Unquiet Land

by Sharon Shinn

  “Even then,” Chandran said. “I would not be the one to carry out the sentence. I have done with vengeance. I am not suited to the aftermath of regret.”

  Leah was chasing down an errant memory. “You told me once—back in Malinqua—you said that you would change the situation that led you to act but that you weren’t sorry for what you actually did. Feeling as you do now, would you still have— Would you still have killed her? Or would you simply have left?”

  He thought it over for a long time. “I would have tried to find some other way to disable her,” he said at last. “But I could not have simply left her to operate at will.” He glanced at her. “Perhaps I am not as reformed as I would like to think. But at any rate, I will never offer harm to you.”

  So you once thought about Dederra, Leah thought, she of the pale cheeks and elegant hands. “I have never been in a situation when I thought the world would be a better place if someone was dead,” Leah said. “I don’t know how I would act then.”

  “I hope you are never offered the opportunity to find out.”

  “But we have come to a decision? You will stay—for a while at least—and we will try to determine how to go forward? You will not simply pretend you have agreed to this scheme and then sail away tomorrow?”

  “I promise to let you know if I plan to change my circumstances,” he said.

  “Then why don’t you come back in the morning? You can work for me this time. See if you like that.”

  “Unless my presence here makes you uneasy.”

  “Annova will be here. And probably dozens of customers. We won’t be alone.”

  “Then I will see you in the morning,” he said, reaching for the door again.

  She raised her voice to make sure she had his attention. “You realize,” she said, “that there is no safety for you in Welce, either. There is a contingent of Karkans here—three that I have seen, and doubtless more acting as spies. Who knows how many others might be on the way? Some of them are from the royal house and might be familiar with your face if you and your wife ever spent much time in such circles.”

  Chandran nodded. “We did. And the thought occurred to me. But they have no reason to think I would come to this country—no reason to be looking for me here—and many other matters to occupy their minds. I will be reasonably vigilant and hope to escape notice.”

  Now he opened the door, but Leah kept coming up with more questions to ask, reasons to make him stay and talk for another minute, another five. “Have you found a place to stay? I could recommend certain parts of town.”

  “Thank you, I have taken rooms near the Plaza of Men.”

  “All right. Then I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He nodded, glanced back at her one last time, and quietly exited the shop.

  Leah stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door.

  Was she a fool for wanting to trust him or a cold-blooded cynic for not believing in him with her whole heart? Had he spun her a story calculated to stir her emotions or bravely presented her with his darkest secret, believing it to be safe in her hands? Was he a good man or a bad man? How could she possibly be expected to judge?

  The hour was late, she was exhausted, and it was out of her way, but Leah went to the nearest temple in search of guidance. She was lucky that, only a few steps out of the shop district, she came upon one of the for-hire elaymotives and bargained with the driver not only to take her to the temple, but also to wait for her while she went in to draw her blessings. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t have been able to make the entire trek on foot.

  She had thought the place might be deserted, but no—three people were there already. An old man sat on the red sweela bench, meditating silently, not bothering to open his eyes when she stepped in. And a young couple cuddled together on the green torz bench, looking away from each other long enough to give her quick smiles. The man had his hand pressed against the woman’s flat belly, and she had her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. They could not make it any more obvious that they were deeply in love.

  “I’ll draw blessings for you if you’ll draw some for me,” Leah told them in a quiet voice, trying not to disturb the old man. But as soon as she spoke, he opened one eye, seemed to shake himself awake, and pushed himself to his feet. He was short, thin, and a little frail, but his eyes were fiercely alert. Had to be sweela.

  “Let us all participate in the ritual,” he said, approaching the blessing barrel in the middle of the room. The rest of them crowded around it alongside him.

  “I’ll go first, if no one else wants to,” the woman said shyly. So the other three stirred the coins and chose blessings and handed them over. Fertility. Hope. Love. Each one made her smile grow a little wider. “Oh! This is so— I haven’t even told my parents yet, but—my husband and I are having a baby!”

  “You are to be congratulated,” the old man said, and Leah couldn’t stop herself from giving the woman a hug.

  “How exciting!” Leah said. “Your first?”

  The young man laughed. “I might not be so terrified if it were our second or third!” He didn’t look terrified. He looked delighted.

  “Let’s see what blessings the father receives,” Leah said. They were equally propitious: Steadfastness. Patience. And again love. “I foresee a happy life for this lucky child,” Leah said.

  “Oh, I hope so,” the woman replied.

  They drew a much different set of blessings for the sweela man: Clarity. Persistence. Triumph. The collection of coins made his thin mouth turn up in a small smile. Leah thought that, of the four of them gathered in the temple right now, he was probably leading the most interesting life.

  Although her own had gotten decidedly more interesting in the past night and day.

  “Now you!” the woman said gaily, searching through the barrel for just the right coin. “It’s surprise,” she said, showing Leah the glyph. “I hope it’s a happy one!”

  Had it been? “I hope so, too,” Leah replied.

