Diana Dueyn - The Big Meow
“She was more amused than surprised when a brindle kitten was born no more than a month later in the wild, and knew her own name to be Aifheh: and Sehau was born again with a white pelt and black patches, not two months after that, in another ehhif city nearby. Sehau was thrown out of her dam’s home by some ehhif as an unwanted thing, one more kitten in a place where there were too many People for too little food, and he took to the roads alone and hungry, thought searching for something more than food. Aifheh went out into the woods very young, almost before she was full weaned, knowing there was someone she needed to meet. And there in the autumn of that year they met again as kittens, and leapt on each other, and played and rolled and laughed and wept, though the sorrow was from another life, not this one: this one so far was all joy.
“Of course sa’Rraah knew of their reunion: for the game she played was new, and she had been listening at the boundary between life and the depths within life, waiting for the scent of their returning souls as Sehau and Aifheh had once waited for the rustle of the fieldmouse to come out of the bank. ‘My Dam and Queen is yet a fool,’ thought sa’Rraah, ‘to play the same move twice.’ And this time she let Aifheh and Sehau grow older, for the amusement of watching them grow and love their small doomed love, while thinking of how she would end them, this time in some way more cruel and amusing. And this time Aifheh bore her kittens live, and raised them until their eyes were just open, and they were at their most helpless: and then in those woods under the shelter of the mountains, the wild dogs found them and her and Sehau, and tore and devoured them all. But even as they died, Aifheh and Sehau renewed their oath: and sa’Rraah went away, pleased with her sport.”
The Silent Man was scribbling away at speed now, the same shorthand he had been using at the party. Now he paused and looked at Rhiow. I am detecting a pattern, he said.
Rhiow bowed her head to him in the human gesture. “Their third life,” she said, “came a few months later: for after such trauma the soul takes longer to remember its shape. And once again a brindle kitten and a white-pelt with patches like night were born, though this time the queen was the brindle again and the tom the day-and-night. This time sa’Rraah was listening more carefully for their souls, and twisted the path between the depths of Life and the world in such a way as to cause Aifheh and Sehau to be born a thousand miles apart. Alone they grew, and alone they sought for each other through a decade’s worth of years – neither ever taking a mate, each speaking to every Person they met to find some word of the other. And a legend grew up right across a continent of the two People who each sought a mate they had never met but whom they knew intimately. Eventually they found each other: and sa’Rraah saw to it that it was not until the two old age-crippled People finally set eyes on each other, across a rainy hillside clearing no more than ten feet wide, that the earth quaked in the place where they were, and the rainsoaked land slipped away from the hill and buried them alive. But in the single look they exchanged, Sehau and Aifheh remade their oath before they died.
“Sa’Rraah looked upon the crushed bodies in amusement and departed that place. But now her temper was a little on edge, for she was not used to being so thwarted by mere mortal things, crude matter with soul trapped inside. Long ago she had mocked the Queen for making mortal life, a thing neither honest matter or honest spirit, but a strange unwieldy hybrid, never to be truly at home in either Heaven or the world of concrete things. Now sa’Rraah began to suspect that she was the butt of a joke. And there is no more dangerous being anywhere than a God who thinks someone is making fun of Him.”
Urruah’s tail was twitching against the desk gently and rhythmically, an amused gesture. The Silent Man, for his own part, paused again in his shorthand. It gets worse now, I take it, he said.
“Lives four, five, and six,” Urruah said, “vary from version to version, depending on who’s telling it and how. But they boil down to: mid-length lives in which each has the most alluring possible lover presented to them – “
“Usually sa’Rraah herself in disguise,” Hwaith said.
“ – and they both refuse her, and die. Long lives during which both are repeatedly kept from meeting each other until they die. And then both killed in their mothers’ wombs, never even drawing a breath.”
And still they come back, looking for each other, said the Silent Man.
Rhiow bowed her head again. “By life seven,” she said, “when once again the brindle and the night-and-light pelted kittens are born, sa’Rraah isn’t even watching at the borderland, so certain is she that they won’t come back. But they do, and once again they’re born and find their way to one another, and they live their love for many years. Sa’Rraah, as you might guess, is furious. She comes to them in her full splendor – which is considerable: even a fallen daughter of God will command your attention when she turns up staring at you across your food bowl — and she offers them a bargain. She’ll kill them now – painlessly, peacefully – and renounce her vendetta against them, if they’ll renounce their oath. ‘I warn you,’ the Shadowed One says, ‘die now, and part, and be done with it. Die now and come again without your oath and I will release you from my enmity: you may live your lives apart, with other loves even, and go into the dark at last in peace, no more my prey. But come again and try to keep your oath and I will hunt you without mercy to the boundaries of life and into the darkness beyond: for you will sooner have a tenth life than you will have your love in my despite.’”
