Ian Irvine - Geomancer

‘Mother!’ Tiaan cried out, aghast. ‘How can you say such a wicked thing?’ The Histories were everything. People often tried to censor their past, but never to ignore it or wipe it away completely. To have no past was worse than having an evil one.

‘Well, it’s true. We should be thinking about the future. I wish I’d never met your father. If I hadn’t been so young and stupid I’d have refused him.’

‘What was he like? At least tell me that,’ Tiaan pleaded. ‘Can’t you see how hard it is not to know my own Histories? I hardly know who I am.’

‘He was selfish, dominating and cruel. He thought he knew better than I did. He wanted to carry me away from here – the only place I’ve ever been happy. And the fuss he made when you were born.’

‘What fuss?’ Tiaan asked eagerly.

‘He seemed to think he had rights over you. He wanted to take you home. Stupid man. They’re all stupid! They lie with you a few times and then think they have rights. They’re just tools to get children.’

‘What happened?’

‘Matron put guards at the door. He fought to get in. I had to speak to one of my other clients, an influential man. Your father was sent to the front-lines.’

‘Was he a soldier?’

‘Of course not!’ Marnie sneered. ‘What do you take me for?’

Tiaan gritted her teeth. She felt like telling her mother exactly what she took her for. ‘What happened to him?’

‘He never came back,’ said Marnie. ‘I suppose the enemy ate him.’

It was like a blow in the belly. ‘You killed him,’ cried Tiaan. ‘You killed my father!’

‘The enemy killed him. Why should he live when so many others were dying?’

‘Why should you live?’ Tiaan snapped.

‘Because I create the future!’

‘Only as long as you can have children,’ Tiaan said frigidly.

Marnie stiffened, drawing in a deep, gasping breath. So that’s what the matter was, thought Tiaan. Her life here was practically over and Marnie was terrified.

‘I’m sorry, mother. Please.’

Marnie turned her face to the wall and Tiaan knew she would get no more from her on that topic.

There was a long silence. ‘Our partners are selected carefully, you said?’

‘They’re prime specimens,’ her mother enunciated, ‘chosen for the qualities they bring to our children.’

‘But they pay?’ Tiaan persisted.

‘Of course they pay! Where do you think all this comes from?’ She swept an arm around the room.

‘Thank you, mother. You’ve told me all I need to know.’ Tiaan went to the door, which opened and an attendant came through, bearing a loaded tray – her dinner. ‘I’ll take that in my room,’ she said grandly, and sailed out.

Tiaan hugged her thoughts all the way back to her room. Her father had cared for her. He’d tried to take her away from this ghastly place. It made her feel warm inside.

Logic told her that the poor man must be dead, though she clung to the hope that he had survived, perhaps trapped in a foreign land. All the more important that she find out who he had been and learn his Histories. When she had children they must know. It was practically a crime to bring up a child without its family Histories. She wondered what qualities her father had given to her. Well, she was unlike her mother in practically every respect, so she must be a lot like her father. If Marnie would not tell her, there was only one way to find out. She would have to take another look in the bloodline register.

Tiaan sampled the pastries on her tray. They were delicious, though they left a fatty taste in her mouth and she was still overfull from her previous meal. She had to get away. She would go mad here. That thought made her smile wryly. Or end up like my mother .

She went out again, walking the halls, acutely conscious that she was naked under her gown. No one gave it a second glance – the other women wore more or less flamboyant versions of the same article.

Tiaan came down a staircase into the colonnaded marble foyer, whereupon she was stopped by an elderly man in maroon and grey livery.

‘Tiaan Liise-Mar,’ he said. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To the markets. I have some shopping to do.’

‘You may not go out unescorted. Your indenture has not been cleared.’

She whirled and stormed up the stairs, back to her mother’s room. ‘They won’t let me go out!’ she cried.

Marnie looked up irritably. ‘Of course you can’t go out. You might run away.’

‘You mean I have to stay trapped in this hideous place until I die?’

Her mother pursed her lips. ‘You are permitted to go shopping once a month with an attendant. You will, of course, wear a discreet wrist manacle.’

‘What, forever?’

‘Until your indenture is paid off.’

‘But that’s two years away, even with what I’ve got saved.’

‘The old indenture was paid out when you came here, and a new one written. All this has to be paid for,’ Marnie said. ‘Your gowns, food, attendants …’

‘Not forgetting the manacle. I suppose I have to pay for that too?’

‘Well, of course you do. Money doesn’t float in the air like butterflies.’

‘I didn’t ask for any of this.’

‘It comes with the position.’

‘How long?’ Tiaan cried hoarsely.

‘Depends on how many clients you service, how many children you bear, and how many of them survive. Some women have done it in five years, some ten or twelve, and some …’

‘Twelve years!’ Tiaan sank down on the bed in despair.

‘Tiaan, daughter. It’s a wonderful life here. You’ll soon come to love it.’

‘If it’s so wonderful, how come we have to be chained to a guard when we go out?’

Tiaan had two more days of eating, sleeping and being waited upon. Her attendants appeared three times a day, doing more work on hands, skin and nails. She hardly noticed. Tiaan had not stopped thinking about her father. It sounded as if he’d been a young man of good family. Clearly he’d loved his daughter, and Marnie had repaid him by sending him off to be killed. Every time she thought about it, tears streamed down Tiaan’s cheeks. How could she find out? There was no one to ask. Her grandmother had died nine years ago and Tiaan had no other relatives. She was never alone, even for the few minutes it would take to sneak into Matron’s office and check the register.

On her third lucid evening, Tiaan sat in silence until the attendants finished working on her hands, trying and failing to work out a plan. Tomorrow was to be her first time with a client, so she had to escape tonight. No way was she going to give herself to a man for money. There were too many of her grandmother’s romantic stories in her head. Too many dreams. As she had that thought, her first dream came back – the young man on the balcony, crying out for help. The later dreams she had had of him followed.

But were they dreams? They were different from crystal-induced ones, which were like chopped-up nightmares that vanished on waking. The young man had been much more vivid. She could remember every incident perfectly, as if they had actually happened. He must be real. And he had cried out to her for help. Her soft heart was touched. She had to find out who he was. But how could she, except through her dreams?

Maybe her artisan’s life was over, but never would she work in this disgusting place. They had no right over her, no matter what the law said. She would break out and make a new life for herself, far away. At that thought, Tiaan felt the terror of the unknown. Her whole existence had been organised for her. In the manufactory everything was taken care of and all she had to do was work. Here it would be the same. But if she fled, how would she survive? A runaway would not be welcome anywhere. Did she have the courage? She was no longer sure.