  The young father presented her with the coin showing the sign for honor. One that Leah had carried throughout her lifetime, one that Chandran had recently claimed, one that could very well apply to the story he had told tonight. Or not. “I always think this is a good blessing to have,” he said.

  “It can be a bleak one,” the sweela man demurred.

  “Yes, but it is a good starting place,” the father argued. “You can build on honor.”

  “You can build on happiness, too,” the other man retorted.

  Plainly hoping to head off a philosophical discussion, the pregnant woman gestured at the sweela man. “Then you pick the next one for her to build upon.”

  Leah was hoping for something comforting like certainty or kindness, but it seemed the temple had run out of comfort once it had painted a bright future for the young couple. The disk the other man handed to her was featureless, worn smooth from much handling. “Ghost coin, I’m afraid,” he said. “Not much guidance there.”

  Leah tried not to sigh. “That’s the way it’s been going lately,” she said. “I’ll figure it out on my own.”

  The young man put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “Let’s get you home. I know you’re tired.”

  On the words, she yawned, then laughed. “If I can walk that far!”

  “I hired an elaymotive,” Leah said. “If anyone wants a ride.” She looked at the old man. “You, too. There should be room for all of us.”

  “Only if you allow me to pay,” he said.

  Leah laughed out loud. “I’ll split it with you,” she offered. “I had a good day in terms of finances.”

  “Then I accept.”

  The young man seemed undecided, though his wife looked hopeful. Leah’s deduction was that they didn’t have much money, but he didn’t want to shirk their responsibilities. He be
gan, “Perhaps we should—” but the sweela man interrupted him.

  “Our gift to the unborn child,” he said. “You can’t refuse.”

  So they all crowded into the elaymotive, and Leah asked what names they might be considering, and the wife chattered happily about nieces and nephews and how she’d always loved babies. It seemed like mere minutes before they were in front of Leah’s lodgings and she was handing a few quint-silvers to the sweela man. “An unexpectedly pleasant ending to a day full of unexpected encounters,” she said as she climbed out.

  The wife waved to her through the window. “Like the coin said—surprise!” she called as the elaymotive sped off.

  Leah smiled, waved, and turned toward her building, practically into the arms of Darien Serlast. She muffled a gasp and took a step back.

  “Like the girl said,” he repeated, “surprise.”

  She recovered her equilibrium. “It’s been that kind of day.”

  “I hear you wanted to speak with me. I wasn’t free till now.”

  Neither was I. “I’m so tired I’m not sure I’ll be coherent, but if you have a few minutes, come upstairs with me,” she invited. “I don’t think this will take long.”

  He glanced over one shoulder, raising his hand in a signal to whatever driver or guard detail undoubtedly waited for him in the shadows, and then followed her inside. In a few moments, they were seated at her small table and Leah was sipping cold keerza to help herself stay awake. Darien waited with his usual imperturbability as she gathered her scattered thoughts.

  “Last night near the Plaza of Men, I happened to come across three Karkans,” she said. “One was Seka Mardis, whom I met at the palace the other day.” Darien nodded. “Two were men I didn’t know, though I’d recognize one of them if I saw him again. The other wore a hood and kept his face hidden. But he was a tall man, and I might know him again just by his shape. And his voice.”

  “Were they doing anything particularly noteworthy?” Darien asked.

  “Not then. But something about them seemed furtive. I was curious, so I followed them when they took public transport south. And got off in the slums. At first I thought they might be lost, but then—I didn’t think so. They seemed like they’d gone there for a reason. Like they were looking for something.”

  “I can think of a dozen things people might go southside to find,” Darien said, “from drugs to prostitutes to unscrupulous individuals who would do anything for money.”

  “Oddly, what they seemed to be searching for was a young woman who looked more dead than alive. Not someone they already knew—someone they randomly found on the street.”

  Darien frowned. “What did they want with her?”

  “I don’t know. They took her into an abandoned building but I— Well, I was concerned. I interfered. They left her behind and disappeared into the night. I wasn’t fast enough to see where they went.” She shrugged. “I just thought you should know they are roaming around the city, being mysterious.”

  “Thank you. I’m not sure how to use the knowledge yet, but it’s useful to have.” He narrowed his gray eyes at her. “Have you had any other opportunities to speak to the Karkans? Or even the Soechins?”

  “Not yet. Perhaps some of them will come by my shop. If not—” She shrugged. “I’ll see if I can engineer an accidental meeting in one of the Plazas.”

  He nodded and rose to his feet. “Zoe tells me your first day was a rousing success,” he said. “So even if you fail as a spy, you appear poised to succeed as a retailer.”

  She accompanied him to the door, unable to hold back her yawn. “I like to think I’ve already been somewhat successful as a spy,” she retorted.

  “Indeed you have. Then let us hope you are equally adept in every endeavor you undertake.” He gave her another slight nod, she bowed in return, and he was out the door.

  She didn’t even go to the window to see him safely returned to his guards and driver. She merely pulled off her clothes and extinguished the lights as she crossed the room and fell into bed. She had a moment to think, This was the strangest day, and then she was asleep.

