Eventually, he drew away from me. ‘Let’s go to a fish restaurant. The Shadowvales is renowned for them. Let’s dine like kings and then go to bed. If you wish, I can attempt to take you to realms undreamed of, or we can just sleep. Your choice.’
I laughed. ‘Let’s just start with the food.’
We drank a lot of the local ale with the meal, which had the effect of loosening my tongue. I told Zehn my suspicions that Gesaril might have tried to attack me psychically. I also told him about my majhahn with Sinnar. ‘He thought the same,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t imagining it. I know you don’t want justifications for He Who Must Not Be Named At The Moment, but I wonder whether the little shit’s been screwing with our minds magically.’
Zehn rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, come off it, Jass. He’s hardly more than a harling. How could he have such power? Even if he could affect you, which I doubt, there’s no way he could affect His Eminence, the Fuckwit.’
‘I want to believe that,’ I said. ‘I really do, but the emotions of the young can be very intense. Maybe that’s enough of a battery to provide the power.’
Zehn considered my words, ducked his head. ‘There is that, I suppose.’ He grinned. ‘Then fight fire with fire. Smite the little shit!’
I was silent for a moment. ‘Would you do majhahn with me?’
He watched me carefully and did not smile. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I was joking.’
‘No you weren’t. Just for a moment, you weren’t.’
Zehn took my hands. ‘I don’t think you should do anything like that. If Fuckwit wants the little shit, I think you should let them have each other. Be bigger than that, Jass.’ He squeezed my fingers. ‘Please.’
I sighed through my nose, dropped my head. ‘OK.’
We left the restaurant and walked out into the spicy cold of a Shadowvales spring night. We walked beyond the harbour and listened to the clean white waves smashing against the ancient rocks. We held hands, and I was filled with a wistful kind of melancholy. The sea went on forever. It was the most beautiful thing; primal and powerful.
Around midnight, we ambled back to our inn room. Zehn bought a flagon of heather wine from the bar, which was just closing. When we’d arrived, we’d taken only one room, because despite nothing being said, we’d both taken it for granted we would not sleep separately that night. Like Zehn, I was in two minds, but the combination of grief, ale, wine and the simple need for aruna shouldered aside all sensible caution. We sat in the dark, drinking the wine and talking amiably the unfettered gibberish of the drunken. The innkeepers had thoughtfully lit a fire in our room, so the darkness was tinged with warm hues.
At one point, Zehn took my wine cup off me and pressed me back on the bed to share breath. His mouth was warm and relaxed and smelled of wine. He put a hand inside my shirt. It occurred to me then that I hadn’t been soume since Zeph’s pearl had dropped. Letting Zehn be the first seemed a significant act, something that properly belonged to Ysobi. He wanted to be ouana anyway, no doubt because of what had happened between us before, so the issue wasn’t discussed. I took his hand and guided him to the place where he’d realise I was eager for him. He uttered a soft gasp in pleasure, caressed me. Zehn didn’t give a damn about sikras or focused aruna. He wanted to take my mind and body on a wild intoxicating ride, that’s all. We virtually ripped off each other’s clothes and I pulled him onto me. When he pushed inside me, it hurt a bit, as if I was new from inception. It was as if my soume-lam had remade itself to be new. I kept saying his name aloud until he put his mouth over my own. Then I kept saying it in my mind, like a shout.
We spent several days indulging our senses, which meant we rose from our bed only to go out and sample the different restaurants in the town. The bed made a hideous racket – creaks, groans, squeaks and a mystifying clanking sound – whenever we took aruna in it, which led our kindly hosts to make gentle jokes whenever we appeared, bedraggled and languorous, for our brief periods of refuelling. They must have thought we were celebrating a recent chesna bond majhahn or something, because once while we were out they put red flowers in our room and another time left us a sachet of herbal cream that could be used to heighten pleasure.
I wanted aruna to grant me oblivion, to make me not care, and in some ways it did that. But on the third night, I felt restless. Zehn was asleep beside me, while I sat up in the bed, not in the least bit tired. I mulled over recent events, like picking at the edges of a healing wound. I imagined that Ysobi was with Gesaril now and their cries of release winged round my mind like mad birds. I wanted to appear at their bedside and stab them both to death. Of course, I’d been drinking that night, and I hope that was largely what impelled me to creep from the bed and pull on my clothes.
