by Unknown
“The goddess’s minion would have come whether I did or not,” he said. “I thought we had a few hours. Probably a whole day. I was wrong. I am so terribly sorry for that.”
Azure absorbed his words. She decided he was being truthful.
“What goddess?” Coil demanded.
“One that will not stay dead,” Burnish answered.
~o0o~
Azure would always remember the next hour of her life, but even while it was passing it felt as though she were a sleepwalker having an unusually vivid dream. Nothing seemed real without her mother’s presence.
Burnish said they had to get out of the village. The vegetable cart became the means. Just as Root would have done, they went to the riverside quay. Soon the night barge made its regular stop. The crew, a pair of brothers, happily accepted the fare from Burnish and helped tie down the cart in the center of the platform near the main stack of cargo. Minutes later they were floating away with the current. The barge was not due to stop again until dawn when it arrived at Bulltown. That was where Root would have disembarked and taken his load to the market plaza.
Coil finished giving the mule some carrots and came to sit with her and Burnish at the center of the barge. They were out of the hearing of the crew. The elder brother had retreated to the stern as rudder man and the younger to the prow to watch for submerged logs and other navigational obstacles.
“You’re small for your age, but strong.” Burnish ruffled Coil’s hair. “That’s how it was with me.”
Coil never let Mama touch his head like that anymore. It really was odd how familiar Burnish seemed. The way he crinkled his eyes. The way he spread his fingers so widely when he reached for something.
“You keep looking at the banks,” Coil said.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“I’m looking for the spider,” he confessed.
“Why?” Coil began studying the hollows where the moonlight didn’t penetrate. “Does it know we’re riding the barge?”
“If not, it soon will. Its mistress can sense what direction we’re in. Once the spider consults with her, it will know where to hunt for us.”
“Then why are we here?” Azure demanded.
“It’s an excellent place to be for now. The goddess’s sorcery made that spider big and strong and plated it with armor. Couldn’t do that without making it heavy. It can’t swim, and if it tried walking across the river bottom to reach the barge, it would get stuck in the mud. We’re safe until we dock at Bulltown.”
“What then?”
“Don’t worry about that yet.”
“Which goddess is it the spider serves?” Coil asked.
“Schrae.”
“The one killed by her sister?”
“Yes. But somehow her consciousness was preserved in a vessel of wire and glass. Two centuries ago something or someone awakened her.”
“Why did the goddess make the spider come here?” asked Azure.
“To free herself. She is still imprisoned in the vessel. To be fully free, and to be able to use all her powers, she has to create a real body for herself. The trick is, it has to be just like her old body, so she’s been capturing and studying her descendants to see how they’re made.”
“Are we Schrae’s descendants?” asked Coil.
“Yes.” Burnish tapped himself on the chest. “I carry the blood. And because you are my son, you have it, too. And so do you, Azure. Your father was also a descendant. Sprawl was some sort of distant kinsman of mine.”
“When she studies her descendants, does she kill them?”
“Yes. Apparently that’s an unavoidable part of the process.”
Azure began shaking. She had never liked the idea she might die someday, but to be tossed down on a slab and taken apart? By her own foremother?
“Why didn’t Mama tell us?”
“It wasn’t yet time. We hoped it might never be necessary.”
“Why?” Azure choked. “Did you think Schrae would give up?!”
“No. We thought she’d succeed.” Burnish’s voice was gentle. “If in the past few years Schrae had found enough descendants for her needs, if she had restored herself, then she would have no more need to chase the descendants who were still at liberty.”
“But then she’d be back,” Coil pointed out. “That would be terrible.”
“Yes. Her restoration would probably be the worst thing to happen to the world since the Long Snow. Now that the other gods have returned to the sky, who could stop her? But what would that be to us? Just a storm out at sea. The kings and masters of the great nations would be scrambling to assemble their armies to save their reigns, but you two would probably be sleeping in your beds right now, dreaming good dreams. Sprawl and I might be living in the village and learning to be proper fathers.”
“But it didn’t happen that way,” Coil said.
“No. It did not. The goddess is still hunting. And we are her prey.”
Azure found herself wishing she hadn’t even been born. And that made her wonder. “Why did you sire us? Knowing what you knew?”
He sighed. “I had hoped your mother would explain, along with the rest of it. I don’t really want to get into it right now.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
“We have time,” she said.
She was afraid the real answer was, So Schrae could get you and not us.
When he didn’t respond, she gave up. She leaned back against a pickle barrel. Coil nestled in beside her. Burnish found a spare tarp and covered all three of them. When the younger brother wandered past to give the cargo a quick check, he ignored them as if they had gone to sleep.
An hour later, though, Azure and Coil were still wide awake when Burnish gestured at the left bank.
“Keep your heads down. Look carefully.”
Along this portion of the river, the bluff on the left bank dropped sharply toward the water, almost as steep as a cliff. Azure spotted something scurrying along the heights, darting from a gully to a cluster of olive trees, and then to the shadow of a rock outcropping, avoiding the moonlit open stretches. It made no noise loud enough to be heard over the soughing of the nightwind, but the presence of something that huge and shambling could be felt.
