The Myst Reader (56 page)

“Word is,” Veovis continued, “that she is to stay in D’ni. Now, whether that is for the common good or not remains to be seen, but so our Masters have decided, and I feel we should, this once, wait and see. That said, we must remain vigilant.”

“What do you mean?” Veovis’s constant companion, Lianis, asked from where he sat to the left of the young Lord.

“I mean we ought not to let the girl become a focus for any movement to reverse today’s decision. No contact ought to mean exactly that. No contact.”

“And if she proves such a focus, Veovis?” Suhrnir asked.

Veovis smiled and looked about him confidently. “Then we should act to have her removed from D’ni to some more suitable place.”

Aitrus, who had been listening closely, frowned. A Prison Age, that was what Veovis meant. Yet he could not deny that his friend was being as fair as he could be, considering his views.

Aitrus reached out and took his goblet, cradling it to his chest. He was pleased that Veovis was so happy, yet he could not share their jubilation at today’s decision. Perhaps it was as Veovis said, that he was letting sentiment cloud his better judgment, but part of him was still back there in the rock, making his way up to the surface, with Master Telanis and Jerahl and all the others who had gone on that youthful venture. Whatever he had become these past thirty years, he could not shed that earlier self.

Watching the girl speak, it had finally crystallized in him. He knew now that he wanted contact: wanted, more than anything, to stand up there and see, with his own eyes, what the surface was like.

But how could he say that to Veovis and remain his friend? For to Veovis the very idea of it was anathema.

“Guild Master Aitrus?”

The voice cut through the general babble of voices at the table. Aitrus looked up, expecting it to be one of the young guildsmen, then saw, just behind Lianis, a cloaked guildsman from the Guild of Messengers.

Silence fell around the table, Aitrus set down his goblet, then stood. “What is it?” he asked.

“An urgent message, Master,” the Messenger answered, drawing off one of his gloves, then taking a sealed letter from his tunic pocket. “I was told to ensure that you act upon its contents immediately.”

With a smile, Veovis put out a hand. “Here. I’ll hand it to my friend.”

The Messenger looked to Aitrus, who nodded. With a small bow to Veovis, he handed the letter to him, then stood back, pulling on his glove again.

Veovis turned back, then handed the letter across. “Urgent business, eh, old friend? That looks like Lord Eneah’s seal.”

Aitrus stared at the envelope a moment. Veovis was right. It was Lord Eneah’s seal. But when he opened it, the note was not from Lord Eneah, but from his father.

He looked up. “Forgive me, Veovis, but I must leave at once.”

“Is there trouble?” Veovis asked, genuinely concerned.

Aitrus swallowed. “It does not say.”

“Then go,” Veovis said, signaling to the others about the table to make way. “Go at once. But let me know, all right? If there is anything I can do…”

Aitrus, squeezing past his fellow guildsmen, gave a distracted nod. Then he was gone.

Veovis sat, staring across the crowded room, his face briefly clouded. Then, looking back at the others about the table, he smiled and raised his goblet. “To D’ni!” he exclaimed.

A dozen voices answered him robustly.
“To D’ni!”

 

 

§

 

 

Kahlis stood in the entrance hall, pacing up and down, awaiting his son. It was midnight and the city bell was sounding across the lake.

As the last chime echoed into silence, he heard the outer gate creak back and hurried footsteps on the stone flags outside. A shadow fell across the colored glass of the door panels.

Kahlis stepped across and drew the bolt, pulling the door open.

Aitrus stood there, wide-eyed and breathless. From the look of him he had run the last half mile.

“What’s happened?” he said, looking past his father.

Kahlis closed the door. “Come upstairs, Aitrus.”

They went up, into his study. Closing the door quietly, Kahlis turned to him.

“I have been asked to look after the outsider for a time. Lord Eneah summoned me this evening and asked me if I would take the girl, Ah-na, into my household, as a temporary measure. Until better arrangements can be made. He asked me because he understood my concern for the young woman.”

“And you want me to agree to this?”

“Yes.”

“Then I agree.”

Kahlis went to speak again, then realized what his son had said. “You agree?”

“I take it Mother has agreed. And you must have, else you would not be asking me.”

In answer Kahlis went over to the door and opened it, then called down the steps. “Tasera!”

His mother’s head and shoulders appeared at the foot of the stairs.

“Tasera,” Kahlis said, “bring the young lady. I wish to introduce her to our son.”

 

 

§

 

 

As she stepped into the book-filled study, Anna looked about her warily.

“Aitrus,” Kahlis said, “this is Ah-na. She is to be our house guest for a time.”

Aitrus bowed his head respectfully. “I am glad you will be staying with us.”

“Thank you,” she said, their eyes meeting briefly as he lifted his head again. “I am grateful for your kindness in letting me stay.”

“You are welcome,” Tasera interrupted, coming across to take Anna’s arm. “Now if you would excuse us, I must see Anna to her room.”

The brevity of the welcome surprised her; yet she turned and followed the woman out and down the corridor.

“Here,” Tasera said, opening a door and putting out an arm. “This will be your room.”

Anna stepped inside, surprised. Compared to the Lodge, it was luxurious. Anna turned and bowed her head.

“You are too kind, Tasera. Much too kind.”

 

 

§

 

 

Aitrus was walking across the open space between the main Guild House and the Great Library when Veovis stepped from a group of guildsmen and made to intercept him. It was more than a week since they had last met, in the inn beside the harbor.

“Aitrus! Did you get my note?”

Aitrus stopped. “Your note…Ah, yes. I have been busy.”

Veovis smiled, putting out his hands to Aitrus who took them in a firm grip.

“So what is she like?”

“She seems…polite. Well mannered.”

“Seems?”

Aitrus found himself oddly defensive. “It’s my impression.”