I went down to the sea and stood upon the sand. The air was bitterly cold, but the night was clear and a waning moon hung heavy in the sky, not long past full. The waves seemed alive like elemental beasts, prancing upon the shore. The tide was slowly creeping back to the land, devouring all in its path. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I created an etheric Nayati in my head and marked its boundaries. I raised my arms, and with my hair whipping around my face, I yelled into the wind, calling upon Aruhani. I visualised him hanging before me, his face expressionless, although I knew he was listening. ‘Avenge me,’ I said. ‘You are the divine hostling of my son, as I am the earthly hostling. Protect us and remove all evil influence from our lives. Let those who have stood against me receive all due reward. Let it be quick, Devourer, let it be direct.’
I collapsed onto my knees in the sand, my hair hanging around me like a ripped shawl. It was done.
Zehn and I rode back to Jesith in the early morning, a ground mist hugging our horses’ feet. He hadn’t known I’d left our room last night, and I didn’t tell him. All I’d said to him when we awoke was, ‘We have to go back to Jesith now, Zehn.’
On the journey home, Zehn didn’t say much, and I sensed he felt sad our short escape was over. I wasn’t sure what I felt; it was a complex mix. On the one hand, I was uncomfortable with the thought of having to deal with things – not least the fact I’d abandoned Zeph for three days and had been absent from my work. I was troubled about what I’d done on the beach the previous night; in daylight it seemed unwise at best. The thought of Ysobi was another matter. If I thought of his face, a thrill went through me that was part anger, part longing. I wanted to speak to him and yet also to give him the full force of my disdain. I had reached a nexus point. How I dealt with this personal situation would set the course of my life as a har. Aruhani would know I’d acted from pain; there would be no smiting. I must strive not to repeat outdated human patterns. I must rise above the situation and look down on it objectively.
At the outskirts of Jesith, Zehn pulled his mount to a halt. ‘I’m going to leave you here,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and report at the forest waypoint, and hope I don’t get too much of a beating for skiving off.’
‘Thanks, Zehn,’ I said. I leaned over to kiss him, perhaps thinking we could share breath for a last time, but he guided his horse away.
‘No, Jass. I’ll see you later.’ He kicked the animal and it cantered off towards the trees.
For some moments, I just stayed where I was. I had a feeling I was going to have to face trouble of several sorts.
First, I went to Fahn’s, who was at home. I thought this was probably because he’d been landed with a harling to care for. He seemed relieved to see me, but there was an edge to his voice. ‘Where have you been? A lot of hara thought you and Zehn had run off together, but then…’ he shrugged, ‘… I was going to say I didn’t think you’d just leave Zeph behind, but I’m not even sure I’m right about that.’
‘How’s he been?’ I asked. ‘I’m sorry, Fahn, and I’m grateful for what you’ve done. I just needed time to think.’
‘Think?’ Fahn gave me a sour glance, which reminded me of the feelings he’d once had for Zehn.
‘Yes. Think. I’ll take Zeph off your hands now
. Is he angry with me?’
‘Confused, really. He sensed something going on, without really understanding it. He kept saying you’d be back. He had more faith than most of us.’
‘Where is he?’
Fahn looked troubled. ‘You can’t take him, Jass, because Ysobi came for him two days ago.’
‘What? And you just handed him over?’
‘He is Zeph’s father. How could I refuse?’
I sighed deeply. ‘What did he say?’
‘Nothing much. He was looking for Zeph, maybe for you too. I had to say the harling was here and he just took him.’ Fahn drew a breath. ‘Jass, this is a small community and we’re all supposed to work together. Sinnar isn’t pleased about this situation, not any of it. I think you should go and see him right away.’
I rode fast to the vineyard, with a hideous spiralling feeling inside me as if everything was way beyond my control. Hara in the yard, who were loading an order onto a cart, gave me a guarded greeting. One of them said, ‘Sinnar’s in his office.’
I went there directly.
