Moonlight

Moonlight

Chapter 13

What are you going to do with me?" Ciara hissed angrily as she was being pulled along. Ian took her to the small wilderness behind the building, making a path for them through the high grass. It reminded her of the past, although she had never been dragged against her will then, but she said nothing, curious about his intentions.

He paused when the blue of the river suddenly glinted right before them. "Sit down, Ciara," he said, but succeeding in not making it an order.

Ciara sat down. An order she would not have obeyed, but it had been more like a question. Ian began to take off his shirt. "Ian, what are you doing?" she said as soon as she noticed.

"Wait," was all he said. He removed his undershirt and pulled his shirt back on.

Somehow that was a pity, Ciara thought as she watched him hold the undershirt in the stream. She did not understand why he was doing that.

"You'd agree with me that it's nicer talking to a person whose expressions are not hidden under a thick layer of paint?" he asked and handed her the wet shirt.

Surely there were better ways to clean a face than with a shirt? He could have asked her if she had a handkerchief. She did not, but that was beside the point. "It might ruin your shirt," she warned him. It would wash off, but she did not say so.

"And your attitude is going to ruin my bond with Meri," he replied. "I know your attitude is partly my fault, but that ridiculous paint is making it worse."

Ciara wondered if he wanted to talk to her in a calm manner then. She would not object if he was willing to listen to her arguments without calling them nonsense. Perhaps she should be wise. "All gone?" she asked when she had wiped her face thoroughly.

"No."

"Do the rest yourself if it bothers you," she shrugged.

He wiped it with an inscrutable face. "That's better." But his shirt was covered with black stains now. Ciara took off her cloak, grabbed his shirt and stepped into the water. She went completely under with it a few times to Ian's amazement and then calmly lay down on the bank. The shirt was as good as clean.

"Talk to me, Ian. I'm prepared to listen," she said with her eyes closed. There was enough time. It would take a while before she was dry enough to venture out on the streets without drawing any attention.

"Why did you never let me know?" he asked quietly. It was hot, but why she had stepped into the river was beyond his comprehension. One thing he concluded was that she would lie here until she dried up and he should take advantage of that.

Her body shuddered as if in pain and she curled her hands into fists. "I couldn't. We explained that."

But he had not considered the reason to be a very strong argument. "Yes, but…"

"Ian, if I hadn't cared, she would have died. Why can't you see that?" Ciara asked in a low voice. "I'm not exaggerating. If you don't want to believe it, it's no use talking to me. You don't want me in Meri's life, do you? But isn't she old enough to decide for herself? It wouldn't be at your expense."

Ian breathed with difficulty. She was right -- that was what he was most afraid of. "But she's my daughter." She was all he had and he did not want to lose it. Neither did he want to see her hurt and he did not know if he could trust Ciara not to do that.

Ciara opened her eyes. She liked him for that, how annoying. Why was she beginning to see good things in him at the point when he was against her most? She stared at the sky sadly. "I understand." Perhaps she would say the same in his position, but while she could understand his point of view, she also wanted to try and change it. Honestly, she was not bad and he would have to see that.

He was staring at the reddish brown drops slowly rolling from her hair over her forehead and ears onto the grass. "Are you bleeding?"

"My heart. Nothing else, I think." She wanted to see her daughter and he would not let her. Otherwise she was fine.

Her heart? Why should that bleed? "Your hair drips in colour."

Ciara frowned, trying to figure out what he meant. "I dyed it. My mother always dyes her hair red. I tried it once, but it washes out the first time you wash it."

"So I might never have found you," he mused. "I was looking for a redhead."

"A day longer and I wouldn't have been one anymore," she agreed. "Curse Miloel for discovering that the necklace went missing and for being such a prig as to report it." She had tried to dissuade him from it, but he had insisted.

He could have known that her hair was not naturally red. If only he remembered more. Had he pushed it away? Just like he had pushed away that he had ever felt more for her. He felt it no longer, that would be ridiculous, but he would not even admit that he had felt it once, Ian thought. He glanced at her outstretched figure. Who was she anyway? Wearing disguises, painting her face and hair, and meeting her lovers under assumed names? One could not feel anything for someone unreal. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turned into a frog," he said.

"Heh?" This was a little beyond Ciara.

"Who says you're really a woman named Ciara? Nothing about you has been true so far. You keep turning up in disguises," Ian said a little plaintively. Who could tell what she was going to do next.

"Well, that doesn't make me a frog."

"Maybe you can turn yourself into one."

