After lunch there had been an absurd
meeting in the major’s office between Viola and Dom. The elf had described very
carefully, as if explaining something rather complicated to a dull child, all
about mail paper. In turn, Dom, the apprentice mage, had to pretend that he had
never heard of the things before. He was happy with the resulting confusion: it
was fine by him if his ‘superior’ thought him an utter fool.
He knew exactly where
to go to get some mail paper; it would take him an hour or so to get it on a
hired horse and it would involve visiting one of his favourite people in the
world. However, this would be far too quick to be plausible for an incompetent
functionary and so he decided that he would have to make an afternoon out of it.
He would walk the long way along the harbour wall and on into the Elven
quarter.
Gorodnikov was a city in three parts:
the sprawling human buildings on high ground to the east, the harbour in the
middle, and the ancient elven city on the island of Psephos to the west. The two species mixed quite readily in the
offices and warehouses around the harbour, but there was less intercourse
within the other two areas. None of this worried people very much, except
perhaps the poorer humans – there were very few poor elves – but the city
remained prosperous and so people generally rubbed along.
The government
buildings were just on the eastern side of the harbour, which roughly
summarised local politics – the governor was human, but he had a Visneorian
name and a lot of smart elven friends.
The walk from the
civic centre to the sea took about three minutes. After that, Dom turned right
and strolled along the low, wide, harbour wall. Ships spread out in front of
him in an apparently infinite range of shapes, sizes and colours. He could tell
the provenance of many of them: fast
clippers from Paror, designed to cross the Central Sea in just a few days; huge
cargo ships from Babalia, bringing dried fruit, green bananas and spices;
smaller ships from the cities of the Oket federation carrying meat and hides;
and among them, the beautiful Visneorian patrol vessels, small and sleek, with
their lovely purple sails. These were two of the very few things he had ever
missed about his home city when in Amansk – the boats in the harbour and the
endless sea.
He walked slowly on,
completely ignoring the noises of loading and unloading coming out of the warehouses.
His eyes were fixed on the blue-green ocean.
He finally came to
the toll bridge that spanned the strait between Psephos and the mainland. The
toll man waved at him as he approached. They chatted briefly about the recent
wars, and the spring weather, and then he paid the toll and strolled across the
bridge. Behind him was light and heat
from the warehouses, and in front of him was the cool stuccoed elegance of the
elf town. He had never been able to say which he preferred.
Dom’s gods-father was a mage. He had no idea how he had acquired a gods-father,
particularly given that he had absolutely no clue who his parents were, but
here he was, Castanus Mulus, if not perhaps quite the wisest Mage in the city
then most certainly the oldest. He was a round and jolly elf, and looked about
sixty. The thing was, however – he’d been like that for thousands of years.
Castanus was delighted
to see his gods-son. He yanked him in from the front door of his tiny town
house and gave him a giant, very un-elven, hug.
‘Dominic!’ he boomed,
‘lovely to see you again so soon!’
Although they had not
seen each other for five years at least, Dom wasn’t put off at all. He was used
to this.
They parted and
Castanus looked his gods-son up and down.
‘You’re taller than
me!’ continued Castanus, in mock affront, ‘how can that be?’
‘Children are as fast as weeds’ said Dom, quoting an old elven
children’s rhyme
‘And grown-ups as dull as oaks…’ continued Castanus, ‘or in my case
yews…’
Dom was dragged into
the sitting room and plonked down on the most comfortable chair. Castanus
continued to grin with pleasure.
‘You’ll be old enough
to drink now, then…’ said Castanus, delightedly.
‘I suppose so’ said
Dom, a little hesitantly. His gods-father had a reputation for avid
experimentation when it came to food and drink. Castanus opened up a large cabinet
and pulled out a bottle full of bright green liquid.
‘This is the stuff!’
‘What is it?’ asked
Dom
Castanus laughed. He
filled two fat wine glasses with the viscous liquid and passed one over to Dom.
‘Don’t ask….’
Dom picked up his
glass and sniffed it. It smelled of distilled apple and molasses. He dared to
sip it. It tasted worryingly marvellous. He did have to get back at some point,
though, and, he had at least two important things to say. One glass couldn’t
hurt though, could it?
Castanus sat down
opposite Dom and drank half of his glass in a single gulp. He burped moderately
politely.
‘So, what’s your
news? Why are you here? What’s going on
in your life? How’re Lily and Toby? Have you seen the Governor? Tell me
everything…’
Dom knew that this
questioning might go on all day, and so he had better say what he needed to say
first and then make a quick exit. He looked straight at his gods-father,
willing him to be serious.
‘I know, Cassie…’
Castanus looked
puzzled, but concerned, perhaps even slightly shocked.
