Burying the Shadow Read online

  Instantly, there was silence. I could hear the women breathing, but the drumbeat and the chanting had ceased. Vasni’s presence filled the room, even behind my clenched eyelids. I could feel his life force beating like a slow, smoky wing across my soul.

  It was then that I opened my eyes. Perhaps they were still full of smoke, or the effects of it, but it seemed as if the whole chamber was in utter darkness, but for the shape of Vasni and the dull glow of the embers. I could not see the walls, the light-boles, or even any of the other people whom I knew were sitting there with me. All was Vasni; Vasni like a living tree, his roots of spirit dipping down into the petrified heart of our city, down into the mountain, down, down, into the fertile ooze far below. I could almost see the living essence of the world rising up through his spine, fountaining out of his head, falling to the ground, sinking back into the deep shadows of the earth. And then it seemed as if Vasni too was fading from my sight, as if I was being drawn away, far away, until Vasni and his embers were like little dim pictures in the distance. Gradually, a formless darkness came between me and this image. It was winged, or cloaked, this darkness, and billowing like an enormous black wind-sail. I was filled with a dreadful terror, (had the Fear itself come for me?) but I could not escape. Closing my eyes made no difference, for I could still see, and could not move my head at all. My tongue seemed to have swollen to fill my mouth; I could not call for my mother. The roiling shape loomed over me and I screamed in my head. Was this the guardian-pursuer Vasni had summoned? It was a dreadful thing - so alien to the light and space of Taparak. I could not believe the soulscapers had access to, or affinity with, such creatures. It appeared to lean over me and, for a second, the darkness parted, like a veil being drawn aside. Within, I saw the most astounding thing: two beings, two auras of pale light, giving off a perfume as beautiful as spirit-scent. They looked like male and female, but even as a child, I knew the unseen ones could have no real gender, as we understood it. The female shape smiled at me and reached towards me with a glowing, white hand. Her nails were like bright red almonds. I tried to reach out in return, but even though they seemed so close, it was as if I tried to reach across infinity, a universe. We never touched. She looked at the male, and they nodded at one another. Then they took a step forward as if crossing from one tree platform to another. It was no difficulty for them. Both of them leaned down, and I felt as if my flesh was alight with their radiance. The female kissed my brow, followed by the male. My flesh began to burn there; a delicious, cold burning. I wanted to make a sound, any sound, but I could not. And then they were gone. In an instant. The chamber rushed back in to fill their space, ringing with the sound of women chanting and the low, steady call of Vasni the scryer.

  I had met my guardian-pursuers, and that day I loved them as angels. Later, I learned otherwise.

  Section Three

  Gimel

  ‘In the day we eat of this fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die. How dies the Serpent? For us alone was death invented?

  Paradise Lost, Book IX

  Thirteen dead. Thirteen: the number of all things fatal and dark.

  We had been away too long, caught up in the wine of the world, drinking ourselves into heady euphoria. Thirteen had died in our absence. Yet despite these tragedies, the world had continued to turn unheeding, dragging its aging tide across the land. Our house, in the eastern atelier court was filmed with dust, so the first thing Beth did, upon our return, was to scold the servants. Four years we had been away. Too long. Out there, once our task - that of finding a suitable soulscaper - had been successfully completed, we had nearly forgotten the point of our travels. That is the allure of travelling; all eloim succumb to it eventually, if only for a short span.

  We had crossed the inland sea from Sacramante, landing in the Lansaal port of Zhijelih. This was a central point, and we could take our time, travelling across the land towards Taparak. We had taken the precaution of bringing our own transport with us from Bochanegra - one of the fleeter Metatronim carriages, accompanied by members of our human domestic staff from home; a driver, his boy, and a body servant for each of us. These people were trusted individuals, to whom our safety and comfort were of fundamental importance. While it is impossible for eloim to make humans exactly like themselves, it is possible to grant them longevity. Our immortal blood, while not so potent as to grant immortality to humankind can, if imbibed on a regular basis, at least double their lifespan. All humans in eloim employ were subject to this practice. A rapid turnover of domestic staff would be inconvenient to the throngs; just as the servants learned to do their jobs properly, they would wither and die. If their ichor intake was monitored carefully, a human might well enjoy the bloom of youth for a hundred and fifty years. After that, unfortunately, their own metabolism seemed to take over, and they succumbed to a natural fading towards death. For reasons of security, there was a strict rule among the throngs that longevity should be bestowed solely upon the most loyal servants.

