Autumngale

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Etienne’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t expected Tamerlan to guess, had he?

  “Sometimes revolutions are necessary.”

  “Necessary for your people or necessary for you?”

  “My people need me. And I’d give anything to help them.”

  “Except what Allegra wants?”

  He flinched. “I didn’t know she’d take rejection so poorly.”

  There was another long pause where the only sound was the sound of the gears whirring as Tamerlan pedaled.

  “She’s not the kind of woman who takes ‘no’ well,” Tamerlan agreed. “How did you meet?”

  “There are many skills you learn when they’re grooming you to lead. You need to know every aspect of the city you will rule. You were surprised when I scaled a wall in the rain. That’s a small thing compared to the things I was taught. One thing was siphoning magic from sleeping dragons – just enough to keep the city safe in small ways. Like holding off plagues. I met Allegra six years ago – when the old Lord Mythos ruled. It was the year that the Green Plague hit Jingen and Xin. Do you remember it?”

  “Barely.” He’d been bought that year. He came to the city months after the plague was gone.

  “It was virulent and terrible. A man would sneeze and five hours later be dead in the streets. A child would go to bed whole and never wake. It haunted our cities. And Allegra was one of the Cure Mistresses fighting it. I was sent to help them with the authority and magic of the Lord Mythos at my disposal. That’s how we met – destroying the plague. I knew what kind of woman she was almost immediately – the kind of woman who could do anything.”

  “Even foment revolution.”

  “Revolution is only the change of power. She could be a queen like Queen Mer. A Legend in her own right.”

  “You sound like you’re in love with her.”

  “It would be crazy to love a woman like that. She would consume you alive.”

  Tamerlan chuckled. That seemed exactly true of Allegra. But he had a feeling that Etienne might like to have been consumed by her.

  “And why do you have no apprentice of your own?”

  “I should have one by now. But look at me.” Etienne barked a laugh. “I’m almost as crazy as you are, Tamerlan. Hunting a Legend. Turning down perfectly good offers of power. Working with my enemies. I’m adrift on the seas of power. I can sense that a huge wave is coming, but no matter how I scramble, I can’t avoid it and I can’t find a way to ride it out. It will swallow every city of our Plains whole in a single bite. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “Nothing but keep fighting.”

  He laughed – a cynical laugh. “Do you know how the dragons first came to the Dragonblood Plains? They came from the mountains. The dragonblooded were fighting amongst themselves and in their fighting, they created a terrible weapon. And once it was created, they could not defeat it. They fled their mountain homes to these plains. They married the people here. Lived with them. Mixed blood with blood. Until one day when the dragons followed them. And all their sins came home to roost. What can we do to avoid the terrors we have wrought? What can we do to avoid the fates we’ve twisted for ourselves? If anyone could do that – well, he’d be saved. Saved. Don’t we all want to be saved?”

  Tamerlan felt his eye burning at the thought of that. If there was one thing he wished he could be, it was saved. Saved from the voices. Saved from the guilt. Saved from the waves that tossed him back and forth like driftwood.

  “What kind of trap will hold the Grandfather?”

  “The clock held him,” Etienne said.

  “But what kind of bait would tempt him? I don’t like your plan to give up the rest of my vision to sedate him. I think we should try something else first. I think we should set a trap and wait for him to trip it.”

  “Now, that is a very good idea. It will require some thought.”

  And they sat together and listened to their demons as they raced to follow the twists and turns of the river.

  16: Lies and Rumors of Lies

  Marielle

  HE LOVED BUNNIES. HE was cooing to them as his father spoke in the background. He seemed too old for that – fourteen maybe and his full height though a little gawky, but the sweet expression on his face as he tended them made him look younger than he was. Azure faintly tinged him with the scent of aspens – gentleness.

  “He’ll be fine for the Alchemists. He’s clever. He reads. Valuable. You’ll be happy you paid such a low price for him.”

  He was trying not to listen, that was clear, as he put them back in their hutches, petting each head and offering green plants to them. It was a goodbye. And the sad swirls of wisteria scent that spun around him mingled with his golden warm honey and cinnamon scent and drew her in. She wished she could comfort him. Wished she could help him. Wished she could draw every thread of that wisteria purple from him and cast it away until he was all golden beauty without this thick wrapping of sadness.

  He flickered. And then he was in a gondola beside Etienne and they were both staring at the sleeping form of a dragon, half-buried in mud. And he smelled just as sad in the boat. Puffs of wisteria filled the boat and drifted behind him down the river.

  A spirit that looked like a King shot up from his form, ghostly and pale blue.

  “You’re not welcome here,” he said to her, authoritatively.

  She gasped. He could see her? Then the red-haired woman had not been a mistake at all. There were spirits claiming Tamerlan.