Sinnar is typically a laid back individual, who is hard to ruffle. He wasn’t ruffled that day either, but he didn’t greet me with his usual open smile. He looked tense; there was a line between his brows. ‘I’m glad you’ve decided to return,’ he said brusquely.
‘I’m really sorry,’ I said.
‘Good. Sit down.’
I did so, feeling utterly chastised.
Sinnar regarded me thoughtfully for some moments, hands folded on his desk. ‘You should have at least come to me and told me you needed time away. I run a business, Jass, and it’s the lifeblood of this community. You left tasks half-finished. It was inconsiderate of you just to take off like that. Also, I don’t think it was right that you just dumped your son on Fahn. You’re an adult. You have responsibilities now, much as you and Zehn might want to keep play-acting at being reckless young hara, still bleeding from inception.’
I displayed my hands. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You can say that as many times as you like, but I just want you to think about it.’ He softened. ‘I know you’re having a hard time, and that you went to our home to see Gesaril. Was that what made you run?’
I nodded. ‘Yes. Sort of. Don’t blame Zehn. He was trying to help me sort my head out.’
Sinnar grunted vaguely. ‘Have you spoken to Ysobi yet?’
I shook my head. ‘No. He took Zeph from Fahn’s house.’
‘I know. I advised him to. The harling shouldn’t suffer because his parents can’t act like grown-ups.’
I looked at Sinnar in appeal. ‘I don’t know whether Ysobi even wants to see me. I don’t know what to think.’
‘I’ll summon him here,’ Sinnar said. ‘You should confront one another. This situation is more serious than you think, but I won’t speak about it until Ysobi is here too. I doubt he’d want you to hear what I’ve got to say, but to be honest I don’t care if it embarrasses him. Things have gone on long enough.’
It was the closest I’d ever seen Sinnar get to being angry.
When Ysobi walked into that office, he was like a stranger wearing a familiar face. He looked gorgeous, though. It hurt me to see him. He wouldn’t meet my eyes beyond an initial curt greeting and a nod of the head. I got the impression he was mortified rather than hostile. Ysobi had always seemed so in control of himself, but that day he was almost like an abashed child. Sinnar bade Ysobi sit in a chair beside me, and stared at us both. Uncomfortable silence stretched out. Ysobi cleared his throat, crossed his legs. I was puzzled that he didn’t speak.
‘Well,’ Sinnar said. ‘Something intrigues me. Tell me, do you two know what a chesna bond constitutes?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
Ysobi said softly, exasperatedly, ‘For Ag’s sake, Sin.’
‘Yes, for the Aghama’s sake,’ Sinnar said firmly. ‘Come on, tell me – at least one of you. I want to hear it.’
Ysobi just stared at Sinnar, with something like challenge in his eyes.
I spoke just to break the silence. ‘It’s when two hara want to share their life together, unconditionally.’
‘Is that so?’ Sinnar said. ‘So tell me, what does unconditionally mean?’
‘It means,’ Ysobi said in a rather insulting drawl, ‘that the relationship simply exists as an entity, but there are no demands made by either party, just serene acceptance of the common feeling. It is a union beyond jealousy and insecurity and the need to possess.’
I sensed criticism in those words. ‘That’s exactly what it is,’ I said, turning in my chair to face him, ‘but it’s also honesty and respect.’
Ysobi gave me a hard glance. It transfixed me.
‘It’s all of those things,’ Sinnar said. ‘It’s Wraeththu’s way of honouring true love, for want of a less sentimental term. We have striven to overcome human weakness, but to be frank all I’ve seen recently is like something from my old human life. My parents behaved like you did. It saddens me.’
‘Sinnar, it seems to me we were wrong,’ I said, turning away from Ysobi. ‘What we had wasn’t chesna. It was something else.’
‘Jassenah!’ Ysobi snapped. ‘Don’t talk like a spoiled child.’
‘Ysobi, stop insulting me,’ I retorted.
‘Both of you, shut up,’ Sinnar said. ‘I don’t think Jass is entirely blameless in this situation, but the time has come for some painful truths to be spoken, Yz. I’ve sent word to Kyme for your mentor to come here.’
‘What?’ Ysobi said. ‘Why?’
