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‘Thank you.’
    I meant what I said. If more
came of it, I would naturally be overjoyed, but I was happy to take
what he felt he could give. If that was the occasional meal
together, I’d be grateful. It was more than most hara could get
from him, I knew that.
    As Ysobi predicted, our arrival
together at Willow Pool Garden caused a stir. He knew just about
everyhar there, of course, but not in this way. They were curious
as to how I’d persuaded him to leave his Nayati. Still, on the
whole, it seemed to me that hara were glad he was there. They
berated him for not having joined them before.
    The band was very good; they
played fiddles and drums and flutes. They had dancers with them,
who performed nearly naked, twining between members of the
audience. Hara showered them with gifts. Inevitably, Zehn ended up
with one of them by the end of the evening. Everyhar had drunk a
lot, the mood was high. We piled out into the street around four in
the morning, everyhar singing and horsing around. Ysobi put his arm
round my waist. I had never seen him so happy. ‘You enjoyed
yourself, admit it,’ I said.
    He squeezed me a little. ‘It’s
been fun.’
    ‘Do you want a final drink
before bedtime?’
    ‘I could fit one more in,’ he
said.
    ‘Come back to mine, then,’ I
said. ‘Sample my staff privileges.’
    ‘Sounds good.’
    In my living room, I lit
candles, noticing there was still a mark on the sofa where Zehn had
lain. I threw a cushion over it. ‘Sit down,’ I said to Ysobi. ‘I’ll
just go and peruse my ‘cellar’, see what I can find.’
    He threw himself down on the
sofa, and I padded out to the kitchen, where there was a cold room.
Here I kept all the bottles that Sinnar had given me; he insisted
all his hara took their pick of everything we made. I didn’t feel
too drunk, just nicely mellow. I chose a birch sap wine. It was one
of the best.
    The kitchen was in darkness.
When I turned round to go back into it, Ysobi was standing behind
me. I jumped in alarm. ‘Yz! You spooked me.’
    He took the bottle from my
hand, put it on the table behind him. He took my forearms in his
hands.
    ‘Yz, what…?’
    He put a finger to my lips.
‘Ssh.’
    Then we were sharing breath. He
was so hungry for it. Drowning. I could feel his grief, his
loneliness. What could I do but give of myself? Drink, I
told him. Drink all you want.
    We staggered against the table
and knocked the bottle over. It smashed on the floor. Ysobi was
hanging onto me so tightly I thought I’d black out. Then he broke
away from me, pressed his forehead to my own. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘You don’t know how much.’ He took a step back. ‘I can’t do this,
and yet I had to. I can’t do this to you.’
    He fled.
    I just stood there stunned for
several minutes. Then, like an automaton, I began to clear up the
smashed glass and the lake of splintery wine. There were tears on
my face, yet I wasn’t weeping.
    I took another bottle from the cold
room and opened it. Then I went into the living room and sat on the
sofa, swigging from the bottle. What had happened? My mind was on
fire. I’d felt his need. I’d experienced his feelings. He’d run
away. I wouldn’t usually see him for two days, since tonight was
the beginning of the weekend. In two days, I had to formulate a
script we could both live with.
    Minnow came round at mid-day,
but I ignored his knocking. I’d hardly had any sleep and the last
thing I wanted was my friend’s eager questions about the previous
evening. When I was sure he’d gone, I got out of bed and dressed
myself. I went into the kitchen and drank some water. Then I went
to the Nayati.
    There was no response to my
knock, so I just tried the door and it was open. Ysobi’s living
room was empty. I called his name. Nothing. I went into the garden
and found him there, cross-legged on the grass, deep in trance. I
sat down opposite him, studying his face. He looked wretched. I
know he became aware of my presence, I