Wing & Nien Read online

  “Excuse me,” Nien said in the Fultershier. She looked at him warily. “You work here?”

  “Yes,” she replied in Fultershier. “Obviously.”

  Relief flooded Nien — she knows the Fultershier!

  “It’s a beautiful library,” Nien said happily. “I love books. I’ve never seen so many.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him as if he were strange and turned back to her work.

  Nien fidgeted. Her cold reaction to him was quickly killing the thrill he’d felt over her speaking the Fultershier, but unless he wanted to sleep in the streets tonight…

  “Can you help me? I’ve only come into Quieness this afternoon and, having lost time in a book, it is dark and I’ve no place to stay. I wonder if you could tell me where I may go to find lodging?”

  “There are some short-term lodges — back down in the main shopping district,” she replied hastily.

  “I, uh…Where?”

  “The main — ” she started to say in the Fultershier before mumbling something else under her breath in Quienan.

  Nien’s shoulders dropped. He was obviously annoying her. He really should have focused. A night alone in the vast canvas of the mountains elicited far less fear in him than the prospect of spending the night on the streets of this immense city…

  Into the awkward silence, the girl carefully asked, “Where are you from?”

  Looking up, Nien replied: “Rieeve.”

  She eyed him. “Really?” Her voice was dubious. “You find libraries so fascinating. You have none there?”

  Nien shook his head.

  “And many Preaks?”

  At this, Nien chuckled. “Only one.”

  She smiled and hope sprang in Nien’s heart.

  Seeming to have made her mind up about something, she replaced the last of her books into the shelf. “I know a place you might try — for permanent lodging. Still, that will do you no good tonight.”

  Nien nodded accepting his fate that, for now at least, he would be spending a miserable night in the city.

  “My name’s Necassa Erah, and you?”

  “Nien.”

  Nien met Necassa the next day. She had arranged by some genius with the curator of the library for him to spend the night there — in the library.

  Nien had been in heaven.

  As the morning light crawled its way in through the ponderous stained glass of the library’s sunrising windows, Nien sat across from Necassa at one of the library’s ancient tables between two great shelves of books.

  “The design of this building is incredible,” Nien said, glancing overhead.

  Necassa looked up as well. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? I forget to look sometimes.”

  “Your nose is always in the books,” Nien said. Though she did not smile, Nien saw his comment pleased her.

  “Since you’re so into architecture you should see SiQQiy’s palaces while you’re here.”

  “Ah yes,” Nien replied.

  “You’ve heard of her?” Necassa cocked her head at him. “Hmm…You know, before you told me your story, I thought you were lying. Rieeve might as well be a mythical creature to Quienans than a real place. And that anyone might truly live there? I’ve never met anyone who’s convinced on that point.”

  As unfunny as her words were, Nien almost laughed.

  “I guess we might as well be ghosts,” he said, nodding. “But, believe it or not, a whole race lives there and one of us has traveled out of it — before me, that is. His name is Lant, and he’s the one that told me of SiQQiy.”

  “Well then, if you’d like, we can go out and visit the Palaces sometime.”

  Nien nodded his agreement and he and Necassa spent time together every day as the first turn turned quickly into the second.

  Through Necassa, an introduction was made to a widowed man who rented out an apartment above his home. For payment, Nien offered to repair the man’s roof and wooden staircase so that the space would be proper for a more permanent resident after Nien left.

  Having selected a book on the Quienan language, Nien spent a good portion of the first turn studying it exclusively. Though smatterings of the Fultershier was spoken as well, Quienan was the standard and it seemed most Cao residents, of whatever race, spoke it.

  Other than books on language, there were many more cropping up that Nien simply could not bear parting with. The main problem would be paying for them. As he was earning his rent in repairs, he was keenly aware that he’d need to find a way of acquiring Quienan currency to purchase the books he wanted before returning to Rieeve.

  With the new language and the quandary of attaining Quienan money on the back of his mind, Nien stood beside another of the large, terribly worn tables in the library, unrolling a large map. Placing a book on each end to prevent it from curling back into its stored position, he leaned over it. Some of the map’s features he recognized from the rough sketch Lant had made that day in the Cantfield hut, but the detail in this map were unlike anything he had ever seen.

  Nien glanced over the other two continents on the map, and then came back to his own. As he did, his eyes passed briefly over an island, a valley at the top of the map, separated from his continent by a chain of smaller islands. Looking at it, he felt a sudden and very sharp sensation of cold pierce him, as if a river-chilled blade had passed through his midsection.

  Drawing away from the map, he reached behind him and pulling his coat from the back of the chair put it on.

  “Cold?”

  Nien turned to see Necassa. “Suddenly, yes.”

  “Spending the whole day in the shadow of all these books can do that. You want to take a walk? We can get out of Cao and go see the Palaces.”

  Nien’s first inclination was to refuse. His time here was limited and the knowledge to be had endless. But the cold persisted, and he realized the help in the offer’s timing. “Sounds good.”