The Silent Man paused in his writing and glanced swiftly at Rhiow. Urruah put his whiskers right forward, looked away.
Rhiow flicked an ear at her colleague in amusement. “But they looked at each other,” she said, “and then to the Shadowed One’s astonishment and fury, they laughed at her. ‘We don’t fear you, Shadowed One,’ said Sehau. ‘Rather we pity you. Seven of our lives you have destroyed, yet you still don’t see that the fieldmouse’s nest always has one more mouse in it!’ And Aifheh said, ‘Daughter of the Queen, we put you another proposal. Give up your hunting of us and we’ll let you go free! For you’re the one who’s bound and in torment. You’ve made our oath your chain, just as you’ve done with your own old oath in the deeps of time, to kill the Life the Queen made. Break this chain, break that one as well, and go home to Heaven where your pride waits you by the Hearth!’”
The Silent Man nodded and pushed his pencil aside. And I think, he said, that’s probably the end of life seven.
“You think right,” Urruah said. “Sa’Rraah killed them out of hand.”
“But soon enough they came again,” Rhiow said. “And this time the Shadowed One actually missed them when they crossed into life: for now Aifheh and Sehau had grown bold, and decided that if sa’Rraah would play with them, then they would play with her. At the borders of Life they hid themselves just on the far side, where they could not be so clearly scented, and watched sa’Rraah pass to and fro in her rage, hunting them: and when they saw that for a moment or a month she was looking the other way, they slipped over the borderline and were born. Five whole ehhif years they lived in the world, raising their kittens and glad in each other’s love. And all that while sa’Rraah prowled the borders endlessly, looking and peering, scenting and searching for those who were not there. Finally it was one of her jackals, one of the small dark spirits that follow at her heels, that came running to her and told her where the lovers were.
“Sa’Rraah was enraged almost beyond the rage that drove her first from Heaven. Without a moment’s pause she flashed to where Sehau and Aifheh lived in the wild, and with her own claws stripped their souls from their bodies and flung them once more out into the dark. Yet even as she killed them, she saw their eyes meet and their oath remade.
“The Shadowed One’s fury was now even more terrible than before, and she was a prisoner of it, as the two had said: their lives and their obstinate love were a burning abscess in sa’Rraah’s side, set there by the claw of perverse fate. And above all things, she was outraged that they should dare to play with her. The Queen’s wayward daughter swore she should not be gulled so again. Now she patrolled the borders of life without rest, so that life in the world seemed almost to have a time of peace. And finally, as they began their ninth life, sa’Rraah caught the two souls just at the borderline, at the very place where matter and spirit are joined: and just as their souls were being knit into their dams’ flesh, she slew that flesh for the last time.”
Rhiow glanced at Urruah, whose eyes were closed now, and at Hwaith, who met her look with whiskers forward, anticipating the final kink in the story’s tail. She looked over at the Silent Man, who was still writing, and now paused, waiting.
Rhiow put her whiskers forward too. “There sa’Rraah stood over the images of what their bodies would have been had they come to full age – the brindle and the light-and-night pelt, lying there stark and unmoving now. And she laughed. But then, around her in that shadowy place on the borders between deep Life and the shallows of mere concrete existence, suddenly there stood the Queen in Her majesty, and her daughters the Whisperer and Aaurh the Mighty, and even Urrau Lightning-Claw, come down from those dangerous places in Heaven where the Queen’s mate prowls alone. But sa’Rraah faced them all down, and laughed again.
“O my Mother and my Sisters,” said sa’Rraah, “and O my wandering Brother, I call you all to witness: the play is over. And it is as I said. Even these two who were Your pride, my Mother, both they and what they had, even those I have marred. I have won.’
“’So it would seem,” the Queen said.
“Yet then as all watched, all eyes but the Queen’s widened as something stirred about Aifheh’s shadow body. And about Sehau’s as well, an inner light shifted to be free. Then beyond all expectation each of them slowly rose up in a body that was neither wholly spirit nor wholly matter, but a new joining of the two, one brindle and one night-and-light. There Sehau looked on Aifheh, and Aifheh on Sehau, and they rushed together and rubbed against one another and bumped their heads together, and all the Queen’s children stared.
