of the river,’ I told her. ‘Where I intend to
be.’
Loi
scowled. ‘I’ll persuade you otherwise when we meet up in Charybdis, Sinclair.
I’m staying with Gastarian and his crew at the Jasmine Hotel, on Mariners’
Walk. He will treat you both like brothers when he learns you saved my life.’
I
refilled our glasses with wine. ‘Now,’ I said, ‘please tell me more about the
race.’
I
was quite drunk by the time I staggered from the lounge and into bed. I was
sound asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow, and did not awake until I
became aware of a slight figure nestling beside me. Loi rested her head on my
chest, and such was her size that her bare feet hardly reached my knees. Her
wings covered us like a silken counterpane. Strangely content, I closed my eyes
and slept.
In
the morning she shook Blackman formally by the hand, then stood on tip-toe and
kissed me quickly on the lips. ‘Until Charybdis,’ she whispered.
She
joined her wings behind her so that they met like hands at prayer, then
inserted them through the open window of the bed-chamber. She walked backwards,
climbed up onto the sill, and looked behind her. Her wings became a blur of
motion, lending her a buoyancy peculiar to witness.
Then,
with a wave, she was gone.
Our
last full day aboard the vench-train proceeded without incident.
We
passed through the foothills and entered a great defile cut deep into the rock
of the central mountains. Such was the depth of the chasm that only a high,
narrow strip of sunlit sky illuminated our way; the blue shadow was cold, the
sheer granite flanks of the abyss on either side intimidating. Ahead, the vench
were forced to fly in a tight formation, their caws of protest echoing eerily
between the rock faces.
Blackman
was quiet, whether through the influence of our surroundings, or in
contemplation of what awaited him in Charybdis, I could not say. I ate alone at
midday, while he stood to attention on a central, uncovered carriage,
attempting to soak up what little sunlight fell this far.
He
joined me for dinner, seating himself across the table from me with an
abstracted nod. We ate bowls of broth - an appropriate dish considering this
chill stretch of the journey. I was subdued, my thoughts consumed by the
Messenger called Loi.
Overhead,
the night sky was a dull orange gloaming; gaslights placed around the dining
deck provided the illumination by which we ate.
Blackman
mentioned that we were due to arrive at Charybdis at five the following
afternoon, and we chatted desultorily about the trip so far. Towards the end of
the meal, I said, ‘Can I ask you something?’
Alerted
by my tone, he looked across at me warily. ‘Go on.’
‘Well
. . .’ I hesitated. ‘I was wondering if ... if liaisons between Messengers and
regular humans are accepted on Tartarus?’
He
smiled to himself. ‘You are attracted to Loi?’
I
blushed, which was answer enough.
‘In
general,’ Blackman said, ‘such unions are frowned on by other Messengers - but
they are tolerated.’
That
night, as I lay in my bed in the abyssal darkness, I could hardly sleep for
thinking of the tiny Messenger, and when I did finally fall asleep my dreams
were full of her. I dreamed, also, of my father. ‘Love?’ he spat at me. ‘You
think yourself in love with an alien creature you hardly know? What folly!’
I
awoke in a sweat around midday, some residue of his censure touching my
emotions with guilt. Then I reminded myself that I was no longer in the thrall
of my father - my arrival on Tartarus and subsequent events had given me a
measure of independence and self-confidence I had never possessed before. I
told myself that I should consider only my own feelings for the girl and
dismiss as irrelevant the opprobrium of the long-dead tyrant.
Then
something about the quality of the light which flooded the chamber made me sit
up and peer through the window. At some point during the night we had left the
dark chasm and emerged
be.’
Loi
scowled. ‘I’ll persuade you otherwise when we meet up in Charybdis, Sinclair.
I’m staying with Gastarian and his crew at the Jasmine Hotel, on Mariners’
Walk. He will treat you both like brothers when he learns you saved my life.’
I
refilled our glasses with wine. ‘Now,’ I said, ‘please tell me more about the
race.’
I
was quite drunk by the time I staggered from the lounge and into bed. I was
sound asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow, and did not awake until I
became aware of a slight figure nestling beside me. Loi rested her head on my
chest, and such was her size that her bare feet hardly reached my knees. Her
wings covered us like a silken counterpane. Strangely content, I closed my eyes
and slept.
In
the morning she shook Blackman formally by the hand, then stood on tip-toe and
kissed me quickly on the lips. ‘Until Charybdis,’ she whispered.
She
joined her wings behind her so that they met like hands at prayer, then
inserted them through the open window of the bed-chamber. She walked backwards,
climbed up onto the sill, and looked behind her. Her wings became a blur of
motion, lending her a buoyancy peculiar to witness.
Then,
with a wave, she was gone.
Our
last full day aboard the vench-train proceeded without incident.
We
passed through the foothills and entered a great defile cut deep into the rock
of the central mountains. Such was the depth of the chasm that only a high,
narrow strip of sunlit sky illuminated our way; the blue shadow was cold, the
sheer granite flanks of the abyss on either side intimidating. Ahead, the vench
were forced to fly in a tight formation, their caws of protest echoing eerily
between the rock faces.
Blackman
was quiet, whether through the influence of our surroundings, or in
contemplation of what awaited him in Charybdis, I could not say. I ate alone at
midday, while he stood to attention on a central, uncovered carriage,
attempting to soak up what little sunlight fell this far.
He
joined me for dinner, seating himself across the table from me with an
abstracted nod. We ate bowls of broth - an appropriate dish considering this
chill stretch of the journey. I was subdued, my thoughts consumed by the
Messenger called Loi.
Overhead,
the night sky was a dull orange gloaming; gaslights placed around the dining
deck provided the illumination by which we ate.
Blackman
mentioned that we were due to arrive at Charybdis at five the following
afternoon, and we chatted desultorily about the trip so far. Towards the end of
the meal, I said, ‘Can I ask you something?’
Alerted
by my tone, he looked across at me warily. ‘Go on.’
‘Well
. . .’ I hesitated. ‘I was wondering if ... if liaisons between Messengers and
regular humans are accepted on Tartarus?’
He
smiled to himself. ‘You are attracted to Loi?’
I
blushed, which was answer enough.
‘In
general,’ Blackman said, ‘such unions are frowned on by other Messengers - but
they are tolerated.’
That
night, as I lay in my bed in the abyssal darkness, I could hardly sleep for
thinking of the tiny Messenger, and when I did finally fall asleep my dreams
were full of her. I dreamed, also, of my father. ‘Love?’ he spat at me. ‘You
think yourself in love with an alien creature you hardly know? What folly!’
I
awoke in a sweat around midday, some residue of his censure touching my
emotions with guilt. Then I reminded myself that I was no longer in the thrall
of my father - my arrival on Tartarus and subsequent events had given me a
measure of independence and self-confidence I had never possessed before. I
told myself that I should consider only my own feelings for the girl and
dismiss as irrelevant the opprobrium of the long-dead tyrant.
Then
something about the quality of the light which flooded the chamber made me sit
up and peer through the window. At some point during the night we had left the
dark chasm and emerged
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