  We assumed that many soulscapers would be wandering about Lansaal, which might save us having to enter Taparak itself. Aware of the scrying strength of the Taps, both Beth and I were anxious to avoid the city, if at all possible. While there were no recorded incidences of soulscapers recognising the eloim for what they were, we still harboured a basic unease about the Taps. If anyone could penetrate our disguise in the world, they could. And the concentration of soulscaping ability to be found in Taparak was something neither Beth nor I were eager to confront. What would happen if someone suspected we were not like ordinary travellers? I dared not think about it. All my people knew that the phenomenon soulscapers called the Fear was eloim-born; ghost fragments of memories of despair from the time of the Expulsion and Devastation - tragic events in our history, of which we were forbidden to speak. It would be catastrophic if this fact was discovered; old hatreds might rise to destroy us. The Taps were a constant threat to eloim-kind because of this. However, we respected the soulscapers because they were the guardians of humanity’s health and sanity. And yet, because of their penetrating insight into the minds of others, every time we approached a soulscaper we risked exposure. Beth and I stalked them because we had to, even though we feared them - but we feared their city more.

  Beth, needing action and spontaneity, husked more than a pretty soul or two on the journey east. I myself had no desire to sup - anxiety about our business crushed my appetite - and I took only modest refreshment from my maid, when hunger became too pressing to ignore. As we had anticipated, soulscapers were plentiful in Lansaal, so there was no reason to delay our mission. I confess that I was not entirely happy about that. From the first, this idea had been Beth’s rather than mine, and I still questioned the wisdom of it. I feared discovery and was unsure whether we would emerge victorious from any direct confrontation with a soulscaper. What if they were stronger than we were? Beth sneered at my fears, although I was sure he was anxious about this himself. He refused to discuss it though. I told him we would have to be circumspect in our approach to these people - men and women alike - and yet the very nature of our mission meant we would have to be more open with them than I felt was wise.

  ‘Don’t fret, Gimel,’ Beth said, as we travelled towards the town where he had decided our search would begin in earnest. ‘I have devised a strategy.’

  I stared glumly out of the carriage window, watching our manservant, Ramiz’ booted foot swinging from the side of the driver’s seat. We followed the coast road, and although the sunset flinging colour across the sea was breathtaking, I could take little pleasure in it.

  ‘A strategy? Don’t be absurd,’ I said.

  My maid, Tamaris, who sat beside me, reached out timidly to touch my hand. Clearly, she sought to bestow reassurance. I uncurled my fingers from beneath the sleeves of my black lace and velvet travelling coat and squeezed back gently. Tamaris is such a loyal girl.

  Beth laughed. ‘It is very simple,’ he said. ‘After we have secured lodgings in Lumeza, Tamaris and Ramiz
can scout around for lone soulscapers. They can arrange meetings in discreet locations. There will be very little risk.’

  ‘I feel you have no grasp of the reality of the situation,’ I replied. ‘What happens when we meet these people? Do we tell them everything and trust they are sympathetic? It is a stupid plan!’

  ‘Of course we don’t tell them everything!’ Beth said scornfully, idly unravelling one of the tassels hanging from the window curtain. ‘We will induce them to enter our soulscape. Once they have bonded with us in that way, we can employ our usual methods for subjection. It can’t fail.’

  ‘Really? Why do you speak of ‘they’, in that case? Surely we shouldn’t have to do this more than once.’

  Tamaris pressed against me more firmly; she hated it when Beth and I had cross words.

  ‘Gimel, be sensible,’ Beth said. ‘Soulscapers are familiar only with the human soulscape, and we are not human. I am convinced it will take an especially puissant individual to withstand the inner landscape of an eloim! This might take several meetings, but don’t worry, if we are lucky, the first may well be suitable.’

  His optimism and cheerful anticipation did not reassure me.

