Hearts of Tabat

by Cat Rambo

  She nodded, silent and white as a piece of marble. Her fingers trembled in his as they approached the door. He felt protective. Was this what being a parent was like? He had no doubts of Letha, but had Corrado ever felt this wave of worry and warmth?

  By now the fourth evening bell had rung and darkness fallen. The aetheric lights around the Arena had been shattered and at the top of some of the tall poles, the ruined mechanisms sent out showers of sparks that cast an erratic, dancing light across the scene. Some forty feet away, a chal house, Berto’s, was burning, the tables and chairs in front of it thrown on their sides, smashed cups on the ground like white leaves, reflecting the ruddy light of the flames, which battled with the erratic glow from the sparks, making everything look half-real.

  A woman was on fire, a pillar of flame consuming her. He covered Obedience’s eyes and pulled her across the Plaza in the opposite direction of the flames.

  “This isn’t the right way!” she protested.

  The last thing he wanted to deal with in this chaos was a child screaming that a Mage was kidnapping her. It’d be rumors of Sparkfinger Jack all over again. “We’re going to go up along Spume Way. There are only houses along there, so there won’t be crowds.”

  Mechanicals were pouring into the Arena area, Peacekeepers and Rousers by the look of things. But the Duke’s forces were limited. They couldn’t deal with the chaos if it spread across the city.

  And it had. From Spume Way, they could see that fires were burning, clustered around the Arena and then down towards Merchant town and the docks. Here on Spume, householders had retreated into their homes till the hubbub died down, and they only met a few people along the way, although they saw a Figgis cart that had been overturned and looted, up-faced wheels still turning when touched by the wind.

  Further down, things got more chaotic. A crowd seemed jammed around every chal house and tavern, and there was a great hubbub as though gossip were spreading. Sebastiano heard shock and indignation in their voices.

  “What’s happened?” He caught at the sleeve of a passing woman. His voice was peremptory and she yanked herself free, but addressed him.

  “Crowd of folks killed near the Arena by one of the Duke’s Peacekeepers run amuck.”

  He resolved to get Obedience home off the streets as soon as possible. Her house was small and mean, one of the cramped little dwellings near the Slumpers.

  He knocked and recognized the man who answered the door. The fellow who’d pushed him to take the boy to the Moon Temples. Some Moon worshipper name? Eloquence, that was it.

  Eloquence grabbed Obedience. “Where have ye been?” he demanded, his accent thick with rage.

  Before Obedience could reply, Sebastiano spoke. “She was lost in the Arena.”

  “We returned hours ago, looking for her! Hours!” Eloquence rounded on Obedience. “What were ye doing? What were ye thinking?”

  “We stayed in my family’s box and watched the Games,” Sebastiano said. “I thought we would find you afterwards. I could hardly anticipate that there would be a riot.” He cursed himself. He should have looked for the child’s family sooner. But he’d been enjoying Obedience’s conversation. He hadn’t thought. And who could have predicted that this unpleasant man would turn out to be connected to such a charming girl?

  “She was hungry. I fed her,” he said defensively. Certainly this was all unnecessary overreaction. “No need for fear.”

  “No need for fear,” Eloquence echoed. “I’d tell that to her mother, who went out looking for her, but she can no longer hear.”

  His words were incomprehensible to Sebastiano, but seemed to signify to Obedience. “What’s happened to Mamma?”

  Ignoring Sebastiano, Eloquence squatted in front of the girl to bring their faces to the same level. He rested back on his heels, putting his hands on her shoulders. “She went out looking for you,” he repeated.

  “Where is she?”

  He released her shoulders and rose, his eyes moving to fix on Sebastiano’s face, addressing him instead of the girl. “The Duke’s forces. Twenty dead, and three times that injured, they say.”

  “She was injured?” Sebastiano said.

  “She was killed. Searching for the child you were plying with sweetmeats.” His eyes raked Sebastiano. “For no good purpose, I’m sure.”

