The Shattered Goddess. Darrell Schweitzer
it is for my last journey,” said Tharanodeth. “I have my walking shoes on, too.” He pulled up the blanket so Ginna could see them.
“Please... don’t...”
“Die? Please don’t die?” the Guardian laughed softly. Then he sighed. His breath was wheezing and tired. “I’m afraid none of us has much control over that, any more than we can prevent our epoch giving way to another. Telechronos said that He said it all, the old windbag. But listen to me, my friend. Yes, you are my friend. Guardians aren’t supposed to have friends. They can’t. Everybody wants something, or spies for this faction or is in the power of that lord. It is like a cave of spiders, each spinning webs to entrap the rest He who sits aloof, beyond all that, is the most alone. I have only you. You are the only one who is not tainted by intrigue. This is why I have tried to keep your comings and goings a secret. Of course a few people know. But they’ll keep quiet for a while yet, I hope.”
“But, why me?”
“There had to be someone. I think I would have gone mad without you. Some guardians have, you know, although their subjects interpret their madness as holy ecstasy. And why not you? You are mysterious enough to hold my interest Yes, very mysterious. I think there is more to you than the eye can see.”
“What? How am I so mysterious?”
“Who were your parents?”
Ginna was left speechless by the directness of the question. All he could utter was a babble of half-formed words. He sat down on a stool by the bedside and stared at his friend for a while in silence. All around him flickered scented candles, set there to attract the Bright Powers and drive off the Dark. Some sputtered. This and the old man’s dry breathing were the only sounds.
With a great heave The Guardian sat up, turned, and took the boy by the shoulders. He stared intently into his eyes.
“You didn’t have any parents,” he said. “You know that much already.”
“I was... found.”
“But do you know where?”
Ginna shook his head.
“In the same cradle with that horror of a son of mine. You didn’t know that, did you? Did you know that everyone said you were bewitched? My magician wanted you killed. He’s a fusty old buzzard, but he means well, so I think he really felt there was a danger to me. But I said no. I saw a destiny in you. I don’t know what. These things have a way of working themselves out. But something special.”
Exhausted at the strain of sitting up, he let go of the boy and dropped down onto his pillows.
Moved near to tears, wanting to open himself as fully to Tharanodeth as he had to him, Ginna did something he had never done before in The Guardian’s presence. He folded his hands together, then opened them, then folded them, until he had made a dozen balls of light and juggled them. They drifted slowly, none of them brighter than the candles. When he stopped they fell on the bed and the floor and winked out.
“Then it is true. You are magical.”
“I can do what you just saw. When I first came to you, I was afraid to. After that, I guess I never did.”
Tharanodeth smiled. “I never asked you to.”
“It’s as easy as talking or moving my fingers, but I don’t think there’s anyone else who can do it. I don’t know what it means.”
“I had really hoped you would,” said The Guardian, staring up at the ceiling, where the two aspects of The Goddess looked down on him. “I am going into a far country, from which I shall never return. They say that when we depart thence, when we walk the last long road, if we are brave and true and avoid all the perils, we come to paradise, and sit there listening to The Musician play beautiful songs for all of eternity. But this is uncertain, for no witness has ever come back to report it. I am afraid. I will tell you that much. I had hoped you could provide me with some insight, some comfort, some secret gained through your magical nature. Something. Have you ever had visions?”
Ginna spoke slowly, very carefully. “I have had dreams. You are usually in them. You are very wise and you lead me. Sometimes we walk in the dead city among the flickering towers, and I can see the faint outlines of the buildings as they looked when they were new. There are people hurrying back and forth. We try to talk to them, but they don’t stop. To them we’re invisible.”
“Then whatever secret is in you has not yet come out. Perhaps it shall when I am gone. That is why I fear for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes. If I could have things as I want them, you would be my heir and rule all of Randelcain6 after me. But I have made it clear from the start that you are not. I said so in front of witnesses when you were found, and for a very good reason. After I am dead, you must keep that quality which had endeared you to me. Stay out of politics. Don’t seek position or fame. Don’t get to know the right people. If you are part of even a little intrigue, a tiny stratagem, you are changed forever. Do you understand why I was so careful to disinherit you? If you had any claim to the throne, how long do you think you would be allowed to live? Kaemen has his followers already.”
“What shall I do, after—?”
“Just live. I hope you can do that. Then, if there is a destiny hovering about you, it will be fulfilled. If not, you’ll still be happier.” He took a ring from one of his fingers and gave it to Ginna. “Wear this always. It will tell people that anyone who harms you will face the curse of my ghost. It is my last command to you that you survive. See that it is carried out.”
“I love you,” the boy wept. He leaned over and put his head on the old man’s chest. He sobbed without restraint.
“I love you too.” Thin, pale fingers with skin dry as parchment stroked his hair. “I don’t believe guardians are supposed to love anyone. We’re supposed to be beyond all that”
Someone knocked on the door to the chamber.
“Holy Lord,” came a voice. “Are you awake?”
Ginna sat upright, stiff with terror.
“Go quickly,” whispered the old man. “It’s one of my accursed doctors. Very skilled, utterly useless now. A bore. You wouldn’t want to meet him.”
The boy left the bedside without another word. He drew aside a tapestry, pressed on a stone, and left the way he always did.
* * * *
Shortly before dawn, Ginna lay awake atop a heap of straw in his room in one of the short, squat towers overlooking the kata stables. The quiet of the night was broken only by the occasional snorts and whines of the beasts and the far off cries of the watch.
He chose to be alone then, but it occurred to him that most of the time he was alone anyway without any choice. Courtiers and soldiers ignored him as just another urchin. The stable folk, the trainers of the katas, the smiths, and the serving women were always polite. They tried to act naturally around him, as if he were no one special, but he knew, he could secretly sense that they were a little in awe of him and a little afraid. He sometimes overheard snatches of whispered conversations. He was, after all, so often led away by men of purpose and bearing. Someone was showing him more attention than he would normally merit, and trying to hide the fact He was, rumor had it, part of some intrigue, perhaps a child of high rank being hidden until some danger was past. But the gossipers could never possibly imagine the truth, that he was being summoned by The Guardian himself, that he was Tharanodeth’s friend.
His friend. It occurred to him that he had only two friends in the world. He knew so few people. He had been educated only by Tharanodeth, and spottily, learning whatever it had moved the old man’s fancy to teach him.
Tharanodeth and the girl Amaedig, whose name meant Cast Aside. And now Tharanodeth was dying. But he could weep no more. He had exhausted his supply of tears that evening, and there was only a hollow ache within him.
“Ginna.”