Booboo was worse than Lady. She was lost inside herself. She had real guards watching her. They told me she had not done anything but stare into infinity since she recovered consciousness. Not once had they felt any urge to serve her or ravish her.
One guard was a Shadar who had followed Sleepy since the Kiaulune wars. He told me, “Suruvhija Singh and her children are taking care of her.”
I felt a slight twinge. Iqbal Singh’s widow. Favored by Sleepy. But I had been unaware that the family had survived the fighting south of Taglios. I had been too centered on my own preoccupations to look after the welfare of Company dependents.
The Daughter of Night was clean and well-groomed and had been dressed carefully. She sat in a rocking chair, which was an unusual piece of furniture in these parts. She was aware of nothing outside the boundaries of her mind. She drooled on her pretty white sari, which was only a shade paler than her near-albino skin. Someone had placed a rag where it would catch the drool.
Speaking of albinos. The white crow had managed to arrive before me. But it was being very careful not to piss me off these days.
It had overheard enough, here and there, to suspect that I might have a great deal of influence on its future.
Shivetya had given us an unbelievable amount of help in return for our promise to end his stewardship of the glittering plain. I meant to keep that promise. I try to keep all of the Company’s promises. Keeping our promises is what separates us from people like the Radisha, who try to screw us rather than keep their word when that seems inconvenient.
I circled Booboo twice. She gave no sign she was aware of me. I knelt in front of her. Her eyes were open. Her pupils were tiny. Her eyes did not track when I moved a finger back and forth in front of them.
I backed off and considered options. Finally, I led Arkana into the hallway, told her what I wanted to try and how she could help.
We rejoined Booboo and the bird. Neither appeared to have moved a muscle.
Arkana and I separated, each moving slowly, as though hoping to drift around behind Booboo without being noticed. Once there we just waited. And waited.
It is hard to be patient when you are Arkana’s age. Eventually she began to fidget. Which caused the occasional faint whisper of motion, after which she would even stop breathing for a while.
After a time so long even I began to get restless I signalled Arkana forward. Doing her absolute best to remain totally silent she dropped to her knees beside Booboo’s right rocker, out of sight behind the girl’s right ear but with her face so close Booboo might be able to feel the warmth of her presence. I did the same on the left. Neither of us moved till my knees were about to kill me. We tried to avoid breathing on the girl.
I nodded.
Arkana whispered, “Sosa, sosa,” so softly that I could not hear her. So softly that even someone who did hear the words whispered directly into her ear would not be able to make them out.
I have no idea why she chose to say that. I leaned closer so the warmth of my presence would be a hint more obvious. I nodded.
“Sosa, sosa.” No louder than before.
The skin on Booboo’s neck twitched.
I smiled at Arkana, winked.
Treachery will out.
“Sosa, sosa.”
Slowly, the girl began to turn her head toward Arkana, the child within unable to restrain her curiosity.
It was not that she had been faking. Just that nothing obvious was going to sneak past her palisade of despair.
I got up and drifted so she would not discover me without making a special effort.
Arkana gave me a look which asked how I had known that Booboo could be reached. I shrugged. Just intuition, I guessed. A conviction that her curiosity could be wakened if it was teased with sufficient subtlety.
But what now? How to hold her attention forcefully enough to keep her from running away again?
Soon the girl was seeing and hearing us perfectly well. But still she did not respond. Still she would not answer questions.
She had no will to live. And I could see why. At no time had there ever been anything in her life but Kina and the struggle to release the Goddess. Never had there been anything but the quest to bring on the Year of the Skulls.
Suruvhija appeared. I had not known her in the days when she and her husband joined the Company. She might have been a beauty, then, but I doubted it. She was not now. And none of her children made you want to jump in and hug them. But they were good people, if sad.
“You got her to wake up!” Suruvhija said. “That’s great.”
“Now we need to keep her that way. Any ideas?”
“Why?”
We all turned to the girl.
I asked, “What?”
“Why do you trouble me? Release me. I have no reason to live. There is no future. There will be no salvation and no resurrection now. There will be no age of wondrous rebirth.”
She was wide awake now, but bleak, depressed. I dropped to my knees in front of her, took her hands in an effort to keep her engaged with the world outside her head.
“What does that mean? What you just said.”
She seemed puzzled by the question. I spent a few minutes demonstrating my ignorance of her faith. I hoped a chance to explain might animate her.
I have not yet encountered a true believer who could resist an opportunity to expostulate upon his particular truth. Booboo was no exception, though she was a slow starter.
I did not interrupt until near the end. Until that point she did not mention anything I had not heard before, somewhere, in some version. “Excuse me,” I said. “I think I missed something. The Year of the Skulls isn’t the end of the world?”
