Ash requested that I edit his manuscript. With one exception, I have made no cuts to the text, and the alterations have consisted primarily of regularizing the old Skarsian spellings. For personal reasons, I felt it important to keep his original writing intact. I am also aware of the value of this book to all devout Archonists. One does not edit the Word of God. It occurs to me that the archbishops of the church and other luminaries might seek to impose their own edits. They may discover that the mind of God is quite a bit less lofty than they’d imagined. For any who find themselves so inclined, I have but two words of advice: FUCK OFF.
It’s my instinct that the book should display its rough edges, its emotional core, and not become an exercise in pedantry. Nevertheless, I do have personal insight on some of the events mentioned. For the sake of avoiding distracting annotations, I have included these short editorial comments at the end of the text.
Chapter 1 – This is hilarious. Is this really what it is like inside of Ash’s head? I suppose it explains a lot.
Chapter 2 – Ailann’s reconstruction is erroneous. Clive did threaten to kill me if I betrayed him. He did not try to kiss me. Clive is far too practical to do something like that in a time of danger. It’s something Cillian would do.
Chapter 3 – Concerning favoritism – Daniel is my first love, the sweetheart I cherished in my heart and mourned for so many years. Sloane is my hero, the strong, silent man who loved me from a distance and saved me at the cost of his own life. Evan is a poet, the soul of refinement and beauty. Jack is energy, power, incredible talent and charisma, an idol who sends teenage girls into hysterical screaming. Mickey is another sort of hero, the man of action with a mysterious past. Tommy is my other self, my partner in crime, the one with whom I share my secrets. Patrick is Prince Charming, handsome, eloquent, sweeping me off my feet. Cuinn is an adorable little geek boy, the kind one has a crush on at university. Jamey is ethereal, exotic – one of the things I think doesn’t come through in this text is just how achingly lovely he is. I’ll just stop there. Now you tell me – which one would you choose?
Each one is a trap, a seduction, a honey-pot, and I am the bee that flits from flower to flower, never leaving the tree. That’s quite intentional on Ash’s part.
There have been times when I was enraptured with this state of affairs, my own private harem. There have been times when it has driven me to despair, when I wanted to cling to one man, some sense of stability. Now, for the sake of my sanity, I generally call him Ash no matter who he is. It is to remind me that the man standing before me, the man with whom I am desperately in love, is only a fragment of the real thing, that alien and incomprehensible being who truly holds my heart.
Chapter 4 – The passage concerning Suibhne clearly demonstrates the vast difference between human and nau’gsh psychology. Suibhne is insane precisely because he is not listening to the voices in his head.
For my part, it is unforgivable to have believed the evidence General Panic supplied, however convincing, over my own innate knowledge of Ash. I had realized that Ash’s behavior was becoming erratic, and he had lied to me so many times before, but I should’ve trusted that he would not – could not – harm me. I should’ve suspected something was wrong; I should have asked what had happened to Ross. Perhaps I accepted Callum’s appearance without question because I couldn’t bear to hear that Ash had died in my service yet again; it is a pale excuse, and I make no excuses. I made the mistake of Percival, and I nearly lost the grail. It is Suibhne who had to bear the suffering that resulted from my weakness and folly. For that, he owns a piece of my heart I will give to no other.
Chapter 5 – Concerning Patrick: In the middle of sex with me, he’s thinking about Whirljack. I knew it! I think I’m going to request some hot threesome dreams from Hurley. I do miss having Whirljack without Blackjack sometimes. But that would probably make Blackjack very jealous. Then the next time they emanated as a pair, I could probably provoke Blackjack into a vengeful domination scenario. What fun!
Concerning Evan: I, too, needed to let go of myself. I had spent years protecting Evan by not allowing myself to fall in love with him. When we were done, I rested my head against his chest. He’s so thin; his heart was fluttering like a bird. When our eyes finally met, we realized we had nothing more to hide. It was a moment of mutual embarrassment, and mutual forgiveness.
I reread that passage, reflecting on that fragile moment, on Evan’s painful shyness. And then I recall that the night before Evan’s defloration, Cillian fucked me with his fist. And they are both Ash. How can they both be Ash? How is it that I love them both equally?
Chapter 6 – One thing which is still mysterious to me is the role of the common nau’gsh in Dolparessan evolution. Why did this tree not develop consciousness like the others? And what is the purpose of the nau’gshtamine amide beta, the active ingredient in nau’gsh wine?
I asked Jack once, and he told me that it was the Cu’endhari who taught humanity the secret of making the wine. It was the Cu’endhari who introduced the Nau’gsh Festival. “For three days,” he said, “Dolparessa belongs to us. For three days, the world is run the way we would choose to run it.”
Chapter 7 – We’re lucky that the holo of the kiss is all the paparazzi got. Cuinn is another screamer, like Patrick. I swear half of Eirelantra heard us.
