Free The Shadow and Night by Chris Walley Page A

nuisance. Everybody points you out: ‘Look, Mum, there’s a sentinel.’ It’s a tradition—not a rule—to wear it. And I choose not to. But I will wear it tomorrow.”
    Merral turned to his mother, who was still standing nearby. “Mother, will you not sit with us?”
    She shook her head, letting her braided, silver-flecked brown hair bob on her shoulders. “No, no thank you, Merral. I’d love to, really. Your father has been delayed at the depot and I really must get the rooms ready. And really, I have to finish off some things for supper and the meal tomorrow. And would you like something to drink? Perhaps another cake?” She gave him a knowing nod.
    Merral, suddenly feeling rather sheepish, wiped his mouth again. “Er, yes. Both please, Mother. I’ve been traveling since dawn.”
    She turned to their guest. “Perhaps Vero, a drink of something for you?”
    He nodded formally. “Thank you. Just a glass of your excellent water please, Lena.”
    She bowed slightly, patted Merral on the shoulder tenderly, and left the room.
    â€œAre you fasting?” Merral asked.
    The stranger’s face acquired a slightly pained look. “Not really. Over the past two weeks I have been through five Gates. And I have found out that I do not like them. I think that my stomach is still several light-years behind in Below-Space and trying to catch up. In fact, I wonder if I will ever be reunited with it.”
    â€œYou found it unpleasant? People vary, I gather.”
    â€œYes. Very disorienting. Have you ever been though a Gate?”
    â€œI’ve never even been in Farholme orbit.”
    â€œLucky you.” Vero stretched himself back in his chair and flexed his long, smooth brown fingers against each other as if concerned that they were all present and working. “Five Gates in thirteen days, Merral. There was a lot of turbulence between the Nelat Four Gate and Rustiran. You could feel the whole Normal-Space tunnel being buffeted. A weird feeling. And weightlessness wasn’t much better. Or takeoffs.” He wriggled his face in an almost childlike look of disgust.
    Merral found himself enjoying his visitor. “I have lots of questions, you know,” he said.
    Vero closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, as if trying to fight off a headache. “Ah, that I can imagine. But I’m here—well, in Ynysmant—for three days, and I promise I’ll try and answer some at least. In time. Actually, I’m here to ask questions myself.”
    â€œYou are?”
    â€œYes.”
    Merral waited in vain for any further clarification then asked, “What sort?”
    Vero flexed his fingers again, stared at them, and then smiled with wide eyes at Merral. “Ah, that is the problem. But my first question is, what sort of journey did you have?”
    Merral was just on the point of answering when his mother came back bearing a small wooden tray with two glasses of water and a plate of small cakes. She put them on the low table between the chairs and gave a glass to Vero, who bowed his head in acknowledgement.
    â€œThank you indeed.” Then he took the glass carefully, held it up toward her as if making a toast, and sipped it delicately.
    Merral’s mother smiled at him. “And it’s our honor to have you. But, not wishing to interrupt your conversation, I’d better remind you, Vero, that it’s not long before you’re expected at the house of Former Warden Prendal. There is a party, with a meal and dancing.”
    â€œYou are right, Lena.” Vero glanced at his watch. “And the evening is going. I’d better get ready. Is it far?”
    Merral put down his glass. “Ten minutes’ walk, a bit more. I’ll take you. In say, fifteen minutes?”
    â€œDone.”
    Somehow, Merral made time in those few minutes for a shower and a change of clothes. He also managed to wonder why there was