  Lumeza was a small, untidy community. We took accommodation in a fohndahk, at the edge of the town, where chickens ran about in a yard outside, gossiping noisily, and dust from the coast road furred all the appointments in the guest-rooms. I stood dejectedly in the middle of my room, which was barely furnished, while Tamaris made soft sounds of outrage, and dusted the spotted mirror with her sleeve. The windowsill was cluttered with dead insects and the air smelled fusty, like decaying corn. The floor, the door and window-frame and the wooden beams of the ceiling, looked dried out and splintery. From this miserable base, my brother and I would begin our vital quest.

  Tamaris and Ramiz went out into the night, while Beth and I sat out in the dusty yard of the fohndahk to wait for their return. We drank orange wine in the heavy dusk, and did not speak. I was aware of the beating of my heart; I was nervous. Perhaps our servants would not find a soulscaper. Perhaps some unseen agency would save me at this final moment. Something would happen so that we could go home.

  The moon sailed up the star-shot sky and the air cooled towards the graveyard hours beyond the midnight, chilling my skin through my lace stole. ‘To bed, I think,’ I said, putting down my glass, rubbing my fingers together for the sweet wine had made them sticky. I stood up, and pulled my wrap tightly around my shoulders. Beth was a pale shape before me, slumped back in his chair, dappled by moonlight coming down through the ilex trees in the yard. I could tell he was annoyed. Somehow, I had achieved a minor victory. And then there were low voices coming towards us through the night, and I recognised the bubbling sound of Tamaris’ laughter.

  ‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Beth said quietly, but I remained standing.

  The soulscaper’s eyes and his teeth flashed whitely in the darkness; astounding against his matt, black skin. His laughter was deep and genuine. He accepted our offer of wine, begged by Tamaris from the sleepy fohndahk matron, whom she’d had to call from her bed. He had a name, of course, this first soulscaper brought for our inspection, but I cannot recall it now. He was a mature man, lean from hard travelling.

  ‘I’m told there is work for me here,’ he said, looking at me. I raised a hand without replying and gestured towards my brother. Let him do it. At that moment, I wanted no part of this business.

  Beth smiled. ‘There might be. But it is a tricky matter. I am loath to discuss it here.’

  The soulscaper’s smile seemed to freeze on his face, but I’m sure no one else noticed, perhaps because I was the only one looking for it.

  ‘Sounds sinister!’ he said, and put down his glass of wine. He did not touch it again. ‘Where, then, would you like to discuss this tricky matter?’

  Beth extended his hands. ‘Please, bear with me. Perhaps we could take a walk together.’

  The soulscaper eyed our gathering: tall, muscular Ramiz, with his gypsy looks, minx-eyed Tamaris in her witch’s gown of red and wreathed in ebony hair, and Beth and myself - how did he see us? Forbidding, aloof? Or just conniving rich children from the far opulence of Bochanegra? Then he smiled, and I swallowed reflexively, gulping the cold air. In that smile, I saw the certainty that he could take us on - all of us - if necessary.

  ‘A cool night for a walk,’ he said, standing up, ‘but perhaps bracing.’ He indicated for Beth to lead the way.

  Tamaris and Ramiz paused to let me precede them - however informal our relationship could be at times, they were aware of their place - but I gestured for them to overtake me. I followed last, numbed with cold and dread.

  We walked along a lane overshadowed by spreading trees. Tamaris murmured softly to Ramiz, looking back over her shoulder occasionally, perhaps to check I was still with them. Beth was talking rapidly, I could see his hands moving, but could not hear his voice, and the soulscaper strolled with slow dignity beside him, paying attention but apparently adding no comments, asking no questions. We climbed a stile into a tree-bordered field, far enough from Lumeza for any sounds we might make to be unheard by anyone else.

  ‘Gimel?’ Beth directed a challenging look at me, perhaps wondering whether I would shrink from this summons. I approached the soulscaper, dragging my skirts through the dew-damp grass. Tamaris and Ramiz lolled against the fence behind us; they were not to be included in this part of the proceedings but - as our dependent humans often are - were eager to spectate.

  ‘He will examine your soulscape,’ Beth said.

  ‘Mine?’ What had Beth told him?

  ‘Only if you want me to,’ said the man gently. I dared not look at him, sure my eyes would betray everything.

  I nodded. ‘Very well. Will it... take long?’