Azure began shaking again. She slipped into the crook of Burnish’s arm and torso. No matter that he didn’t give good answers to questions, she needed an adult to hold her.
“Don’t worry, child.”
“How can you say that?”
“You know how to swim, don’t you?”
“Of course.” The question was stupid. She had, after all, grown up in a hot and dusty village next to a large river. She could hardly recall a summer day of her whole life when she had not taken a dip.
“Good. Keep watching the spider. I believe it will try to get ahead of us. We’ll slip into the water. It will keep tracking the barge until it docks at Bulltown. It won’t realize we’re not aboard anymore.”
The spider behaved as Burnish predicted. It scurried ahead of the barge until even Azure, who had the sharpest eyes, could not detect it.
The moon set. The river straightened until the elder brother was able to tie down the rudder and venture to the prow, where he and his brother began sharing a pipeful of ropebud. Burnish helped the children slip out from their places, leaving the tarp in place in such a way that it appeared to still be covering them. They slipped silently into the water and swam underwater until the brush on the right bank hung over their heads. Surfacing, they caught hold of branches and held themselves in place against the current until the barge drifted completely out of sight.
They waited a good long while in the shadow of the brush, but none of them saw any sign that the spider had backtracked. They swam across to the other side. The bluff was not as steep here. They clambered up the bank.
The wagon road paralleled the river here atop the bluff, but they did not use it. They proceeded into open country, Burnish obscuri
ng the footprints they had made on the road while crossing it.
“Where will we go?” Azure asked.
“For now, back to your village. I left something there. It’s not that far. The river wound us around. We’ll take the straight way back.”
“Is it safe to go there?”
“It should be. Schrae can’t send the minion after us until it ambushes the barge at the dock, discovers we’re not aboard, and comes back to get new instructions.”
“What will happen to the bargemen?” Coil asked.
“They will take one look at that creature and jump off,” Burnish said with conviction. “The minion will take no further interest in them.”
~o0o~
They reached the village while it was still full dark. They moved along the outskirts, making no noises that might awaken dogs.
The light was still lit above the lintel of the tavern. Usually Mama extinguished it when the last patron left. The front door was slightly ajar, having mostly closed after the spider had gone through. Apparently no one had noticed these odd signs and checked inside. The spider’s assault had happened just late enough in the evening that few would have ventured outdoors since. No one would be missing Chisel yet. His wife had died long ago and he had no offspring—one reason he was thinking of taking on Coil as his apprentice. Root lived up Ramble Creek near his vegetable fields. His family had no reason to expect him back from Bulltown until the end of the coming day.
The only sign of activity was the light from the windows and smoke from the chimneys of Vetch’s bakery. Vetch himself would be inside kneading dough.
“We shouldn’t let anyone know we’re here,” Burnish said, guessing Azure’s thought.
“The whole village would fight for us if we asked.”
“You saw what happened to the men in the tavern. Do you want any more people you know to die like that?”
She shuddered. “No.”
Burnish led them around behind the inn to the base of the path that led up to the guest huts on the hill. The structures were all empty at the moment, though due to be filled in just one week when the leapfish began their seasonal run up the river.
“We’ll wait indoors until dawn,” Burnish said.
“The huts are locked. The keys are inside the inn,” Azure said. “Should we get them?”
“No, let’s not chance that. We may not need a key.” He led them up to the very last pair of huts, the highest on the hill, tucked back away from the others, each with their own privies. Azure assumed he was going to break in, and braced for the noise that would make. But Burnish just went to the front door of the one on the left, cupped his fingers at its base, and lifted.
The door shifted upward. The lock released.
“Nine years and she never fixed that,” he muttered. He opened the door and waved the children in.
The interior exuded a welcoming aroma of clean linens and sachets of herbs. Mama always kept the huts ready for the next guests. Azure had helped her freshen this one just five days back. Stepping inside was almost like coming home.
Coil wasn’t so used to where things were. He bumped into the end of the bed and then Azure bumped into him.
“No lamps,” Burnish warned.
“But I can’t see anything,” Coil complained.
“We don’t need to see much. This is just a place to wait. Up on the bed with you. Keep your shoes on, though.” The chair creaked as he settled into it.
Azure and Coil stretched out on top of the bedcovers. It was a far better bed than her pallet in the inn. Any other time lying there like that would lull her. Under the circumstances, the stillness only filled her with more questions.
Apparently it was the same for Coil, because all at once he asked, “Have you always had to run like this?”
“Not always like this,” Burnish replied. “I had a happy childhood. I was seventeen before Schrae became aware I existed. And there have been other good times over these past thirteen years. I found Sprawl early in my roaming. We became like brothers. The road can be a fine place with the right comrade. Many men have spent their twenties roaming. Sometimes I think I might have chosen to live very much as I have in fact lived.”
“But aren’t you afraid all the time?” Coil asked.
“It’s not a life for children. It’s not what I wished for you.”
