Jeweled Fire

by Sharon Shinn

  “But he didn’t tell you his name.”

  “He told me a name, but I don’t think it’s his.”

  “How did he know to find me here?”

  “He said that a ship captain told him about this place.”

  “Huh.” That made Leah a little less suspicious. She had, in fact, given this address to Captain Ada Simms, so her secretive visitor might simply be a shady character here to offer a smuggling deal. Which made her wonder . . . “Your visitor just arrived from Welce? He made it through the blockade?”

  “Apparently so. He hasn’t said much about the trip except that it was a real adventure.”

  Leah gulped down the last of her water. “Well, then. I guess I’d better go see what he wants.”

  Just then the front door opened and a family of five came in, chattering in Welchin. “Can you just take yourself upstairs? He’s in the last room at the end of the hallway. I’ll see you later!”

  Leah nodded and made her way to the back of the shop and into the kitchen—which smelled like sugar and bread and home—and from there to the narrow stairwell. She still felt premonition skittering along her backbone, so she held the banister with one hand and her favorite dagger with her other. This man might have been sent by Captain Simms, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a scoundrel.

  Only four doors opened up off the short hallway, which was dimly lit by small windows at either end of the corridor. Leah was tempted to stand outside the last door and shout at the occupant to come out—as she had with Cheelin Barlio—but she figured the shop owner wouldn’t appreciate the ruckus. So she knocked instead and listened to the thump and rustle on the other side of the door. Footsteps approached.

  She expected a suspicious interrogation from the mysterious boarder, but instead he flung the door open and spread his arms in a warm greeting. He was already smiling. “Leah!” he roared. “It is you! Of all the places for you to go to ground!”

  She just stared at him. He was a stocky man in his middle sixties, with a ruddy complexion, a ready laugh, and curly red hair about half surrendered to gray. Oh, but she knew so much more about him than the facts of his appearance. As long as he was in the room, someone was bound to be talking—usually him—and almost everyone was likely to be entertained. He was smart, warmhearted, scheming, unreliable, lovable, infuriating, and kind. He was the sweela prime, and there was no one she would have been more surprised to see in Malinqua.

  “Nelson Ardelay,” she said blankly. “What are you doing here?”

  He took her arm and pulled her through the door. “Come in, come in. Are you hungry? I was just about to eat.”

  “I think I’m too stunned to choke down a morsel.”

  He grinned and shepherded her over to a small table, where he had, indeed, laid out fruit compote, fresh-baked bread, and other appetizing items. “Well, then you can just sit and watch me chew,” he said as they sat down.

  “I’m serious. What are you doing here?”

  Nelson tore into a piece of bread. He was the kind of man who could talk with his mouth full and yet somehow not be annoying; he had so much to say that he couldn’t wait to get the words out. “We have been hearing some very disturbing rumors out of Malinqua. Darien wanted to send a navy straightaway to bring Corene home—but there was some question about how easily a navy might force its way in. So he thought to send an ambassador first, someone who could analyze the situation and maybe talk some sense into the empress.”

  “So he picked you,” Leah said dryly.

  Nelson grinned. “Well, I can talk,” he said modestly.

  “You certainly can. But if you’re here to negotiate, why are you hiding like a fugitive?”

  “I thought I’d try to see how the land lies before making a grand entrance at the palace. See how much danger Corene is in.”

  “Some, I think,” Leah admitted. “But I don’t think she’s greatly afraid.”

  “No. Well, she’s not a fearful girl in general.”

  “So you really have a navy at your back?”

  He gestured vaguely toward the ocean. “Fifty ships. Out to sea far enough to not seem threatening—though I assume Filomara has caught wind of them by now.”

  “I haven’t seen any warships in the harbor. How’d you get through the blockade?”

  He grinned. “I came in with a merchant trader who knew a less—shall we say—obvious route. She’s the one who told me how to find you, in fact.”

