The Cat Who Knew How to Cry

4. SUSPICIONS (part 3)

"Power," Restes broke in with authority, then stared at Irson, as if expecting him to start bemoaning what a blind fool he'd been, and thanking his guest for finally opening his eyes. Except the opposite happened: that word, like a powerful counterspell, instantly obliterated all of Restes' trumped-up eloquence. Irson breathed in a chestful of air, shaking off the tension.

"Power? Tialianna and Veindor? Uncle Restes, do you even believe that yourself?"

"I do."

"And I don't," said Irson simply. "When the Nae arrived in the Infinite, they were already very, very powerful beings. No match for the local gods. There was nothing stopping them from enslaving us all. Instead they dedicated a substantial part of their sentience to the Infinite's service – to you and me and myriad other creatures. They've practically renounced their own identities. Especially Veindor. He doesn't even have an incarnation of his own lest some poor sap starts worshipping him. And you say he wants power!"

To become Tanae is to betray one's father, the words echoed in Irson's skull. Uttered aloud, this secret, innermost, scathing feeling suddenly lost its hypnotizing power over him. Irson suddenly remembered an episode from his childhood. He was struggling to fall asleep; he kept seeing some kind of furry shadow by the window – snarling, scratching itself, scraping at the floor with its claws. Mustering his courage, he flicked on the lights. Alas, the shadow wasn't some harmless laundry basket – puttering about in the corner was a wild igshaag, the same one that had slain the neighbor's goat and bitten off the blacksmith's daughter's finger. Then, rather than tremble like a leaf and dart from the room like mad, Irson felt tremendous relief. He snatched a small knife off the table and attacked the foul predator first. In an instant, the tiny feeble frame of a frightened child was transformed into the strong, lean, agile body of a young Tanae. Presently he was feeling a nearly identical sensation.

"Don't tell me you believe those stories about the selfless Nae?" asked Restes, sensing his grip on the conversation slip away.

"Aye, I do. I see the priests of Veindor, Tialianna and even Alasais bending over backwards to make life in the Infinite even slightly more bearable," said Irson heatedly. "One of Alasais' Shadows comes here sometimes, and I see with my own eyes how those like her sacrifice themselves so that one of us could find himself, his calling, his home. Nae forbid you ever experience a fraction of what she goes through!"

Recalling Aniallu, Irson walked around the table, leaned against it and casually, as if by chance brushed against one of the cuff links – the sianae's present. So it was – Restes was trying to influence his mind with magic. And then he claims it's Tialianna who manipulates and craves power! The Tanae tested the sincerity of his guest's words and was stunned by the cuff link's unequivocal answer: they were coming from the heart.

Restes, in the meantime, was getting ready to leave.

"Listen, Irson. I shouldn't have unloaded all this on you out of the blue. I'm sorry. You probably have a lot to think about. Perhaps your mind will change. In fact, I'm almost certain of it, my boy," he said, already by the door.

Irson waited for the portal to close after Restes, then went back inside and slowly shut the door.

The guest wasn't gone more than half an hour when the Tanae began to curse himself mercilessly. What an oaf he was to lose his cool! He thought at the time that he was battling his own delusion that had been poisoning his life for many years. And that turned Restes – a living person and one of his father's oldest friends (who was himself, quite possibly, genuinely confused), as well as someone who could have led him to this underground group of... Nae-haters, into the living manifestation of those same delusions! If not their very perpetrator! Scaly cretin! If only he had sniffed out where Restes had caught the bug! Because if there was one thing Irson sensed very clearly, it was that behind Restes stood something truly powerful. And, by the looks of it, very dangerous.