Nights of Villjamur - Mark Charan Newton [90]
It seemed our friend Ghuda had been an Ovinist.
Jeryd didn’t understand the significance of Ghuda’s connection to that underground religion, nor did he have any clue about what the lettering meant on the accompanying parchment taken from the statue. Back in his apartment, he contemplated these items at length.
After a while, he dropped another log on the fire, took a break to look out of the window. Nighttime again, and, despite the cold, Villjamur vibrated with activity. Off-duty soldiers had come thronging in search of company for the evening. They staggered between taverns and street corners, bellowing and whistling into the chilly air. Such intemperance was becoming more noticeable as the Freeze became a reality. Youths climbed on walls to throw snow at citizens. Running footsteps faded into the distance. In the neighboring buildings, squares of light emerged at the higher levels as lanterns were lit for the evening. As his eyes focused, Jeryd noticed figures appear at these windows, gazing out across the city, perhaps staring right back at him. Directly below his own window, he suddenly noticed Marysa approaching quickly, wrapped in a thick winter cape, returning from her day of study in the library. As he waited for her to come in, he sat down at the table.
A moment later, she pushed the study door open with some force. She was breathless from her rapid progress, and walked straight toward the fire.
Jeryd rose to greet her, squeezed her cold hands gently. “How was your day?”
“Rumex, I swear someone was following me.” Her dark eyes were wide with panic, her tail twitching anxiously from side to side.
“Following you?” His tone became serious. “Please, sit down and I’ll make some tea. Tell me, what did you see?”
“I’d prefer some whisky.” Marysa sat down at the table.
As he handed her the glass, she continued, “I didn’t get a good look at him. Every time I turned to look, he’d be gone. I know it sounds silly, but I swear that someone was there.”
Jeryd placed a hand on her cold knee as he sat alongside her. “You’re not being silly, because these are strange times. How did you first realize you were being followed?”
“Footsteps—always the same footsteps. I’m not going mad, I swear.”
“It’s all right,” Jeryd soothed, giving her a look that confirmed he knew she wasn’t making it up. He hugged her more tightly.
She sipped her whisky with urgency. “Who could it be?”
For a moment he wondered if it had something to do with his own work. Perhaps someone was frightening her to get at him? He kissed Marysa’s hand reassuringly, and she curled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. The intimacy made him feel like they were a couple again, that he could look after her. There was something so reassuring about this, and it affected him deeply.
He had no plans to let her go for the best part of an hour.
CHAPTER 19
SHROUDED DELICATELY IN LANTERN LIGHT, TUYA RESTED HER HANDS ON the windowsill to gaze out through the night. The window was open slightly and, because she wore only a white silk evening robe, the stirred air rose the hairs on her arm. The moonlight from Astrid was now concealed only slightly. Pterodettes arced upward toward the nearby cliffs as a few pedestrians stalked the frozen streets hunched up in thick clothing. Not a time to be out. Why could she never connect to Villjamur? What was it that made her think she belonged outside the city?
She thought she could even hear refugees huddled outside the gates, in the icy conditions. Maybe it was her imagination, but the thought ceaselessly saddened her. Surely there was no need for them to remain outside?
She considered what Councilor Ghuda had revealed to her that night, which perhaps other than the councilors