Ciara sat up in annoyance. She thought he had been a skeptic. "I don't have any powers you don't have. If you can't turn yourself into a frog, then I can't either. I have to wear disguises in order to disguise that I have no powers. Don't you see that? If I look very odd and mysterious, people are going to think I'm not like them and they'll believe I can do special things. Some know it's a scam, but most don't. They believe what they're told. I'm an actress."

Ian stared at her. "You should believe in what you do."

"I do," she smiled. "Just not all of it. People need guidelines, but I'm not blinded. I'd never abuse that for some evil cause. That's why we're handpicked by the previous High Priestess and not by the clerks and Wise People. They're not earthly enough. They really believe in the good of sacrifices, for instance. They don't see the moon as a symbol, but they think it has eyes and a mind and that I can be married to it. You're supposed to arrest people who say such things all too loudly, aren't you?" Ciara cocked her head sideways with an amused twinkle. "Arrest me. Again." She held out her wrists.

And go through more of the same? Ian shook his head. The day before had been quite enough for him. "No, thank you." He really could not follow her. She was a complete enigma. Why was she eager to be arrested now?

"You don't want to experience that again," she nodded knowingly and glanced up at the sky briefly. "Miunai is upset with you for arresting me, Ian. He'll be sending thunderstorms tonight."

The sky was still mostly blue. "How do you know?"

"That's one power I have, but anyone can learn it," Ciara said modestly. "I learnt it at the temple school. My students do the work for me now. I taught them well and they're usually correct. Thunder tonight, they said this morning, so that's what it'll be."

"How do you know?"

"We read the signs," she answered, plucking at the long grass absentmindedly. "When you're young you think you've got a special mission. Unfortunately it didn't go well with other things. My apologies. I'd do it differently now, for what it's worth."

"You wouldn't waste your time on men?" he asked sarcastically.

"Maybe not," Ciara said thoughtfully. "There seems little point in making one's life extra painful. But that wasn't what I meant. If I hadn't wasted my time on you, you wouldn't have had Meri and you'd probably be married to one of those horrid females who would have liked to annihilate me yesterday."

"I'd never have married them," Ian said vehemently.

"It would have been one of them instead of me who got pregnant…now it was me and you know that your daughter is the only reason why they didn't snare you. Perhaps I shouldn't be assuming that Meri was your only accident," she said as an afterthought. "I was thinking that they were put off by Meri. Correct me if I'm wrong. It would be different if you had more children."

"I don't." Ian was a bit shocked by what she said. Why did she always say things that made him think she might have a point? "How do you know all this when you're locked up in a temple all day?"

"Some people come to discuss their problems with us."

"Such as?"

"They didn't tell me so I could tell you," Ciara answered. "And don't think all those women in the temple are always very sweet and kind to each other. Even priestesses have their disagreements and troubles." It was a blessing that they did not have priests and that the clerks were very unattractive. "Why do we keep straying from the topic? You're afraid to lose your daughter to me. You won't. Just give me the chance to get to know her. She might want that."

Chapter 14

Meri might indeed want to get acquainted with Ciara, though it seemed that they had already met. Ian did not know how far he should allow this friendship to go. Meri might think she would get a mother, while Ciara might think she would just be getting a young friend. If these expectations did not match, one would be hurt. He did not care if Ciara was the one who got hurt, or did he? No, he did not want anybody to get hurt, he told himself. But he could not come to a satisfying relief of his doubts.

"Ian…" Ciara said after a while. She waited until he looked up, because he was leaning on one elbow absentmindedly plucking at the grass. "You know where to find me. Let me know what you've decided, but don't blame it on me if she comes to see me," Ciara said briskly, quickly looking away from his eyes. She got to her feet. "Take my cloak, will you? I'll come to collect it one of these days." With an elegant dive she disappeared into the river.

Ian looked after her in bewilderment. He had not expected that move and he certainly was not going to follow her. She would be back, she had said. He supposed he would have to trust in that. What was he going to do with those cloaks she kept leaving behind? And where was she going to end up? He could see her drift downstream. Was she going all the way to the sea? No, she was probably going to climb out a little further on, where there was a little beach. He gathered up the cloak and went back to his office.

Everyone was staring as he came into the building. Of course. They were very interested. Ian did not pay attention and closed his door behind him, flinging the cloak over a chair. His office was beginning to look like a charity shop, but it would not have been so bad if the cloaks had been colours other than pink and yellow.

Ciara took even more clothes off just before she reached the beach. There were some people swimming there and others lay in the sun, wearing as much as she was wearing now. They did not look up as she walked past with her trousers and shirt rolled up in a bundle in her arms. It was hot enough to walk through town only wearing her sunbathing suit. Walking around wet would draw much more attention and she did not know if Ian had sent men out to arrest her.

