Quibble, 48. Assent

Nihal appears in the Vale of Teeth with more news for Quibble.

48. Assent @Quibble

Sunrise on the first speech was long in coming to the Vale of Teeth. The ground outside the cave was all wet leaves, muck, and standing water. I was thankful for my good boots.

To my relief, Moth hadn’t taken ill from a day and night out in the rain. He was tethered to a tree by a length of rope with some range to graze. I untied the rope, gave him more range, retied it. Then I gave thought to the horse’s plight. Moth was not used to having no stable, and I had no blanket to keep him warm in the chilly vale. But my greater concern was his vulnerability to wolves. Tied up, he couldn’t run away from them. I doubted I could fend off a whole pack of wolves with the kindness. Today, then, I had to build him a shelter. I would build it against the granite along part of the cave’s seam, where I could keep watch on him.

Nemo was still making rope and cord, eager to start work with me on the hovel’s roof, but he granted the shelter was a good idea. “I can spare you for one day, lady,” he said. “Wall the shelter in. Do you know how to build a wattle fence?”

“I’ve seen one.”

I borrowed Nemo’s hatchet and two lengths of cord, then wandered off in search of wood. During the warmth, I’d read about a boy stranded in the woods. He marked his trails, so I did likewise, hacking notches in tree trunks. Every so often, I paused, took in my surroundings, hacked a notch, fed the memory to my amber. Then I moved out in circles around the tree, cutting thin trees, saplings, and fat vines. Finally, I dragged them all to the notched tree.

I worked for hours, griming my hands and developing blisters. I was grateful I had learned how to handle an ax at the monastery. At last, having ventured as far afield as I dared, I tied together a load of wood at my farthest notch. I didn’t want to pop – so noisy – but I needed Moth’s shelter built by nightfall and I couldn’t spend half the day lugging wood home. But now for a challenge: I had to pop my loads of wood without sundering back to the clearing by the cave. Looking the first up and down, I lifted it under my left arm, got a sense of its weight, grasped my amber, and called to mind the image of the granite seam as seen from outside the cave.

Go!

As soon as I arrived, all the wood in the load tilted every which way. I dropped it all in a heap. The distant sound of my pop-out, echoing as if doubled, floated into the clearing as I examined the scattered load.

Oh, that was silly!

I’d forgotten to pop the cords with me. Getting more – “Bring back all my cord, lady!” – and leaving the hatchet in the cave, I set out again, following notches down my trail, espying as I went. Best not to pop from the clearing. A pop only sounded where you left, not where you arrived – so if I attracted unwanted attention, at least I could attract it elsewhere, giving myself time to saddle Moth and ride out if I ran from a Zero. Or so I hoped. Asuja’s talents so far were uncanny. I wondered what else he could do.

Arriving at the second farthest notch, I espied movement down the trail. I took cover behind the notched tree and espied again, but now the tree cut off my line of sight. Amber in my fingertips, I eased my hand a little ways around its trunk.

See!

A cloaked figure moved my way, following a zigzag path. The stranger’s cloak was the same achromatic gray as mine. A protégé. I withdrew my hand into cover and gripped my amber. Maybe, if I kept still and made no noise, the Zero would miss me. Half a minute later, I heard footsteps approaching. Then they stopped.

Ready to pop when you are! Meissa informed me.

Two lengths of cord fell to the ground a mere foot from where I stood.

Of course! I thought. And the notches, the pop-out.

The stranger didn’t intone or come closer, only waited for me to reveal myself or pop away. A test of trust?

I intoned, keeping it to a whisper: What do you want, protégé?

I’m looking for a friend, the Zero whispered back.

Look elsewhere. I’m nobody’s friend – I smirked to think of Nemo – only a rogue.

Perhaps you can help me find her, the Zero replied. It’s most urgent!

Urgent or not, it isn’t my concern. Thinking of one way to throw the Zero off my scent, in a gruffer whisper I added, A rogue goes his own way.

Don’t quibble!

What?

That was a pointless objection. I’m not paying it the least attention.

