The Inner Circle: The Gates of Hae'Evun

  'Seteal,' a lively female voice called when she went outside to empty the bucket. Pretending that she hadn't heard, Seteal hurried back to the door. 'Seteal,' the voice persisted, now to be accompanied by the sound of shoes tapping their way up the stairs.

  'What?' She turned to find two young women of similar age to herself making their way across the balcony.

  'You're back.' One of the girls giggled excitedly, sending her brunette ringlets bounced about her shoulders.

  'I'm sorry.' Seteal put a hand to her forehead. 'Do I know you?'

  'Seteal . . . it's us,' a tall blonde girl said with an expression of hurt.

  'Oh, of course,' Seteal mumbled. 'I have work to do, but thanks for stopping by.'

  The first girl spoke again. 'You don't have the faintest idea who we are, do you?'

  A bitter cackle made its way out of Seteal's chest as she stepped back inside. 'I don't even know who I am anymore,' she said and closed the door. Something about the women had been familiar, but Seteal couldn't think why. She refilled her bucket and got back to scrubbing.

  An hour or so later Seteal was still scrubbing, despite the fact that her brush had started falling apart. She looked up at the clock and realised with a jolt that the funeral was due to commence in less than half an hour. That was why those women had been all dressed up. She washed her hands and hurried up stairs. She was about to pull open her wardrobe, but her hand froze on the handle.

  The images carved into the surface of the doors leapt out at her like they never had before. Towering waves stood frozen in time over people fearlessly standing beneath them. On the other side, an image Seteal had always perceived as a ripple in the carved ocean now stood out quite clearly as an Elglair dome. Gifn had created an image of his memories of the Frozen Lands. The wardrobe had been Jil-e-an's before it was Seteal's. Gifn must have made it for her in an attempt to make her feel more at home. Seteal found herself having gained a new appreciation for her mother's pain and sense of isolation.

  She pulled open the door and dug about until she found the black dress she'd been wearing the day before. She yanked on the hanger, but it'd gotten caught and no matter how she tried, she couldn't get it free. Yelling furiously, Seteal pulled so violently that the rod snapped and her clothing fell out in a pile on top of her. She remained buried in the dark beneath a sea of dresses. She thought about getting up, but it was so peaceful within her cocoon of clothing.

  'Seteal,' one of the girls from earlier called from the bedroom door.

  'Go away.'

  'Listen, I don't know what happened to you out there,' she paused, 'or even what you might've done, but we were once best friends. So . . . so I'm going to help you get dressed.'

  Seteal's eyes burst open as memories came flooding back. 'Cindi?' she enquired, burrowing out of the pile.

  'What're you doing under all of that anyway?'

  'They fell out,' Seteal told her childhood friend, wiping at tears she hadn't realised were there. 'I can't get them untangled.'

  'Let me,' Cindi consoled, flicking back long blonde hair. A moment later she'd expertly unwoven the tangled coat hangers and pulled out a black dress. 'Come on, Set. Let's get you ready.'

  'We must be very late.' Seteal felt her chin quivering.

  'They can wait,' Cindi reassured her as she slid out of her dress and into the black one. 'Now let me do your makeup.'

  'Must you?' Seteal frowned, having never been terribly fond of the stuff.

  'I must.' Cindi had adopted an authoritative tone. She pulled out a small case and brush. 'Now hold still,' she murmured as she worked. 'So . . . I got engaged while you were away.'

  Seteal stared out the window and watched the trees swaying gently in the breeze. The sun was obscured by cloud and it looked about to rain. A familiar melancholy bird call outside told Seteal that Seeol was somewhere nearby. It didn't surprise her. Burden or friend, she'd never be free of her little monster.

  'Seteal,' Cindi reprimanded. 'You haven't heard a single word I've been saying, have you?'

  'Oh,' Seteal jolted. 'I'm sorry. My mind wandered.'

  'I can tell,' Cindi muttered, putting away the powder and then retrieving some eyeliner. 'What about you? Where have you really been? Did you find some secret girlfriend or something?'

