Being the Suun

by J. A. Culican

“I am.” The mine workers disappeared into the dark tunnel, and the distant sound of echoing hammers and squeaking carts rang from the entrance. “With or without your help.”

  They both stood as if connected by a string I couldn’t see.

  “Without, then,” Estrid said. “Good luck.”

  “It’s not about luck,” I shouted at their retreating backs, all semblance of stealth gone. “It’s cunning and planning and bravery.”

  “You have the last in spades,” Estrid said over her shoulder. “Maybe someday you‘ll admit that you need us for the other two.”

  As I stood there and watched their retreating backs, I realized she was probably right. But I would never admit it, not in a million years.

  I stayed on the hill until nightfall. I spent my time wallowing in self-pity. I’d never felt so alone. Not just physically alone but alone in my decisions. I’d always shared my steps with Erik and Estrid, and been glad to do so, but I couldn’t help but feel they were leading me down the wrong path this time, blindfolds over their eyes.

  When no one had come to get me by the time even the miners had gone home, I decided it was time to swallow a bit of my pride and return to the pub. My stomach growled, desperate for something to fill it, even if it was Gerves’s stew. The walk back to town was uneventful, though I kept expecting Aysche to lunge at me out of the shadows just to really round out a truly awful day.

  She didn’t. The streets were practically empty, everyone at home enjoying dinner. I thought about going to the rooming house where Harbin stayed instead and trying to bum dinner off of his landlord, but decided against it. The old lady who ran the rooming house was grumpy on a good day and was just as likely to run me off as to pull out a chair for me. The pub was at least a sure thing.

  I was both disappointed and relieved that when I arrived. The pub was crawling with patrons, but none of them were related to me. I stood in the doorway, surveying the crowd.

  Grissall rushed past me, not even glancing in my direction, a pitcher of water in one hand and a tray of loaded plates in the other. There was a group of miners in one corner, given away by the grime on their faces and clothes and the way their shoulders slumped with exhaustion over their mugs of ale. Some sailors were here, too, but Harbin was nowhere to be seen.

  But what drew my attention the most was the figure at the bar.

  A woman wearing a deep-purple dress, her thick golden hair falling in loose waves down her back. It was Savarah, leaning on the bar. When she saw me watching, she raised a glass at me with a small twist of her lips.

  I cut through the crowd and approached her, dropping back the hood of my cloak.

  “Drink?” Gerves asked me from behind the bar.

  “No, thanks.” I turned to Savarah. “Where is Tsarra?”

  “Gone,” Savarah answered shortly.

  “Gone?”

  “Back to Lamruil on a ship that departed at midday.”

  “What about Arun Phina?”

  She waved a hand up and down the length of her body. “That’s why I’m here. Her trusted advisor to oversee the rescue mission.” She took another long drink from her mug and then set it back on the counter, turning away and looking over the dining room. “It’s strange . . .”

  “What?” I surveyed the room with her. It looked pretty normal to me, though there was a subtle tension passing over the gathered diners, a whisper starting at one end of the room and rolling from ear to ear.

  “This place hasn’t changed a bit, not in all these years.”

  “This place? You mean you’ve been here before?” I laughed mirthlessly. “Why would you come back?”

  One of the sailors glanced over his shoulder at one of the miners, then whispered to a friend. Grissall walked between them, glancing nervously around. She felt it too.

  “Barepost born and raised,” Savarah said. “My father worked in these very mines. But it was a long time ago.”

  I looked at her sideways, eyes skimming over her smooth skin. “It couldn’t have been that long ago.”

  This time, she laughed. “Longer than you might think.”

  “How did you leave?” I asked her. “It doesn’t seem that many people do.”

  Her eyes grew distant, and even though she was watching the dining room, I knew she wasn’t seeing it. “It’s crazy, the things a girl will do for love.”

  The room erupted. Even though I’d had my eyes on the diners, I didn’t see how it happened. All of a sudden, men were leaping back from tables, scattering dishes and chairs, and two of them were lunging at each other. I pushed off of the bar.

