Authors: Unknown
Pellaz flicked him a cold glance. “The meeting is between Snake Jaguar and myself.” He turned to Terez. “I will return for you, if you wish. Tyson can escort Snake Jaguar's party to Galhea.”
“No,” Terez said. “That won't be necessary. I prefer to remain with this party.”
Raven had jumped down from the driving seat and now stood protectively behind Snake. “You should not go alone,” he said.
Snake raised a hand. “There is no need for concern. I will go with the Tigron. I am curious to experience his method of travel.” He fixed Terez with a savage stare. “I place Moon's well being in your hands.”
“It couldn't be in better hands,” Pellaz said.
Raven assisted Snake to mount the
sedu,
which stood placidly, switching its tail. Everyhar present politely averted their eyes, except for Moon, who went to hold the saddle straight. He wasn't happy that his father was leaving and yet it would have been unbearable if he'd had to go to Galhea, leaving Tyson behind.
Now, the four of them could ride rather than use the cart, which could be sold at the next settlement. Terez's packhorse would be rather weighed down, but they would still be able to travel more swiftly.
That night, they stayed at a farm run by a group of what were presumably ex-Varrs, although they took care not to betray their origins. Moon and his companions were greeted in the yard by a har wearing hoop earrings, his head wound in a blue scarf. He was used to providing accommodation for travellers. He boasted of many guest rooms. Once they were shown to these rooms, their host departed. He said that a meal would be laid out for them after dark.
Moon was intrigued by the house, because it was the nearest thing to his dreams of a self-built home that he'd ever seen. As the sun sank, he wandered around it on his own. It was strange that the house seemed so empty. Whoever lived there must be out working on the land, and there clearly weren't many, if any, other paying guests there at present. Moon prowled along the narrow passageways and ran through the dank dark parlours. There were lots of small dark rooms, where clocks ticked as they had ticked for centuries, now marking the lived of creatures alien to those who had built them. Sometimes, in some of the rooms, Moon would hear small scurrying sounds, as of mice and rats rushing for cover. In one room, he found a dresser covered in old photographs of humans who had most likely once lived there. Moon wondered why the new Wraeththu owners had kept the pictures. Perhaps they never used this room.
Time seemed to move more slowly in the farmhouse. When Moon went to the window to look out upon the darkening fields, he wouldn't have been surprised to find the house dangling in a dark void and that the real world had slipped away. He was not frightened by these feelings or even discomforted. He was enjoying his new adventure. Eventually, when most of the house had given up its secrets, he went back to the kitchen where he discovered that the table had been laid out with four places and that food had been left out for them. Nohar else was around. Perhaps ghosts had prepared the meal.
Moon went up the tiny winding stairway to the bedrooms. He might as well find the others and tell them there was a meal waiting for them. The first room he visited was Raven's but it was empty. For one stultifying moment, Moon wondered whether he really was entirely alone and that his companions had vanished. He went quickly to the room that Terez occupied and flung open the door.
Raven and Terez had become like a statue carved of wood, painted to look real. They sat upon a sofa beneath the window, as motionless as stone and utterly silent. They looked dead, but he knew they weren't. Joined lip to lip, sharing secrets deep and dark, a lifetime of information perhaps. Moon stood at the threshold for some moments, unsure of what to do. It seemed rude to interrupt such an intense process and he doubted whether Terez or Raven would even hear him if he did speak. Darkness was beginning to claim the room as the last of the twilight faded. It was like an entity in itself, alive and sentient.
Moon closed the door and stood in the corridor. That left only Tyson. A few minutes ago, knocking on Tyson's door, to tell him food was waiting had seemed an easy thing to do. Now, it was different. Moon wasn't sure what reception he'd get, yet surely Tyson must be hungry.
Not that hungry, obviously. When Moon knocked upon the relevant door and received no answer, he opened it and found that Tyson was lying face down on the bed, snoring.
The darkness was beginning to get a bit creepy now, but the prospect of the kitchen, with the warm range in the corner, seemed more inviting than the gloomy corridors and bedrooms upstairs, so Moon went down to eat alone. Clocks ticked slowly around him and the night stole in. Moon wished some of the hara who lived in this place would make an appearance. It was as if they'd vanished like spirits. A beam in the ceiling creaked and Moon almost jumped out of his chair. There was nothing else to do but go to bed and hope that in the morning everything would be normal.
Moon didn't undress, but only took off his boots and got into his bed fully clothed. It was cold in the room and he could see his breath misting by starlight. Fortunately, the covers were thick and warming. He snuggled down into them, but felt far from drowsy. Noises came through the wall: creakings and sighs. Moon was so convinced the place was haunted, it took him some moments to realise he was listening to the sounds of two hara taking aruna together. Raven and Terez had clearly resolved their problems.
Moon put his hands over his ears. He didn't want to hear those sounds. They only reminded him how alone he was. He could smell the season creeping in through gaps in the window frame. He could smell apples and wood smoke. He could hear the house breathe, exhalations of centuries, and mingled with these sensations were the sounds of hara in love. Moon screwed up his eyes, bit the inside of his cheek. He felt hot and feverish. He was the heart of a volcano, churning with lava, ready to blow. He couldn't lie there suffering. His body wouldn't let him.
