Being an island that saw the transportation of the living and the dead (along with many travelers who could not fall into either category), Gorgossium had need of three harbors.
The harbor equipped for the construction and launching of vessels of great magnitude was at Kythevai, in the northeast. This was the harbor from which Mater Motley’s newly commissioned warship, the
For sheer volume of vessels docked and unloaded, however, the commercial harbor at Uznak, in the south of the island, was the more important.
But it was from the third and smallest of the three harbors at Vrokonkeff, that the Old Mother was presently preparing to make her departure.
The voyage she was about to take was not of enormous length; she was merely crossing to the pyramids at Xuxux. The voyage may not have been of great consequence, but it was one of great significance, and she had prepared for it by fasting for nine days, and during that time, not uttering a single word. Even now, as she dismounted from the mummified hand that had long been her preferred mode of travel, and approached the simple vessel that would carry her to the pyramids, she did not speak. Nor, out of deference to their doyen, did the seamstresses who accompanied her.
She was half way up the gangplank when there rose a commotion farther down the quayside.
“Lady! Lady!”
It was a girl called Maratien, who for some years had attended upon the Old Mother in the tower, who came racing along the dock to speak with her mistress. Several seamstresses broke ranks to stop the girl from reaching Mater Motley for fear that Maratien’s intentions might be violent.
But the Old Mother had no fear of the girl.
“Let her go,” she instructed. “She may approach. What is it, Maratien? What’s distressing you, child?”
“There’s somebody in your tower.”
“Yes, of course. I left—”
“Not any of your seamstress sisters.”
“Who then?”
“I didn’t recognize her.”
“You were sufficiently concerned to race down and warn me?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“You do know how important this voyage is?”
“I know. Of course. And forgive me for having delayed you in your great work. I meant no disrespect. Please—”
“Ssh, ssh, ssh,” Mater Motley said with an almost loving indulgence in her voice. “You did well.”
“I didn’t think—”
“I said you did well, Maratien. And so you did. There will be another tide. I will return to the tower with you.”
“What if I’m wrong?”
“Then you will have made an error and you’ll learn from it, won’t you?”
“Yes, lady.”
“Now let’s see who has come to visit me.”
Chapter 22
Turning Away
ONCE THE SMALL ROWING boat had delivered Candy and Malingo out of the maze of caves beneath Jibarish, and into the open waters of the Izabella, it had lost all power of self-will.
“Do you have any idea of what direction the Nonce is in?” Malingo said, gazing about confusedly in all directions.
Candy considered this for a long moment. A chill wind came across the waters. She shuddered.
“I can’t focus. I’m all alone in here,” she said.
Her hand went to her face. Behind it, tears came. And once they came, could not be quelled. Malingo just sat, an oar in each hand, watching her. Though his head was dropped, he kept his eyes on her.
“I would have thought you’d be happy to be rid of her,” he said.
“I am,” Candy replied. “At least I was on the island. And she’s a vile piece of work. But still, in here . . .” She tapped the middle of her forehead with her finger. “In here there’s just me and a lot of space. Too much space.”
“Everybody’s in the same situation.”
“Yes?”
“Of course.”
“Lonely?”
“Sometimes very.”
“I didn’t realize how strange it would feel, with her gone. You’re right. I’m just feeling what everybody else feels.”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands, but she’d only just done so when her sorrow overwhelmed her again and more tears came. It was as though she, Candy, was weeping for the first time, without another presence in her thoughts to help her shrug off her grief. She didn’t try to stem the flow now. She just let the tears come, talking through them.
“I thought there was enough of the real me just spread out to fill my head. That’s how it felt at first.”
“And now?”
“Now it’s like I’m sitting by a little fire in the middle of . . . in the middle . . .” The tears almost silenced her, but she pushed on through them. “. . . the middle of a huge gray
“Is it solid? The gray, I mean.”
“Does it matter?” she said, looking out over the dark waters.
A single squid, its body no longer than her foot from the tips of its tentacles to the top of its head, propelled itself past the boat, its body decorated with waves of color.
“Maybe it’s just a gray mist,” Malingo said. “Maybe it’s not empty. Maybe it’s full of things that you just haven’t seen yet.”
Candy glanced up at Malingo, who was studying her so intensely, his face so full of love she could feel its presence, a living thing, coming in to drive off her solitude. Whether he intended it or not, that’s how she felt.
“I hate girls who cry at every little thing,” she said to him, wiping her tears away for a second time, “so no more blubbering from me.”
“It’s not as if you didn’t have a reason,” Malingo replied.
“There’s always reasons, aren’t there? I’m sure all kinds of things will go wrong before I get home.”
“Back home to the Hereafter? Why go back there? You said you hated it.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Candy replied without much conviction. Then, looking back at the sea, she said, “I love being here, Malingo. Nothing would make me happier than to stay forever.”
“Then stay.”
“I can’t. The price is too high.”
“What price?”
“People’s lives. Not just Covenantis. But Mrs. Munn . . . she was almost killed too. And there’ve been plenty of others. Some of them perhaps you’d say deserved it. Kaspar Wolfswinkel. The Criss-Cross Man. A lot of stitchlings on the
“And what about the other ones whose lives you’ve changed? The people who love you? What about me? What will
Candy sighed.
