Quibble, 38. Confession
Nihal brings Quibble news of a terrible betrayal.
38. Confession @Imay
Numberless, now I will speak of the Qeht-uhn-far-jah-im-li-djer. I cannot write of her as the Ayzhed do, nor am I willing to give myself to a Djer-stone’s magic. So I speak to Djer-nah-aladfar, the silence, as he touches his stone to remember my words. My tale is brief. I knew the Qeht but a while.
She was kind to me at once. Others were scornful, but never Qihbel, and for that, I regarded her hel. Even her qah Ayzhed-nah-nish, who disliked me at first sight, came to regard my hel on the Qeht’s account. I was dismayed when this qah abandoned her. The Qeht said it was really her fault, but it reflected poorly on the Ayzhed-nah’s hel to leave her qah in trouble. Among us Far, no nah can afford to be so dishonorable, for his sah may put him to the sword and lift a jah in his place. But I am not a sah now, and among the Ayzhed, I live by their laws.
For most of the time I knew her, nearly every night the Qeht went to learn from her friend Djer-ri-alnasl, and the lessons stole her sleep, peace, and strength. She trusted this Djer, though, and I would not speak against him. Perhaps I should have, but in the Qeht’s eyes he stood as deep as the sky. I do not stand so deep. That mattered little with the Qeht, for she regarded my im. Still, I was afraid to lose one of my only friends among the Ayzhed, so I said as little of the Djer as I could.
Not long before Ayzhed-nah-nish left her, a change came over the Qeht. She lost her easy ways; now she was nervous, fearful. Her hand often went to her vest pocket, toying with something there. At last, I asked her what it was. With reluctance, looking about to be sure we were alone, she showed me a yellow Djer-stone. It was a secret, she said, and I was to tell no one she had it.
“Truly I should not!” I said. “Qihbel, whoever gave you such an evil thing? What are you doing with it? Throw it away, please!”
She clutched it to her chest and gave me such a stare that I worried I had overstepped the im between us. “I can’t,” she said. “I need it to study with the vision. Anyway, it’s a part of me now. I don’t think I could bear to lose it.”
If the Djer-ri gave you that, what sort of a friend is he? I thought, though I did not say it. Now I wish I had, for soon the Qeht would discover what sort of a friend he was.
The next day was the last thought in the heat, as the Ayzhed mark days, and they were preparing for their feast on the first song at the hottest. Ayzhed-nah-cord released me from my duties with her tribe and bid me find work elsewhere, saying she and the Qeht would finish counting the metals to order from Ayzhed-nah-graph. She too was kind to me, in her way, so I took it as no insult to my hel. I did not know what to do, though. No one wanted me. They considered me rather a burden to them than help. It has always been this way, even when I lived with my own people.
At last, I was employed in the stable to cart dung and lay fresh straw. The Ayzhed-nah in charge gave me a spade and a bucket; with these, the work went slowly. I believe he and the other Ayzhed there had in mind not that the job get done but that they have a laugh at my hel’s expense. Anyway, they laughed. I bore it, laughing with them. When they saw I was not humiliated, they stopped staring and returned to work.
Late that day, after supping at the common kitchen, I saw the Qeht crossing the Axle and called out to her. We exchanged few words. She was on her way to the top of the southwest hill, where she now met the Djer-ri for their studies. I told her of my new job, and we shared a laugh about the Ayzhed-nah’s prank.
Bidding her ef-suhl, I went my way, thinking how comfortable my bed would be. I am unwelcome in the Ayzhed’s houses. With the nah’s permission, I sleep where I work. Straw was better than a hard wooden bench. It was difficult getting up to the loft, for the Ayzhed do not make their ladders to suit me. I fell asleep there quite contented.
Deep in the night, I was woken by a call. At first, it seemed I dreamed it. Hearing my name – “Uhn-say-ayzhed-nahli-imay!” – I started wide awake and saw light shining over the loft’s edge. I crawled to it and looked down. The light, fiercer than a lamp, shone in the Qeht’s hand. It was coming from her stone.