A small sigh escaped me. I’m stepping out, I answered, thinking it smart on my part to warn Nihal. I hoped I was right in guessing it was her. Who else could it be? I’d used just those words to define my name for her.

Careful! Meissa cautioned. Never let me go! Be ready to pop!

I came from behind the tree to find Nihal closer than I expected, floating in the air two feet off the ground. Back came her hood, down around her wide-set eyes fell her tresses of black hair. “What in kindness are you doing here?” she said.

“Gathering wood.”

“I mean, what are you doing in the Vale of Teeth?”

“I could ask you the same.”

She drew her left hand from her cloak, letting me see the shining yinman I knew it held, and glided down to earth. I kept my gaze away from the faint glass-dream, fixed it on her blank, black eyes. The glass went dead. She assented. I didn’t echo the blink.

“I’m looking for you!” Nihal exclaimed. “You aren’t that slow on the uptake.”

“Why?” I pursued.

She pursed her lips in a peeved frown. “I bear news.”

“The last news you brought me was disastrous.”

“Would you rather I kept it to myself?” she rejoined, almost angry.

“I would rather you’d investigated its source before telling me. An adept of utter control used you to—”

“Utter control?!” Nihal drew a quick breath, widened her eyes, glanced about the glade as if she expected an array of Zeros to pop in and trance her at this very moment. “You never said utter control was mixed up in this!”

“Calm down!” I commanded. “We aren’t in any danger. You’re the first Zero I’ve espied in two days. Now, how did you find me?”

The protégé looked at me, fright still in her eyes. “I went to the Adroit. You’d gone. They didn’t know where. They were upset – honestly, rather nasty about it. They said you had a glass fight with an array in their consensus, and three Zeros got killed.”

“Three?”

“You weren’t there to see it?”

“I saw two die. Alioth and one of his adepts.” Now I fought to keep my own fear in check. “When I popped out, the vision Alnasl was still fighting. Was he the third?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask.”

A vision’s death would be news hard for her to miss, Meissa postulated.

“So then,” Nihal continued, “I thought, ‘Where else?’ The Dazed monastery was a madhouse when I got there. An adept of control had just died.”

“An array of control entered the monastery?”

“No! The adept wasn’t attacked there. She was attacked at the Adroit consensus. Her array brought her to the Dazed for help – don’t ask me why! They’d already left.”

Alsephina!

This news was heavy, but I made no sign to betray my sadness at hearing of the adept’s death. I disliked how Nihal was taking her time and including irrelevancies. “And then?” I prodded.

“I went to the lord of the monastery, Indication, and he told me that you’d gone over the mountain to live with a hermit.”

Oh, for kindness’ sake! I thought. Loose lips. Who else did Cate tell?

Would Cate tell Nihal where you went, but not Alnasl? Meissa interjected. If the vision knew to look this far east, he’d have found you before this protégé did. It doesn’t add up.

That was a good point, and I thanked Meissa for it before putting the question to the protégé. She was taken aback. “Don’t you trust me, Quibble?” she said.

“Touch is trust,” I told her. “I’ve never touched you, Nihal.”

She assented again, but still I didn’t return it. I waited to hear her answer. I could see it upset her.

When Zeros dispute, giving assent is conceding. Reciprocating it acknowledges the concession is accepted and the two Zeros are again on the same page, in consensus. So I was refusing Nihal consensus, as Alnasl had with Gienah – a cord stretching taut.

“Indication told me on account of the news I bear, and you’ll know why when you hear it,” Nihal explained. “He said your whereabouts are a secret and not to let them slip to anyone. And I haven’t.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t pop your way to the hermit’s cabin.”

“Quibble, I’m not stupid! Control was all over the valley looking for you. I met an array before I popped to the monastery. The fools drew glasses on me! Do you think I’d lead them to you? I walked over the mountain. I’ve been walking the better part of three days. After all that, I didn’t expect an argument when I found you.”

“This isn’t an argument, Nihal, it’s an inquiry,” I said, not to be bulldogged by fallacy. “Do you know what I faced three days ago? A lord of control out to satisfy edict with a dagger. An adept of utter control who killed him. That adept’s looking for me now, likely his lord too. If I underestimate them, I’m dead! Now, answer my questions.”