  “Now see here,” Sebastiano began, then broke off and took a breath. Grief and shock speaking, he thought. No one could predict what might happen in a riot. And I didn’t create the riot. The man might as well blame Bella Kanto for this tragedy.

  Obedience stood dead still. “Mamma—” she said, “—is dead?”

  “Get inside and we will speak in a moment,” Eloquence said. She disappeared through the doorway without a backward look for Sebastiano.

  Eloquence said, “I am not a man of temper, Merchant Mage. But I think you should go before I become one.”

  “I am sorry for your loss,” Sebastiano said. Should he offer them money, he wondered. Did they expect it? But when he fumbled for his purse, Eloquence snarled and pushed him off the doorstep, sending him sprawling into the dirty street snow.

  The door slammed. Sebastiano lay there, fighting for breath. Was he responsible for any of this? No, he told himself, certainly not.

  But he resolved to forego conversations with children in the future.

  CHAPTER 19

  This is how Adelina found out: she was going along the street thinking about the problem of Scholar Reinart’s book and how it might be either published without loss or the discussion killed once and for all. He says he does not want to publish for the sake of vanity, but that is it. And isn’t that why we all chase it?

  She wasn’t really paying attention to the people around her, but then she heard Bella’s name on the lips of the news crier, and saw people crowding around him.

  Well of course, she has won again. For a moment she wasn’t sure whether she’d rolled her eyes visibly or inside her head. No one seemed to notice, though.

  She had foregone the Arena match. A waste of money that could be spent doing public good. Still, why the push and shove over this news? The crowd was all elbows and backs, but she managed to squeeze close enough to hear, “Unexpected Twist: Kanto Kills Student!” and then, in response to the rush of questions, “You’ll have to spend your skiff to get the rest of the news, but believe me, it’s worth it!”

  Her fingers trembled as she fumbled through her purse for the copper coin. This is bad, this is very bad. Bella killing her own student—that had to be the result of some terrible accident, and how could Bella have let it happen? She is too skilled not to be able to control her blade—no, something must have happened, some force intervened.

  The newsprint was so fresh that it smudged her fingers as she opened up the page to read.

  It wasn’t until she saw the speculations that Bella and the student had been lovers that she was truly shocked. Not a social convention to be flouted; loving and teaching do not think together, as the Trade Gods say. But they quoted Myrila, of all people, confirming it, and if she said a thing of Bella, it would most probably be true.

  But she would go and ask the source. Surely she is unhappy and needs comforting.

  She hurried along. It would give her an excuse to skip the afternoon gathering with the Manycloaks as well. Bella and Emiliana had never sat well with each other, but her mother would be forced to agree that this disaster merited time spent with Bella.

  But she found her plans thwarted when she arrived at the boarding house on Greenslope Way.

  It was bad enough that Scholar Reinart shared this space and there was therefore always the chance of running into him, but Adelina had never liked Bella’s landlady. The woman was far too conscious of Bella’s stature and all too aware of the glory (and profit) that it brought to her establishment. Take the bard, for example. Would he have come to live there if it hadn’t been for Bella? No, certainly not. And Captain Saltsail. There was another one who had chosen the house
because of the tenants, since he had that mad passion for Bella for so long, even though she’d never followed through on it.

  Adelina wished now, though, that she hadn’t been quite so obvious about her dislike. It might have helped her negotiate with Abernia, who stood, arms crossed, barring the doorway.

  “Miss Bella doesn’t want to be seeing anybody, that’s what she said.”

  “But I’m her friend! You know that, I’ve visited here dozens of times.” Somehow being denied access to Bella made the situation seem even more dire, as if her friend were bleeding, and in need of bandaging, with Adelina so close but unable to supply the need.

  “I can take a message, I told you that. Twice.” Abernia unfolded and refolded her arms, standing with her feet planted solid as a fir tree.

  “Very well, I’ll leave a note. Can you bring me some paper?”

  “No. I don’t have any.”

