Steph Swainston - No Present Like Time

I propped myself up on the velvet cushions. “Tern, why Tornado? Amre, he’s stupid; demre, he can’t converse worth shit; shanre, he’s bald; larore, he’s ugly; keem he’s poor! Is that the kind of man you really like, so you don’t love me anymore? Was your pride among the possessions you lost in the fire? Keemam, is he better in bed than me or, keemdem, are you so worried that I might be beaten in a Challenge that you’re prepared to shag the whole Circle?”

Tern said, “Why did you steal my money? Can I have it back, please, or have you mainlined it all?”

I ignored this transparent attempt to change the subject. I kept pleading: “Remember when I proposed, how I brought you the filigree spider? We could go down to the Hall and dance without music, the way we did back in ’ninety-five. Come on! Wear your brooch-it can be our seventh honeymoon.”

“Ten minutes and you’ll simply collapse.”

“Come to bed then.”

“That’s not the point! Shira, you’re never here yourself!”

“I’m the Messenger! The point of my existence is to bugger off and bring back news! It’s my job!”

Tern drew the curtain across our room. I lay and watched the details of its velvet folds; they looked like letters of the alphabet.

She wiped her eyes and said quietly, “All your holidays are spent in Scree. Fighting Insects nearly burned you out-so off you go to the mountains. Do you have any women there? Even when you’re here, you’re unconscious! I knew your cycle would come around again. You can’t stay off cat-you can’t stand to be sober for more than five years. You’re not thinking about us; you are thinking about that fucking drug.”

Tern knew how to hurt me. She had observed it well over the last century and her infidelity had pushed me into addiction before. If she was not adulterous I would not be a junkie. “I took cat because I’m scared of the ships,” I said. “Everybody knows that but Ata still forced me to sail. Besides, I would rather not use cat at all than bother you with it. It’s under control.”

“That’s not always apparent.”

Well, it wasn’t always true.

Tern kept going. “Oh, for god’s sake! If I upset you, you suddenly start to notice-but you don’t think how your actions affect anyone else! I should never have married a Rhydanne.”

“Where did that come from?” I blinked.

“I don’t mean your appearance! Some things you just can’t grasp, no matter how hard you try. It doesn’t occur to you to think of anybody else, like you’re still living alone in a hovel in the mountains. When you’re away on errands do you ever think of me?”

“Yes. Yes, all the time! That whole Rhydanne thing is just bullshit. Don’t lay it on me as well now.”

“The pact-”

“Sod the pact! It’s all right in theory but neither of us can actually stand it!” In a lull between the waves of chemical pleasure I sprang to my feet and stalked around the room. I ran my hands down the embossed spines of the books on the shelves. I ended up leaning on the stone mantelpiece looking at outdated invitations to dances. Our marriage rings were smoke rings and they soon dispersed. “I’m still Eszai,” I said.

“Shira…” said she, and then fell quiet as she remembered what my name meant.

I kicked a neat hole in the bottom of the wardrobe door, then sat down cross-legged on the bearskin rug. “Yes! See how important fidelity is to Rhydanne. If you’re going to make all these unfair comparisons! I’m mostly Awian anyway!”

Tern said nothing; she had not seen me this angry for years. I stared at the ceiling, the only part of the room that didn’t spin. I understood affairs; Tern wanted the same intensity of feeling now that she had when she was young. We might have young bodies, but we have had so much experience that we can’t be young again. Tern should face it: she’s one hundred and twenty-one. She would be dead by now if it wasn’t for me, the ungrateful bitch.

“Do you drop your underwear on Tornado’s floor as well?”

“At least I don’t vomit on the floor!”

“Where do you think I’ve been? Tris and back! This is the first rest I’ve had in months; I’m serving the whole Fourlands, not just Wrought! You can’t see farther than your own nose! Having been through all that- ocean -don’t I deserve some affection from my wife? Well, I can speak a patois that Tornado will understand. I will challenge him to a duel.”

Tern laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’ll throw down the gauntlet and fight him. When I have a clear year to recover from being hospitalized. Of course he’ll rip my wings off but it’s worth it to get through to him.”

“You mad bastard,” Tern said, with something of her original admiration.

“Yes, I am. And remember, none of the mortals were. Not Sutler Laysan-”

“I didn’t-”

“Or Aster-”

“That-”

“Or Sacret Aver-”

“No!”

It was the fact that her latest affair was with an Eszai, not a mortal, that angered me so much. I would outlive the mortals and my talent reassured me; I knew that Tern would always come back. Now for the first time she had a choice. “Are you going to divorce me and marry the Strongman?”

“Jant, don’t ask such questions…I’m going now. I’ll come back when you’ve straightened out. When you can return the money you stole.”

“Money has nothing to do with this!”

“It does. Oh, it does indeed.” Her pure, sparkling voice instantly froze. She picked up the most expensive beaker from the still, turned it over and put it down thoughtfully. “I can’t keep up repayments on Wrought’s debts. I can’t afford to rebuild the foundries. With no workers in the colliery or armories, my manor is sunk.”

But I knew all that; I had always tried to help Tern. I was suddenly uncertain how to answer because I had been listening more to her voice than her words. “What are you saying?”

“Wrought will have to be leased. I considered selling but I don’t want to lose my title, so I have managed to find a tenant. A coal-quarrying, canal-building nouveau-riche Hacilith businessman. I have no idea what Lightning will think of that. But who cares? Micawater itself is not in a position to help us financially anymore.”

“But that’s terrible! How will we live?”

“Soberly. The rent will pay my creditors-thankfully credit rates for immortals are good-but there will be little left over, and I will have to live here. The man from Hacilith and his family will help me reconstruct the manor house. Until my fortune improves, he’ll reside there and also take the revenue from the armories. He’s keen to work with Eszai.”

“I bet he is. I’m sorry. I do love you, Tern.”

Tern came and placed manicured hands around my cheeks. “You look awful,” she observed, and laughed red-wine fumes into my face. She lightly kissed my cheek and I smelled her powdered skin; the scent went straight to my groin. I swept one wing across my body to hide an erection that swelled so large I thought it was trying to climb into my belly button. I might get some sex tonight, after all. “What would you say to a quick fuck?”

“Don’t push your luck, quick fuck.” And she left, bound for Tawny’s rooms.

I yelled after her, “Don’t ever come back! You’re not that important to me anyway!” I picked my needle off the floor and threw it at the dressing table. “Cat makes me feel better than you ever did!”

Ifelt as if I had a hole in the middle of my chest, and everything I am and everything I had been was draining through it until there was nothing left. I was hollowed out, utterly emptied. No smile or kindly deed I will ever perform will be rooted in myself; it will be carried out from duty rather than love. The world’s conflicts carry on, oblivious, elsewhere and unreal; from now on there was no way to connect with them. I was animated only by that sick sense of duty, because all the love had been washed away.