She saw Meri just before she reached the temple. "I can't talk to you," Ciara said evasively when Meri approached her. She did not want to say that, but she had to.

Meri stepped back. "Why not?" She looked disappointed. For most of the day she had been walking around here in the heat, trying to catch a glimpse of Ciara and now that she had finally seen her, Ciara did not want to talk.

Disappointment was not what Ciara wanted to see. She touched Meri's shoulder. "Your father…" she said softly. "He's not going to like it."

"But I don't care."

Ciara shook her head. "He loves you." She could not be defending Ian here. Impossible.

"Then he should let me do what I want," Meri said stubbornly. "Why wouldn't he like it? Because you walk around like that?" She giggled a little.

"We can't keep standing here," Ciara decided. Certainly not in her underwear, even if half the town walked around like that at the moment, but she was the High Priestess. "I'm going inside. You're welcome to come with me, but don't ever say I forced you."

"I won't." Meri looked a lot happier now and she followed Ciara. "Why are your clothes wet?"

"I jumped into the river."

"Why?" the girl looked shocked. "You weren't trying to kill yourself, I hope?"

"Nooooo…" Ciara laughed. "I was hot and I wanted to get away. This is all going too fast," she muttered. Whenever she had thought about acquainting herself with her daughter, she had never envisaged it to happen as quickly as this, nor had she ever really thought it through, because she had feared Ian would not be as willing to co-operate as he ideally should be. Actually, she was lucky, Ciara realised. He could have been much worse. She should concentrate on that thought and she smiled.

Meri was taken through a few long corridors to Ciara's apartments. The other woman she had seen last night -- her grandmother? -- was sitting there. She looked at the two arrivals with curiosity, but immediately made Meri feel welcome by offering her a drink while Ciara changed into other clothes.

"How do you feel?" Ishala asked kindly.

"Well…I…er…don't know…" Meri was still confused by it all, but she was most unsettled by her father's attitude. "I want my father to like her."

Ishala raised her hands. "He did once."

"He has to forgive her."

"Do you?"

Meri nodded.

"You want to, but do you really?" Ishala was worried that Meri would later, when the excitement had worn off, start to find reasons to blame Ciara for certain things she had missed in her life. She knew that might happen. Ciara had done the same.

"I don't know. I think so." She did not know how one was supposed to feel towards a mother, because she had never had one. It could not be the same as what she felt towards her father, but she had known him longer. Did she feel the family bond with Ciara at all? No. Not yet? She liked Ciara and she was excited about the news, but that was all. There had been no instant recognition that this was her mother and maybe there should have been one. Meri cried.

Her grandmother put her arms around her. "Hush, girl. Don't cry. We'll get them together." She had to do that much to make up for her decisions in the past. It had not been part of the plan, but fate had brought them into this unexpected situation and one had to adjust plans if that happened.

"How?" Meri could not see it happen. "My father hates her. And she's a priestess."

"Yes, that's a small problem," Ishala answered, not saying it was actually a larger problem than turning hate -- that she did not believe existed, anyway -- into love. "Ciarie?"

"Yes!" Ciara called from the other room.

"What did you think of Ian when you saw him after all those years?"

It was silent in the adjoining room. Finally Ciara appeared. "Time has been kind to him," she said calmly. Everyone would make that objective remark, she was sure. What else could she say? Time had indeed preserved him well. And furthermore, what could she say as a priestess? She was not supposed to notice. "I have to supervise my apprentices," she said abruptly. "I'll be right back."

Chapter 15

Ciara hurried along the corridor, shaking her head when she thought of Ishala's question. What had been Ishala's objective in asking that question after separating them eighteen years ago? Had she hoped that Ciara would say yes, you were right, it had no future, he is awful? It was not that. It had no future because she liked what she did and to prove that she was going to do it right now. Her day was never dull, because she had so many different things to do. Of course she liked that. Would she have preferred to wither in someone's house all day? Would she have preferred to have a boring, repetitive job? No. This was what she liked. It had been right.

She scanned the classroom with her eyes before she entered. A few were not there. They obviously had better things to do. Who would blame those who could afford it? The girls present looked up respectfully when she came in and greeted her. Ciara sat down and checked what had been handed in so far. Only Anys' work and that was far from surprising.

"Ciara, I'm almost done --" said a girl eagerly.

Of course. Thuri was always eager. Ciara generally liked the eager ones, but this one was always a degree too eager to be amusing.

"But I don't think we should be making chants…it doesn't feel right. What can I say that hasn't already been said by far wiser people?"

