Ydnas: The Girl of the Prophecies Page 2

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  “I found myself in a place of love.”

  (from the popular song, “Finding Myself”)

  The Fabulist had a warm feeling about having brought Kor and Ydnas to a safe and friendly place, and about having spared them most of the details of their grueling five-day journey. At the same time, he felt familiar doubts about the world that he had created. Could he be proud of a world in which little children were sold as slaves? Why did his creation have to contain so much ugliness, suffering, stupidity, and evil? Was there some dark, malevolent side in himself? Certainly no one was under as much temptation as he, for his power was absolute, and he could be called to account by no one but himself.

  He wasn’t sure he could do better, though, for whenever he tried to imagine some more perfect world, he failed. Would it be a world without pain or problems? What would people do in such a world? It would be easy enough to create a world in which numberless people floated in pure bliss forever, wanting and doing nothing, but such an idea seemed to him terrible rather than wonderful.

  He also worried about his characters. He had complete power over them. They were his slaves. They were worse than slaves, they were puppets, they were phantoms; they thought and acted as though they had being and will of their own, but really, they had none. ‘How bizarre of me,’ thought the Fabulist, ‘to create such trivial beings. But perhaps I can redeem myself: as each one develops his own character, I will simply have that character play itself out; I will not interfere. Then they will be independent.’

  Unfortunately, he had doubts about his ability to do that. If a character he liked were threatened by one that he considered evil, would he be able to just stand aside? Or, would he even be able to let such a situation come up, if he was not willing to intervene?

  Perhaps this was a bad idea, he thought; perhaps I should stop now, before I get any more attached to Kor and Ydnas and the others. But he felt that it was already too late to stop; he had created them, and he could not just abandon them, trapped in their last frozen moment of time. To be sure, they were not real; but then, was the Fabulist himself, real? How could he ever know?

  He was also worried about where it all was going; was there some point to it, or would it just be one thing after another? He had ideas about that, but they were vague; he was hoping that they would clarify themselves as he went along. Besides: if he was really going to set them free, how could he hope to predict the outcome? He would just have to wait and see. He feared this would make for a long and disorganized story.

  With a sigh of resignation, he turned back to Kor and Ydnas. He decided that at first, when the inner door had opened, Ydnas had shrunk back into the shadows. But the sight of so many happy children was the one thing that could convince her that at last, she had found herself in a place of safety. At first tears wet her cheeks, but after she had watched for a moment, her mouth trembled into the beginnings of a smile.

  Kor’s head emerged from the hill of children, and whistled shrilly for silence; then she performed the best introduction she could. “This is the child I went to get,” she said. “She doesn’t speak our language, and I do not even recognize hers, but I believe she is called ‘Ydnas.’ Come here, please, Ydnas,” said Kor, smiling and gesturing, “and I will introduce you to the others.” Ydnas came shyly forward, and Kor proceeded to introduce them all. There were too many names and faces for Ydnas to remember, especially since she found many of their names difficult to pronounce, but she was struck by two: a boy of about thirteen, with pale blue hair and a deep purple complexion, named “Sronk,” and an older girl, three-eyed, blonde, and very tall, named “Intipisk.” All the children were barefoot and dressed in patchwork clothes. Their hair was cut short and they were generally without ornament of any kind, except for a few tattoos and some scarification.

  “Now,” said Kor, “as you can well imagine, Ydnas and I are in need of three things: food, a bath, and sleep, in that order. Will there be any problem with that?”

  “No, no,” replied one of the older boys, “we have been simmering soup and keeping bathwater hot ever since the ninth day, as you suggested.”

  “Thank you, Tak, I knew you would,” said Kor, smiling warmly at him. “Let’s go into the kitchen.”