  Thinking to roll and return the map to its place in the great shelves, he could not find the will to touch it, so turning, he followed Necassa through the grand open arch of the library and out into the light of the streets, leaving the map upon the large library table.

  Walking side by side, Necassa and Nien followed a short, stone-covered road as it gradually dwindled from Cao city street to open road to cobblestone path, finally settling into an undeviating hard-packed swath of ground leading out to the horizon.

  In the hot season, Nien imagined it to be a very dusty road, but now it was hard and cold.

  As they walked, Necassa’s sleeve brushed by his. With another brush Nien gently opened his fingers and caught her hand. Neither looked at the other at this small gesture, they just continued to walk, enjoying the sunlight, the feel of their fingers entwined, the firm tread of the hard-packed road beneath their feet.

  “How comes Quienan?” Necassa asked in the Fultershier.

  “Along,” Nien said. “I like it. Do you know why, on my first day in Cao, nobody would talk to me when I spoke the Fultershier?”

  “On the street?”

  Nien nodded.

  “Well, because it’s weird, probably. And not too many speak Fultershier. It’s rather…outdated.”

  Great, Nien thought. The one thing I did know of the outside world and even it’s a thing of the past.

  “While I’m getting your advice on everything: Do you think I could earn some money by repairing the tables and shelves in the library? At least enough to buy a few books to take back with me?”

  Necassa thought about it. “I could talk to the curator, Pheal — I’ve bothered him before about hiring someone to do it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Finally nearing the great dome structures of the palaces, Nien could begin making out details of the monarchal city.

  With Necassa in the lead, the two made their way into the common grounds of the outer domes. Even up close, Nien marveled how the interior design of the domes continued to evolve and expand. It seemed almost…magical. One moment he’d be stari
ng at the ceiling, thinking he’d recognized a pattern, only to discover that the pattern was only a small piece of an even grander motif. He had no idea people could make such things. Necassa had spoken truly — as grand as the library was, it was stark, almost menacing in comparison to the rich warm lines and curves and covered gardens here beneath the palatial domes.

  “It’s incredible how it changes,” Nien remarked. “I’ve looked at the ceiling of this same dome five times, and each time I notice something I hadn’t before.”

  “Quienans love art. Keep looking, where you think there may be only flowers, for example, you may see…”

  Nien peered as closely as he could at the ceiling that ranged well over their heads. “Why it’s an image, an outline that I recognize from the heavens.”

  “The constellation Riqur.”

  “Riqur? I thought it was called Keda in Quienan.”

  Necassa laughed. “In the books, yes. But in Cao we call it Riqur. See, the artist that painted this dome named that particular constellation after himself.”

  “Ah ha,” Nien replied.

  “Like I said, we take art seriously.”

  “And your artists take themselves even more seriously.”

  “Tisquiata. I guess you could say our God is in such expression.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Which?”

  “Tis, something.”

  “Oh,” she grinned. “‘Tisquiata’. Literally, it means High Art. But we use it when someone understands the meaning behind what’s obvious.”

  Nien turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Did Empress SiQQiy commission this?”

  “No. Most of it was done long ago. You will see each Emperor or Empress’ mark in different parts of the palace domes, gardens, or halls.”

  I wonder what she looks like, Nien thought to himself, as he turned beneath the pendentive of one of the domes. “Have you ever seen her?” he asked.

  “Once. She’d come with her personal Guard into Cao. I saw her only briefly as I was walking back to the library from the shopping district. She is extraordinarily beautiful. I admit I was surprised.”

  “Surprised?”

  “That what I’d heard wasn’t exaggerated, you know? How beautiful she is, how kind, how strong…I mean her concomitants and advisors have to say that, don’t they? But is she really?” Necassa shrugged. “Of course, I still cannot say whether she is kind or strong, but beautiful? Yes. Her gardens do not outclass her.”

  Nien continued his slow circle beneath the towering dome above him.

  “Do you want to see them?” Necassa said.

  “Huh?” Nien replied.

  Necassa laughed. “Rieeve is a little, uh, low on visual stimuli?”

  “Of this sort, yes.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Which?” he replied with a smile.

  “Quieness.”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you think you could get used to Quieness, I mean if you were to stay — for a time?”

  Nien looked at Necassa, realizing what she was asking. He did not know what to say. He liked and enjoyed her company and was sure she felt the same, but that she wanted him to stay…

  Could I? Could I stay here? Live here? The thought blindsided him.

  “I don’t know, Necassa. At the time, I left Rieeve I hadn’t planned on it.”

  She stepped to him, taking his hands in hers. “You can’t plan for these kinds of things, you can only know once you’re actually there, living it.”

  Nien looked down into her eyes, an uncomfortable feeling beginning to stir in his belly. What would he do? Abandon his life back in Rieeve — the Cant, the school, his family?