“It’s not what I wished for, either,” Coil said. “Not even when I wished I could meet you.”
Burnish was silent for so long Azure thought he was done, but then he added, “Sprawl and I both vowed never to sire offspring. We didn’t want Schrae chasing them like she was chasing us.”
“But we got born,” Azure said.
“What happened?” Coil asked.
“I didn’t want to speak of it, yet here we are in this hut. I suppose that’s a sign that I should tell you.”
“What about this hut?”
“This was where you were conceived, my boy. Azure was conceived on the same night in the hut next door.”
“That can’t be,” Azure insisted. “Mama never uses these huts herself.”
“I take it you know what these huts are used for.”
“Everybody around here knows what these huts are used for.” Mama made more money from the rental of these two huts than all the rest of the inn rooms combined.
“I don’t,” Coil blurted.
Azure wished it weren’t dark, so she could tell if he was joking. Maybe he really didn’t know. She talked about almost everything with Coil, but not about that. Not since she had figured out what that was.
“Shall I tell him?” Burnish asked.
“Yes,” she murmured. She certainly didn’t want to be the one to do it.
“You know how it is with livestock when the females come in season? How it is with cats and dogs? How at those times, they can’t be kept apart?”
“Yes,” Coil said. He sounded disgusted.
“It so happens that if a man and woman who already like one another have a cup of a certain tea, and if they then go to one of the bathhouses and breathe in the fumes after a certain elixir is added to the hot water, and if they then retire to one of these two huts, then the pair find themselves consumed by the same sort of craving for one another that lower mammals feel at breeding time.”
“Mama wouldn’t have done that,” Azure said, louder than she meant to. “That’s not how it happened!”
“I told you I didn’t want to speak of it.”
“What’s going on?” Coil asked.
“You hog puddle, don’t you see? He’s saying Mama tricked them!”
“Don’t call me a hog puddle.” Coil poked her in the ribs. “And that wasn’t what he said. Was it?”
Burnish was silent again.
“Oh, no,” Coil mumbled.
“She had decided she wanted a child,” Burnish said. “She didn’t want a husband. Just a child. What better way, she thought, than wait until a particularly fine specimen of a man appeared in her tavern, and then see to it that he joined her for a night in one of these huts? He would be on his way in the morning and would never know all that went on. She would have a child and be able to carry on her life without some man ordering her around.”
That was just the sort of thing Mama would do, Azure had to admit. It even sounded like her saying it.
“If it had been as she imagined, we might have remembered that night as the best of our lives,” Burnish continued. “We all liked Flora from the moment we met her. We being Sprawl, me, and my new sweetheart, Auburn. We had been in the village for a week, easing our road fatigue, certain we were far ahead of the goddess’s hunters. Every evening the three of us would drink with Flora and talk. And laugh.”
He reached over and clasped Azure’s knee. “I have forgiven your mother long since. I hope you can manage to do the same. She should have told us, but she didn’t see the harm. She knew Sprawl wanted to bed her. She only resorted to the tea and the elixir and the huts because she knew she was not quite in
the fertile part of her cycle. The magic was the cure for that. She did not imagine Sprawl would care, given that he was never to know he had fathered a baby. She did not imagine Auburn and I would care, because she could see that Auburn and I were deeply in love, and we had even said we wanted children. Unfortunately we had not mentioned that we dared not fulfill that desire.
“You must not blame Sprawl for his part in making you, Azure. You, Coil, must not blame Auburn. Neither one realized they were under a spell, and both assumed it was safe to couple that night without those consequences. Let their ghosts rest in peace. Me, you can blame.”
“Why you and not them?” Azure asked.
“Because I didn’t drink the tea. I pretended to, out of politeness, but Flora had put honey in it to mask the unusual flavor. Honey makes my skin break out and sometimes even makes it hard for me to breathe. So I was not under a spell that night in the hut. I realized something was not normal. I had my wits. I just didn’t use them.
“I wanted her, you see. Auburn was the woman I had never imagined I would be lucky enough to know. When she joined me in the bed in the state she was in, I chose not to worry. I took the gamble. We’d had to be so careful all those months. For one night, to just let go? It was irresistible.”
“What happened then?” Coil asked.
“Sprawl and Auburn and I left the next day. A few fortnights later, Auburn began throwing up in the morning, and couldn’t abide certain foods she had loved in the past. We realized what had happened. We knew that soon there would be two more descendants Schrae would want. From that point on, your safety was our foremost goal. Schrae can call upon certain magicks to track prey she has already identified. She can’t use those methods if she doesn’t know who to look for. We hoped to keep her from ever learning you existed.
“We did not want to appear to have any particular interest in this village. So we roamed far and wide until Auburn grew heavy with child. We came back here for the births. Flora had to be warned. You were born first, Azure. Three days later Auburn went into labor and...”
“And she died,” Coil said. He had been told many times about his mother and why she could not raise him. Though in all the years Azure had overheard those same stories, she had always thought her mother and Auburn had known each other much longer. Her mother had let her think that, she supposed.