber and Peredur could have no sons, but they wanted them. Mossamber wanted nohar but Peri, didn’t want to go to a blessed place with some other har, so they called upon the Gwerin Crwydrwyr, the roamer folk.’
‘And who are they?’
He told me that in the early days of Wraeththu in this land, the Gwerin Crwydrwyr were hara unthrist, without tribe, drawn to the most shamanic of paths. They scorned physical conflict and all they deemed human in hara. Everyhar used them for various purposes – healing, teaching, and the creation of harlings. I’d not known this, but roamers were among the first to enable this function among the Sulh. For a price, they would give hara a son. Nytethorne thought they probably still would, although they weren’t seen around so much nowadays, just occasionally at some of the fayres.
‘Mossamber never knew his name,’ Nytethorne said. ‘Was with him only an hour. In that time, he grew older in mind and heart, and came away from it with me in him.’
Three years later, Mossamber again called upon the services of the Gwerin Crwydrwyr and the result of that was Emberflax, Nytethorne’s brother who I’d not yet met.
‘We call him Flax,’ Nytethorne told me.
‘Your son is named for him?’
Nytethorne shook his head. ‘Partly. His full name is Emberstrife.’
‘And Ember’s father?’
Nytethorne was silent for a moment, stroking my back. Then he said, ‘A roamer. After Porter – way I wanted it.’
‘You are a fecund tribe, it seems! Why two sons?’
‘We know the secret, that’s all. Our custom is to have two sons. We are many at the Domain: hara who were Mossamber’s human hura...’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Had names for it, can’t remember.’
‘Nephews, uncles, I think you mean.’
He nodded. ‘Mossamber’s father took them in during the Devastation. Whitemanes survived better than the
Wyverns.’
‘Medoc isn’t doing too badly.’
‘He’s sensible. He fled. No longer part of this.’ With these words, Nytethorne silenced anything further I might say with a kiss. ‘Enough of stories,’ he said. ‘Let me in, Ysobi. Think you can heal the world? Well, I can heal you.’
I put my hands on his beautiful face. ‘You can’t give Peredur new eyes. You can’t give me a new heart.’
‘If Peri only had broken eyes, they might be mended. You can’t say you have no heart. Be brave enough to trust. Not yourself. Me. Won’t fall. I’ll catch you.’ He kissed me again. ‘Begin with the breath.’
I had never realised before how little I let go during aruna. Not even with those I thought I’d loved had I ever truly opened the doors to my inner self and allowed them to walk around looking at the things that were me, my history. I think some had seen me as a challenge because I was so closed and distant. Everyhar believes he can break down the doors of the ice tower, find the living warmth hidden within. I’d never let them, because I’d never faced how incomplete I was. Something old and dank lurked within me. Eyes across a fire, all I ever remembered. And yet, now, as I lay in Nytethorne’s arms I realised this inability to truly connect was my greatest weakness, and if the ysbryd drwg was to find a chink in my armour, this was it. The missing piece. I opened myself to Nytethorne Whitemane.
I didn’t find it easy. Even opening the breath was difficult, because so much can be revealed in that – the first sign of trust between two hara coming together. His breath was a storm, blowing through me, breaking barriers. My instinct was to resist, shutter all doors, batten down, but behind one of those doors, like those of an immense old barn, horror lurked. We could both feel it there, hear it yelping, biting its own limbs. Nytethorne pulled away from me. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but bear in mind tomorrow you might have no hienama to aid you.’
‘Will take that risk.’
Having opened the portals of my mind and body through breath, all other sensations beyond that were symbolic, often bizarre. I could see Nytethorne as a warrior riding a chariot drawn by maddened horses with forked tongues. The chariot thundered through me, into my history, into battle.