Troy Denning - Faces of Deception

The Sannyasi's milky face grew sad. "Even here," he replied, "death is the inevitable consequence of life."

"Jalil was a child!" Seema protested, shaking her head. "His time should not have come for many years."

"And you know this how?"

"By the pain in my heart"

"Ahh… then your heart has misled you." The Sannyasi's pure voice grew sterner as he continued, "It is not for you to say who will live any more than it is for you to say who will die. You left the valley to find a cure, and Jalil died anyway. The wisdom of a healer lies in knowing what can be changed and what cannot. To claim more is to usurp the powers of the Serene Ones."

Seema's expression grew apprehensive. "That was not my intention," she said.

"But that was the result," the Sannyasi said, then took Seema's shoulders and pulled her close, folding her inside his wings. "Seema Indrani, your vanity has cast a shadow on your soul and brought anger and violence into Langdarma. Your magic has become a burden you can no longer bear. I free you of it"

When the Sannyasi opened his wings, Seema looked weary and dejected. Without raising her gaze, she nodded and stepped back.

"As you will have it, Sannyasi," she said.

"No!" Atreus exclaimed, sitting up and facing the Sannyasi. "She did nothing wrong. You can't punish Seema for saving us."

The Sannyasi gently pushed Atreus back down and said, "I am not punishing her. Until Seema lifts the shadow on her soul, her magic is only a trap. It will poison her thoughts with vanity and folly, and she will bring more wickedness down on us all." The Sannyasi turned to Seema will watch over Atreus and his companions during their stay in Langdarma. If they do no harm and come to none themselves, your magic will return."

Seema bowed her head.

"Your wisdom shines like the sky, Sannyasi."

The Sannyasi smiled benignly, turned to Atreus, and said, "You and your friends may rest in Langdarma until you are well enough to travel. I ask only that you observe our customs, and that you speak no angry words inside Langdarma."

Atreus nodded.

The Sannyasi folded his wings tightly behind his shoulders. This will be difficult for you, but I know you will try." His silver eyes softened. He leaned down to touch Atreus's shoulders and continued, "And I am sorry for the grief you will feel after you leave."

"What grief?" Yago demanded from the corner.

"You will be tormented by the memory of paradise," the Sannyasi answered, continuing to look at Atreus. "There is nothing I can do to ease this burden."

"I wouldn't want you to," said Atreus. "Better to have the memory than nothing at all."

"You will come to think differently." The Sannyasi shook his head sadly, then laid his milky palm over Atreus's eyes. Now sleep. You must rest if you are to heal."

Atreus could not have disobeyed if he wanted to. Even before the sentence was finished, the Sannyasi's dulcet voice had lulled him into a dreamless trance. Atreus's eyelids fell, his breathing slowed, and he sank into a deep, vitalizing slumber.

Atreus passed the next three days on that same sleeping pallet, staring up at the plank ceiling or gazing out through the window at an unchanging panorama of looming cliffs and forested hills. Every morning he was awakened by the sound of groaning yaks and clanging bells as the herders drove their beasts out to pasture, and every evening he was lulled to sleep by laughing voices as they returned. During the day, he occasionally heard someone talking out in the street, though his window faced the wrong way for him to see who they were. Seema came five times a day to feed him and change his bandages. Though she often lingered longer than necessary, Atreus found it difficult to make conversation, feeling at once guilty about her sacrifices on his behalf and angry with her for deceiving him about Langdarma's existence.

At Atreus's insistence, Yago and Rishi spent most of their time touring the wonders of the valley, returning each evening so weary they barely had the energy to describe their adventures. The explorations seemed to take a heavy toll on Yago especially, as Langdarma's customary fare of grains, legumes, and yak cheese were poor substitutes for charred meat and sour mead. Although the ogre could easily have supplemented his diet with a few rabbits or deer, he observed his promise to the Sannyasi and refrained from hunting anything more lively than blackberries. Rishi also seemed to honor the hospitality of their hosts, if only because the people of Langdarma lived very simply and had nothing to steal.

On the fourth day, Atreus was strong enough to move out onto a small wooden balcony overlooking the tiny hamlet where Seema made her home. From his chair, he could look out across the stone huts down to the meadows where the villagers grazed their yaks and the terraced slopes where they grew their peas and beans. A small gully curled around below the terraces, marking the boundary between the village lands and the forested slope that led down to the stone-walled fields in the basin's fertile bottomland.

Late in the afternoon, Atreus was staring out across the fields, trying to imagine where he might find the Fountain of Infinite Grace, when Seema came out and sat beside him. She was carrying no food or bandages, and her manner was unusually reserved. For a long time she simply sat there and followed his gaze across the valley until he grew — nervous and began to imagine she had somehow sensed what he was searching for.

When she finally spoke, it was without looking at him.

"Truly it is a miracle how just sitting and gazing out at Langdarma can heal one's soul. I was hoping it might also heal what has come between us."

The comment itself did not surprise Atreus nearly so much as his reaction to it. He suddenly felt bitter and resentful, and he heard himself say, "That is a strange thing hear from someone who tried to convince me Langdarma does not exist"

Seema recoiled from the acid in his voice, and said, "Did you not promise the Sannyasi you would speak no angry words here?"

Atreus felt another rush of anger well up inside him but managed to bite his tongue and say nothing until it passed.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, "that's true, but you did tell me that Langdarma was only a myth."

Seema's golden cheeks darkened to a tarnished bronze.

"Yes, I lied to you. I had hoped by now you would understand why."

"I understand." Despite his promise to the Sannyasi, Atreus could not keep the bitterness out of his voice. He touched a finger to his hideous cheek and said, "I have understood my whole life. My mistake was in thinking you were different than people elsewhere."

Seema looked at her hands. "I do not know how people are elsewhere," she said, "but I did not lie to you because of how you look."

" Don't insult me," Atreus told her, then waved his hand at the lush forest below. "Everything is beautiful in Langdarma, and I am ugly. I know why you didn't want me here."

Now Seema's voice took on an angry edge. "That is not so. You saw the Sannyasi's anger for yourself."

Atreus shrugged and said, "What's the difference? Whether you found me too ugly or simply knew the Sannyasi would, the result was the same."

"You are not ugly. It is only that you do not belong here. The Sannyasi's concern is for your welfare and Langdarma's."

Atreus rolled his eyes and looked toward a swarm of scarlet butterflies dancing among the white blossoms of a plum tree.

Seema stood and came to his chair. "If you were ugly," she asked, "would I do this?"

Taking Atreus's cheeks in her hands, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, and this time she was not trying to breathe for him. There was nothing friendly or modest in the kiss. Her mouth was warm and liquid and charged with ardor, and Atreus began to feel stirrings he had only dreamed of. His hands rose of their own accord and grasped her shoulders, drawing her down onto his lap. She did not resist. He pulled her close, mashing her body close to his, feeling her wonderful softness against his lumpy brawn, so lost in passion that when he heard a sudden peculiar hissing sound, he did not even recognize it as his own voice. Seema cried out and jumped out of the chair.