  The soulscaper had squatted down in the grass and was rummaging through the bag he’d been carrying. ‘No, I must ignite the fume. Perhaps your companions can move back. There is no breeze, I know, but the smoke can travel...’

  Beth smiled at me tightly and sauntered back to the fence. For a few moments, the soulscaper prepared his materials in silence. Then, as he applied tinder to a charcoal he said, ‘Are you sure you feel comfortable with this?’

  I stared at the grass. ‘Yes. It’s quite alright.’

  ‘You don’t have to feel ashamed,’ he continued, blowing on the flame. ‘Your illness is not your fault.’

  I remained silent.

  ‘We could have done this at the fohndahk, you know. No one would have thought anything of it. I’ve treated people there before.’

  Beth must have told him I was sick, and an invented skittish temperament was the excuse to get us to this isolated spot. Why couldn’t he see we were deceiving him? I should tell him now; raise my eyes, look at him. My limbs felt frozen, a paralysis not caused by cold. The soulscaper took off his coat and spread it on the grass.

  ‘Lie on this,’ he said. ‘Relax, close your eyes, breathe deeply...’

  Numbly, I obeyed, telling myself I was undertaking necessary action. Later, I could rebuke Beth in the strongest manner for making me do this. Later, it wouldn’t matter. I thought of Rephaim falling from the campanile. I steadied my breathing. I let this kind stranger look inside my mind.

  I was aware of distant noise, floating in a pleasant haze, where summer clouds scudded across a cornflower sky. I awoke to activity, anguished voices, violent movement. Someone trampled on my arm. I cried out and rolled off the soulscaper’s coat onto the wet grass. Tamaris was shouting, and there was a melee of floundering limbs beside me. I heard the dull thump of flesh against flesh, then silence, but for panting breath. I scraped my hair from my face and saw Ramiz standing nearby, bent over, his hands on his knees. Beside him, Beth stood upright, wiping his mouth. There was a dark, huddled shape on the grass between them. It did not move at all. The air was full of the intoxicating perfume of fresh blood. I found myself salivating, both nauseated and hungry.

  Tamaris hurried
towards me, put her arms around my shoulders.

  ‘Get up,’ Beth said. ‘Quickly!’

  ‘What happened?’

  Tamaris helped me to my feet. I could not look at what lay on the grass.

  ‘He couldn’t take it,’ Beth said sharply. ‘I thought this might happen.’

  ‘It killed him?’

  My brother shook his head. ‘No... but he saw... he knew.’ He sucked his upper lip, staring down at the motionless shape. Then he glanced at me. ‘Are you alright?’

  I did not answer, but struggled, light-headedly, towards the stile. Tamaris scurried after me.

  ‘He went crazy,’ she said, ‘flinging himself about. Lord Beth ended it for him... in a civilised way. We could do nothing else.’

  I could not bring myself to speak, painfully aware that we had contravened an unspoken law. We had killed; not through the sup, but in cold blood. Nothing felt completely real; the night around me seemed like an illusion. I could remember nothing of the man being in my mind. Beth came up behind me, reached to touch me. I shook him off.

  ‘Don’t speak. Don’t touch,’ I said.

  ‘Get her to bed,’ Beth said to Tamaris. ‘Ramiz and I will remove the remains.’

  As I walked unsteadily back to the fohndahk, leaning on Tamaris’ arm, I was thinking how wrong the soulscaper had been in his assessment of his ability to protect himself. So wrong. His own madness was the last thing he’d feared.

  He was the first, the first of many.

  I forced myself to develop a shield of passionless dedication, rather than ponder the possible consequences of our quest. It helped to think that we were engaged on a holy mission and that each soulscaper we encountered was simply expanding the knowledge we needed to save our people. A kind of unreality took hold of me. Coolly, I did what had to be done, feeling nothing. Tamaris and Ramiz became quite adept at sniffing out lone soulscapers, although after the first occasion, we were more discerning about whom we actually let into our soulscape. We used the same story of my fictional illness, which allowed me to sit quietly and uninvolved while Beth did the talking. I felt queerly detached during these interviews, as if I really was mentally ill. Beth was pleased. My demeanour added conviction to his claims. I did not realise that a change was coming over me.