by Sam Hawke
For the first time, everyone looked at me. I saw immediately that regardless of what Chen had said or we had hoped, rumors had reached some ears. Lazar flinched, looking away, and Javesto gave me an appraising look, his brows furrowed. A sinking, sick feeling churned my stomach. They were friendly colleagues at least, and I’d have thought they wouldn’t believe me capable of strangling someone, under the influence of narcotics or not.
Sjistevo dismissed me with a glance and glared at Salvea with a false bark of a laugh. “You may play a reasonable voice in this room, Councilor An-Salvea, but your daughter is not so politic! She hates my family, she’s open about it! She hates every Credol Family, anyone who isn’t Darfri, and now she and her friends are getting their revenge by—”
“It is absurd,” I said. “I’m sure there were a lot of Darfri celebrations last night, as we would hope and expect, given what we were honoring. I’ve no doubt witnesses saw Darfri groups, and likely they were singing and dancing, same as most of you probably were. But if we’re looking at crime and destruction I think we should be looking elsewhere.” So much for playing down my little mishap. “I came afoul of criminals myself last night, from the ‘Prince’s Hands,’ the same gang Captain Chen’s been warning us about, and we’ve been failing to resource her to deal with.” I pushed back awkwardly from the table and gestured at my bandaged ankle, my borrowed walking stick. Sjistevo and Karista peered curiously at me, forgetting to look affronted for a moment in their apparent surprise. If they’d known about it in advance, they were fine actors. But Javesto chewed thoughtfully at his lip, and Lazar was once again avoiding eye contact.
“Are you all right, Credo Jovan?” Budua asked, frowning over her glasses.
“Yes,” I said. “A simple mugging, maybe, though I’ll be interested to see whether there are other reports of robberies or whether I was singled out.” I looked around significantly, and saw a few faces twitch in response, whether out of alarm at the prospect of Credolen being targeted, or something else. “Fortunately for me, my young niece went for help and managed to find Hadrea. And then Hadrea stayed with me and organized a doctor, which would have rather put a cramp in any recreational fire starting, don’t you agree?” I smiled pleasantly. “I assume no one here is accusing me of setting fire to anyone’s boat.”
Sjistevo looked at me, then at Tain, then back. “Of course not,” he conceded. “But—”
“I suspect both of our problems would be better handled by the Order Guards than by half a hungover Council,” I continued, which elicited some chuckles and approving nods. The tension in the room was leaking out. “I’m sure most of you here would probably prefer to be spending this morning in bed with a quiet pot of tea.”
Budua got to her feet. “I daresay,” she agreed. “Anything you need from us, Chancellor?”
Tain shook his head. “I agree with Credo Jovan that more attention needs to be focused on these organized criminals, so I propose we discuss that as a matter of priority at our next scheduled meeting.” He gestured wearily to the pile of messages he’d left on the table. “This is just from last night alone. Reports of thefts and property destruction over the city—the Ash boat was far from the only thing damaged. The hospital is reporting dozens of people with alcohol- and drug-related issues this morning, not to mention a man’s apparently been murdered at a party.”
I felt eyes on me, and kept my face bland as if I’d not heard anything about it. Not just Lazar, but also the Warrior-Guilder and one of the estate representatives were looking at me now. I counted breaths, trying to stay focused. Blood rushed to my cheeks. I had spoken out against the use of recreational drugs on multiple occasions. Did they think me such a hypocrite?
“I’ll bring Captain Chen in for a full report next week. We’ve avoided dealing with this drug issue too long.” Tain turned wearily to Sjistevo. “Credo, the Guards and the harbormaster can work out what happened to your boat. As long as your family filed the proper papers I’m sure there’ll be no difficulty reconciling your lost goods.”
People stood and began to move toward the door. Sjistevo stared at me, unblinking, muscles of his jaw working silently. He looked both furious and flummoxed. Karista, by his side, glared at me with dislike and calculation. But they both stood eventually and made to leave.