  Then again, perhaps he was fooling himself, puffed up in the consideration of his own importance in Rieeve. The Cant would go on without him. The school, well, there was no school and he figured most of the people would be grateful if it stayed that way. Jake would soon be old enough to help father out with the construction projects, and Wing would always keep the fields. Nien could stay here with Necassa. He could take a job in Cao, study in the library and discover everything he’d ever wanted to know. Gone would be the constant struggle against irrational Rieevan norm. He would be free. Free of the burden of attempting change in a place that did not want it. He would be able to live among a great mixing of cultures. Here, in one city, he could learn not only from Quienans but also Legranders, Jayakans, Honj, Majg and — his mind spun — Preaks. For the first time, he would be among people of his own race. For the first time in his life he would have the opportunity to study, to live among others who felt as he did about art, about knowledge, about life.

  “Well,” he finally said, his heart lightening as he thought upon it. “I guess we’ll see.” He squeezed Necassa’s hand and they walked out of the domed edifice.

  “So, do you want to see them — SiQQiy’s gardens?”

  “I’d love too.”

  Passing back through the dome, Necassa exited through a different archway, and Nien found himself emerging into a dome of hanging gardens.

  Necassa dove into a grouping of lustrous vine.

  Reaching down from ceiling height, the leaves of the vine stretched nearly as wide as a man’s chest and twice that in length. Great droplets of water fell from their pointed tips, cascading down from some indefinable point high overhead.

  Squinting, Nien tried to locate Necassa through the droplet waterfall. He was about to call her name when a hand shot out of the vines and pulled him inside.

  Plunged into the heart of a warm deluge that drenched him instantly, Nien shook the water from his eyes to find Necassa nose to nose with him. She pecked him on the lips, then made to vanish once more into the arboretic jungle, but Nien was too quick. Reaching out, he caught her by the waist. She turned in his arms and he lifted her up to his chest. Looking down at him, her hair dripping upon his face, Necassa’s lips curled back into a primordial smile.

  Grinning roguishly, Nien locked his arms under her hips and began to turn. Necassa eyed him wickedly as he began to turn faster. The giant droplets of water sprung from the edges of Necassa’s clothing as Nien turned, spinning them into an ever-tightening circle until both their heads fell back and their shouts of laughter vanished into the resounding echo of the waterfall.

  Chapter 23

  I Knew Them

  I n another place, far distant from the great library of Quieness where Nien had looked over a map of his world that had set a chill upon his skin, sat another hand-drawn map. A mark in the map’s corner denoted its origin: Great Library/Cao/Quieness

  Alone, on a table of deep dark wood, this map was from the same library, but it was not a Quienan table upon which it now lay, nor had it been Quienan hands that had carried it northing to this place — many lengths over land and water — into the seat of a desolate land.

  The map itself was a beautiful piece, as much a work of art as a practical guide. Beneath the great body of water that roofed the portrait of the painted world, was a large continent filled with smooth green-coloured indentations representing valleys. About the valleys were course sketches denoting mountain ranges. On the right side of the continent was the largest of the green-coloured indentations, a circle that covered nearly the entire sunsetting portion of the map — Quieness. On the far left were three smaller valleys, separated by some distance from two more valleys situated closer in. At the top of the map was another set of rough green-shaded ovals, but each of these had been painted over in a rough, greyish hue. And then, directly in the middle, lying peacefully embedded as a prized jewel at the center of a great confluence of mountain ranges, was one more circle — the tiniest of them all. It was outlined as a perfect oval, the colour of it greener than the rest, as if that space of the map had never been smudged by the oil of a fingerprint. Upon it was written only one word: Rieeve. There were no more details than that. No cities or towns were named. No helpful markers placed.

  “What do you know about thes
e smaller valleys?” a subordinate asked, pointing at the valleys near the middle of the map.

  “We already have spies here, here, and here,” his superior replied. “In all of them — except this one.” And then, as if in direct violation of the map’s unspoken history, pressed his finger into the tiny green circle at its center. There was a resentment in the gesture, a curling of his superior’s voice that the subordinate had not heard before.

  The assistant squinted at the word written across the circle. “Rieeve? Why? Because of its size?”

  “Because the people are non-inclusive and the population small. It will be impossible for us to send in a spy.”

  “I didn’t know you knew the peculiarities of these valleys so well.”

  The leader did not meet his assistant’s eyes — he rarely ever did. “I knew a man once,” he responded, “from there.”

  “And this man, was he...?”

  “Intelligent. Inquisitive. Strong.”

  “High praise.”

  “You may think so.”

  “But he is only one man.”

  “Yes, only one.”

  “Then where to, Supremet?”

  “To Jayak. We will see what kind of forces Impreo Takayo can call against us.”

  “And Rieeve?”

  “We will wait — until further information presents itself.”

  Chapter 24

  Immortal, Like You

  “I t’s Wing Cawutt,” one of the children said.

  Wing, on his way to Carly’s for the evening meal, had been lost in thought and hadn’t heard the group of youngsters playing in the street ahead of him.

  Kojko festival had just passed, and the early chill of Ime was in the air.

  “Fa says we should call him Merehr — out of respect,” a young girl said standing next to the boy who had first noticed Wing coming up the street.

  The children fell into silence as Wing approached them.

  “E’te,” the girl said. “I’m Lily. I…I saw you once at one of the festivals.”