‘What do you know,
dear Dom? You look very solemn…’
‘I’ve felt it. I have
looked into the future’
‘Ah, you have, have
you?’ said Castanus, smiling sadly, ‘and what exactly did you see?’
Dom squeezed his
hands together in front of him, almost as if he were praying. This was the
first time he had revealed this to anyone, and Castanus was the only person whom
he trusted with the information.
‘I saw no edges,
Cassie, no limits, no borders. It is just eternity stretching away like a dark
sea in every direction’
Castanus put his hand
on top of Dom’s clenched fingers. His voice was soft and quiet.
‘It was only a matter
of time, my dear, I suppose…’ he murmured ‘…and when did this happen?’
‘You know when it
happened,’ said Dom, fiercely but not unkindly, ‘at the same time as it
happened to you’
‘Well’ said Castanus,
withdrawing his hand, ‘that was a long
time ago…but I take your point’
‘How old are you, gods-father?’
‘I’m a first born. I’m
almost as old as the oldest human, and I suppose, assuming good luck, of
course, that I will be here after all the humans are gone’
‘And will I be too,
then?’ asked Dom, knowing the answer.
Castanus barely
nodded.
‘A Mule’s sentence, gods-son…. for better or
worse…’
Dom studied
Castanus’s face carefully. It was weary, but not unhappy. Somehow he had made his own life bearable. Castanus looked away. He took another gulp
from his glass, noticed that it was now empty and got up and filled it
again.
‘Why didn’t you tell
me earlier?’ asked Dom, still without rancour.
Castanus considered
this, leaning against the drinks cabinet. He walked over to Dom and stroked his
head. Then he drained his glass very rapidly and returned to the green bottle sitting
on the sideboard.
‘Because I wanted you
to remain a sweet little human boy for as long as possible…’ he said, as he
poured himself another glass, ‘…that’s why’.
Dom sighed.
‘Is it really
terrible?’ he asked, his heart pounding in apprehension.
Castanus filled his
glass again, this time right to the brim.
‘No, of course it
isn’t. It’s just a long haul, hard work and it’s full of disappointments. For
us, other people are always a great disappointment…’
Several pennies began
to drop in Don’s mind.
‘I can see now why
you’re my gods-father. I often wondered why they’d chosen a hybrid’
Castanus laughed.
‘Mules need to stick together.
Everyone else leaves so fast’
Dom thought of Lily.
How long would she live? Seventy years, eighty at the most. It was just the
blink of an eye – it was scarcely even a passing skiff in his vast sea. It
could never be long enough, but then could anything?
‘Why is it?’ he
asked, ‘why has this happened?’
‘Because inventing humans was undoubtedly feckless
and mixing up humans and elves was a monstrous crime against nature… ’
‘Do you mean that?’
Dom asked
‘Well yes, I do’
chuckled Castanus, ‘but I really don’t mind being a monster; particularly as
it’s no-one’s fault’
‘Except our parents,’
muttered Dom ‘who clearly couldn’t control themselves’
Castanus shook his
head. He almost looked cross.
‘Really, Dominic,
don’t be so ungracious. My parents loved
each other deeply, and so did yours…’
‘How can you know
that?’
‘Because producing a
mule requires a lot of love’
Dom looked confused.
Castanus grimaced in mock embarrassment.
‘How can I put this
delicately? Well… umm… the probability of… conception…. is only about one in a
thousand; and so that only happens when
people love each other a lot, I’d imagine…’
‘Oh’ said Dom, ‘I
didn’t realise that…’
‘Anyway, I knew your
parents extremely well, and trust me, they were unbearably inseparable, bless
‘em’
‘I believe you…’
said, Dom, still slightly petulantly, ‘but ours is not an inheritance that I
would have chosen freely’
‘Well, most
inheritances are a mixed blessing, and who knows what ours will bring. We do
have, however, as long is necessary to find out, of course…’
Castanus’s gaze was fixed
on Dom’s. His eyes still gleamed but his jovial face was lined with concern.
‘I know this is hard
to bear, but barring catastrophe I will always be here, gods-son. I promised
your mother and father that I would look after you, and I plan to fulfil that
promise’
‘And you still won’t
tell me who they were, despite everything?’
Castanus, who was
still standing, drained the glass one more time.
‘No, dear boy, I won’t
and I can’t – not even after three glasses of hooch. It was a sacred promise, but
I will help in any other way that I can…’
Dom finally got to
the bottom of his own glass and stood up. It was time to wade back into time’s
swift stream, which mortals are foolish enough to think is all there is of
reality. He refocused his mind. He had expected his gloom to linger on him, but
to his surprise, his spirits were rising again. He knew that that might just be
the alcohol, but nonetheless, he still had a job to do.
‘Actually, that’s why
I’m here.’ he said, smiling, ‘beloved and venerable gods-father: I need a favour’