  Savarah didn’t move, her eyes on the brawl as if it were a beautiful work of art meant to be admired.

  “We have to stop them!” I shouted at her.

  She waved a slender hand at me in obvious dismissal. “Why put an end to all the fun?” Her eyes sparkled.

  Gerves came around the bar, a galestone pistol in one hand. It was a rare and dangerous weapon, and firing it in this crowd would only create more chaos. I followed him, leaving Savarah behind.

  “You get the miner,” I told him and then launched myself at the sailor who straddled the other man, pummeling him in the face and chest. He and I rolled, his fists still swinging.

  “Someone has gone for the guard,” Grissall’s raspy voice shouted over the din.

  “Let them come.” The miner strained against Gerves’s hold on his arms.

  I was glad to at least see him on his feet, but the distraction got the better of me when the sailor’s fist connected with my jaw. I slammed the unfamiliar man’s head back against the stone floor with just enough force to stun him. When he looked up at me, he blinked once, then again, like a man just waking up, confused by his surroundings.

  Before I could ask him any questions, though, the door burst open, and three men in uniform thundered inside, louder than anything else in the room.

  I jerked the sailor to his feet. He was still moving slow, holding one hand to his head.

  “I already looked,” I told him. “You’re not bleeding.”

  The guard, a younger man I’d often seen trailing Luthair, bound the sailor’s hands with a length of rope and grabbed him by his collar. “Let’s go. A couple days down below ought to be enough to cool you off. Then maybe you’ll think twice about throwing punches in any of our fine establishments.”

  That was it.

  As I watched them go and the others began to put the room back to rights, the spark of an idea, which had been a mere ember in the dark, caught fire and roared to life.

  “Are you all right, Frida?” Savarah asked, a hand on my shoulder.

  A shiver snaked its way from my shoulder down my spine. I turned away from her, hoping not to make it too obvious that I’d rather not have her touch me. “I know what to do. How to get into the mine.”

  “You do?” She leaned toward me, that same easy smile on her face that made me feel like she already knew what I was going to say. “How?”

  “It’s not a matter of sneaking in at all.” The excitement was brewing inside of me. I finally had a plan. I could finally take some action. I smiled back at her for maybe the first time since we’d met. “I’m going to walk right in. And Luthair’s going to be the one to put me there.”

  Chapter 6

  The light was still on in Harbin’s second-floor room when I arrived that night. It cast a dull orange glow on the overgrown garden below, a glow I was careful to avoid as I picked up a couple of small stones, which were in no short supply. I tossed the first one, and it glanced off of the window pane. A couple of breaths later, I threw the second, then the third. It took five pebbles before I saw movement inside and heard the glass slide open.

  Harbin’s head appeared, a dark shadow against the light. “Frida?”

  I stepped into the light. “Come to the wharf with me.” It was the best place I could think of to get drunk and pick a fight. I couldn’t do it at the Gold Mine. Erik and Estrid would haul me away before I could get a p
unch in. But every night, the sailors and dock-workers who hadn’t sailed out that day gathered on the ships and played cards and drank ale from unclaimed casks. It was known to get rowdy. A fight there would be commonplace.

  “The wharf?” Harbin scratched his head and looked up and down the street as if searching for my accomplices. “Why are you going to the wharf?”

  I jingled my purse, full of a couple pennies Gerves gave me for putting to rights the dining room after the fight and washing the night’s dishes. “I’m feeling lucky.”

  “That would be a change.” Harbin shut the window. The light in his room extinguished, and a few moments later, the front door to the rooming house creaked slowly open. He emerged dressed in loose, dark clothes, still strapping on his sword belt as he fell into step beside me.

  We walked to the wharf on the road lit only by the eerie blue light of Gleet that cast everything in strange relief, like being underwater.

  When we were beyond the limits of town, Harbin turned to me. “Maybe now you’ll tell me the real reason we’re going to the wharf.”

  I shrugged. “I told you.”