Of course. Thuri was a devout girl who was excellent at memorising and reproducing chants, but she was completely unable to make one. Her future was clear to Ciara. Thuri would be one of those who would order a baby to be killed. She glanced at Anys' assignment. Anys never claimed to be wise, but she had a lot to say. Although it addressed the sun and not the moon, and dealt with a mundane topic such as sunbathing, it was excellent as far as style was concerned. And yet Anys would never get through the other priestesses' selection procedures. She had obviously had her book of chants open, but not captured any of the ideas in it, which was somewhat vital in order to make any sort of promotion here. "Look, Thuri…" Ciara tried to find a way to explain it. "I'm not letting you write them to replace the old ones. I'm trying to get you in the spirit."

"But I'm very much in the spirit," Thuri protested.

Rather too much in the wrong spirit, Ciara thought. "Not everything is meant to be taken literally." That sort of spirit. No, that thought would not get across to the girl.

"Yes, it is," Thuri said stubbornly.

Ciara sighed. Those people existed, which was their good right and she did not want to argue that she was only symbolically married to the moon, to name but one example. "Very well. Shall I change your assignment? You have heard about the thefts? I want you to write out how the thief should be treated." She could send it to Ian and he could bore all his thieves with it. Perhaps it would even be useful. People expected her to come up with such moralising texts, but she was not good at it.

Thuri had been shocked by the fact that someone had dared to perpetrate such a crime and she had her own theories. "Miunai sent a spring tide as an answer."

"He would have sent that in any case," Ciara answered dryly. "It was inevitable." This class of apprentices had not yet been initiated in meteorology. Only a select few were chosen to follow that course. She did not think Thuri would make it -- too fixed in her beliefs to accept the uncertainty of the weather. Maybe rain, maybe sun, but certainly no snow. And they were probably as accurate as a peasant farmer in guessing what tomorrow would bring. What was the point anyway, other than keeping the people in awe by predicting correctly? The day would tell one soon enough. Sometimes she tired of it, but there were always positive things somewhere.

She looked at the other girls' work for a while. It was alright, but not brilliant. Most of them would be selected to continue their education, since they were somewhere between the two extremes. She wondered why Meri had not been eligible for this class. The girls were her age. Her scouts went past all the schools and recruited the best girls who were willing. Either Meri had not been good or she had not wanted to. Or Ian had not wanted it.

Ciara left the girls to their work and went next door to garden 24, a glass-covered flowerbed where flowers blossomed all year round. She sat looking at the moon-roses, lost in meditation about the general state of the roses and its implication for the world.

"Why did you miss the service?" Siarsal asked when she finally found Ciara, no easy task in such a large building.

Ciara raised her eyes from her contemplation of a young plant. She could enjoy that for quite a long time, marvelling at its growth and yet depressed at knowing that it would wither shortly after it had been cut off for a moon service. But there would be more of the same kind. They were almost interchangeable. Could she somehow work this into a speech or a pamphlet?

"You weren't here," Siarsal said.

Ciara had never particularly liked her. She was too sharp. "I was under arrest."

"For what?"

"For being me." Just like the roses were cut off for being roses. Ciara felt she was onto something, but she could not put her finger on it yet.

"Demiga replaced you and she did well. Practice is good for her."

Ciara narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Are you out to replace me altogether? Demiga is not my choice. She doesn't know nearly enough." Which made her an easy puppet for Siarsal to manipulate, undoubtedly.

"I hear the Commander is out to replace you altogether," Siarsal replied. "Don't you know that? He's been retracting several laws that punished offenders against the temple. He's also curtailing the power of the clerks."

"I can only applaud that," Ciara said tersely. The clerks had a little too much power, never telling her anything and deciding mundane things on their own. She would have to talk to Ian to see if this was true. When had it started? After he had met her or before? He had not said anything.

"One more year and we'll be classed among the likes of the Cult of the Pig." That was a relatively new group that had drawn a lot of attention because they revered pigs and tied red ribbons in their tails. They were not taken very seriously, on the whole.

Ciara stared at her in horror. "No! You're making that up. Nobody would put us in the same class as the Cult of the Pig. Those people are crazy! We have a historical basis. They don't." Not to mention the other things they had. The calendar and the other cyclical events that could be traced back to the moon, such as tides. She would really have to talk to Ian before she would be sent to a farm to milk cows as a duty to society. He would laughingly do that to her and probably stand by to see her milk, too.

How could he do that to the mother of his daughter? Not that she really felt like a mother. She did not know how she felt. What was she doing anyway, trying not to think of it by pretending to be working? When she should have been talking to her daughter. Or was she doing just that by sitting here, in some roundabout way? Garden 24 was relatively new. In the old days, eighteen years ago, this had been a small park and there had been a tent in it. She had spent quite some time in that tent one night. Did Siarsal know what had happened in the tent? Ciara saw Siarsal shrug.