“Wait.” Salvea, gentlest and calmest person I knew, was now visibly shaking with rage. “No, I do not think we should move on quite so quickly. Credo Sjistevo owes my family an apology for the disgusting accusation.”
“I had good evidence, Councilor,” he said stiffly. “I accept Credo Jovan’s testimony as to your daughter’s whereabouts, but how was I to know that in advance?”
“Not just to us,” Salvea said, as if he hadn’t spoken. “You owe an apology to every Darfri person in this room, and the ones not here. You have insulted us all with your childish claims. Our focus has always—always—been to restore the tah that has been diminished by the Credol Families, yours more than any other. An-Ostada is a woman of impeccable honor and integrity and she is training her students—our children, whose heritage would have forever been denied them if your family had its way—to restore that balance. These are honorable young people learning to right the wrongs of the past, and you accuse them of such low behavior. It is unacceptable.”
“I had good evidence,” he repeated, his face very tight.
“I understand the fire was quite sudden and alarming, Salvea,” Moest, the Warrior-Guilder, said gently. “Witnesses heard chanting and drumming. Likely it was just singing, or even just some passing Darfri locals, like Credo Jovan said, but you must understand how it could call to mind the most frightening parts of the siege for some people.”
“I must understand?” Her voice went up several notes. “Why is it always us who must understand, who must be tolerant and polite, to not make you uncomfortable? Darfri songs are our heritage—not just mine, yours too! Our culture is not some alien and dangerous practice to be greeted with suspicion and blame!”
“Salvea,” Tain said. She whipped her head to face him and something passed between them; was that a plea in his eyes, or an admonishment? Whatever it was, it sapped her energy; she closed her mouth and dropped her gaze. There was a long silence. Then he cleared his throat. “I agree, you are owed an apology. And I offer mine, not just for this incident but for all the ones preceding it. Some have been wont to blame Darfri for every problem that materializes. We have to do better.” He gave Sjistevo a hard look. “Don’t you agree, Credo?”
Sjistevo did not resemble his late aunt Nara in looks, but for a moment I could see her looking out with familiar calculating bitterness from his narrowed eyes. But the Ash family had been dishonored by the revelations about estate behavior and his influence on the Council accordingly lowered. He didn’t strike me as particularly intelligent but nor was he a fool. “I apologize, Councilor,” he said, inclining his head dramatically. “I apologize to all Darfri. My distress at the malicious damage left my emotions high. It must have been an unfortunate coincidence.”
Or another way of discrediting me, and those close to me. Of course the Ashes and the Lekas, even the Reeds to some extent, had an inherent interest in turning Council sentiment against the Darfri. Their bitterness about being forced to make right some of the wrongs we had caused was equal only to their resentment that the Darfri spirits could not be trotted out to do our bidding when convenient. They could have started the rumor themselves. But I couldn’t help but wonder if our enemies had taken advantage of yet another opportunity to sow discord. Our city was balanced in a strange state, with most of its residents—me included—indisputably convinced of the existence of supernatural forces, but lacking the foundational religious beliefs that put those forces in a context we could make sense of. It was such an obvious pressure point for the Council, consisting as it did of an uneasy mix of the old Families, the Guilders, and the regional representatives. To have Darfri residents openly using magic against fellow citizens would make a lie of
the restrictions on the use of fresken An-Ostada had insisted on, and re-emphasize the differences we had worked so hard to blur.
On the way out of the room Lazar made accidental eye contact with me and then brushed past so fast he almost knocked me over, unbalanced as I was with the walking stick. Someone caught me by the elbow and steadied me; I turned to thank them and found Credo Javesto at my side. He had puffy lumps under his eyes, and a certain delicacy in his movements suggested he’d enjoyed the festivities rather well the previous night.
“Be careful there now,” he said. I readjusted the stick and nodded a bit stiffly. I tried to sound natural but my thanks sounded wrong, high and tight. He glanced over his shoulder, then, satisfied no one else was paying attention, dropped his voice. “My nephew’s in the Order Guards, Jovan. He told me they interviewed you this morning.”
