Nights of Villjamur - Mark Charan Newton [70]
It was soon obvious that even at such a young age, Verain connected with the Dawnir technology in a manner worthy of any cultist. So he decided to take her in rather than leave her on the streets of Villjamur. Ten years later, they had entered a relationship. He was flattered by the young woman’s attentions, perhaps, but when he had been immortal he found it easier that way, to be attracted to someone for their looks only, rather than connect with someone who would inevitably die before he did.
Verain smiled at him with one side of her face, as she always did. His attraction to her was mainly sexual. Being immortal meant that he would frequently lose the partners he’d form emotional ties with. None of them had wanted to live forever, even on the rare occasions when he dared to offer that gift, so he had been hurt more times than he cared to remember. It was these lighthearted, purely sexual partnerships, that brought him most pleasure, and as little pain as possible. Even now he knew he was dying.
“Some of the others are setting off to reach Tineag’l by boat,” she announced.
“Are the first lot there already?”
“Not quite, but any day now.”
“Okay,” he sighed with relief. Everything was now starting. Everything was about to be put into action. All his years of experience and study and knowledge would soon be tested; his theories, his hopes, his desires fulfilled.
“Are you feeling okay?” Verain said, noticing his exhalation.
“Do you think I wouldn’t be?”
“No. It’s just … well, things are going to change, aren’t they?”
“Of course. That’s the nature of the world.”
“I’m just worried, Dartun. You’ve been so different these past few weeks. You once said if I ever got scared I was to come to you. But what if it’s you I’m scared of?”
“Me?” Dartun laughed. “Why be scared of me, you of all people?” He walked over and took her hands in his. Then he kissed her forehead in a way that was more parental than lover.
She glanced up at him with that familiar distance in her eyes. There was a lack of understanding, he sensed—perhaps a lack of willingness in her to understand him. But maybe she couldn’t.
It was possible no one could understand him.
“Go to the others,” he said, “and tell them to prepare. Next stop, the north. Then we’ll find somewhere warmer.”
Somewhere I might recover my immortality once again.
CHAPTER 14
PEOPLE SHOWED SIGNS OF MOVING AROUND THE CITY OUT OF CONTEXT. They arrived places late, routines were disrupted, because normal routes were blocked in places. More time was needed to navigate the usual paths, and it was as if everyone had now come out of their homes simply in defiance of the longest winter they’d ever know. For many humans this extended season would be the last they would ever see. For rumel there was a greater chance of seeing the summer again, to watch for that moment when the trees and plants would explode with life.
Jeryd was annoyed that people kept stopping suddenly, right in front of him. More than once he considered delivering a small admonitory slap to someone’s head. It was always here they tended to pause, gazing around at the old Azimuth-inspired architecture, the smaller domes and intricate sandstone squares that contradicted the rest of the later additions to the city, which rose generally taller, and were hacked out of local limestone. Still,