  “He’s mine,” the ghost said.

  He flicked a finger and she tumbled away, rolling through history and time. She was standing in the swirling snow beside a man wrapped in rags, a sword in each hand and a wild look in his eyes. A cage stood beside him, door flung open, and inside it, a single shell lay. It pulsed turquoise with magic. The man licked his lips and then the vision was gone and Marielle tumbled back into the whirl of time.

  17: Choan

  Tamerlan

  “AND HOW ARE WE GOING to get through that?” Tamerlan asked as they passed the city of Choan on one side and the city of Xin on the other bathed in the orange beams of the setting sun. Gulls swooped and called as they ended their day and the hurry of barges and riverboats grew more pronounced as they rushed to arrive at their destinations before the sun finally set.

  But for Tamerlan and his companions, the night had just begun.

  Beyond Choan, the Retribution fleet had drawn closer, until it was almost upon the city. White sails filled the horizon. And it was through those sails that they would have to pass to get to the Isle of Mer.

  He read the passage about Queen Mer for what must be the thousandth time.

  Queen Mer stays to guard us still and her avatar remains in the sea’s embrace, awaiting the time of the return of Legends. For she was placed among the arms of the sea and in the embrace of the tide she was set. She was honored on the Isle of Mer and enthroned in majesty there until the Day would come once again.

  It seemed clear enough. Queen Mer’s avatar was somewhere on or near the Isle of Mer. And the Grandfather was headed there for some unknown reason. What did he want with her? And was this the kind of bait that Tamerlan needed to set a trap for the Grandfather?

  Bait is something you put in a trap before your prey gets there, Deathless Pirate reminded him. This is not your bait. Turn your mind away from the thought.

  But if he could find out why Grandfather Time was so set on pursuing Queen Mer, then maybe he could figure out what he wanted. That was how you found bait – understanding what your prey wanted ...

  We should stick to the original plan, Abelmeyer argued. Stalk the Grandfather and catch him. All this business with traps and bait is too much like Ram the Hunter. It will drive you mad.

  The problem with having voices in your head was that it was hard to formulate plans when they kept interrupting all your thoughts with objections. And for that matter, if Queen Mer was a Legend, why was she never in his head?

  Becau
se she’s never won the right to steer your body, Abelmeyer said. She’s been preoccupied with other things.

  Tamerlan shivered.

  A barge of oranges floated by, heaped high and full with the round fruit and set on delivering them into the city. The Retribution flotilla hadn’t stopped the orange ships. How strange. With them waiting there like a dragon waiting to leap on its prey, you’d think they would stop them, but the delivery was here, just in time for Autumngale.

  Around the barge, a small skiff floated by, carrying a group of refugees. It was easy to recognize the hollow-eyed looks of people who had grown used to the idea that there was nothing left for them but ashes. These must be people from H’yi still filtering into Choan. Perhaps they had tried to survive for a time in the ruins there. Usually, Byron Bronzebow would be clamoring in Tamerlan’s mind – but he was oddly quiet.

  There had to be some way to help all these people. There had to be some way to rebuild the lost cities – Jingen and H’yi and bring back the prosperity they once had.

  “No one else cares,” Etienne said, looking at the same boat. His mind was in the same place as Tamerlan’s. “I want to make everything safe again, but no one else cares. Oh, they say that they care. You should hear your father wax eloquent on the matter in the balls Yan has been hosting.”

  “What are you doing attending Landhold Balls, Etienne?” Tamerlan asked, pedaling past the skiff. He didn’t want to think about his father. He’d avoided the man’s public appearances assiduously.

  He threw his irritation at the thought into pedaling. The pedals made them faster than any other boat on the river, and yet that gondola behind them was still gaining. His mouth formed a thin line as he looked over his shoulder to see it in the distance. It was always there. Always shadowing them. What magic could make it as fast as Jhinn’s little device?

  “I’ve been searching for cracks. Looking for ways to restore balance. The Five Cities are important. They must be restored, and the people kept strong. You aren’t the only one with the ability to hide in the shadows.”

  “Looking for ways to gain power again, you mean,” Tamerlan said bitterly. “That is, until you scorned Allegra.”

  Etienne shot him an angry look. “I’m here with you right now, aren’t I? Does this look like I’m grasping at power?”

  Tamerlan shrugged, but it couldn’t dislodge the guilt. “Sorry.”

  Jhinn’s snores in the bow of the boat continued unabated.

  “How will we get past that blockade?” he asked, still pedaling. They might be at odds in their view of the world, but they still needed each other to catch the Grandfather and put him back in the clock.

  Etienne was watching the slowing traffic. It was down to orange barges and family boats now. Every reputable boat had scurried to safety as darkness descended.

  Tamerlan lifted the coal in its small cage, planning to light the gondola light behind him but Etienne threw up a hand.