I opened my mouth to respond but he held up a hand, shaking his head conciliatorily. “He said Chen’s blaming it on a bad witness. But some of the Guards who talked to her first found her rather convincing, describing you there. Listen, friend, I’ve had a party or two myself that’s gotten out of hand. Happens to the best of us. I’ve not—”
“Like I told Chen,” I replied, trying to keep my response pleasant, my tone light. Javesto wasn’t a bad sort, but he certainly had a reputation for enjoying a party and I didn’t need him sympathetically trying to relate. “I was never at any party last night. I took my niece out and then I was mugged.”
“I’ve no doubt this was all a mistake,” Javesto reassured me, but the way he smoothed his beard down his round chin and glanced away as he said it put a lie to that statement. “I just thought it best you knew that unless—until!—the investigation turns up the real killer, it’s possible there will be … talk. My nephew told me as he knows I hold you in the highest regard. But the witness spoke to more than one Guard, and, well, you know how things are. With the play, and with Bradomir, and—”
“You might remember I was the only one who thought Bradomir was assassinated,” I said, irritated to be proved right in my theory. “The Lekas said he had a heart condition and everyone acted like I was a lunatic for saying there was an assassin. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It’s just … it’s one more thing, Jovan,” Javesto said, almost a whisper. He cleared his throat. “Some people have started to take notice. Things have gone well for the Oromanis since the siege, you know as well as I do, and it just seems your political rivals don’t last for long, anymore. People are starting to say the fortunes may favor you a little too much.” Seeing my face, he shook his head again, raising both hands. “I warn you out of friendship! I stood by you at the battle of the bridge, did I not? Raised a sword in this pudgy ill-suited arm to defend you and what you said was right? And I owe you my life for getting us safely out of the fire, don’t think I’d ever forget. I’m just warning you people are talking. Keep your head down for a bit, eh? Don’t make things worse.”
Before I could respond, Tain turned and called out to me, and when I glanced back it was to see Javesto’s retreating back, hurrying from the room.
I wanted to tell Tain we’d been right about how my reputation was being attacked, but Erel was waiting for us right outside with an armful of daily reports, along with the Manor undersecretary, and two more officials from the karodee planning committee whose names I’d forgotten; I nodded along and racked my brain to remember them as they rattled off things that needed attending to. There were last preparations for the closing ceremony in three days’ time, and additional dramas that had sprung up overnight, including an outbreak of a contagious pox among some of the karodee committee members and key staff—“Of all the timing!” one of them exclaimed—as well as property damage and robberies in the industrial district affecting the engineer Baina’s stores, and potentially putting her much-anticipated closing ceremony display at risk.
“That’s dangerous stuff to steal,” Tain muttered as he ran a finger down a list. “Chemicals and such. Baina thinks the thieves might dump them once they realize they’re not useful to sell, and they’re all pretty toxic. We’ll have to put out alerts in case anything ends up near the canals or the lake.”
“The sky fire display won’t be affected, will it?” one of the committee members asked, twisting her scarf ends between her fingers anxiously. “That’s the crowning glory of the evening! Without that the whole thing will be spoilt. What will we all do in the dark?”
I quickly lost track of the conversation. The possibility we might have to close the karodee without all of the intended entertainments wasn’t exactly my top worry right now. Our enemies had made a move against me yesterday, but not a fatal one; what we needed to know was what was coming next. We were missing something, I was sure.
And I had the strongest sense we were about to run out of time to work it out.
* * *
It was hours before I finally saw Hadrea to warn her about what had happened at the impromptu Council meeting this morning. She turned up at the apartments, her brother Davi racing in beside her. “It is windy today,” she said, shaking her coat off and striding in. She’d obviously had a better rest than either of us; she looked energetic, vital even, her skin clear and eyes bright, and her wind-tangled hair clean and shining. I felt, like I often did when seeing her unexpectedly, as if someone had just winded me. “How are you both feeling?”
“The ankle’s sore and it hurts to breathe,” I said. “And I feel like I’m going to have a headache for a week. But otherwise, great.”