  “So I figured. Though how Captain Simms got in touch with you to begin with—”

  “Oh, it’s all very convoluted,” Nelson agreed. “But apparently you talked to her some ninedays ago, and claimed you knew Kayle Dochenza. And she asked Kayle, and Kayle shared the news with me, and then he told Darien and—” He shrugged. “Once Darien knows something, all the pieces fall in place.”

  She sighed. “And Darien knows everything.”

  Nelson regarded her steadily. “He knew where you were, at any rate, which is something I would have liked to know for a long time.”

  “Really?” she said tiredly. “You even noticed I was gone?”

  “Of course I noticed! And inquired discreetly, though the trail went cold very quickly once it meandered through Darien Serlast’s office.” For a moment Nelson’s cheerful face looked grim. “There are many things I admire about our regent, but I do not believe he always knows best in every single situation. I am still angry with him for not telling me where you were—or rather, where he had sent you.”

  “I asked him not to tell anyone. I didn’t want to be followed. And argued with. And reminded.”

  “Well, you’ve been gone five years now. I would think some of those memories would be a little less painful by now.”

  Leah gave a ghost of a laugh. “And you would mostly be wrong.”

  Showing admirable and uncharacteristic self-restraint, Nelson didn’t reply. He simply took another bite of bread and watched her, waiting for her to ask the question she had wanted to ask somebody, anybody, for the past five years.

  “So how is she? How’s my daughter?” she finally said.

  Nelson would know, of course. He was the girl’s grandfather.

  EIGHTEEN

  When the day came for them to set out on their expedition, Alette was the calmest one of all. Liramelli was trying to maintain her usual stoic demeanor, but she kept dropping things and bumping into walls, betraying her deep nervousness. Melissande fluttered even more than usual, making minute adjustments to her own toilette then hovering around the rest of them to straighten a shawl or smooth down a wayward curl. Corene snapped at everyone: Do you have to be so restless? Don’t break anything else! Not even Melissande reproached her for her tone.

  But Alette merely sat quietly in the middle of Melissande’s room and waited for the minutes to tick by. She was dressed in traditional Dhonshon clothing—a vivid tunic in what Corene considered the sweela colors of red and yellow and orange, overlaid with the yellow shawl Alette wore every day. But she had complemented this ensemble with sturdy, rather ugly shoes that looked suitable for walking across a continent.

  “What did you tell Jiramondi when he asked if he could come with us?” Liramelli asked. She’d posed the same question at least twice already.

  “I said today is a Welchin holiday on which only women were allowed into the temples,” Corene replied. “Which is why Steff couldn’t come, either. And then he asked if Foley was coming and I said yes, but we wouldn’t let him inside the temple. Which we won’t,” she added.

  “But Jiramondi is very smart, you know,” Melissande said, worried. “He might be in the library even now! Looking up Welchin customs! He will realize you were lying to him.”

  “Maybe, but by then it will be too late.” Corene glanced once more at the clock, which finally, miraculously, showed the correct time. She had approached Lorian last night to ask him t
o arrange for transportation. The other women and I would like to go to the Little Islands in the morning. Could you have a carriage ready? She didn’t say a carriage and a dozen guards because Lorian would take care of the guards all on his own.

  “Finally. Let’s go.”

  They headed out the door, the rest of them wrapping themselves in their own colorful shawls as they went. It was partly symbolic—wearing Dhonshon clothing as they plotted a Dhonshon escape—and partly practical. Foley was the one who had alerted Corene to this detail.

  “When you’re following someone, you can’t always see his face,” he had explained. “So you look for physical markers that you can spot at a distance. Height. Coloring. An unusual piece of clothing. If you wear certain colors, you make life a lot easier for the guards who are trying to keep you in view.”

  Good to know. They would offer Filomara’s official soldiers and skulking assassins a veritable rainbow of targets. They wanted the guards’ job to be very easy indeed.