  'Girlfriend?' Seteal's mind was filled with images of Master Fasil's grizzled face bouncing in and out of her vision as he forced himself into her, his expression feverish. She remembered the way the dirt felt as it grazed her flesh during the friction of the event. She remembered the feeling of blood trickling over her thighs. She remembered his fists pounding her face until she could no longer see through one of her eyes and her cheek had swollen up so badly that she couldn't eat thereafter. 'No . . . no girlfriend,' Seteal choked out.

  'Set,' Cindi said softly. 'I know about you, so . . . where did the baby come from?'

  'Let's go,' Seteal sobbed, pushing Cindi's hands out of her face, before turning to pick up her cloak. 'I have to go.'

  'I'm sorry,' Cindi said quickly. 'I didn't mean to--'

  'Let's just go!' Seteal wailed, pushing passed her friend and barging out of the room.

  She hurried downstairs as though she could escape the memories by doing so. Seteal crossed the living room with Cindi at her heels. She pushed through the front door and stepped down onto the dirt road.

  Like most places in Elmsville, the funeral home was only several doors away. Seteal went around the back of the building to find people had already been seated before a podium, the cemetery looming ominously behind it. Father Garren strode over and guided Seteal to a seat beside Cindi and their friend. It was Anna, she remembered.

  The eyes of the entire town bored into the back of Seteal's head. She could feel the questions and the gossip. Father Garren opened the service. He said a bunch of things about Maker and how Gifn had now joined him in the eternity of the Ways. There he would have peace. The specifics were lost on Seteal. She was distracted. Halfway through the service, a small bird landed atop the coffin and stared at Seteal knowingly. Seeol had come to give his condolences in his own peculiar way. He flicked his tail and made a few decidedly morbid sounds before fluttering back into the heights of a nearby tree. It was a small gesture, but coming from a night bird, it'd somehow meant a lot.

  Before Seteal had even realised the Father's absence, Mister Beura had taken the stand to recite a host of happy memories he'd shared with Gifn. He spoke about the early days when Mister Eltari and his lovely wife had first arrived in Elmsville. He spoke about how long it'd taken for the young couple to warm up to the rest of the village. He spoke about how proud Gifn had been of Seteal and what a great father he was, even after Jil-e-an's passing.

  Seteal stared in surprise when Cindi stood up and spoke a few words. She was sure her friend's speech would've been nice, but Seteal was unable to focus on it. Her thoughts drifted in and out like the tide . . . until they didn't. Words fell slowly from Cindi's lips, As they did thunder rumbled to match Seteal's horror. She watched her friend's mouth as she formed the sentence, 'And now Miss Eltari would like to come up and say a few words.'

  'What?' Seteal hissed, causing Cindi to hesitate halfway back to her seat. 'No,' she whispered and covered her face as though she could hide her entire self behind a single hand.

  The crowd of onlookers erupted into hushed whispers of suspicion. 'I knew she had something to do with it,' someone said nearby. 'She's always been peculiar,' another responded. 'Do you remember that time she said Mister Eltari would break his leg, and the very next day it happened.'

  'Enough!' Seteal leapt out of her chair and the crowd fell silent. She stepped forward and felt the leaf-litter crunch beneath her black shoe. She breathed. She took another step. Seteal twisted her head toward the looming trees above them and found the elf owl's eyes boring into hers. He bobbed his head rapidly in a show of support.

  Seteal found herself standing at the podium. 'I loved my father,' she said after a long shuddering breath. 'I
know it must seem strange that I've been away for so long and believe me I wish I could take it all back. I really do. But I loved my father.' Seteal covered her mouth with a hand that wouldn't stop shaking. 'He was the best friend I ever had. He'd have done anything for me.'

  'And he did,' snapped Seteal's old piano teacher as she rose furiously to her feet and stabbed her crooked finger through the air. 'He travelled across the world looking for you! He was convinced that you were dead, but now the truth comes out, doesn't it, Miss Eltari. You came back here with a child born out of wedlock, you little whore. She ran off with some boy,' the old woman addressed the people of Elmsville. 'You're all thinking it. She ran off with a boy and came back with her dead bastard when it all went wrong!'