  “A couple pennies burning a hole in your purse? I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve saved every coin that has passed through your fingertips, each one bringing you a bit closer to escaping Bruhier.” He took a couple steps ahead and turned around, walking backward in front of me. “No, whatever we’re doing, you’ve got a plan. And I want to know what it is before I get involved. And more likely than not, seriously injured.”

  “Fine.” I laughed and stopped walking.

  He leaned in close.

  Maybe a little too close, but at least I could whisper this way. “I’m going to go play some cards, drink some ale, throw some punches, and get myself arrested.”

  He furrowed his brow. “What? Why? That makes even less sense.”

  So I told him everything—about Tsarra Trisfina and Arun Phina and their promise to get us home. When I finished, we stood on the edge of the hill that led to the wharf. Lanterns burned on ships’ decks, and the sounds of music and laughter drifted up to us.

  “I may never see you again after tonight,” Harbin said suddenly. “If you free the elf and escape the mine.”

  A big if, to be sure. I glanced over at him. “Don’t be silly. You’re a sailor and I’m an adventurer. Our paths will cross again if they’re meant to.”

  This late, there was no one operating the lift so we had to take the path down, a switchback staircase carved into the stone, worn slick from use over the years. The iron railing was slippery with sea spray, but I held on tight, following Harbin to the wooden docks below.

  We boarded the Gem, where Harbin was greeted heartily by his crewmates and I was mostly ignored, which was fine by me. The card table was set up on the main deck, and there was a crowd around it, but only a few men were sitting. Most I didn’t recognize, but then my eyes fell on one who looked even more out of place than I did. And his female companion.

  Aysche Luthair and her on-again, off-again beau, Jesper Chauzin. Around them, a group of Jesper’s friends gathered, distinguishable by their clean gold-trimmed tunics and polished boots.

  This was even better than I could have imagined.

  As I pulled out one of the empty chairs and took a seat, Jesper’s eyes met mine. He nudged Aysche, who stood behind him, and even though I looked quickly away, I felt the moment she found me sitting at the card table and fought to keep a smile off my face.

  Jesper was Stephan Luthair’s lieutenant, his second-in-command. And he hated me just as much as his employer did. He hated anyone who didn’t fall in line and do as they’re told. He had a sour expression on a head that was too small for the rest of him. His hair was always greased into place, and his face was plagued with acne because of it. Aysche didn’t mind, of course—he had money and power. What more could a girl want?

  Harbin took the seat beside me, placing two mugs of ale on the table between us.

  “I see where this is going.” He lifted his drink to his lips. He may not have lived in Barepost full time, but he knew the politics all the same. Besides, he’d grown up with Aysche and Jesper, and I didn’t think he would mind if they got their asses kicked.

  “Just keep them coming,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “What is she doing here?” Aysche asked loudly enough that most of the activity around the table stopped.

  The dealer—a man from town I recognized but didn't know by name—gave the cards one last shuffle and then banged them on the table. He glanced at me and then away, his demeanor unconcerned, but I knew he also didn't likely want to lose Jesper’s money. “The Svand? Is she a cheat?”

  Aysche huffed. “Probably.”

  He looked at me again. “Are you a cheat?”

  I took a long swing of the ale and wiped my mouth on my sleeve. It was quiet enough that I could hear the water slapping against the ship’s hull. “No. I’ve never actually played before.” It wasn't a lie, not really. Estrid and Erik had never let me play, but I'd watched so many of their games that I knew what I was doing.

  The dealer’s eyes lit up. “She’s fine to stay.”

  “If she stays, then I’m leaving.” Aysche stood, smoothing down her yellow skirts. “Come on, Jesper.”

  Instead of glaring at me, Jesper was looking longingly at the card table. “But—”

  I stole Harbin’s mug and drained it, and then pushed myself to my feet, bracing my hands on the table as my head spun. “You afraid, Luthair?”

  She gathered herself up and did her best to look down her nose at me in spite of the fact that I towered over her. “Yes. We should all fear monsters.”