  No one impeded them as they wended through the corridors and out the front door of the palace, chatting as casually as they could. Corene could tell that her own laugh was high and strained, while Liramelli couldn’t bring herself to laugh at all. But soon enough the four of them were seated in the open carriage and it was headed out at a brisk pace. Foley was on horseback beside them, and a dozen guards ranged before and behind. Corene figured they’d pick up any murder-minded escorts once they were a few blocks from the courtyard, but she wasn’t going to bother to look for them.

  “What a very nice day we have for our outing,” Melissande observed nervously. “Sunny and not at all cold! We could walk for hours if we had to.”

  Corene glared at her. “Fortunately, we won’t have to.”

  “No! Of course not! Such a lovely carriage the empress has provided.”

  “I believe the weather is supposed to get much chillier tomorrow,” Liramelli said in her serious way. “Even stormy. Clouds rolling in tonight.”

  “Clouds! Yes. One will hardly be able to see the moon tonight if there are clouds,” Melissande rattled on. When Corene gave her another minatory look, Melissande added, “Oh, but I prefer moonlight, of course. It makes everything so pretty.”

  “Why don’t we just enjoy the sunlight and not talk so much?” Corene suggested.

  Liramelli sat a little straighter. “Perhaps I should act like Garameno for this trip, and point out interesting sights,” she said. “You see that tall building—the gray one with the tile roof? That’s the archives for the history of the city. One of Garameno’s favorite places.”

  “One of the reasons Garameno is so very dull,” Melissande murmured.

  Liramelli’s travelogue took them through the rest of the journey, which seemed to last for hours but was really less than one. Despite her impatience, Corene felt a surge of panic when the carriage crossed into the Little Islands and pulled up in front of the Welchin temple. It was time! Was she ready?

  “Here we are!” she announced, her voice too cheery. “Let’s go in and pull blessings.”

  Foley helped them out of the carriage while the royal soldiers redistributed themselves in a loose ring around the temple. At least five of them were close enough to overhear when Melissande exclaimed, “There is a note on the door!” before she looked around guiltily, wondering what she might have betrayed.

  “Oh, yes—it’s just reminding everyone that today is the women’s holiday, and no men are allowed inside,” Corene answered in a loud voice. In fact, she knew before she read it what the note would say in Leah’s clear, steady handwriting: The temple will be closed for a few hours this morning to complete some minor repairs. Please visit us this afternoon. She and Corene had devised this simple ruse as the best way to make sure no strangers were in the temple when the royal party arrived. The note was in Welchin, of course, which meant that the guards couldn’t read it, which meant that Corene could translate it however she wanted for their benefit.

  Alette spoke up for almost the first time since they’d climbed in the carriage. “But we may enter,” she said, and pushed through the door.

  Inside, the light was soft and inviting, and the place was empty except for two people—Leah and a young woman who was a complete stranger. She had Dhonshon coloring and was about Alette’s age, but otherwise the women didn’t look much alike. Her hair was shorter and curlier, her eyes were a pale green, and the shape of her face was rounder. And she didn’t wear Alette’s perpetual look of haunted sadness, but instead greeted them with an expression of delight and astonishment.

  “This is Teyta. A friend of mine,” Leah said. “I don’t actually know everyone else’s name, but this is Corene and this is—”

  “Best not to say it out loud,” Corene interposed.

  “No need. Princess,” Teyta whispered, and made a complicated gesture that was clearly meant to denote great respect.

  Alette shook her head and whipped off her yellow shawl. “Not today,” she answered.

  Leah stepped between them. “Quickly,” she said. “I don’t know that we have much time. Even though the sign’s been up since dawn, people have been coming to the door and knocking all morning. I never realized how many people in this city wanted blessings.”

  “Perhaps someone should guard the door, just in case,” Corene said. Melissande and Liramelli hurried over to lean their backs against it, their feet planted as if to resist the incursions of a whole army.