‘Because it’s clear to me you need his guidance. I don’t want to lose you, because you’re valuable to our community, but I can’t tolerate your… indiscretions any longer.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ Ysobi asked icily.
‘I mean that you seem to have an unhealthy addiction to certain behaviours. It’s like I imagine a serial killer would be. They kill, then can manage for so long without killing, before the urge takes them again.’
Ysobi laughed. ‘You can’t be serious!’
‘I am very serious. On the one hand, you obviously want a chesna bond with somehar, but on the other you do all in your power to destroy it once you have it. You have an unsavoury tendency to seduce your students in a manner that leaves them vulnerable…’
Ysobi stood up. ‘I won’t listen to this. Are you mad? All I do is care for those who need my care. I’ve made the mistake of trying to have chesna relationships with hara I love – and believe me, I loved all of them – but now I realise it’s impossible. There are no hara removed enough from their humanity to properly understand what a chesna bond should be.’
Sinnar’s voice was low in comparison to Ysobi’s heated remarks. He folded his hands before him. ‘You have to listen to me, Yz. Sit down!’
Ysobi hesitated, then did so.
‘I am phylarch of this community,’ Sinnar said, ‘and its welfare comes before all other considerations. You have a good reputation, which means that Jesith has a good reputation. If you insist on destroying that, it reflects on everyhar else. These dramatic episodes are ridiculous. Once could have been an accident, twice a mistake, but three times?’ Sinnar shook his head. ‘It has to stop, or you will no longer operate from our Nayati.’
‘Are you firing me?’
‘No, not yet. I’m fond of you. I want you to realise there’s a problem and then sort it out.’
‘My private life is my business,’ Ysobi said coldly. ‘You have no right to lecture me on it, or have I misunderstood the role of the phylarch in our community?’
‘It is your business, yes,’ Sinnar answered mildly, ‘but when it affects the community as a whole it becomes mine also. Gesaril should be sent home, but do you really think we could send him back to his family at the moment? He’ll tell them everything, and if not them, then somehar else. He came to us as a healthy young har and now he’s a demented neurotic! So much for your “first-class training.” Just how will that look? What in the Aghama
’s name was in your head while you were sneaking into my house to take aruna with him?’
‘I did not sneak into your house,’ Ysobi said. ‘Neither did I visit him for the purpose you suggested. Don’t cheapen my calling, Sinnar. I have a responsibility to Gesaril, which everyhar in Jesith seems to want me to ignore. I can’t help the way he feels about me, but I do feel responsible for helping him get over it.’
‘Maybe you should stop acting like a high-class whore during training, then,’ I said.
Both hara gawped at me in surprise.
I shrugged. ‘Well, it was the arunic arts that contributed to me falling for Ysobi in the first place. I’d never experienced anything like it. I’m not surprised others have been affected like I was.’ I turned to face Ysobi again. ‘You once said I seduced you. Well… if I did, it was because you wanted me to, I think. There’s a depth to what you do that transcends mere training, Yz. It’s a deep connection. I don’t think you’re academic about it at all, really. Not every hienama offers that kind of training. It’s your speciality. You’re known for it. Hara pay you to come and get it.’ I gestured with both hands. ‘So what does that make you? What does that make them?’
‘Do Orphie and Aeron come into that category?’ he asked me, deadpan.
‘No. You don’t fancy them, do you?’
I glanced at Sinnar and saw that he was attempting to smother a smile. When he caught me looking at him, he straightened his face.
‘All I ever did was love you,’ Ysobi said, ‘and you repaid me with suspicion and savagery.’
‘All I ever did was love you,’ I countered, ‘and you repaid me with betrayal. A chesna bond is supposed to be unassailable. We should be able to be intimate with any number of hara and it shouldn’t affect our relationship, but I knew Gesaril was a threat from the start. And as soon as I saw him, I knew you would be a liability.’ I sighed. ‘Why did you want him so much? Was it worth it? Was he so wonderful he eclipsed me in your eyes? We were so content before he came here. I just don’t understand.’
‘I am not in love with Gesaril,’ Ysobi said. ‘I’ve tried to explain to you dozens of times the way it is, and all I get is this possessive crap.’