  • • •

  Leah’s second day as a shopkeeper was almost as momentous as the first. Fewer people actually walked through the doors, but many of them required special handling or came with their own emotional weight.

  As before, Annova was the first to arrive at the shop, and she was already hauling down fresh merchandise when Leah walked in that morning. “Do you never sleep?” Leah demanded. “Is that a function of being coru or of being older?”

  Annova was amused. “I sleep when I’m tired. I sleep when I’m bored. I’m enjoying myself here.”

  “So once you start finding this job tedious, you’ll show up late or not at all?”

  Annova gave her a quick glance as she carefully arranged red scarves around scented candles in a sweela display. “I understood that the shop was just a temporary enterprise until Darien learns what he wants to know.”

  “Well, that’s how it started.”

  “But you’re thinking of continuing it once the Karkans sail away?”

  Leah shrugged. She’d brought a pile of leftovers with her and was feeding them slowly to the reifarjin, and it gulped them down as if it hadn’t a meal in a nineday. “Like you said. I’m enjoying myself so far.”

  There was a shadow outside and Annova murmured, “Customers already?” but Leah recognized the shape at the door.

  “No,” she said. “I’ll explain.”

  Chandran stepped in and stood just over the threshold, looking around and awaiting an invitation. He probably figured she’d lain awake half the night, thinking things over; he wanted to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind about allowing him even partway into her life. Leah motioned him closer, and he joined them in the middle of the room.

  “Annova, this is Chandran. A merchant I worked for when I lived in Malinqua,” Leah said in Coziquela. She tried to keep her tone casual, but there were so many layers to her relationship with Chandran that she wasn’t able to achieve it. “I got in touch with him before I opened the shop, and he’s the one who sent me some of the best merchandise. And now he’s . . . here in Welce.”

  Annova was not easily fooled. She didn’t attempt to hide her long, slow inspection of the stranger, or her sideways look at Leah once she was done. But “An unexpected visit?” was all she asked.

  “Very unexpected,” he answered.

  “I asked him to come by and help us out,” Leah went on, still floundering a little as she tried to convey just enough information to explain his presence. “Since we’ve been so busy and he’s got so much experience working in a shop.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be a great help,” Annova answered.

  “Chandran, Annova is— Well, some people think she’s Zoe’s maid, but she’s really Zoe’s friend. Zoe is the coru prime. Oh, and the regent’s wife.” Very well, that might have been the most incoherent introduction she’d ever attempted. But it seemed that Annova was no easier to sum up than Chandran was. And, of course, Zoe had so many roles that it could take forever to list them. “Annova’s helping me out in the shop for as long as it holds her attention.”

  “You say that as if you expect her interest to quickly fade.”

  Annova smiled. “There are so many things to spend time on,” she explained. “It is hard to concentrate on just one.”

  “She says that,” Leah observed, “but she has been married to the same man for decades.”

  “Well, you’d have to know Calvin. He’s never boring.”

  Leah gestured around the shop. “We sold a lot yesterday, so we’re restocking—there’s a storeroom upstairs. You could help with that.”

  “Gladly,” he said. “But I thought of another way I could benefit you. I could write to my suppliers in Berringey and Cozique and ask them to deliver goods to me
here. It will take some time, even so, for new shipments to arrive.”

  “Write the letters. I’ll give them to Darien. He pays couriers and they’re very fast.”

  “First let’s display what we’ve already got,” Annova said practically. “You look strong. Come upstairs and move boxes for me.”

  They disappeared through the door in the back of the shop. Leah stared after them and thought how odd it was to see the different halves of her life come together.

  It would proceed to get odder.

  The first customers arrived while Chandran and Annova were still putting fresh items on the display tables. The newcomers were two middle-aged women and three girls who might have been in their teens. All were wearing expensive clothing and giving off airs of entitlement that came only with great wealth and privilege.

  “Oh, Seterre was right, it is a special place,” one of the women said. “Look at those shawls! How do you pick among them?”

  The youngest girl headed straight for the reifarjin and began tapping on the glass to get its attention. “He bites,” Leah called over to her. “Don’t put your fingers in the water.”

  The girl looked up. “Can I feed him?”

  “There’s food on the table in back. He eats anything.”

  One of the other two girls rolled her eyes and spoke to the third one. “Hundreds of beautiful things to look at and she wants to feed a fish.”

  The youngest girl cast her a look of scorn. “One live creature in the whole place and you’d rather play with dead things,” she retorted.

  Must be sisters, Leah thought. “There are six human beings here, too, unless we don’t count as live creatures,” she said.

  The younger girl glanced at the older one with loathing. “Some of the humans count.”

  If Leah had really been a shop owner, dependent on the success of this operation, she would have made it her mission to sell this young girl something—to find an item that stirred her imagination and woke in her a covetous desire. Chandran had always been so good at that—determining exactly what might appeal to a total stranger and presenting it in a way that made it irresistible. For someone who normally gave away so little information about himself, he had always been good at guessing other people’s secrets. He’d learned Leah’s the day he met her.