  Corene paused to drop coins in the tithing box—a couple of quint-golds, far more than she’d usually donate, but today was a special occasion. They needed the blessings of all the elements.

  Teyta and Alette didn’t waste any time. They both stripped down to nearly transparent underdresses and then swapped clothes, keeping only their own shoes. Corene had to admit that Alette looked much less like herself when she was wearing Teyta’s outfit instead of her own. It was still brighter than the typical Malinquese ensemble, but a more sober blue shot through with streaks of green and yellow. Teyta had thoughtfully brought a thin, woven scarf in the same muted blue, and Alette draped this casually around her head and shoulders.

  Teyta, meanwhile, looked every inch Dhonshon royalty in Alette’s flame-colored dress and sun-yellow scarf. The two women were about the same height and of similar build, though Teyta’s figure was more lush than Alette’s. Because she hasn’t been on a steady diet of misery, Corene thought.

  When they were both fully dressed, Corene came over to study them. “Good,” she said. “I can’t believe what a difference the clothing makes.”

  Leah’s gaze flicked between the two women. “The biggest difference is their eyes,” she decided. “The princess’s are so blue.”

  “No one will notice that from a distance,” Alette said.

  “No, but when we arrive at the palace, someone might,” Corene said. “Anyone we encounter in the hallways—”

  “I’ll just pretend to be sick,” Teyta said, closing her eyes and swooning in Corene’s direction. “You’ll have to help me up the stairs.”

  “I’d have Foley carry you up, but then people would really start worrying. The empress would even send this annoying woman who claims to be a nurse. She’d know you aren’t Alette.”

  Leah turned to glance at Corene. “She won’t be able to fool anyone. She can’t join you at dinner, for instance—”

  Corene shrugged. “Alette skips meals half the time anyway. No one will be surprised when she isn’t there.”

  “All this time you thought I was being unsociable when I was merely laying the groundwork for my escape,” Alette said in her usual serious voice. It was a moment before Corene realized she was joking.

  She laughed. “Very clever of you!”

  There were voices outside and a tentative knocking at the door. Liramelli put her finger to her lips and she and Melissande leaned more purposefully against the wood.
After a moment, they heard the sound of voices retreating.

  “We can’t wait much longer,” Leah said, looking a little worried. “Are we done? Can we go?”

  Corene glanced around. No stray bits of clothing on the floor, no dropped jewelry that would betray who had so briefly taken shelter there. “I think so.”

  “Five minutes more,” Alette said. “I would welcome a blessing from your temple to see me on my way.”

  Corene could see that the thought of lingering even a minute longer made Leah want to scream, but who could decline the opportunity for a blessing? “Of course,” Leah said courteously.

  Alette stepped closer to the barrel and plunged her hand in. “First, I will pull coins for each of you—my benefactors. My friends.”

  Checking to make sure the door was securely locked, Melissande and Liramelli hurried over. Teyta looked on with bewilderment and curiosity. “I’ll explain later,” Corene told her.

  It only took a few moments for the coins to be drawn and distributed, though Corene and Leah had to translate for everyone. Corene tried not to sigh when courage was bestowed upon her, and Leah looked sardonic when her blessing turned out to be hope. No surprise that Melissande received charm and Liramelli steadfastness. It was clear that Alette was most pleased by the blessing she drew for Teyta—the elay glyph of kindness.

  “I think you must be a very kind person,” she said, “to do such a remarkable thing for me.”

  “She is,” Leah said. “Now, we must go.”

  “No, no—we must all draw blessings for Alette before we send her on her way!” Melissande exclaimed. She was already stirring the barrel, already had a coin in her hand, offering it to Corene.

  “Travel,” Corene said with a smile. “That seems about right.”

  In quick succession, they also showered Alette with hope, love, luck, and triumph. “Most propitious!” Corene exclaimed in a low voice.

  “Indeed, I don’t see how they could be better,” Liramelli agreed. “Surely this means you will be successful on your journey.”