Glenda Larke - The Heart of the mirage

I shuddered. I was the outsider, the expendable one. Who would care? Temellin, when he believed the sacrifice was necessary and others called for my death, as they most certainly would? Pinar would actively pursue my murder, I had no doubt of that. Quite apart from the prompting of her jealousy, sacrificing me and my child might save her own hide if ever she conceived Temellin's child.

J won't do it, I thought. No one is going to kill me. I won't let them. And I am not going to run away, either.

You are the Miragerin… Words whispered in the sand. 'There's something that doesn't quite -' I

began, and then stopped. Could the Magoroth be wrong? Could I not be the other woman they had mentioned – Sarana? 'I want to talk to – to Zerise would be best, I think. Can you get her for me, Brand?'

'Certainly. If I don't get lost, that is. Damn place has more passageways than a fish has scales.'

I continued to stand at the window after he had gone, but I wasn't seeing the view. I was back in the Shiver Barrens, hearing the song of the Mirage Makers, trying to fan a spark of hope. Anything was better than the alternative.

An hour later, Brand entered with a heartfelt look at me indicating he had indeed managed to lose himself. He ushered Zerise in and then left us. The Illusa moved through the dimness of the room to the table and lit the candle there. I didn't see what she did, but she used her cabochon to do it. When she spoke, her voice was gentle. 'We didn't understand at first,' she said. 'We all thought you would be glad. To be the sister of the Mirager -'

'You knew he was also my lover?'

'We do now. We do not feel your revulsion. Such unions are usually blessed with a lasting love. The children of sibling unions are also much blessed. You and Temellin are the children of such a union -'

'Oh, sweet Melete help me! My parents?' I wanted to be sick. I warred with my body to halt the reflex, to keep the food in my stomach. Inbred! And my son… the grandchild of siblings, the child of siblings, inbred to a point of insanity.

'Temellin is the strongest Magori we have,' Zerise said. 'His powers are strong within him, as yours will be when you are taught how to use them. There is nothing wrong with such a union, Magoria-shirin. A marriage between you would be cause for great

happiness, and your children would be very, very special. Perhaps the greatest Magoroth ever born. Healthy, intelligent and Magor-strong.'

But I didn't want to hear. I said, 'This other Magoria, this Sarana -'

'If she had lived she would be Miragerin, and Mirager-temellin would not hold the sword of the Mirager. She was your cousin, the only child of your oldest uncle, Mirager-solad. There were five siblings, you know: Solad who was the eldest, then a brother and a sister, Ebelar and Niloufar, who were Sarana's and Temellin's parents, then another brother who was Korden's father, and finally another sister, who was Pinar's mother. Sarana was the heir, but she died before the Madrinya Shimmer Festival massacre. The massacre was not the first attack on our people; it was just the worst.'

I was stilled, remembering the expression on Temellin's face when he had thought I might be Sarana; remembering the emotion that had twisted his voice. He had almost hated me then. Wryly, I thought to myself that here was something else we shared besides a love of power: a marked reluctance to relinquish the power we had. I asked, 'There is no possibility -?'

'None.' She shook her head sadly. 'It was a terrible time, Magoria. The Mirager worshipped his daughter from the moment of her birth. Some said she was his obsession. Her mother, Magoria-wendia, thought so. She thought the Mirager was ruining their daughter to the point of idiocy, and I must say I agreed with her. Sarana was fast becoming an unpleasant little brat. Wendia decided to take the child and leave Madrinya. She wasn't the Miragerin-consort – Solad wasn't married – so it wasn't all mat hard for her to go. Unfortunately her howdah was ambushed and

everyone in her party was killed. I thought the Mirager might die with grief when he realised Sarana had died.'

I interrupted. 'But if Wendia and Solad weren't married, how could Sarana be the heir?'

'The first-born child of the ruler is the heir, no matter who the other parent is, as long as the child is a Magoroth and as long as the ruling Mirager or Miragerin acknowledges the child as theirs. That is Magor law. We put no store by a child's legitimacy as Tyranian law does.' She snorted. 'They try to tell us their laws are better, but we will never acknowledge their ways. Why should a child be robbed of his birthright because his parents did not marry?'

'So if Sarana had lived, she would have become Miragerin. Is there anyone else who might use that tide?'

'Well, the official consort of the ruling Mirager. If you were to marry Mirager-temellin, you would be Miragerin-shirin, the Miragerin-consort. And then there is the mother of the heir. Even if she is not the consort, she is honoured with the title of Miragerin. And then finally there's the mother of the Mirager. Your mother, yours and Temellin's, would have been termed Miragerin-niloufar, had she lived.'

The mother of the heir. Oh, Acheron's hells, I thought. My son will be Mirager in this land. I wasn't Sarana, but I truly was Miragerin anyway, just as the Mirage Makers said. I was the mother to the heir, the unborn heir. They had known that… Then a new thought blasted me. Until the baby was born, / was Temellin's heir. I was his younger sister, and the Kardis made no distinctions between the sexes where their ruler was concerned.

If Temellin died, Ligea Gayed, Legata Compeer of the Brotherhood, would be regarded by the Kardis as

their rightful ruler. I gave an ironic laugh that hiccupped into a sob. I should kill him. Then, as the Miragerin-ruler, I could bring the Magor down in ways they could never have dreamed of… and reap such glory in Tyr there would be statues of me built in the Forum Publicum. My success would be a legend handed down to the next generations. Was this the triumph Rathrox and Bator Korbus had schemed to achieve? They'd wanted me to kill or capture the Mirager. And then perhaps they'd planned to tell me who I was – and plant me, obedient and loyal Ligea, on the Kardis as their rightful ruler. A grateful vassal, to do as I was told by Tyr.

Goddessdamn. The Oracle. Of course. They'd aimed to give my future an apparent spiritual dimension, to seed me with a sense of destiny by sending me to the Oracle. How had the poem run?

'All power in her wide embrace,

None will again deny

Ligea Gayed her rightful place.'

My rightful place. Miragerin of Kardiastan. Goddessdamn.

Zerise was watching me, mystified. 'My child -. why do you cause yourself so much grief? Your love for the Mirager is blessed. Accept it. Go gladly to his arms. Bear his children. Why cling to the laws of a land that was never really yours? You are Kardi; you are Magor; rejoice in it!' Her voice had an edge to it now, an intensity matching the rest of her. She shot out a bony hand to grip my arm. 'You have a duty to the Magor. We all have! Look at me, Magoria – I was a nurse, a children's nurse – can you see that when you look at me now? I doubt it. I haven't been a nurse

since I had to wade through children's blood, carrying the only two babies I could save, both Theuros children, my own face smashed beyond repair. Now I fight. My cabochon will burn a legionnaire to ashes one day – I, who only wanted to care for my babies. Your duty comes before your wishes, Magoria.'

I swallowed bile and said, 'Ask Brand to come in, will you, Illusa-zerise?'

She heard the dismissal and the fire damped down. Yet, just as she was on her way out, she turned back. She wanted to say something, started to say it, but changed her mind. A most extraordinary expression skittered across her face. It was so fleeting I wasn't sure I'd seen it, yet I was left with the feeling I had glimpsed a dismay so profound it bordered on panic. Then she was gone.