“Imay, what are you doing up there?” she said when I answered her.
“I am trying to sleep!”
She bit her lip. “Can you come down, please? Never mind, I’m coming up.”
Working her magic, she dimmed the stone, but she did not climb the ladder as I had. To my utter astonishment, she disappeared in a flash like lightning, a snap like thunder heard close, and in another flash she reappeared next to me, dropping lightly onto the hay. I drew away from her quickly, overcome with terror, and burrowed into the hay, praying I could escape her. The loft went dark.
“I’m sorry, I forgot,” she said. “Come out. Really, Imay, I’m very sorry!”
Though I did not like to think myself a coward, whatever depth I lack, I was not to be tricked by a deceitful Djer. I kept still and quiet, watching the Qeht through the straw. There was little moon, but it was near setting. Its light poured through the loft’s open door and clearly showed her standing there. I expected her to work her magic, to come looking for me. Instead, she sank to her knees in the moonlight and began to wail.
“I’ve lost all my friends, Imay, all but you,” she said through her tears. “Please come out. I’m not going to pop you away.”
Ignoring the Qeht when she appealed to our friendship would be an injury to my hel. So I said, “If you mean me no harm, put away your Djer-stone.”
“I have. I promise, Imay. You can hold it if you like.”
“No, I will not touch dyay!”
I crawled out of the straw and sat beside her. She went on crying for a while, and I said nothing. Sometimes it is best to cry.
Finally, she wiped her face on her tunic sleeve and said, “I asked an Adroit for you. He said to go where you work. Why do you sleep here?”
“I am djay with the Ayzhed, shut out of houses. I sleep where they let me.”
“I wish you’d mentioned it. My house is empty now. You can sleep there.” She gave me im. “You’re always welcome, Imay.”
All my fear of her passed. I returned im, touched. “Thank you, but this suits me.”
“I understand. I’m the same.”
“Qihbel, you frightened me with the magic you have learned from Djer-ri-alnasl. I do not think that magic is safe or wise for you to work.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re right,” she confessed. “Something terrible...”
When she did not go on, I pressed her. “What has happened?”
The Qeht looked at me, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “Everyone is lying to me. Vega and Alnasl at least are lying. It doesn’t matter anymore who is or who isn’t. I can’t go on as I’ve been doing. We made a bargain, and now I’m sure they’re breaking it.”
“A bargain for you to learn their magic? What do they get from it?”
“They get an excelsior, but that’s if I learn. What I get is Quiddity. Except I don’t. They promised to find her. A fat lot of good their promises are worth! Kindness! That’s the whole reason I came Without. To find my mother.”
I was confused by her story’s details, but I understood what it meant to lose family and want it. Far without family depend on our tribe and our nah. If we lose even the nah’s shield, as I had, then we become uhn-say, having no place in the world and no right to receive aid from anyone. Among the Ayzhed, I had heard much of the Qeht, at first good things and then bad, but I had never realized she was uhn-say. That hurt goes deep for a Far, and I imagined it must for anyone.
“How do you know,” I said, unsure of the wisdom of it, “that this Vega and the Djer-ri do not seek your mother, as they claim to?”
“A Zero told me.”
I spat. “Djer, untrustworthy! Why do you believe it? Do you know this Djer well?”
“That’s the funny thing,” the Qeht went on. “I just met her yesterday, out with Alnasl on the steppe. Her name’s Nihal. She’s a protégé of kindness – on their side, you see. I don’t know why she told me, but I can’t imagine the first reason she’d lie.”
“She told you then, when you were with the Djer-ri?”
