Memory by K. J. Parker Page A

sorry.’ Aciava scratched his ear. ‘And I haven’t brought anything else with me, because – well, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting this kind of attitude, all this suspicion and hostility. I thought that maybe you’d be in two minds about whether you’d want me to tell you about the past and all, but I didn’t anticipate that you wouldn’t believe me. It’s like I’d given you a cute little carved ivory box for your birthday and you’re demanding to see a receipt.’
    â€˜Really?’ Poldarn raised an eyebrow. ‘You told me you knew about what happened when I went to Deymeson. Didn’t it occur to you that after that I wasn’t likely to be in a hurry to believe anything a sword-monk tells me?’
    â€˜Now you put it like that,’ Aciava conceded, ‘I can see your point, sort of. But all right, then. You tell me what’d make you believe, and I’ll see what I can do.’
    Poldarn turned away and started raking out the hearth. ‘Why should I?’ he said. ‘If you’re lying, I’d be telling you how to deceive me.’
    â€˜Fine.’ Was there just a hint of impatience in Aciava’s voice? Or was that just play-acting too?
    â€˜I’ll tell you what I think, shall I? I think you still don’t want to know the truth about yourself, and not believing me’s the only way you can do it. If you can persuade yourself I’m lying, you can chicken out of learning who you used to be. Am I getting warm?’
    Poldan frowned; any warmer, and he wouldn’t have to bother lighting the fire. ‘You can think what you like,’ he said. ‘But maybe you should go and do it somewhere else. This is tricky work, and I need to concentrate.’
    Aciava yawned. ‘Not all that tricky,’ he said. ‘You’ve done the drawing down, so now all you need to do is bend the angles on a bick stake and punch the holes. Like I said,’ he added cheerfully, ‘I do my homework.’
    That, or he can read minds. ‘If you’re so smart, you do it.’
    â€˜Not likely. I’d get my hands dirty. Besides, my idea of research is looking stuff up in books. Except for sword drill, I’m what you might call physically inept. And I’m not here to do your work for you. I don’t think your outfit could afford me, for one thing.’
    Maybe it was the residue of a religious upbringing, Poldarn thought; this compulsion to fence, shadow-box, score points, even at the risk of seriously pissing off the person you were talking to. If so, it was the most convincing thing about Aciava. Unless it too was fake (homework, and attention to detail). ‘I see,’ he said. ‘So, what are you here for? We’ve established that it’s not just for a class reunion.’
    Aciava sighed. ‘Not just that, no. I need your help. Or— ’ He hesitated, as if he was trying to figure out how to put it tactfully. ‘I thought I could use your help. Now, no offence, but I’m not so sure. You’ve changed, you know. Hardly surprising, after all these years, and the stuff you’ve been through. I suppose I have, too. But you’re—’
    â€˜I’m what?’
    â€˜Smaller.’ There was a faint, sad smile on Aciava’s face. ‘You’ve lost something, you know? That hardened edge, that touch of devilment—’ He walked past Poldarn and sat on the small anvil. ‘It’s only a slight change, but it makes all the difference. Pity.’
    If Aciava was trying to be annoying, he certainly had the knack for it. ‘I’ve got no idea what you mean,’ Poldarn said.
    â€˜Don’t suppose you have.’ Aciava pulled a stick of dried meat out of his pocket, bit off the end and started to chew. ‘It’s all part of the tragedy, I guess. Not only have you lost that extra something that made you special, you don’t know you