Davi, who even now retained the wary, wild-animal air about him when around me, edged around the back of the room. “Hi, Davi,” Kalina said, and he shot her a bright smile in return. “Dee’s in her room, if you want to go say hi. She’s been sick but she’s all right now.”
He didn’t need telling twice, skidding out of sight, a fistful of cards in his hand.
“Some of the schoolchildren taught him how to play fire-fire,” Hadrea said, smiling indulgently at her disappearing brother. “No, no, do not get up. You both need rest.” She settled down with us instead, scrubbing her hair out of her face and winding an affectionate arm around my waist. Her hair smelled like rain as she leaned on my shoulder. “Has our northern friend been identified yet?”
We filled her in on what we’d learned over the course of the day, including what Chen had reported to Tain about the house the body had been found in—now deserted, but according to the neighbors, owned by a rich merchant family who had let their home out for the duration of karodee. They would not be the only ones in the city risking the Guild’s wrath to supply un-Guilded accommodation at an inflated price. No one seemed to know anything about the current occupants, except that there had been lots of visitors observed in the evenings.
Hadrea listened well enough, but I had the sense she was distracted. Her eyes strayed often to the window and several times she asked me to repeat something. Kalina, too, looked odd, staring at Hadrea during those moments as if deep in unsettling thought.
“I suppose it would be safer,” Hadrea said, when we had finished explaining Tain’s request that we stay out of sight. She winked. “Anyway, it is tiring being worried about you all the time.”
“Well, I know you like to keep busy,” I retorted, and the answering sparkle in her eye reminded me, momentarily, of happier times. “Speaking of being worried about you,” I said, annoyed my voice sounded falsely casual, too bright. “Something else came up at Council.”
The positive energy that had radiated from her on arrival faltered, faded. “Yes, my mother informed me,” she said neutrally.
“I said you were helping me, and they accepted that.”
“Yes.” Hadrea shifted, straightening her posture and creating a gap between us. “Thank you. I do not need more of those puffed-up songbirds poking their beaks into my business.”
There was a long pause. Hadrea had crossed her legs and was studying her hands as intently and with as much curiosity as if they’d
just sprouted tentacles. Kalina pushed back away from the table fractionally. We both knew Hadrea had a temper and this particular subject was a sensitive one. “They’re going to try to keep poking,” I said. “It’s not in their interests to let it go. I just wish I knew whether this was the Ashes or other Credolen inventing the problem or whether someone else started the rumor to increase division. If the city thinks there’s a bunch of rogue Darfri running around performing magic outside An-Ostada’s control, it’ll do a lot of damage. We could end up right back where we started, even if for different reasons.”
I swallowed, eyeing her warily. I hated prodding her on sensitive subjects, especially when she was already on edge. But on top of what was happening in Council, we couldn’t risk ignoring it, either. “Also, I saw something—at least, I thought I saw something—at the party.” Kalina looked up, brow furrowed in a confused frown, and I realized, despite my best intentions to tell her everything, I had left this out of my story. “There was a … woman at the party. Maybe a Darfri woman.” I described the scene as best I could from my fragmented memory. The chants, the drum, the symbols, even, though with some hesitation, the sensation I’d briefly felt, the draining current of energy being drawn using fresken.
Hadrea bristled. “A sham. They are using our culture as a show for rich, spoiled city folk who do not understand it,” she said, her tone low and furious. She had dropped my hand.
“I did feel something,” I said, reluctant in the face of her rising temper. “It felt like how I remembered the fresken at the lake.”
Kalina sucked in her breath, looking alarmed, but Hadrea waved a dismissive hand. “You were on Void, and the fortunes know what else, Jovan. You can hardly trust your feelings. No, no Darfri would use their connection to the spirits for the entertainment of drunken fools. It was just a show, a parody for the rich.” She scowled. “I should have expected this. If they are not allowed to attack us directly they will just seize the parts of us they want and use them for their own. You people only know how to take—”