  “Funny how sometimes the worst monsters wear the prettiest faces.”

  The insult hit home.

  “Now look here, D’ahvol.” Jesper stood, coming between Aysche and me. “You can't just—”

  “Trash!” Aysche shouted, interrupting her own defender. “What right do you have to even address me? You and your family are no better than my uncle's slaves.”

  Slaves? The flush that rose in my cheeks had nothing to do with the ale that was working its way through my system.

  Harbin rose to his feet beside me.

  “Everyone, just calm down.” The dealer pushed his chair away from the table, out of the line of fire.

  “I suggest you leave immediately, D’ahvol, or I’ll be forced to call the governor.” Jesper wagged a finger at me, keeping his other hand on Aysche’s shoulder.

  “I’m counting on it.” My fist connected with his nose with a satisfying crunch. The blow sent him stumbling back a step until his legs hit the chair, and he collapsed onto it, holding his face in his hands.

  “She hit me,” he wailed, his voice even more annoying than normal, muffled and high-pitched.

  I shook out my hand and smiled at him.

  One of the other boys with Jesper launched himself over the table, taking a valiant leap that knocked me flat beneath him. His weight was crushing but only briefly. Harbin hefted him off of me, and the two of them went scrambling after each other across the deck. I pushed to my feet and took in the chaos around me.

  The men and women of the Gem didn't need much of a reason to brawl with the uppity group that had come with Jesper and Aysche, and they were doing a fine job of it. Seemingly out of nowhere, a man in sailor’s garb flew across the card table, sending the table itself toppling to the floor. He stood, brushed himself off, and ran back into the melee, laughing with glee.

  Jesper had had enough time to recover by now. He cleared the distance between us in two steps, and I met him just as eagerly, blocking his first swing with my arm and coming up underneath with an uppercut to his gut. Grabbing his stomach, he doubled over, and I brought my knee up to meet his face. His hands shot out and grabbed my thigh, pulling me off-balance and sending me toppling back against the deck, my hands slamming against the ro
ugh wood. I swiped my legs at him, catching him around the ankles and pulling him down with me.

  We grappled for a moment there on the deck, each of us winning and then losing the advantage, rolling and scrabbling, hands blindly grasping for purchase against each other’s faces. He dug a thumb into one of my eyes, and I shrieked and rolled, straddling him, one of my hands wrapped around his neck.

  “Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to do this?” I didn’t expect an answer. His hands were on my wrist, trying to tug me away. I wasn’t squeezing hard, not really. I didn’t want to kill him and spend the rest of my life in the mine. I just needed a little bruising to show for my efforts.

  When he bucked his hips, I let go, sliding off of him and scrambling to my feet, ready to continue our battle until I felt the tip of something cold against the back of my neck. I raised my hands in surrender and slowly turned to find a guard in black uniform, his sword leveled at my face.

  Aysche stood beside him, a smug smile on her lips, her yellow dress neat and clean.

  I bared my teeth at her.

  “Why am I not surprised to find you here, Svand?” The guard seemed to know who I was, though I had never seen him before. Or if I had, I didn’t remember him. He looked just like every other guard in Barepost. Our reputation really had grown.

  I grinned at him in response, my chest heaving from the excitement.

  “Take her weapons.”

  Someone else stepped forward and removed my ax and my sword from their sheaths at my sides. I hadn’t even drawn them in the excitement.

  I chanced a look around and saw that several sailors were held as I was. I didn’t see Harbin among them, but none of Jesper’s friends were under arrest. They were all broken and bloody, nursing their wounds. Jesper was no exception. He sat with his head tilted back, pinching the bridge of his bleeding nose. I didn’t even realize I had his blood on my hands until that moment when I looked down at the red smears on my fingers and arms.

  Aysche ignored Jesper and clung to the guard holding me at sword-point. She turned a cold gaze on me. “My uncle won’t stand for this.” Her voice carried a healthy dose of bravado, which was a surprising amount for someone who’d been scared witless only moments before. “You’ll pay this time, Svand. Mark my words.”