  Going down a short hall and turning left, and followed by a crowd of curious children, Kor guided Ydnas to the kitchen, which was full of warmth, and of the pleasant fragrance of soup that simmered in a big black kettle. Kor took a bent but serviceable ladle from a rack, two crude earthenware bowls from a cupboard, and a pair of roughly-carved wooden spoons from a drawer, and doled out some thick soup for herself and Ydnas. It steamed as it plopped into the bowl. Ydnas stared at it with wide and fascinated eyes. “Be careful, Dearie,” Kor said to Ydnas, waggling her finger in warning. “It is hot. Hot!” She pantomimed putting the tip of her finger in the soup, snapping it back with a dismayed expression, and blowing on it. Ydnas looked the tiniest bit amused. Then Kor took a spoonful of her soup and blew dramatically on it, before very tentatively putting it to her lips. Finding it cool enough, she took it in and swallowed it, making an exaggerated expression of relish. Ydnas did the same, pausing especially long to taste a tiny bit of the soup before she took the rest from her spoon. Then she began to eat steadily, until she had eaten three bowls.

  “Now, Intipisk,” said Kor to the tall, three-eyed girl, “would you mind? Please take Ydnas to the bathroom with the statue of Isiliar. I will use the one upstairs; if there is any problem, send someone to fetch me.”

  “I will,” said Intipisk, who was clearly very eager to welcome their new housemate, and to get to know her. At first, Ydnas was a bit reluctant to leave Kor, but Kor made it clear with smiles and gestures that Ydnas had nothing to fear, and finally she was willing to follow Intipisk through a couple of rooms and passageways, down a short flight of stairs, and along another corridor, until they came to a room with a large stone tub. As Intipisk got home-made soap and a cloth and towels from some cupboards, and verified with gestural language that Ydnas understood the significance of these things, Tak and two other boys appeared with steaming kettles of water, which they emptied into the tub with great gusto. Two hundredbreaths later, they appeared with more, including a lidded one which they left on a small stove beside the tub, with a dipper beside it. Meanwhile, Intipisk had lit several aromatic candles, and the room began to fill with the fragrance of lilac.

  After the boys had gone, Intipisk pantomimed, “Just call me if you need me,” and also left. Ydnas removed her clothes; this was a bit tricky, as her underclothes had in a number of places become amalgamated with scabs from various injuries. She found the water so hot that she had to enter it gradually; but then it was wonderfully relaxing. The tub had been designed with a slope, so that she could lie with her head and shoulders on a soft place and relax completely without having to worry about her face going under. She felt a soft tingling: the soap, which Intipisk had already placed on an underwater shelf, seemed to be cleaning her body without the need for any scrubbing on her part. As she relaxed more and more, she heard a tinkly, high-pitched music. Looking up, she saw an intricate wind chime hanging from the ceiling, played by the warm air rising from the bath.

  As she lay in such warm and pleasant surroundings, Ydnas came close to dozing off, but that made her anxious, and motivated her to complete the bath. Moving to a deeper part of the tub, she scrubbed herself, gently but thoroughly, including her hair. Then she lifted the drain-plate and climbed out. Drying herself with the huge and fuzzy towel that Intipisk had provided, she reached for her clothes, but noticed that Intipisk had laid out a set of patchwork clothes similar to those worn by the other children. After a long pause, she examined them carefully, and decided to wear them instead, transferring a few small objects from the pockets of her old clothes. She then gathered the latter, and deposited them in a wicker hamper.

  As she turned to the door, she saw an alcove that had been behind her, with a small statu
e in it. She went over to take a closer look.

  The statue was made of pear wood, with only a clear varnish for decoration. It was very realistic, and astonishingly beautiful. It showed an ancient woman, dressed in a robe of many folds, and leaning on a staff. With incredible skill, the sculptor had made the grain of the wood itself help to portray the intricate age lines of her face, and the falling folds and wrinkles of her robe. Her entire bearing radiated happiness and love. Ydnas looked surprised, like a person who has just remembered something that had long been forgotten. “Lithiel Isili!” she breathed, and stood before it for a long time, tears streaming down her face.