  Adelina stared at Abernia, unwilling to believe the woman was lying directly to her face. “Not a scrap?”

  Abernia didn’t even bother to reply to that, only shook her head and kept staring Adelina in the face. Behind her in the hallway, Adelina could see a boy hovering, trying to catch her attention. The boy Bella had hired off the street, the one she said was her errand runner. Bella had taken in plenty of strays over the years, but never Human ones, and Adelina had found herself wondering if it marked some change in her friend or was simply—probably—random happenstance?

  What would Bella have done, under similar conditions? She toyed with the idea of physically pushing Abernia, a good solid shove so she could get past her and go up the wide wooden staircase with its jonquil-carved banister to Bella’s quarters on the uppermost floor. But Abernia had both inches and pounds on Adelina, and something about the way she stood, and the way her lip twisted, that suggested she would be fine using them.

  “Very well,” Adelina said, exhaling. “I will go back to my offices and write a note.” She pointed past Abernia. “Send the boy with me and he’ll bring it back to her.”

  “Teo?” Abernia, surprised, spun to look at the boy, who looked as though he could have kept butter in his mouth, he was that cool. He stepped up with a nod. He wore a jacket with odd, floral buttons. Those were a Coinblossom device, and if they were on the buttons, she would bet that it had been Marta’s garment. How like Bella. She probably hadn’t thought twice about giving her lover’s cast-off to her servant. That was the thing that was both infuriating and endearing, all at once, about Bella. It wasn’t that she was mean—far from it—or that she ever tried to hurt people. It was just that the way she lived, the way she was, sometimes people got hurt.

  Would Teo be one of them? He fell in behind her and they started off down the street with Abernia scowling after them.

  “So what is really happening?” Adelina demanded after half a block.

  “Ma’am?” His voice faltered and cracked. He was very young. Bella had said he was from the country, that he’d fled some sort of bad situation. She’d been amused by the fact that he’d read most of the penny-wides often enough that he could quote them. Adelina wondered whether he had ever thought he would become associated with Bella.

  At any other time, she would have talked with him about them, would have asked his opinion of various ones and seen which was his favorite (everyone had one, and it was Adelina’s pet theory that which one you liked the best said a great deal about your character and personality). But she had something entirely different—or at least somewhat unrelated—in mind, and so she said, “Bella. Is she truly sending everyone away, or is that Abernia’s interpretation of her wishes?”

  “Well,” he said slowly, “I think it’s Bella’s wish, really, but she didn’t really spell it out to Abernia, at least while I was around. She came home from the Arena before I did—I had to fight with the crowds, and Abernia did too. I went up to see her and when I knocked on the door, she told me to go away, and have Abernia come up with a pot of chal. Since then I don’t know that she’s eaten all that much, but Abernia would know that better. But Bella just sits in her room.”

  “What does she do there?” Adelina wondered out loud. It was mostly to herself, but Teo answered, nonetheless.

  “She watches out the window,” he said. “The Fairies in the pine tree near there. She watches them. Feeds them sometimes. I think she lets them shelter inside when it’s very cold, but that’s something Abernia would scream at if she found out.” He scowled. “She doesn’t understand how dangerous they can be.”

  Adelina stared at him. “Watches the Fairies?” Not at all what she expected.

  He nodded. “She likes them,” he said.

  She had known that Bella liked creatures, but not that the liking had extended to something Adelina had always thought of as vermin.

  When Adelina had been very young, it had briefly been fashionable to have Fairy pets, a kind that had been brought from the Southern continent, and which were trailed about on small gilt leashes. The first time she’d seen one, fluttering after her friend Terinka, she’d cried and cried until Emiliana agreed to get one for her, a rare concession, although she’d gotten Adelina to promise any number of things about her chores and studies for the year to come.

  In reality, the Fairy had been much less enchanting than Adelina had hoped. Its breath stank from the lumps of meat it ate, and it was given to swooping at her, chittering, in a way that startled and alarmed.