Again Nihal gave me assent, even though I’d yet to return her previous two, and again I withheld assent. The cord between us drew tauter. She went on in a calmer tone, though still edged with exasperation: “When I found Glossary’s cabin empty, I planned to go home. Then, of all things, a rogue popped in. He called himself Alphard, solitary. That’s an evasion, not a name. ‘I’m not giving my name,’ it meant. He wanted to know why I was there. When I said I was looking for a Zero who came over the mountain on the first song, he told me on the study he’d espied a Zero on the east face, and whoever it was, they went down into the Vale of Teeth. So that’s how I got here.”

Again Meissa objected to the protégé’s story: The rain. The wolves.

“So you wandered the vale looking for me?” I asked, feigning awe at her daring.

“Kindness, no! Glossary came home, so I spent last night at the cabin. The hermit told me there was a boy living deep in the vale. I was well on my way when I heard a pop-out. So of course I went to the sound.”

I posed no more questions to Nihal. Now the cord of dissent came to its breaking point, and she cried, “Well, do you want my news or not? Quibble, I’m just a protégé in the Vale of Teeth! The least you could do is blink!”

For kindness’ sake, give her assent, Meissa prompted. I obeyed. The protégé took in a long breath, huffed it out, and slumped as if the ordeal taxed more than her nerves.

“I’m sorry, Nihal. I didn’t know how far to push with you. The first time we met, you didn’t seem to care whether you got my assent.”

“The first time we met, I hadn’t walked through a swarm of control and chanced meeting wolves! Do you want to know why I came?”

“Of course! I’m just wary, and I have a feeling your news can’t be good.”

At this, Nihal bent her head and took a moment, clearly to steel herself. “It has to do with Quiddity,” she told me.

I leapt to a conclusion: “You went looking for her, didn’t you?”

“On the last thought. After we talked, it was obvious the vision wasn’t going to tell you the truth. All I had for you was a bit of hearsay, and I thought you deserved a solid fact.” Nihal wrested her eyes up to meet mine. “I’m sorry I don’t have one. It’s just more hearsay. I went to Egg 10 and asked the physician, the lady of kindness Adhara, if she knew of any Numberless living in any of the Eggs. She said, ‘No, of course not. It’s against edict to zero Ones.’ So I told her what the adept Zubenelhakrabi had said about Quiddity. She said it was absurd. It was well known to the lords and ladies, control and kindness alike, that the One named Quiddity was caught at her spiral’s Axle during the next-to-last Fear there. I’m terribly sorry to tell you, Quibble, edict was followed.”

“Which edict?” I breathed. “What happened?”

“Rectification. Quiddity was given to the silence Aladfar.”

“No. No! That can’t be true! Adhara’s mistaken! If Quiddity is Numberless, I can believe the silence wouldn’t say a word of it. But he rectified her and hid that? Enough awful hearsay! Don’t you have any proof?!”

“I couldn’t get the proof,” Nihal said. “There are no night-doors between Eggs. I don’t know the way to Egg 17. But it wouldn’t even matter if I got there. Protégés can’t enter the hub alone. That’s where the proof is. With Utopia. Quiddity’s avatar.”

Now I flushed hot. My breaths came quick and shallow. I tried to get control of them: In, out, slowly, deeply. I couldn’t. I was hyperventilating, and I couldn’t stop it. I leaned against the tree.

Quibble! Meissa called, again and again, louder and louder. QUIBBLE!

As if it mattered, though I couldn’t think why it would, I noticed the notch in the tree was oozing sticky sap on my hand.

“Uhh,” I sighed faintly, lacking the wits to intone. I tried to say more, but I felt as if my voice was someone else’s, speaking from far away: “I’m not— Can’t—”

My body was numb all over. Before me swirled a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes, mingling, blurring. Then all that light drew away, retreating to the center of my vision, until it was only a pinprick. Darkness converged.

Perfect, unbroken darkness. Within.

A door of night closed, and I was shut in shadow.

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