“No. Tonight. I was just starting up the hill to meet Alnasl. I met her coming down. It took me by surprise. I didn’t expect to see her again. She said she’d inquired in her hive about me. A senior adept let slip what a good joke he thought it was for Vega to play an excelsior for a fool. She thought it was wrong, so she went to Alnasl to make him tell me the truth. He denied it all, so she told me instead.”
“And what did she tell you?”
When the Qeht spoke, it was a tearful whisper. “Quiddity is Numberless.”
“I do not know what this means.”
“It means they zeroed her. Made her a Djer.”
“But you are like a Djer—”
“It’s complicated! I’m an excelsior – half One, half Zero, Vega told me. But you can’t zero a natural One. It traps her in the amber, makes her insane. That’s why the Zeros steal Far children. It’s how they reproduce. They zero the children.”
I had heard otherwise about the stolen children’s fate, that something worse than becoming a Djer happened to them, but still I said nothing of it to the Qeht. I did not know it for a fact.
“The adept said Vega abducted the excelsior’s mother, took her from her consensus. He said a lady of control and a silence helped Vega. I suppose that’s Rasalased and Aladfar. That’s not all, Imay.” The Qeht took a long moment before going on. “Vega abducted Quiddity to make me come Without, to make me excel. It was a ploy all along. Vega has Quiddity in some Egg, zeroed Numberless so nobody knows who she is or how she got there, so nobody can tell me. It’s perfect!”
The Qeht spat her last word. I saw why she hated Vega. All the same, Nihal had told her hearsay, and living with the Ayzhed had taught me how worthless it was. So I pressed the Qeht again: “Did you pursue this matter with Djer-ri-alnasl?”
“Yes, of course. While I was with Nihal, he intoned to me, telling me to hurry up. She intoned everything she had to tell me, so it took no time at all, maybe half a minute. I went up the hill and confronted Alnasl. Do you know what he said? ‘Nihal? What are you talking about? I haven’t seen her.’ He just had! He’s a vision! Even if he didn’t talk to her, it’s impossible that he missed her! I intoned to the array, asking them to come. When they did, they said the same thing he did: ‘No other Zero is on this hill.’ Aladfar, the silence, the cleverest, said it was the phantom who chased me the prior touching. For all I know, that phantom’s his trick! I trust my own eyes. I saw Nihal. ‘What was she doing here?’ they asked, so I told them what she told me and asked them if it was true. Imay, you should’ve seen their faces! You should’ve seen the vision stare!”
I sighed. “Guilty?”
“As Within is dark! I told them all to go away and leave me alone. They all went, except for Alnasl. He said he was sorry. As if it makes a difference! And he gave me a kindness, but I don’t know what he thinks I’ll do with it. I’m done. Let Alioth take me, I told him. Let control rectify me! Let this all be over with!”
Now it was clear why the Qeht sought me out. She despaired. She did not come seeking help but only someone to listen to her pain. Her qah left her, Djer betrayed her, and for all the regard the Ayzhed had for her im, they would think she deserved every misfortune that befell her. Perhaps even her Ayzhed friends, the two nah, would turn on her and cast her out of the consensus. I thought highly of those two. But could they withstand all the others when this news came out? Surely not. The Qeht was alone but for me – of all people, an uhn-say dwarf. I considered what I could do for her.
“Qihbel, do not go home. Sleep here. Straw is as good as a bed. Tomorrow is the first song, and there will be no work. We will think then of where you may go and what you may do. You cannot think of it like this, distraught.”
She accepted my offer and advice with gratitude. The Qeht was always like that – thankful, pleased with any help she got. I found this quality in her endearing and rare. The Ayzhed do not have it. Even the Far, who believe in say, belonging to each other, do not know how to be thankful sometimes. I realized the Qeht was mindful to show gratitude because she was uhn-say, because she understood she had no right to claim anyone’s help. The truth about her had stared me in the face all the time.
Lying beside me in the straw, she cried a while, but soon it exhausted her and she fell asleep. If sometimes it is best to cry, afterwards it is always good to sleep.
