Chapter eleven

Gorodnikov

 

Castanus was greatly enjoying having guests, although they had arrived unexpectedly with only a brief mail paper to warn him. He knew exactly who John Ismay was, but he had never expected to get a letter from him. In a very long life, however, he knew that almost anything might happen.

When they had arrived they had been a sorry pair. Dom looked like an itchy boiled lobster and his companion, a slim Imperial elf with love-struck eyes, just seemed to want to trail round after him. She was a lieutenant in the Imperial army and she was clearly utterly besotted with his gods-son. What he thought of her was harder to judge, and he had no intention of prying beyond what he thought seemly. He gave them his one spare room and left them to sort it out.

There was only one thing that he was determined to find out, however. He deliberately waited until he and Dom were alone, shopping in the vegetable market, knowing that Potentilla had gone to practise archery at the Imperial barracks. It had taken him a long time to persuade her that it would be fine for her to be away from her beau for just a few hours. In the end he had to insist that it was her Imperial duty to stay fit and sharp.

‘Does she know you’re a mule?’ he asked as they inspected the stalls of Babalian spices.  Dom was far more interested in talking about his adventures and what they might mean, but Castanus wanted to clear this point up first.

‘Yes – that became obvious when I failed to burst into flames’

Castanus smiled, but there was a hint of accusation in his tone.

‘So – did you know that mules are resistant to almost anything that a witch can throw at them? Were you aware of that when you jumped in front of a CRS fire spell and saved your companions’ lives?’

Dom’s lips narrowed into a frown.

‘I had an inkling...’

‘I’m just trying to work out if you were insanely brave or sensibly calculating. I’m really hoping the latter. Brave mules can be... challenging’

Dom picked up an avocado and squeezed it. He passed it to Castanus who weighed it in his hand and then shook his head reflexively. ‘It’s not ripe’ this signalled.

‘I’m not insanely brave...’ Dom said, ‘...but perhaps a little bit brave?’

Castanus dropped the avocado back on to the stall. He tested another one and put it into his bag.

‘Of course, my dear boy – just brave enough. You’re learning. We need economy of effort in our stall in the forum...’

Dom handed him another avocado, which he rejected. This continued until there were six ripe fruits in his bag. Castanus wasn’t quite ready to let this line of conversation drop.

‘So she knows and she’s happy about it?’

‘We haven’t discussed it...’ Dom mumbled

‘Well perhaps you should...’

They went in search of oranges; an abundant fruit grown all round this sub-tropical city. There were piles of them everywhere, round and juicy.  In the New Year all of the oranges would come from Babalia, and they would be green and slightly tart, but for now the autumn crop was abundant. They stopped for a moment in front of a particularly big pile. Dom tried to deflect the conversation.

‘Why do you call us “mules”, Cassie? Isn’t that an offensive term?’

Castanus laughed deep and strong.

‘Have you ever had a mule? Have you ever ridden one? Have you ever had one carry your burdens?’

Dom shook his head very slightly, acknowledging that the questions required no answers.

‘There’s nothing offensive about a mule...’

‘...but that’s not why they call us mules...’ whispered Dom

Castanus frowned.

‘I know. That’s because mortals are obsessed with procreation. So the fact of our non-reproduction is the sort of thing that they tend to fixate on...’

He picked up an orange with blackening, blistered skin. The pulp was protruding like internal organs of a sea cucumber. Dom stared down at it.  

‘I don’t think it needs to worry us too much, though, does it, dear boy?’

They studied the rotting fruit. The noise around them seemed to shrink to silence; everything about them stilled momentarily. For that second no-one was near.  

‘Whatever it is, all of it will soon be gone...’ murmured Dom, ‘...I know’

Castanus put the orange down. For a moment he had a daydream vision of a stream of insects devouring the fruits, but then the world re-engaged with them. The orange vendor strode over to take their money.

‘That’s the spirit’ said Castanus, encouraging Dom, ‘Anyway, I can start saying “hybrid” if you want. I’d hate to think that I’m offending you’

Dom shrugged. He lifted up his bag and chose five perfectly ripe oranges 

‘It’s not important...’

They paid for the avocados and the oranges, along with a sack full of rice and some green beans. Then they turned down Adrial Street and east to the fish market. They bought tuna steaks and then took all their purchases home.

 

***

Dom had to wait for lunch, away from prying eyes and ears, to ask about more important things. He had wanted to have this conversation with his gods-father for some time, but needed to have it when Potentilla wasn’t there.

Castanus was buttering some crusty olive bread.  He was eating about half of it as he went along, but he didn’t seem to notice.

‘I was able to pass through the portal intend for the gods...’

‘As you said...’ Castanus’s voice was muffled by the bread.

‘Why?’

‘Umm’ he finished the bread in his mouth before continuing, ‘because they miscalculated. They assumed that blocking mortals would be enough’

‘Why didn’t they recalibrate it, or something?’

