Secret Places and Hidden Things

Chapter Six

"This is good," she said to herself.

"Is it?" someone asked. "We would not know."

Jain stiffened and looked around her. There was no one there. She was standing high on a ledge, her white hair blowing freely around her shoulders. Her village had disappeared below, along with the sea and anything else recognizable. The trees had changed, the smells had changed. It was humid here, and everything was so much more alive.

"Where are you? Who are you?" she asked quickly.

"Where? We aren't certain about 'where.' We are here, we believe, just as you are."

She had left her village that morning with nothing but her bleached traveling gown and a small pack of food. Something had called her out into the woods, and then beyond the woods to some other place entirely—somewhere secret, and old, and very still.

"Show yourself, then," she said, her voice shaking.

The air around her wrinkled like fabric and gathered into folds in front of her. As the folds wrapped around each other, a body formed. It was neither male nor female, and only vaguely human. The face was strange and bony, with pale pink eyes that pointed in opposite directions. The torso was also human, but the creature had far too many spindly legs. All around it long streamers of hair floated weightlessly like spider silk, covering its head and back and entangling its legs. It didn't seem to be wearing clothing. "Will this do?" the creature asked, though its mouth didn't move.

"I'm not sure," Jain answered. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"We can only do our best to copy you. We have not seen anything like you before, either."

"But I'm just a person," Jain said. "Surely you've seen people."

"Yes, we believe we have," the creature said, "but people have many different shapes." This time it moved its mouth in a chewing motion that didn't sync with its speech.

Jain smiled tentatively and the creature copied her in an unsettling way.

"So, you've answered where you are, but not who you are."

"Have we? We aren't really here, if you would like the barest truth. This is just a representation, like all things you see. As for who we are, we do not understand the question. What does 'who' mean?"

"Oh..." Jain wasn't sure how to explain this.

"Perhaps you wish to know our function? We are the weaving mechanism. Or perhaps you wish to know our origin? We are without one."

"What do you weave?"

"We weave the various perceptions as they appear."

"Which perceptions?"

"All of them."

Jain thought for a moment.

"Well, that must be a great deal of work."

"It is, but we do not mind," it said, shifting its legs as if it had suddenly discovered gravity. "We do not sleep."

The creature seemed to be getting a better grasp of conversation. It had graduated to moving its lips. Its face had become less strange as well. It could be called beautiful, in a way, just as a snail's shell or a polished rock is beautiful. It still didn't look human—though it did look kind.

"Are you weaving right now?"

"We are always weaving. It is a part of us, like the rhythm driving those rivers inside you."

Jain smiled suddenly. "You can help me! Do you weave life?"

The creature blinked slowly, trying out its eyelids for the first time. Long, dark lashes sprouted outward like butterfly wings. It blinked a second time, more quickly.