"The Commander has no sympathy for history, only for law books. He can do as he pleases, even with us. Only he hasn't so far. Don't antagonise him. I believe he's a moonling," Siarsal warned mysteriously and left.

Ciara looked shocked and sat very still. A moonling! The thought sent a cold shiver down her spine. How could Ian be a moonling? No, how could Siarsal believe that he was a moonling?

Chapter 16

Ciara decided to go to Ian and see whether he was a moonling or not. She had an instrument that was supposed to be able to tell her and she had many times been on the verge of selling it, but it had appealed to her too much. She did not actually think it had any power.

Ian was startled to see her barge into his room. He was in the middle of a discussion with Fanni and a man.

"Excuse me, I have something important to discuss with you," Ciara announced.

"And I have something important to discuss with them," he replied. He could see Fanni was already gathering up her papers, as if Ciara's interruption meant that he would now leave the others. No, he would not allow Ciara to do that.

"I'll wait." Ciara sat down in a corner.

Ian looked perturbed. "Are you going to eavesdrop on us?"

"No, I'm sure it's none of my business. I have to keep an eye on you, though," she told him, waving a silver stick with little silver bells dangling from it on chains. It was said to keep evil at a distance, but it would not work unless she said the ancient word. "Miuniemiemnie."

Ian looked at her as if she was completely crazy. "Otherwise alright?"

"Ka mumuk etetseval pa," Ciara invoked. The silver bells jingled ominously on their chains. "Yn laa!"

"Look here," Ian said, getting up. "I'm not at all fond of that hocus-pocus. Please desist." He did not understand what she was saying.

Ciara was staring at the silver bells in awe and fascination. "You upset my bells!" Therefore he had to possess an unearthly power.

That was enough to stop Ian in his tracks. Fanni and the other man looked on, intrigued by the strange spectacle. "What is it with you and women, Commander?" the man asked, referring to the other spectacle he had seen.

Ciara's little bells jingled even more when Ian took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Don't talk nonsense!" he said.

It was true. Her faith in this sort of thing was very weak and try as she might, she could not gather up enough strength to stick to it and she dropped the silver stick. It clattered to the floor. So Ian was no unearthly thing. "At least I tried to do my job," she mumbled. "You're not a moonling then?"

He kept his hands on her shoulders. "A what?"

Ciara saw he did not seem to know what it was. "If you don't know, you're not. And I don't think you're acting or you would have acted that you had manners." To her surprise he smiled. "And don't start acting now." That smile unsettled her.

With very little pressure of his hands he was able to push her back into her chair. "Sit. No need to attempt any manners if you're set on thinking that I don't have them," Ian remarked. He returned to his desk and his conversation there.

Ciara brooded in silence. He was a patronising jerk.

Ian made her wait for half an hour, because he kept postponing the end of his meeting, not sure what to do with Ciara. He knew the others would think something strange of it, when Ciara had only come to pick up her cloaks. So why had he not given them to her and sent her on her way? He was getting himself in trouble, he was. Fanni and Arik left, with a curious look at Ciara, who, as he had not noticed before, was sticking her nose into a report, a confidential report she had no business with. He snatched it away from her. "It's confidential!"

"Oh. Is that why it's full of language errors? Nobody can see it so nobody will notice?"

Ian glared at her and looked into it.

Ciara deduced that he had written it. That was what she wanted to know. There had not been any errors at all. She smiled her most patronising smile. Ha! She could do what he did.

One look at her and Ian turned. He took her cloaks out of a closet and handed them to her without saying a word.

"You have so much more difficulty speaking than writing," she remarked haughtily and clutched the two cloaks to her chest. "But perhaps you weren't writing that report to me and that made all the difference."

"That must have been it," he agreed.

"Do I make you nervous?"

He did not want to answer that. He did not even want to think about it. "Why?"

"Because you certainly make me nervous," Ciara admitted frankly. He had such a piercing stare and those eyes were so icy. If she were a criminal, she would confess all her crimes. In fact, she was already confessing right now. "Why do you do that?"

"I don't do it on purpose, I assure you." Ian looked at her strangely. He was making her nervous? Not true! How could she accuse him of that when she was the one who was doing it? It was not fair that she should bring this up and unsettle him. "Please talk about something else."

"Why didn't Meri go to the temple school?" Ciara asked. "Wasn't she selected?"

"Yes, she was, but I selected her too," Ian replied. "And that interested her more."

Ciara puffed. "You mean you told her not to go. That's something else." He would not have wanted Meri to go.

"I didn't tell her anything of the sort. She didn't want to go. She wants to do what I did." He looked a little proud. "I don't have to tell her what to do. She's perfectly capable of deciding that on her own."