Chapter 9 – It was easier than might be thought for me to secretly bring RootRiot to market. The idea that I might do something like that was incomprehensible to Merkht, so he was never looking in the right direction. To understand why, you need to know a little about the political philosophy which shapes the Domha’vei. It’s actually quite simple. There’s a ruling class and a commercial class. The ruling class makes the laws, owns all of the land and the rights to all natural resources, and spends most of its time in pointless infighting. This is by design: infighting is supposed to make certain that only the strongest leaders survive. The ruling class keeps hold of all the natural resources so that it never runs out of money. One thing their exhaustive study of Earth history showed the leaders of the Five Nations is that when the ruling class runs out of money, it does stupid things. Makes unnecessary wars. Imposes restrictive taxes. Marries into the commercial class.
The commercial class is basically welcome to conduct itself however it pleases as long as it doesn’t get in the way of the ruling class or break the laws. There are laws that apply to the ruling class and laws that apply to the commercial class. For example, a noble is expected to settle through dueling what a commoner would settle with a lawsuit. The ruling class is taught that meddling with the affairs of the commercial class is demeaning. Make as few rules as possible, they are taught, and let the commercial class become too distracted with devising new money-making schemes to plot against their rulers. In other words, no aristo would stoop to engage in commerce. It would be as déclassé as, say, fucking a migrant agricultural worker.
But I’ve always enjoyed putting the felinoids in with the bloobirds. The way I see it, the members of my own class have done nothing but make me miserable. I owe them nothing. They can go sit on an active antimatter generator.
By the way, Ash, that was brilliant – making Daniel a migrant agricultural worker. I loved him because he was the sweetest boy I’d ever met. But I fucked him because I knew it was like rubbing shit in Tenzain Merkht’s face.
Concerning Lorcan – I was quite prepared to let him kill me. I had been Ash’s lover for over three decades, and had never known him to do something out of my best interest, no matter how convoluted it appeared. If that seems folly to you, consider that to be exactly the battle I fought against myself for that same three decades. Ash is not human and cannot be judged by human standards. If he chooses to kill me, I will trust that he has discovered a way to sweep me into his leaves forever, or that there is a one-time only sale of luxury condos in heaven’s best neighborhood.
Chapter 10 – The morning of the “immolation,” I discovered that several weeks previous, Suibhne had felled every larch in the groves of Court Emmere with his own hands. He said that he had done it “in the fashion of Carlo Gesualdo.” It is difficult for a human to understand the extent of the horror a Cu’endhari would feel at this act.
Chapter 12 – There seems to be an unsubstantiated consensus that Owen is responsible for the deaths of those miners. If anyone is to be blamed, it should be me: I was the one who ordered the go-ahead against Ash’s advice and without a proper risk-assessment study. Be that as it may, I don’t feel a lot of guilt over it. Who knows what would have happened if Traeger and Molly weren’t plotting to steal the crystals? Keep second-guessing yourself, and you’ll never accomplish a damn thing. I was tempted to take the passage out, but it’s such a typical illustration of the way Ash thinks.
Chapter 14 – I have truncated the original timeline to reduce redundancy in the narrative. What remains is enough to give the reader a general feel for the original – also, it eliminates the need for Ash to attempt to dramatize the events of twelve years he did not directly witness. Really, the less said about those years, the better. Although the time I doctored Merkht’s groatmeal with fibrous z’ompheh was hilarious. I have always wondered if he suspected the source of that week-long bout of diarrhea.
Chapter 16 – Tommy asked “Why don’t you pick a good apple?” I ended the call without giving him a truthful answer: “Because I have to punish myself some more for what happened to Daniel.”
Chapter 19 – The question which seems to plague Ash is really quite simple. I want him to believe that I love him. I always have, and I always will. It probably would’ve helped if I’d actually bothered to say that to one of him before I reconciled with Chase. I did say it to Daniel, many times. Once I married Merkht, I never admitted to anything, joy as well as sorrow. Either can be a source of torment of use by enemies. I was at least aware of being in love with Edom, Jack and Patrick, and also aware that Evan, Tommy and Cuinn were dangerous temptations. Sloane and Ailann I loved obsessively – after I believed Sloane was dead, and before I believed Ailann existed. Once I knew Ailann was real, I did my best to freeze him out. It was the only way I knew how to protect myself from disappointment. Ash played along with my head games. Why else would he have kept Sloane from me for so long? I have finally come to understand that I must be brutally honest with myself or Ash will reflect the lies he thinks I want to hear.
Chapter 21 – I argued that the chapter name be changed, but in the end, Ash stood his ground. I wanted to call it, “In which Tara really fucks things up.”
I am rash, and sometimes I act without thinking. All right – a lot of the time I act without thinking. And once again I allowed myself to be tricked, listening to the words of those who had reason to be my enemies. But worse, I left Ash when he most needed me.
It’s hard to write about those bleak months when I didn’t even know if Ash was still alive. I swore to myself that if ever we were reunited, I would allow him to school me in n’aashet n’aaverti. Like Janet in the ancient tale of Tam Lin, I would know my love and hold him, whatever form he took.
Chapter 22 – Here is the answer to the riddle: I don’t have a favorite ice cream. I love those huge sundaes that come with ten different scoops – or twenty-five. However, I don’t think I’d do well for very long without water.