  A sad smile slid across Seteal's features. At first she was hurt by the woman's comments, but all too soon she shook in fits of laughter. She abandoned the podium and strolled over to the old woman. 'Your imagination is so limited,' she growled when their faces were just handswidths apart. 'I promise you that whatever you're capable of imagining, I've done far worse than that.' She let the statement hang in the air before turning back to the crowd. 'Now, if you are all finished gossiping might we get back to my father's service?'

  The remainder of the funeral passed according to plan. Seteal's old piano teacher stared at her with pursed lips for the majority of the time, but she ignored the silly woman and farewelled her father with dignity. With what she'd put him through he deserved that much. When the service was over and the coffin had been lowered into a grave beside Seteal's mother, she wandered over to read the headstone for what felt like the thousandth time.

  Here lies Gifn Eltari

  1767AW to 1820AW

  A devoted father, loving husband and man of Maker.

  Farewell Gifn.

  Even through Seteal's glove, the headstone was cold to touch. 'I love you, Daddy,' she whispered.

  As the people of Elmsville mingled, Seteal made sure to hurry away before too many could offer their condolences. She didn't feel that she deserved them. The fruit tree beside the overgrown path north of Narvon Wood caught Seteal's eye and she made her way toward it. She and her friends had often played there as children.

  'Seteal,' Cindi called, hurrying up beside her. 'Where are you going?'

  'I need to clear my head,' she grumbled.

  'Okay.' Cindi smiled, continuing along beside her.

  'Alone.'

  'Oh,' Cindi murmured and stopped walking, only to grab Seteal's arm and pull her to a stop. 'Who's that?'

  'I have no idea.' She followed the girl's gaze toward the kel'ad fruit tree. Through the mist they were able to make out a dark silhouette. 'Excuse me?' Seteal called as she made long strides toward the stranger.

  The dark figure flared his wings. Cindi's face fell and she screamed loudly enough to catch the attention of everyone at the funeral. 'Run!'

  And Seteal did run. She ran toward the silt as he leapt into the air and swooped toward her. She felt the Ways churning around her legs and pouring through her muscles, her heart beating faster than a human's should. Her blood screamed by her ears as the silt came closer. Seteal slammed her foot into the earth so hard that the ground sank on impact. Her muscles contracted in such a way that they propelled her four strides into the air.

  The silt banked sharply, but Seteal grabbed his wing, spun him around and slammed him onto the ground. His eyes were wide with shock when she landed on his chest and wrapped her hand around his throat.

  'What are you?' He gagged.

  'This town, you cannot have,' Seteal hissed. The silt struggled in vain against the weight of the Ways. 'And here's a little message you can take back to your Devil.' Seteal pulled back her arm and clenched her fist. She felt the power burn through her bones until they were almost pushed to the point of breaking. She thrust her fist forward and beat the silt until he was bloodied and bruised. 'Now run away,' Seteal spat, climbing to her feet. The demon limped several steps before beating his wings and swooping woozily into the distance.

  When Seteal turned around she found the entire town watching her with expressions of fear. Cindi dropped the small bag she'd been carrying and hurried back to the perceived safety of the crowd. Seteal wiped the back of her hand across her nose and stared at them in disdain. 'What?' She threw out her arms. 'What?' She challenged, but of course, no one said a word. 'To torrid with the lot of you.'

 

  Psalm 88

  1. Oh Lord Maker of my salvation, I have cried day and night before Thee.

  2. Let my prayer come before Thee; incline Thine ear unto my cry.

  3. For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draweth nigh unto the grave.

  4-5. I am counted with them that go down into the torrid pit; I am as a man that hath no strength, cast among the dead like the slain that lie in the grave, whom Thou rememberest no more, and who are cut off from Thy hand.