"Then allow her to get to know me," Ciara snapped. She knew that was not the wisest thing to say if she wanted Ian on her side and she would have to change her approach. "You raised her well," she said kindly, trying if that would work, but he only looked suspicious. Of course. She would have lowered her opinion of him if he had fallen for flattery. "It shows I wasn't completely out of my mind eighteen years ago." Sometimes she thought she had been, notably when he acted so cold.

Ian froze. He would infinitely prefer snapping. How was he to react? He tried stepping backwards when she came too close, but he backed into his desk and he was trapped.

"Ian…" Ciara said seductively.

Ian decided the best he could do not to appear a fool was to go along with it and turn it against her at some point. She wanted something from him and she was not employing a very honest method in obtaining it. Very well. He would not be honest either until he knew what it was. "Ciara…"

She laid her hands on his arms, thrown off balance a little by this unexpected softness in his voice. So he could act too. Well, well. That was very interesting. Did he think that she thought that it was genuine? Ha. Now she needed to think of something else to say and to win time she watched her hand move upward to his shoulder. What was she going to say? Acting was difficult sometimes. It was good that Ian was not physically repulsive, so she could actually do what she was doing without shuddering, but she really needed something to say, and quickly, or else he would catch on and her hand was nearing his neck. No, he probably knew what she was doing, but she wanted to be the one who could keep the charade up the longest. It was going to be her -- charades were her life.

Chapter 17

As if an evil force guided him, Ian kissed Ciara. And again. Until Ciara pulled back and said "oh dear." She was kissing Ian. "I'm kissing you."

He knew it all too well, but as long as he had nothing good to say, he had chosen to keep kissing her until he did. However, he still had nothing to say when she pulled away and he did not even know what to think.

She glanced up into his eyes and then glanced down. This was not helping things along, but she could use it. "Will you allow her to see me now?" she asked. "If you don't, I'm going to tell her you kissed me."

Ian swallowed. What would Meri think of that? "You can't."

"I can and I will." Ciara was not so sure of herself as she sounded, because she did not know what Meri would think of it. What did she think of it herself?

"You win," he said in resignation, a little disappointed that she had been manipulating him. He turned his back on her. "Take her away from me."

Ciara grabbed his arm and faced him. "That's not what I want! How many times do I have to tell you that? And don't be so disgusted with yourself! You knew you had it in you to kiss me. You've done it before."

That was all too true, but he was still shocked. He looked away and started to laugh. This whole situation was ludicrous. She was ludicrous. Why was she trying to find excuses for him?

"You were never shocked then," Ciara reminded him when she saw him shake his head. "You're laughing!" she shrieked.

"Ciara, let's discuss this as sensible adults." He gestured for her to take a seat.

"I don't think there was any sense to this act," she answered readily. "You're facing your worst enemy and what do you do? You can't even control yourself and you kiss her. I'm almost afraid to ask what you do to women you truly like!"

Yes, that was a scary thought indeed and he did not know the answer. "I don't know what I was doing."

"I know what you were doing. What I don't know is what I was doing. I mean, I am nice. I can understand that you'd…you'd forget yourself so much as to kiss me, but me…I don't understand that." Ciara folded her hands in her lap and looked at him. "You're an iceman." And she had kissed the iceman back. Would that mean he was not so icy as she had thought he was? Or was she equally icy?

She was so presumptuous! I am nice. Nice? "I told you I love my daughter. Icemen don't love their daughters. They wouldn't even have any daughters." Ian shuddered when he heard himself speak. Why was he allowing himself to discuss the affective merit of something as non-existent as icemen?

"Maybe, but you're still cold." Even though he loved his daughter.

"Maybe you deserved a cold treatment. It might be you."

"I make you cold?" Ciara raised her eyebrows. "I don't like cold people. Why should I?"

Ian said nothing for a while. She made it sound as if he was the only one to blame when it was not so. Not at all. "Maybe you and I…" he began. "…have a certain effect on each other…"

Ciara looked at him with interest, ready to pounce on it.

"…and it wouldn't do to ascribe all evil to one person. I'm ready to take the blame for my share and no matter if you aren't, but I'll take care not to antagonise you from now on, so if there's any unpleasantness between us, it'll be your fault entirely."

"Spoken like a true moron," she declared. There were some big flaws in that reasoning. What happened to real incompatibility of character? He overlooked that.

"Ciara…I'm not going to react," he warned her. "Why don't you listen to what I say instead of finding fault with the way it's phrased?" Why did she have to be so difficult? Other people were much easier to deal with.