Moon could already see Tyson before he even went back into that room. He could see him lying there, right inside the bed now, a mound of blankets, curled up like an animal. The brass door handle was so cold Moon had to pull his hand from it firmly. The ice went into him. He couldn't tell if his skin ripped or not. He was thinking of a house in the desert, and in his imagination, something rattled outside in the night breeze. He heard a coyote sing to the stars. He smelled dust and the reek of sage. He thought of Pellaz, who was more beautiful than any living creature had a right to be: an unreal thing like a dream or a fantasy. Moon still couldn't believe he'd met him, or that he could in any way resemble this paragon of harishness. But at one time, Pellaz had been young and guided by instinct and desire. He had stooped to pluck a bright flower from the desert floor, and the perfume had been like wine, and its thorns had been like poisoned steel.
Moon closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. His heart seemed to be beating inside his face. His eyes were throbbing. There was a chair near to the bed, where Tyson had thrown his clothes. Moon crossed the floor, every board creaking beneath his feet, and sat down in it, on the garments that had recently been close to Tyson's skin. Moon put his hands on the faded chintz of the arms and stared at the bed. Tyson was still snoring, invisible in his warm musky nest.
I could sit here all night,
Moon thought. He could no longer hear any sounds from elsewhere in the house. His breath misted on the air, hanging in clouds around his head. He could see the blankets on the bed moving slightly with Tyson's sleeping breath.
“Ty...” Moon's lips were so cold, he couldn't feel the word come out, and yet the inside of him was raging heat.
He knew this softly spoken word penetrated whatever deep realm Tyson explored in his sleep, because the mound in the bed suddenly became utterly still and silent. After a moment, Tyson poked his head out.
“What is it?” he asked, looking startled. “What's happened?”
Moon saw there was to be no dreamy realization of his desires, no reply of romantic history. “Nothing,” he said. “I had to get away.”
“From what?”
“Raven and Terez. They are in the room next to mine and it's a roonfest in there.”
Tyson sat up and yawned, pulling the blankets around his shoulders. “You shouldn't be in here. You know that. Terez would have my skin.”
“Tyson?”
“Yes?”
“What have I done wrong?” Moon thought it was the most important question he had ever voiced.
“Nothing,” Tyson said softly. “You know that too.”
“Don't send me away.”
Tyson sighed deeply and ran his hands through his hair. The blankets fell from his shoulders, revealing more than Moon could cope with. Smooth skin, an amulet on a thin chain. “Being with you, inviting you into my bed – it's what hara would expect of me,” he said. “They never see me. They see
him.
Always. And if he were here now, he would bring you to his bed, and you would be lost. You would never leave that bed, not in your heart. It would haunt you for the rest of your life, and that is a long time. Do you understand?”
“I don't know who you're talking about. I don't know that har.”
“I want to be different,” Tyson said. “I want Pellaz to be pleased for us, give us his blessing...” He shook his head. “It will never happen. If I ever do any of what I want to do, I'll be judged for it, because nohar will see me. They'll see Cal, the mother of my being. My tainted hostling.”
“
I
see you,” Moon said. “It's all I see.”
“Don't do this to me. It's not fair.”
Moon saw then that a door in Tyson's protective sanctuary had opened just a chink. He had betrayed weakness. He had betrayed that the unfairness was because he wouldn't be able to resist for much longer. “I love you,” Moon said. “I have always done so. It's in my blood.”
“No,” Tyson said. “It's not. Dorado never fell for Cal. Quite the opposite. Don't delude yourself.”
“I'm not in love with Cal.”
“You're not in love with me. It isn't that, Moon. It's just us – Wraeththu, hara.”
“It's the selfish creature,” Moon said. “It's aruna. Is that what you're saying? It has a life of its own, I know. It thinks.”
Tyson laughed uncertainly. “Well, that's a new take on it. But yes, maybe. I'm not sure myself, Moon. I'm not sure of what I feel. I only know there would be consequences involved in us being together, and maybe we should wait until we're sure.”
“You are so not like your hostling,” Moon said. “Can't you see it? You once said to me that we are not Pell and Cal. I know that. We're not even symbols of them. What happened to them won't happen to us. I know it. You don't have to be afraid. I'm no starry-eyed virgin, Ty. I know how it is.”
“You are a Cevarro,” Tyson said, “and you want your own way. You all do. Soon you'll be calling yourself har Aralis, and you'll be different. It will come easily to you. Pellaz could live his life again through you. He could punish Cal through me.”
Moon considered that this exchange, though conducted in level tones, was really a kind of raging argument. He should give up, leave the room, close the door. There seemed no way forward. He would go to a new life and accept all that was offered to him. It would be the easiest course. He stood up. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I was wrong.” Even as he made his way across the room, which had suddenly transformed into a gigantic space, he knew he hadn't made a fool of himself. That was perhaps the saddest part.