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“She left before I was created.” He shrugged.
“Do you know anything else about her?”
“Two things.”
“Then can you tell them to me?”
“I could, but I’m not sure if I want to.”
“Why?”
“Well, I was just born yesterday, you know.”
I tried to think of a solution in the simplest way possible. “If I promise to introduce you to a music teacher, will you tell me?”
He leaned in. “What is a music teacher?”
“Someone who can impart on you the ability to create music whenever you want so you never have to feel lonely again.”
His black eyes lit up with hidden fire. “Does such a miraculous creature really exist?”
“Of course,” I said, “without music teachers, it would be impossible to impart the melodies of previous generations to newer ones.”
“It’s a deal!” he exclaimed, not even stopping to consider why I might have made this proposal to begin with.
“Then, as I so politely requested of you, what are the two things about this woman or beast that can make even a God feel loneliness?”
“First,” The Shadow began, “I know that because of her the God gave up both his name and previous position, becoming the nameless God of Shadows due to her sin.”
“Her sin?”
“That’s the second thing.” The Shadow looked far away. “I have heard it said that this woman’s sin is the reason no female non-human creatures such as the Strigaix are born.”
“But what did she do?”
“I dunno.” He wobbled a knee. “It happened long before I was created.”
“I see.” My voice trailed off.
The Shadow opened his mouth, but before he could ask another question, a blood slave entered. She looked to be in her forties and fifties, perhaps a higher ranked one delegated to secretarial duties. After all, it was said that Shareth’s beloved had an unexplainable fondness for the capable ones he tolerated.
She adjusted her spectacles. “Councilman Shareth will see you now.”
I called to The Shadow, “Let’s go.”
“But I have more questions.”
“Ask them later. We need to go.” I enunciated each word to keep from yelling. It would seem my sense of irritation was returning, oh joy of joys.
He must have understood because he followed without argument.
When we entered, Shareth stood there. He wore the colors of his clan: gold and green like the forests which surrounded Talgazmear, but unlike the current fashions his straight dark hair was cut to his neck. Instead of greeting him like I should have, I beelined for the wall behind his desk.
“What are you—” Shareth spun and rushed at The Shadow, who was about to poke a porcelain vase on a tall accent table. “Don’t touch that! That was a gift from my Beloved!”
Ignoring them, I knocked on the wall while muttering, “Three and carry the two until the four.”
A small square block slid up to reveal a small wooden cube.