Suruvhija’s oldest boy, Bhijar, arrived with food and drink. I made sure Booboo got served first. She sucked down a pint of water before telling me, “Yes, it is the end of the world. Of this world, the way it is now. It’s a cleansing. A time when all evil and corruption get swept away and only those souls with a genuine chance of redemption get left on the Wheel of Life.”
I felt confused. I felt lost. I did not understand. I knew the Deceivers wanted to hasten the coming of the Year of the Skulls. That was pretty much what their cult was all about. I knew most Gunni wanted the opposite, but believed that the coming of the Year of the Skulls was inevitable. Someday. It was one of the Ages of Creation, the Fourth Age, ordained at the dawn of time. But this was the first I ever heard that there was supposed to be something on the other side. Particularly something apparently positive.
I murmured to myself, “All evil dies there an endless death.” Then I asked, “You’re telling me Kina’s ultimate task was to clear away all the human dross so that good and righteous men can pass on to paradise?”
Exasperated by my density, she shook her head violently, then went to work trying to explain.
I whispered to Arkana, “Have them bring my wife.”
I am not as dim as I pretended with my daughter that evening but I admit I never did get what she was trying to explain. However, I did realize that she truly believed that by destroying Kina I had deprived the world of any opportunity to get past its current age of sin and corruption into an age of enlightenment.
I guess Kina had been meant to devour all the demons again, only this time those would have been the devils of human kind who make life and history over into torture chambers.
The Lords of Light were going to have to take it from the top, hatching themselves a whole new scheme for worldly redemption. Assuming they were still around somewhere themselves.
Lady arrived, accompanied by Bhijar. She melted the moment she saw that Booboo was awake.
I watched, numb, as she took my place on her knees in front of the Daughter of Night. This was my wife? This clump of raw sentimentality was the woman who used to be the Lady, once able to inspire an entire empire with the terror of her name?
I did not listen. I have to admit that I was embarrassed by her behavior. Because I had not realized that there was so much sloppy emotion bottled up inside her. Around me Lady always clung to shreds of her old image . . . whenever she was not lost in her own realm of self-pity.
The whole scene seemed to amaze the Daughter of Night. She did not know what to make of it.
Suruvhija became embarrassed, too. She hustled her brood out of the room. The boys went quickly, unable to stand so much sentiment. Suruvhija herself offered me a look of commiseration before she shut the door.
I tried to tell Suruvhija I was thirsty. My throat was too dry. I went after her. I stumbled as I crossed the room. Not that that made any difference. Mental clumsiness was my real downfall.
I stepped into the corridor and called after Suruvhija, “Please bring some more drinking water. We’re all still dry.”
She nodded her understanding. She was embarrassed again, this time because she was alone with a man who was not her husband. I was about to say something to spare her when Arkana yelled at me.
It took me a moment to get back through the doorway.
Booboo had a rumel, a Deceiver strangling scarf, wrapped around her mother’s throat. Her eyes were dark with the last ghost of Kina. Her strength was, obviously, supernatural. Arkana was having no luck breaking her hold. And that little blonde was no weakling.
I needed not die to get sent to hell. I had an instant to pick which torture I wanted to suffer for the rest of my existence.
I slapped Booboo with my bad hand. She did not let up. I punched her. She rocked. Blood gushed from her nose. She did not ease up on the yellow silk cloth. I drew the dagger that is with me all the time, that normally gets used only when I am eating. I reached out and pricked the skin right under her left eye.
And still she did not stop.
The white crow said, “This is Kina’s revenge, Croaker.”
Which hell?
Lady was almost gone.
I stabbed the girl in the arm.
She hardly even bled.
I stabbed again, trying for the elbow joint.
No good.
I tried to cut the tendons in her wrists.
All the while Arkana was still trying to pull her off from behind or to break her grip on the silk cloth or to cut that cloth.
I launched as violent a blow as I could manage. When that did nothing but rock the girl’s head back again I lost control. As the saying goes, I saw red.
When Arkana finally stopped me I had stabbed my own daughter more than twenty times. I had not killed her, though. Yet. But she had given up her hold on the strangling cloth.
Possibly too late. Lady was hacking and gasping, still choking. I got down and started trying to clear her windpipe. There seemed to be some damage to her larynx.
Arkana remained calm. She summoned help.
“Where did Booboo get the strangling scarf?” I asked. “She didn’t have it before we went south.” She had been stripped naked, scrubbed down, and dressed in new clothing. Then she had been placed in this room. So someone had brought her the rumel. A secret Deceiver. “We need to find out exactly who visited her.” I did not want it to be Suruvhija, though she was instantly the logical suspect. Except for the fact that she was a woman. Hitherto, my wife and daughter had been the only women we knew to have been admitted to the secret brotherhood.
Still, this was a time of great changes. Suruvhija’s sorrow and slowness of wit could be an act.
They do not call them Deceivers for nothing.