The Book and the Memory (continued II)

"What did you do?"1

"It was an elemental."  He said, looking into the depths of his teacup, frowning as though there were a storm in it.  Mnemosyne was shocked; he must have more power than she had first thought- and more power than he himself acknowledged.2

"I was trying to get into Fairy, and find Katherine a gift- but I lost my way and ended up just opening a door.  Mnemosyne nodded, that was how most pure elementals found their way through to this realm- though the mixed or contaminated elementals could quite frequently find their own way through.  "Your father knew even before I did, and he seemed to know it was me that had done it- and why."  Mnemosyne didn’t say anything, she didn’t look at him and he didn’t look at her, both staring intently at their tea, now cool enough to drink, but still undrunk.3

"Fifteen dead."  He said in a quiet voice, though it was still probably louder than he’d intended it to be.  He looked up suddenly, to look directly into Mnemosyne’s eyes "They blamed her.  That’s the worst of it.  They blamed Katherine!"  A tear rolled down his cheek and Mnemosyne wanted to look away, but she remained caught in his gaze.  4

“It was like Averill was expecting that, like- what happened here was following some pattern he always meets, or maybe it had all been written down before it happened.  I thought for those first few days that he had some seer in him… but always assured me that he didn’t.  But surely you’ve seen the way he is – I’ve never seen anyone so in control as he was.5

“I remember that night, almost everyone from the village and the farms around were in the Lightening Tree after, well- after things started to happen.  They were all shouting and accusing Katherine, and there she was in the middle of it all, crying and shouting back that it wasn’t her.  Three guys who worked the fields were holding me back, in the corner; it took that many- I was so mad if they hadn’t held me I’d have hit everyone shouting at her.  They all thought I was bewitched or something.  But basically it was chaos in there.  Your father just walked in, holding your hand – I don’t suppose you remember it though.  And the two of you were just so quiet it was as though you sucked all their noise into you.  Everything calmed down real quick then.6

“As soon as Averill could be heard without having to raise his voice he started telling people what to do, told me to calm down, and told those three guys to let me go.  We ended up just standing there in that corner, a little confused about why we’d been struggling so hard against each other.”  He paused, looking at her thoughtfully “It’s funny, I can’t seem to remember where you went.  All I remember of you that night is that image of you with your dad in the doorway, quiet as ever.”  He shook his head at the image, as though no longer sure that that was the way it happened at all.7

Mnemosyne didn’t know what to say; she didn’t remember that night, any better than she remembered this village or the man in front of her.  But she did remember the description he gave of her father, the impression he had of her.  Instead of remembering that night, she remembered the last night she’d spent with her father- the unnatural movements of his body as it convulsed in pain.  She had pulled him onto her lap, had wept into his 8

bloody hair and had held him until he died- it had taken four hours.9

“That was the last time I saw her, in the Lightening tree, being threatened and cursed by everyone with a tongue- and all because of me” Tristan called Mnemosyne back to the memory in question, his, not hers.  “Averill had things arranged already- he didn’t tell me.  Wasn’t sure what I’d do.  He’d packed all that she needed himself, and had some friend of his guide ready with a couple of horses to take her away.”  10

Tears shone in his eyes.  He was quiet for a long time.11

“That was your father’s, wasn’t it?”  Tristan asked gently.  Mnemosyne frowned, then noticed she was clutching again at the ring on a chain around her neck- the same chain Averill had worn it on.  She smiled and nodded.12

“So…” Tristan cast around for something less painful to either of them to talk about, and failed “do you know who took the book?”13

“I have my suspicions, but my father gave them too me, I’ve not made much progress since he died.”14

“Why do you move about so much then? If you’re not tracking someone?”15

“Well, to start with I’ve no where to settle down.  If I just decided to stop somewhere like this I don’t think I’d be much appreciated- I mean Katherine, I’m guessing, lived here all her life and still think what they might have done.  I’d be blamed for every sneeze and either burned or just run out of town.  I could try going to one of the larger cities- but I’d more than likely be arrested if I hung around trying to sell petty magic to earn a living.  And besides, it’s harder for people to find me when I don’t know myself where I’m going to be next.  16

“Life is easier when you aren’t easily found.”17

“People look for you?”  Mnemosyne shrugged to indicate that, yes people did look for her. “Who?”18

“People who knew my father, people who think I have his skill, or his books.  But it’s really the people from fairy that are the problem.”19

Tristan’s breath caught.20

His eyes swept swiftly to the silver chain that was plaited into her hair amongst the cautious red cotton and idle dry grass, and then to the sword that was still at her side, finally taking in the contents of her baldric, where the intricately carved and painted blow pipe was only just visible- easily mistaken for some child’s toy in it’s brightness or a trinket for sale with its beauty.  “You’ve been to Fairy.”  He said eventually- a statement, not a fact. 21

Embarrassed suddenly by the new respect in Tristans eyes, Mnemosyne looked at the ground.  She had indeed been to fairy, a few times, and made both friends and enemies.  It was there that she had received her weapons- the sword and the pipe and darts, but she’d seen some things she’d rather not have at the same time, and it had taken her sometime to get the stains out.22

“Everywhere I went in this world reminded me of him,” Mnemosyne said quietly.  “And I’d been told the way when I was much, much younger.”  She shrugged again “It was no harder than going anywhere else- so long as you know where you’re going.”23

“So, where are yeh headed?”24

“I’m not sure right now,” Mnemosyne replied more openly than usual, thrown off guard by the unexpected question.25

“Then I insist you stay here t’night.  There’s not another village you can walk to in what’s left o’ today, and so if you’re stayin’ in this village you may as well stay here.”26

Mnemosyne grinned her thanks, if truth be told she hadn’t slept indoors for over a week, and felt she could do with the change.  27

The conversation shifted to Tristan’s work since Averill had left him, he brought down some of the bells and a few of the salt sellers from their places on the walls and explained how he used them – always seeming to seek for reassurance, as though he wasn’t sure whether he was right or not, despite his recurrent success.28

Later Mnemosyne brought out some of her trinkets and told some of the more elaborate stories of how she’d come by some of them, but she didn’t tell him about her blow pipe or sword – or any of her journey to Fairy; he would be, she felt, too eager to walk there himself- and too able to get just far enough to have problems getting back.  29