The Power and the Glory

Book 3 Chapter XIV: Skeletons in the Closet

Lian kept a diary which he made no attempt to hide. He wrote entries while the servants were right there. He even wrote in it when Mirio was beside him, and he knew Mirio understood Saoridhin. It was easy to assume that meant he had nothing incriminating in it. Mirio wasn't so sure. He caught a glimpse of the pages on several different occasions. It was written in the Saoridhin alphabet, yes, but the language wasn't Saoridhin.

Take today's entry for example. Lian wrote it sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Mirio's chair. Mirio read the writing over Lian's shoulder while pretending to be absorbed in his own book.

Its first sentence read, Rophledok dosde'v loddosk w'dr idrosk di r'xo e levriero e kiso gevdeky-oktio kiivk.

Not one word of that was even close to Saoridhin. Nor was it any other language Mirio knew. He considered Kazincgish, Nabevskan, Lagoeulian, Qytanth and Uvnoir, all without success.

Lian continued writing gibberish. Mirio watched for a while before he decided to risk asking about it.

"What language is that?" He tried to make the question sound as careless as possible.

If Lian was surprised he didn't show it. "It's not a language. It's a code my siblings and I invented."

Well, that wasn't really suspicious or unusual. Seitomu and Azarin had invented a code of their own when they were younger, and it was perfectly normal for someone to want their diary to be private. Yet in spite of his attempts to explain it Mirio still felt there was something strange about it.

Where did you learn that style of calligraphy? he wanted to ask. But he had an unpleasant feeling that question would open a can of worms better left undisturbed.

Lian couldn't possibly be an aristocrat. None of them would have been caught dead working as a servant in a foreign country. Mirio didn't know enough about Saoridhin accents to distinguish between them, but Abi had a very upper-class accent when she spoke her native language and Lian sounded nothing like her. Not to mention the way he was currently leaning against the wall. Deportment teachers would have a heart attack at such poor posture.

No, there was probably a very good explanation for Lian's oddities.

So why did Mirio feel like he had stumbled upon something sinister?

~~~~

Coming to Gengxin had been a mistake. It had caused more problems than the ones he'd come here to escape. Years ago Vieraneth -- or Riyeira, or Lian, or whatever his name currently was; he'd had so many identities not even he could keep track of them all -- had learnt there were only two sorts of people. Those who were useful and those who weren't. Zi Yao had changed that. He should have only been useful in the sense he gave Vieraneth a job. He should have been a temporary nuisance at most. Forgettable. Disposable.

But he wasn't. The first time Vieraneth had seen him in one of his fits, Zi Yao had reached out to him for help. Not to his servants, not to the other doctor, him. There were three certainties in Vieraneth's life. The sun rose and set, the tide went out and came in, and no one ever chose him when they could chose someone else instead. No one except Zi Yao.

And now, no one except Zi Yao and Mirio.

Zi Yao liked Lian, admired him, considered him a friend. Mirio was patient with, even friendly towards Zi Yao and made a point of talking to Lian. Mirio paid enough attention to him -- and knew enough about Saoridhlém -- to notice there were inconsistencies in his cover story. Most people didn't even acknowledge his existence long enough to hear his cover story.

For the first time in millennia Lian had a reason to want to stay somewhere and a person he wanted to protect. And thanks to someone else's stupidity the whole thing was in danger.

Let Gengxin's entire royal family kill themselves if they wanted to, just as long as they didn't harm Zi Yao. But if this curse continued then sooner or later they were going to harm Zi Yao. And that was simply unacceptable.

Mirio apparently had not taken the bait when Lian told him about the curse. Maybe he should tell him everything. If he did, maybe Mirio would help him find its caster. Maybe they would join forces to protect Zi Yao.

Or maybe Mirio would recoil from him in horror like everyone else he'd told. Lian hadn't cared what they thought. Now he found he cared a great deal what Mirio thought. For the first time he had someone he considered a friend, and he didn't want to lose him.

As he scribbled in his diary a plan took shape in Lian's mind. Mirio was clever. He'd already become curious, possibly even suspicious. Why not leave more clues for him? Let him piece them together on his own. If he did, if he figured out most of the truth without being told, then Lian could see how he reacted before confirming it.

It was time to frighten the curse's caster anyway.

Chapter Footnotes:

[1] noyo = A Seroyawan game similar to snakes and ladders.