  Bella had tried to persuade her that Fairies were not all bad, that the ones she had known were warped from being raised in captivity, but even so, she disliked Fairies and smaller birds and even the gray and silver moths that came out of the South on late Winter evenings, no matter how prettily Tullus wrote about them.

  “I’ll give you coins, if you’ll send word to me if anything changes,” she said. She reached for her pocket but he forestalled her with a hand.

  “I will bring word,” he said with dignity, “but there is no need to pay me for it.”

  She looked at his proud face, his reddened eyes. How does Bella manage to inspire such devotion in us all?

  Nonetheless she pressed a silver skiff in his hand and said, “It is not pay, but here in the city it is the custom to express our appreciation when we feel someone has gone above and beyond. It is a manner of honoring the Trade Gods Diahti and Diahmo, so perhaps you will do me the favor of taking it?”

  That is how she had been taught to couch it when she was a child, and the formula, so automatic it rose to her lips without her thinking about it, had always served her well. It did now, for he tucked the coin away without demurring further.

  “Did you know the girl?” she asked. “Skye? The student?”

  Teo’s face closed. “I am Bella Kanto’s servant, not a gossip,” he said. His hand strayed towards the pocket in which he’d stowed her coin.

  “No, no, of course not,” Adelina said quickly. She stepped away, severing the conversation before he could speak again, and hurried down the street.

  It was snowing heavily by now, thick muffling flakes that made the entire world seem quieter, but that only made the thoughts racing through her head seem louder, more urgent.

  Bella had killed people before, plenty of them. That would not concern her. But to have killed a student, and not just a student but perhaps one that she had loved? Bella would be scarred inside from that, and Adelina could not imagine how her friend might heal from the blow. Jolietta left her scars enough.

  She took a tram up three terraces to the Duke’s Junction, and a pedal cart along lower Archway to the Tumbril Stair. From there it was a straight shot down to the Nettlepurse manor, a chance to see things from above, the snow swirling everywhere, and the roofs softened by the accumulation. The snow squeaked and crunched underfoot, but everything else seemed dead and muffled by the enveloping whiteness. A good night to stay inside, to drink chal, and talk with family or friends.

  Would Bella do that? Adelina didn’t think so. Instead, she’ll hole up in her apartment, l
iving on the food Abernia sent up, pretending that the world doesn’t matter. That is Bella’s way and always has been.

  They were scheduled to meet in two days and talk about the match—a special edition of Bella’s adventures always included a close, exacting account of the match, written by Adelina at Bella’s dictation. The House could dispense with that custom on this occasion, and that would be much kinder than the alternative.

  What will happen if this soils Bella’s reputation to the point where it hurts her sales? According to the Trade Gods, any publicity was good, but reputation was part of the convoluted system. Bella’s finances were good enough to survive anything like that but it underscored the need to find some other way for Spinner Press to make money—depending on Bella was simply too risky, and surely, surely the state of affairs could not continue. She cannot always win.

  Will more students fall in trying to achieve that? A shiver crawled down Adelina’s spine. It was like a ghost story, some tale of doomed lovers colliding, one killing the other, to be haunted all her life by regret.

  But this was Bella Kanto, Bella Kanto the unsinkable. Who had weathered so much in life—surely she’d easily sail through this as well. The storm hadn’t been brewed yet that could defeat her. That had always drawn Adelina to her, that attitude, that unquestioning acceptance that she was beloved of the universe, and that it would always conspire to keep her happy.

  Not this time, though. That wasn’t what had happened this time at all.

  The next day, she found the damage was even less than she had feared. How unfair was that, that Bella could literally kill a girl, could cause a riot in which others died, and still remain Tabat’s golden hero? Yes, surely Bella will be all right in this. She’ll probably even find a way to turn it to her advantage.

  She didn’t need to worry whether or not Bella would keep the appointment. She would, and while she might be a trifle subdued, she would make a joke or three nonetheless, the usual irreverent dry Bella humor, and soon Adelina would find herself laughing despite herself.