“And the Queen began to purr.
“Then the Shadowed One’s eyes went dark with fury, and she threw a bolt of her own dark fire at them to destroy them utterly. But Aifheh and Sehau shook it off as one would shake off the leavings of a dustbath, and fell to licking one another’s ears. At this sa’Rraah turned to the Queen, crying, ‘What mummery is this?’
“’None you did not give them to play out yourself,’ said the Queen. ‘For you said they would sooner have ten lives than live their love in your despite: and are you not yet my Daughter, with power to ordain and endow? From the moment you so pronounced and they yet went on to live their love in your despite, then ten lives they would and must have; for what a God promises must be performed. And what they have, other People may now have also, thanks to you.’
“The fury of the Shadowed One turned her dark as the empty void. ‘I undo my ordainment! I abolish my endowment!’ cried sa’Rraah; but though the Heavens trembled at her roar, the two lovers were no whit troubled, nor even slightly distracted from their rubbing against one another and the twining of their tails. And even Aaurh the Mighty was fain to turn away and hide her laughter at her sister’s rage.
“‘Nor may the gifts or acts of Gods be withdrawn,’ the Queen said, ‘as you should know. So you see how your marring has fared. Though I stirred not a paw to help them, at every turn they forestalled you, even from life to life. That Life is their weapon, and sustains them as it sustains you, whether you admit it or no. Nor can you wholeheartedly will the end of that Life, for it is in you as well. Will its abolition wholeheartedly, and it will take you at your word and abolish you as well.’
“Then, furious, seeing there was nothing else to be done, sa’Rraah departed from that company, growling low. She took herself away into the darkness, and was not seen again on Heaven’s floors for long. But the Whisperer looked at the Queen and said, “Royal Dam and Queen, now tell us how You brought this about.”
“’I brought about nothing,’ said the Queen, ‘save through her Word, which still bears power in the worlds. And see what lengths your sister went to make it true!’ She put her whiskers forward and stretched, fore and aft. “Sa’Rraah’s own error has brought about the Gift She will never be able to undo, though she spend all this universe’s store of Time trying to do so.”
“And this Sehau and Aifheh have done by their strife against her in life after life,” said the Whisperer.
“Yet they could not have become who they became, so stubborn in strife, without my daughter time and again undoing their lives,” the Queen said. “Long I waited in fear, dreading that their time and this fate should approach, and sa’Rraah would not have that moment of spite that brought her to the Hearth and set these events in motion: for my daughter’s will must be as free as all others’, if she is to come back to the Hearth at last.”
“’So our sister is part of creation again, as she has been for long,” said Aaurh the Mighty to the Queen. ‘But this time she knows it. And now she has back something that was once hers once and was taken from her; and of her own will.’
“And the Queen said nothing, but merely purred, as is Her way when She feels it wise to let the moment’s silence speak its own word. She and Her daughters returned at length to the Hearth, the fire of which burned on, and burns still. As for Sehau and Aifheh, none have seen them since they crossed into the Tenth Life. Now they are Love personified, and Love does not need to be seen to be known. But no uncertainty of their whereabouts can change the fact that not even the Lone Power could destroy what they had – for while we have their story, we have both them, and what they had.”
Hwaith was looking a little unfocused. Rhiow glanced over at Urruah, who was studying his toes. The Silent Man, who had stopped writing a little while ago and had been sitting with his hands clasped loosely in his lap, the pencil still sticking out of them, now opened his eyes, looked sidelong at Rhiow and Urruah, and said, Malarkey.
Urruah looked at him in bemusement. Rhiow said, “Excuse me?”
Malarkey, he said. Especially about Pittburgh. Nothing like that ever happened in Pittsburgh.
Urruah gave him an amused look. “It could have been New York…”
The Silent Man thought about that, and after a moment, smiled just the slightest smile, nodded. So it could. He put his pencil down and reached out to the coffee cup, drained it, made a face at the cold stuff. Anyway, that’s some love story, he said. Make a good long opera.
Urruah put his whiskers right forward. “That’s one of the ways it’s done,” he said. “It’s often sung – part of it, or the whole thing — when there are enough queens in season, and enough toms in the neighborhood…”