  6. Thou hast laid me in the lowest pit, in darkness, in the deeps.

  7. Thy wrath lieth hard upon me, and Thou hast afflicted me with all Thy woes.

  8-9. Thou hast put away mine acquaintances far from me; Thou hast made me an abomination unto them. I am shut up, and I cannot come forth; mine eye mourneth by reason of affliction. Lord, I have called daily upon Thee; I have stretched out my hands unto Thee.

  10. Wilt Thou show wonders to the dead? Shall the dead arise and praise Thee?

  11. Shall Thy loving kindness be declared in the grave? Or Thy faithfulness in destruction?

  12. Shall Thy wonders be known in the dark? And Thy righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?

  13. But unto Thee have I cried, O Lord, and in the morning shall my prayer come before Thee.

  14. Lord, why castest Thou off my soul? Why hidest Thou Thy face from me?

  15. I am afflicted and ready to die from my youth up; while I suffer Thy terrors I am distraught.

  16. Thy fierce wrath goeth over me; Thy terrors have cut me off.

  17. They came round about me daily like water; they compassed me about together.

  18. Lover and friend hast Thou put far from me, and mine acquaintances into the dark.

  Scriptures of the Holy Tome

 

  CHAPTER Nine

  He is a terrible human

  The tree--black from its roots up to its leaves--stretched away from the earth and emitted a foreboding energy. The tree was cruel. Even from the edge of the clearing, Seeol's head felt like it might pop. He wondered how he could've ever tolerated the place long enough to go from hatchling to maturity. There was not a single other animal or even insect in sight. Nobody wanted to go anywhere near Seeol's birth place.

  Ignoring the pain, he flew up and landed on one of the branches. Beneath his talons, the bark was as cold as ice and unaffected by the wind. Seeol felt weak and sick, much like he had after bleeding too much in Beldin. Hurriedly abandoning his perch, he flew back toward Elmsville. The pain subsided and he was able to think clearly.

  The moon was bright, but there wasn't much in the way of food. Seeol had hoped to find some in Narvon Wood, but the black tree had done everything it could to scare the insects away. He landed in the tree from which he'd observed Gifn's service earlier that day. Poor Seteal. She really had been through too much for one lifetime. Seeol hoped dearly that his friend would find some peace now that she was home.

  Skittish movement caught Seeol's attention and he snapped his head around to find a young man with curly blond hair sneaking around the side of someone's house. It was Jakob, that terrible man who'd nearly gotten El-i-miir killed. 'Hey!' Seeol called before landing on a branch that was about level with the man's eyes.

  Jakob looked about in every direction, his expression one of confusion. 'Who's there?'

  'It's me,' Seeol replied.

  'What the torrid?' Jakob said, squinting through the dark, reminding Seeol of just how terribly inefficient human vision was. 'Oh . . . the talking bird. Seteal's pet.' He shook his head and continued around th
e building.'

  'Is not a pet!' Seeol flew for his head, landed among the ringlets and bit his ear violently.

  'Ouch!' Jakob battered Seeol away and rubbed the side of his head.

  'What is you doing in this Elmsvillage,' Seeol demanded. 'You is a terrible human and might hurt some good friends.'

  'Shoo,' Jakob flicked his fingers out at Seeol. 'Buzz off.'

  'I am not delighted to wake up Seteal because she is having sleepy times for the first times in a long times.' Seeol stalled, momentarily confused by the number of times he'd used the same word, before continuing once he was sure he'd made sense. 'But I will tickle and scratch her awake if you don't tell me what silly jobs you're playing at.'

  'Look.' Jakob raised his hands irritably. 'I don't want any trouble, you annoying little freak, I just need to know where Ilgrin is. Don't tell him, though. We'll make a little game out of it okay?'

  'Why?'

  'Because . . . I'm throwing him a surprise party,' Jakob replied in frustration.

  'That is uncharacterably nice,' Seeol mused suspiciously, 'But Ilgy isn't hither. He is thither.'

  'What does that even mean!?' Jakob cried, before quickly lowering his voice. 'Do you ever make sense?'