"Alright. I'll listen to what you say. You want peace. You'll get peace. May I propose one thing, though? That we communicate by pen and not by mouth."

"Do you mean that as ambiguously as it sounds?" Ian asked finally.

"I hadn't noticed. Yes. Please let all future communications be in writing."

Ian nodded. He would get the chance to think before he spoke and acted. Somehow that seemed necessary.

"Provided that we have the need to communicate at all," Ciara said doubtfully. "I cannot imagine it, but it may be so. About our daughter, perhaps." She took out a slip of paper. Good bye.

Good bye, Ian wrote underneath. He watched her leave and then rested his head in his hands and sighed. Where was his backbone? Just then a great rumble shook the earth and he ran to the window. People outside had run towards the middle of the square in fear and were now looking around themselves to see what had happened. It was only the one shake and for the rest it was quiet. There was nothing wrong with the buildings around the square, but in the distance he could see the structure of the temple sag slowly and disappear from view behind the houses. The people below could not see that, but he was staring at it in disbelief. It was as if someone had nudged a house of cards.

He ran into the corridor. It was full of shouting and worried people. "The temple collapsed!" he cried over the confusion. They all ran into his room to watch and indeed could no longer see the temple. After gasping for a while someone got the bright idea to go over and look for casualties, since there had to have been people in it.

A whole group of them ran towards the temple. It had completely collapsed. The ravage was enormous and stunned them all into silence or tears. Oddly enough only a few other buildings had suffered and they were for the most only partly damaged. Around the remains of the temple a huge crowd had gathered and stood watching, waiting for someone to co-ordinate the action. Perhaps there were survivors.

A yellow figure climbed up on the ruins and spread out her arms, gesturing at them to move backwards. They obeyed, because it was Ciara. She then climbed down and handed Ian a note. I need your men.

"They're all yours," he replied, wondering how she could have painted her face so quickly. The funny circles were around her eyes again and she had left him only minutes before the earth had shaken.

"No," she shook her head. "I must keep the people at a distance so you can work in an orderly fashion. I'll climb onto the statue and speak." She did as she had said and climbed onto the foot of a huge statue of a man on a horse. Hanging onto the horse's front legs, she called out to the crowd.

Chapter 18

It was unavoidable that Ian should have to communicate more closely with Ciara during the rescue. She had urged the crowd to stay calm and offer their services, after which she had joined Ian, who was supervising his men, while also helping out. He left the ordering of the exact tasks to the experts, but was there for the vital communication.

Ciara would not allow herself to give in to grief or worries, because she had already seen a few women cry hysterically and she was afraid that she would infect the rest of them if she thought any deeper on the fact that many people she knew would now be somewhere under the debris. Including her mother and daughter. "Start there," she pointed in the rough direction of where her rooms had been.

"Why?"

"Please?" It had been a while and maybe Meri had left, but Ishala did not go out much. Ishala would almost certainly have been inside. All victims would be equal and she had no right to give the rescue of her family the highest priority, but she did it anyway. "My mother…" She dared not voice her other suspicion. There was still a sense of disbelief within her. It could not be so.

Ian ordered a part of his team to start there, while the other part began on the other side, where it was much easier. He was surprised to see that Ciara helped, bruising and bloodying her fingers on the heavy rocks. She would be of more use elsewhere and should leave the heavy stuff to his men and the volunteers, especially because she was wearing a long cloak and there was a long row of volunteers waiting to be assigned to a team. He did not want to tell her to go, however. He understood that her mother would mean a lot to her and nobody else dared to send her off the ruin either.

There was no lack of volunteers and that was a good thing, because pretty soon he had organised it so that the official forces had space to move in while the volunteers kept people at a distance and performed the necessary small tasks such as fetching buckets of water.

A person was found and Ciara came running. She wanted to see who it was before they loaded it into the ambulance. Thankfully it was neither Meri nor Ishala and she made the sign of the moon in front of her chest in relief. The chances were that she would not believe it if she did see them.

Now that everything was organised, Ian could start helping. He threw rocks and stones on a horse-drawn cart so they could be driven off, because then at least he was easily approachable by his men. Ciara was still helping -- he could see her yellow figure bent over a pile. Apparently there was someone in the pile that had to be reassured as the men were trying to get there. People were being found now in the parts that were still half standing and he looked at some to see how they were. Some were dead -- it had been inevitable. Ciara had climbed down for a few, but apparently she had to stay where she was now, because she no longer came down, although Ian could see that she sometimes looked down anxiously in case it was someone she knew.