Castanus narrowed his eyes. He put the butter-smeared knife down.

‘Who do you think “they” are?’ he asked.

‘The Architects’

Castanus frowned.

‘They are all gone away; or they are all dead, which is the same thing, I suppose. Quiena is also gone; who knows where... so no-one to recalibrate’

Dom was not at all satisfied. There were still so many questions.

‘What about Major Viola? Why could she go through the portal?’

Castanus picked up a large slab of bread, but was polite enough not to bite into it just yet.

‘She’s immortal, or... special... or she was enchanted. After all, that witch woman got in easily enough, didn’t she?’

Dom frowned. These weren’t very helpful answers.

‘Face facts, my dear boy...’

‘What facts?’

‘The Architects were excellent at some things but their magecraft is no match for modern witchcraft, certainly not of the nasty kind’

Dom stared at his gods-father imploringly.

‘But theirs is the old magic that binds the world together...’

Castanus gestured round the room with his outstretched hands. The gesture seemed to point out beyond the room, through the windows and out into the wide world.

‘As I just said, my dear thing, not up to much...’

Dom felt like he was being teased, but at least it was on a higher, cosmic, level.

‘Major Viola must know what’s going on...’

‘She must indeed, Dominic, but she seems to have disappeared’

‘She has a gift...’

‘What sort of gift?’

‘Prophecy, perhaps... she has extraordinary powers of seeing and hearing...’

‘Most elves do, I suppose?’

‘No – far beyond that...’

Castanus bit into the bread. His hunger had got the better of him. He pushed the plate in front of Dom’s nose.

‘Well, I greatly look forward to meeting her’

‘Once we find her...’

They ate in silence for a while. Dom wondered if he would ever see Viola again. His mind went back to that strange creature in the cave and the mental writing that had struggled to form in his mind. What had happened when Viola and Bea had gone in but had not come back out? What had caused the way through to the room to be blocked? Perhaps he’d never know. He had been reluctant to tell anyone about what had happened – Laurence had advised him to keep as quiet as possible about it, but he could talk to his gods-father, surely?

‘Do you know what a prime is?’ he asked, as if out of nowhere.

Castanus looked up at him, surprised.

‘A prime number, do you mean?’

‘Yes – that, but also more...’

Castanus’s eyes were eager. A distant, but invigorating, memory stirred inside him.

‘I was taught that the prime numbers are like deities – they control the fabric of the universe... ‘

‘Where were you taught that?’

‘In Vyrnia, when I was an undergraduate there, some considerable time ago.’

Dom swallowed hard – what he was about to say sounded ridiculous in his head, but he said it anyway.

‘I think that I met one’

Castanus’s eyes narrowed, puckering his deep smile lines.

‘Do you mean in the cave – is that what you think the octopus-plant thing was?’

‘Yes – I think it was a prime.’

Castanus folded his arms.

‘I always thought that a prime was just a mathematical point, an abstract idea’

‘It was real enough and it seemed to be able to communicate by writing on my mind’

‘What did it write?’

‘It was in Archaic Elven – I struggled to follow it. Each line only appeared for a moment’

‘That’s a shame. Could the Major read it?’

Dom nodded, slightly ashamed of his illiteracy in the language of his chosen profession. 

‘What did it write to her?’

Dom shrugged.

‘I never had a chance to find out – I was injured straight after that’

‘And the naga guarded the prime?’

Dom nodded again. He felt a wave of sadness over the fate of the naga, waiting for so long and then failing.

‘Bea killed her – it was senseless and brutal’

‘Well, probably not senseless...’ Castanus murmured, ‘witches always have their reasons’ He shivered slightly. Dom wondered if he’d ever actually met a witch. He’d love to introduce him to Laurence, that might change his mind about their malevolence, but it seemed unlikely that it would ever happen. Dom felt a strong desire to act, to find Viola, to help her continue her quest for the fire snakes, perhaps even to hunt down Bea and help to destroy her.

‘What should I do; oldest and dearest of mentors?’

Castanus shrugged and smiled.

‘Do? Nothing, my dear boy; all you can do is wait. If elves are born to act slowly then mu... I’m so sorry... hybrids... are born to wait. Your time will come. Few get immersed so deeply in things beyond their knowledge and power without getting sucked back in. Events will find you when they need you’

Dom hated this advice. Every bone in his body wanted to go and do things. Every day he felt fitter and stronger. His face clearly showed his disquiet. Castanus’s smile disappeared.

‘I understand that you want to act – but for a while, at least, there is nothing to be done. Rest here, get well, drink wine with me, and be kind to your doting elf friend. And wait...’

Dom forced himself to smile.

‘I’m sorry Cassie – I am still young...’

‘Human-young, yes – but not for long...’

There was nothing more to say. They sat and ate in silence until Potentilla came home.