“Then you think she is genuine?”

“Didn’t
you?
I thought you said as much?”

Veovis smiled, defusing the situation. “That was
my
impression, I grant you. But then, I am not living with her—day in, day out. If there are any cracks in that mask of hers, you would see them, no?”

“If there were.”

“Oh, I am not saying that there
are
. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Just that we ought to be totally certain, don’t you think?”

For some reason the idea of checking up on the girl offended Aitrus.

“She seems…unsettled,” he said, after a moment, wanting to give Veovis something.

“Unsettled? How?”

“Maybe it is just the strangeness of everything here. It must be hard to adapt to D’ni after living under an open sky.”

“Does she miss her home?”

“I am not sure. To be honest, I have not asked her.”

Veovis laughed. “What you really mean is that you have not spoken to her yet.”

“As I said, I have been busy. Helping my father, mainly.”

Veovis stared at Aitrus a moment, then reached out and held his arm. “You should take a break some time, Aitrus. And when you do, come and visit me, on K’veer. And bring the girl.”

“That would be nice.”

“Soon, then,” Veovis said, and without another word, he turned and walked away.

Aitrus watched Veovis a moment—saw him return to the group he had left earlier, greeting them again, at ease among them—then smiled to himself as he walked away. To be honest, he had dreaded meeting Veovis again, knowing how Veovis felt about the “outsider.” He had thought, perhaps, that his friend would be angry that the girl was staying with his family, but his fears, it seemed, had been illusory.

His smile broadened as he hastened his pace, knowing he was late now for his meeting.

K’veer. It would be nice to take the girl to see K’veer.

 

 

§

 

 

The room was a workroom or lab of some kind. Anna hesitated, looking behind her at the empty corridor, then slipped inside, pulling the door closed.

You should not be in here, Anna,
she told herself, yet that old familiar compulsion to explore was on her. Besides, she would not stay long, and she would not disturb anything.

There was a long, stone-topped bench along the left-hand side of the room, a big low table in the middle, complete with sinks and gas taps. On the far wall a number of small shelves held all manner of jars and bottles. To the right of the room, in the far corner, was a desk and a chair, and on the wall above a set of shelves on which were many notebooks.

She put her hand out, touching the cool, hard surface of the bench. It had been scrubbed clean and when she lifted her hand, she could smell a strange scent to it. What was that? Coal tar? Iodine?

Slowly she walked about the room, picking things up then placing them back. Most of the equipment was familiar, yet there were one or two things that were strange to her. One in particular caught her attention. It was a small bronze jar with eight lips, beneath each of which was a tiny bowl. A bronze ball sat on a tiny stand at the very center of the jar, balanced above all else.

Anna crouched down onto its level, staring at it for a time, then walked on, over to the far corner of the room.

Only two things were on the surface of the desk; an elaborately decorated inkstand made of fine blue jade and, just beside the stand, a pair of glasses.

Anna picked them up and studied them. The lenses were thick and seemed to be constructed of several very fine layers that acted as light filters of some kind. About each of the lenses was a tight band of expandable material which, in turn, was surrounded by a thick leather band, studded with tiny metal controls. She adjusted them, noting how they changed the opacity of the lenses, and smiled to herself. Then, on a whim, she tried them on. Strange. They were very tight. Airtight, probably, on the person for whom they were designed. And, wearing them, it became very dark.

Again she adjusted the controls, varying the light.

Taking them off, she set them down again, wondering what precisely they were used for. Mining? To protect the eyes against chips of rock? But if so, then why the varying opacity?

Anna half-turned toward the door, listening for a moment, then, turning back to face the shelves, she reached up and took one of the journals down. Inside the pages were filled with strange writing, totally unlike any script she had ever seen before. Flicking through a few pages she stopped, staring in admiration at a diagram on the right-hand page. There were more farther on, all of them intricately drawn, the lines fine yet dark, the shading subtle. They spoke of a highly organized mind.

She closed the journal and set it back in its place, then, with a final look about her, hurried from the room.

It was no good. She would have to do something or she would die of boredom.

Distracted, she almost bowled into Aitrus.

“Come,” he said quietly. “We need to speak.”

Anna followed him, surprised. He had barely said a word to her all week. She was even more surprised when he led her along the corridor and into the workroom she had been exploring.

Did he know? Was that what this was about?

Inside, Aitrus closed the door, then gestured for her to take the chair beside the desk. He seemed awkward.

“Here,” he said, turning to reach up and take down one of the books that were on the topmost shelf. He offered it to her. “That is a history of D’ni. It is a child’s book, of course, but…”

Aitrus stopped. She was staring at the pages blankly.

“What is it?”

She looked up at him, then, closing the book, handed it back to him. “I cannot read this.”

“But I thought…” He shook his head, then, “You mean, you learned to
speak
D’ni, but not to read it?”

Anna nodded.

Aitrus stared at the book a moment, then set it down and turned, searching among the bottom shelves until he found something. It was a big, square-covered book with a dark amber leather cover. He pulled it out from among the other books; turning, he offered it to Anna.

“Here. This is the key to all.”

Anna took it, studying the beautifully tooled leather cover a moment before opening it. Inside, on heavy vellum pages, were set out columns of beautifully intricate figures—more like designs than letters.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Is this what I think it is? Is this the D’ni lexicon?”

“The
Rehevkor
,” he said, nodding.

She looked back at the page, smiling sadly now. “But I do not know what they mean.”

“Then I shall teach you,” Aitrus said, his pale eyes watching her seriously.

“Are you sure that is allowed?”

“No,” he answered, “but I will teach you anyway.”

 

 

§

 

 

Anna sat at the prow of the boat as it approached the island, Aitrus just behind her, standing, his right hand resting lightly on the rail.