She had to stay where she was. One of her apprentices was here and she was in pain. Most likely she had broken her leg. Ciara held her hand and talked to her softly, telling her it would be all right because they had almost got her out. The girl relieved her too, because she had said that there had been a warning bell ten minutes before and most people had left the temple. Some had not taken it seriously and stayed behind. Ciara got new hope, because surely Ishala must have realised the importance of the warning bell.

"Ciara?" Ian called her as she was making her way to a new victim, having been summoned there by the rescuers. He caught up with her as soon as he could, not wanting the rubble to slide. "Do you know how many people should have been in the temple and who? I've got a group down there who've come to say they're safe."

She jumped down immediately, stumbling and falling right into his arms. Perhaps Ishala and Meri were among them.

"Careful," Ian steadied her. "It's dangerous to run."

"Who…who are they? Did you recognise anyone?" she asked breathlessly.

"A few." He led her towards the group, who immediately broke out in explanations, worries and speculations.

Ciara did not listen to them, but searched the faces around her with her eyes. She did not see Ishala or Meri. She berated herself. She ought to be happy that these were safe, at least. To occupy herself she took down their names and asked them for names of other members of their subgroups so she could check how many were here. She crossed those off, along with the wounded she had seen, but there had been some she had not seen.

Fanni was standing nearby, arranging the installation of the lights. They would not finish before sunset and they had to get the lights ready before it grew dark. She received Ciara's list in silence and studied it, looking up gravely when her eyes encountered the name Meri at the very bottom. "Meri?" she asked, gesturing slightly at Ian.

Ciara nodded and bit her lip. "I didn't tell him. She was with my mother and they're not with the group. They should have been with the group. They should have been safe." Slowly her senses began to unfreeze and she began to feel despair.

"Why was she with your mother?"

"She's my daughter." Ciara could only see Fanni very hazily through her tears.

It was not the time to inquire how that had happened, but Fanni understood why Ciara looked such a mess, with dirt and blood streaking her yellow cloak and her fingers grazed and bruised. This was not the right place for a concerned relative. She would only be driving herself crazy if she stayed. Fanni took Ciara's arm.

"No, I have to help," Ciara protested, yelping in pain when her hand brushed against Fanni's side. She seemed to have hurt her hand.

Fanni beckoned Ian, showed him Ciara's left hand and inclined her head towards a waiting ambulance. It certainly looked as though she was in need of medical attention.

Ian could not go with her. How could he justify going off with a woman who had broken her finger when there were so much more serious cases waiting here? And he could not spare Fanni either. He looked around himself to see if he could send someone with Ciara to make sure that she went away. She would have to get that finger fixed first. He wondered that she was not in pain. Suddenly he saw his daughter's face among the crowd. She was not allowed to come closer and he ran towards her.

It was hard to tell what was on Ciara's face when she saw Meri safe and sound, covered as it was with paint and dirt, but she hugged her tightly. "I thought you were in there," she whispered.

"We went to the park just in time," Meri replied. Her father had told her curtly to get Ciara to a doctor and then he had gone back to work. What was wrong with Ciara anyway? The hand looked bad, but it had to be washed first. The doctor in the ambulance cleaned it carefully, trying not to make Ciara wince too much. Then it was bandaged, but the doctor did not have time to clean the rest of her, because he was needed elsewhere.

"Where's my mother?" Ciara asked. That was still her main concern, although she was almost sure that if one was safe, so was the other.

"She's there," Meri nodded. "Or she's gone to the hospital to help. She said she'd do that." She took a bucket and began to clean Ciara's other hand by dipping the hem of her cloak into the water. Fortunately it only seemed to be bruised. She assisted Ciara in taking off her cloak and then cleaned her face and tied her hair back neatly again since Ciara was unable to do that herself with only one hand. This was her mother and she did it for her gladly. "Isn't it terrible?" she said softly. "How come it happened so suddenly?"

"Not suddenly," Ciara corrected her. "It had been rumbling for a while, but I had no idea the structure was so weak. It withstood a lot more in the past." She was puzzled and turned her head to look at the ruins, but Meri had placed her somewhere where she could not see it.

"True. There are far weaker structures in town," Meri mumbled, frowning as she folded up the cloak. It was not really comprehensible, but catastrophes never were.

Fanni came walking around the ambulance and stopped when she saw Meri sitting there. She knew the other person was Ciara, but she had never seen them look so much alike as now, both frowning. She could see it now, that they were mother and daughter, although it would never have occurred to her if Ciara had not said so. She would not have suspected Ciara of having so old a daughter. But she supposed she needed not worry about either of them now that they were together and she turned back to supervise the rescue, having been able to cross off a few more names of people that had already been taken out. Only a few more remained to be found, but the temple was huge and it might take long. Fortunately she had people to tell her roughly in which area the listed people might be found. Of course they might be wrong.

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