Chapter 23 – Ashtara’s apples are the most wonderful thing I’ve ever tasted. Of course they are. Each Cu’enashti grows apples in response to the preference of the Chosen. I only eat them on very special occasions, though. As you might imagine, it is an extraordinarily intimate act. This is the reason why they are poisonous to all but the Chosen. They aren’t really very toxic, but unpleasant – they will cause splitting headaches and gastrointestinal distress. It’s to keep random people from eating them. It isn’t nice to eat someone else’s husband.
I am profoundly moved by how much Ailann has been asked to bear by all of us. On the surface he projects such power and surety. I did not see, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I did not want to see, the loneliness beneath. In his typically tactful fashion, Patrick did not go into detail about the events of the festival. It is my deepest wish that Ailann finally got the moment of peace and joy he longed for.
Chapter 24 – Ash is interpolating Clive’s inner monologue from something Clive told me later. Did Clive actually mean it? He might have said it just to spite me. On the other hand, given the way Clive thinks, he might well find Ash more attractive than me. When I first repeated the conversation to Ash, he laughed. “I doubt there’s a single Cu’enashti who’d have anything to do with Clive,” he said. “He’s all the wrong type.” On the other hand, he expressly forbade me from allowing Suzanna anywhere near the forests. “She’ll be the ruin of some poor sapling. Her head is full of dreams, but they’re the dreams of birds.” I totally agree that Suzanna is a birdbrain, but I don’t think that’s what Ash meant.
Between the gold-diggers and the heartbreakers, the trees are very vulnerable – and they can’t just chalk a bad relationship up to experience. On the other hand, I’m getting backlash from certain human interest groups. Last week, I engaged in a heated exchange with the leader of a victim’s rights coalition. “A Cu’enashti is, by definition, a stalker,” she said. I asked her if she had been “stalked” by a Cu’enashti, and she said no. I then suggested that she just stay away from the forests. She replied, “Are you going to tell me not to wear short skirts next? I should be able to walk where I damn well please.” I do understand her concerns, and realize it’s a sensitive issue, but the Cu’enashti don’t stalk. There’s a reason the Cantor’s second lesson is to respect human boundaries. They would be mortified to think that their attentions were unwanted – they would immolate first. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to say that because I was with Cillian. He said, “Don’t worry, babe. Trees don’t go for uptight bitches like you.” I’ll be doing damage control for months now.
Chapter 25 – I probably should note that by using the crystals on the Staff, Molly had an opportunity to brainwash me, or even to shred my mind. In the latter case, however, Ash would’ve ripped her to pieces before she could do much damage. I don’t think that her logic was affected by that possibility. Ash could’ve ripped her to pieces in any case. She wasn’t concerned for her personal safety. I am convinced that her motives were sincere – that she really thought she was revealing to me a monstrosity which posed great danger to humanity.
Why didn’t encountering Ash’s mind drive me insane, like the Ennead telepath, or to a lesser extent, Molly? There are all sorts of possibilities. One theory is that I was somehow inoculated against it by taking the Gyre I’d made with the apple from the Atlas Tree. Another is that the Blood of the Matriarch protected me – after all, the 4th Matriarch didn’t have a problem when she ate the Arya apple and established original contact. Or maybe it’s because I have Cu’enashti sap in my bloodline – I must have, or I wouldn’t have visions when I take Gyre.
But the theory which seems to make the most sense has to do with the inherent nature of telepathy. General Panic’s taunt to Traeger was correct: telepaths don’t dream. This is why Hurley couldn’t have been a telepath. Ash’s consciousness is constructed from dreams. To Molly, it looked like insanity. And when she got to the center of it, there was nothing, a void. She couldn’t help seeing the void as emptiness. But that’s not what I saw. I saw a fullness, a pleroma.
My first impulse was to fall to my knees and break into tears. I was so small, such a pathetic, petty woman. What had I ever done to deserve the love of that magnificent being? All of time and space are within his grasp, and he wants to give it to me like a covered dish supper. I am reminded of a poem by Neruda, with the chorus, “Great love, small beloved.”
But then I saw the look on Patrick’s face, the absolute terror on Patrick’s face. I realized that any profession of love would only feed into his insecurity. He’d think I felt sorry for him. I needed to act completely normal, as though what had just happened meant nothing.
For me, completely normal was bashing Molly’s head into the wall.
Epilogue – There followed several hours of the most violent lovemaking in my life, more so than Cillian had ever inflicted upon me, or I had ever inflicted upon Callum. Lorcan and I were covered in scratches and bite marks, as though our skins had become an obstacle to the intimacy we craved. He looked at me then and said, “I never thought that you would understand the measure of my desperation.” I laughed in his face, replying, “Foolish boy – haven’t you realized the purpose of your existence is to understand the depth of mine?” I saw his blue eyes unclouded for the first time, and I fell into them, fell ridiculously in love. We were inseparable companions for several weeks. Unfortunately, there was nothing of justice or mercy in my government during that giddy time, and – perhaps wisely on Ash’s part – it ended when I awoke one morning in Cillian’s arms.