  “Not yet,” he said. “Wait.”

  He was tense, watching the boats.

  “The flotilla lets the orange boats through. They stop fishermen and other traffic, but they let the orange boats through.”

  “Sure,” Tamerlan said, but his eyes were drifting back to the gondola following them. Was it his imagination, or had they sped up again? How were they doing that?

  “It makes sense to blockade us from the sea. To weaken the cities by stopping trade. It makes sense if you are waiting to scoop them up when they grow weaker.”

  Now, he was certain of it. The other boat was gaining on them. Tamerlan felt for his sword. It was still there. And for his rolls of Spice. He’d need them too, if they were overtaken.

  “Which means they are biding their time,” Etienne mused. “Do you know how many oranges we use every year in the Orange Wars, Tamerlan?”

  “I have no idea.”

  And he didn’t care. Every year fools took perfectly good oranges and threw them at each other in mock wars that imitated the civil wars – the real Orange Wars. Every year people wandered the sticky, citrus-scented streets the next day with black eyes and broken noses from mock fights that got out of hand. No holiday in the Dragonblood Plains was hotter for the gambling community. There were bets on injuries and wins and losses and even though it was all pretend and meant nothing, those chalk lines actually did make a difference in the cities. If your side won, there were connections made, trade deals, respect from your fellows and that insubstantial currency subtly influenced your status and wealth. The Orange Wars on Autumngale were foolish and dangerous – but they did mean something.

  But he wasn’t thinking about Orange Wars. He was trying to gauge when he should smoke his Spice. Darkness was descending. Every moment made it just a little harder to see. And with the gondola lights unlit, he had to dodge empty barges going back out to sea to unload ships beyond the blockades and full orange barges headed back to the city. Why didn’t Etienne want the lights lit? Perhaps he thought they would lose their pursuers in amongst the traffic?

  “Thousands. But it’s better than actually killing each other. All those resentments and angers and disputes spill over into what has become a yearly sport – a war where territories are fought for and claimed by the throwing of oranges until one side or the other gives up and goes home. All they win is bragging rights. And yet it works. It commemorates our civil wars – and it prevents more civil wars.”

  It was more than that. Even Tamerlan knew that, and he was pretty sure that Etienne did, too.

  “That’s nice,” Tamerlan said as Jhinn stirred in the front of the boat.

  “I think that what we need to do,” Etienne said, “is leave this fine gondola in Jhinn’s capable hands while we take one of those barges to sneak past the blockade. And we need to do it quickly. Because when the Orange Wars start, I have a bad feeling that it will be more than oranges flying this year.”

  Tamerlan looked up. Was Etienne saying that the Whisper was going to act this Autumngale? The Orange Wars would be the perfect cover for a revolution.

  Tamerlan opened his mouth to ask if Etienne, but at that moment, Etienne launched himself over the side of the gondola, leaping onto the deck of an empty barge beside them.

  “What ho, good captain!” he called as Tamerlan cursed, jumping up from the pedals and Jhinn woke.

  “That boy is crazy!” Jhinn said, yawning as he spoke.

  “We need to leave you with the gondola,” Tamerlan said hurriedly, checking his sword, knife, cloak, belt pouch, rolls of spice – did he have everything?

  The gondola was gaining on them. He only had moments to make a choice.

  “Can you wait for us in Choan? I need to go with him,” he said to Jhinn and as the boy was still nodding, he leaned down, lit his Spice on the small brazier they kept to light the lanterns, and pulled in a draft of smoke.

  “I’ll be under the Jowl Bridge every night at sunset until you join me again!” Jhinn called as Tamerlan leapt up from the gondola, following Etienne into the dark. “And I’ll watch for you. Where Chaos reigns, that’s where I’ll find you.”

  They shook hands in the darkness.

  The gondola was nearly upon them and they’d just lost an ally in Etienne’s scramble. He’d better hope that he’d secured them a ship. This was all going way too crazy, way too quickly!

  And I’m here to save you from it all. Trust me.

  “Go!” he called to Jhinn and he leapt from the gondola as the Legend took him.

  18: At Sea

  Tamerlan

  IF YOU COULD HAVE CHOSEN someone to take you over – you’d choose Abelmeyer. He was noble and brave and incredibly skilled with the sword.

  Plus, I’m used to operating with just one eye!

  He sailed with Tamerlan’s body over the rail of the barge like he did this every day.

  Muscles and bone and nerves that flash with life! It’s a heady feeling! Let’s rule this world!

  His sword was out, flashing in the light of the barge lanterns
as he struck a noble pose to the horror of the barge workers.

  “We’re being taken! Our ship is being stolen from beneath us! Raise the warning!”

  Feet thudded on the decks and Etienne shot Tamerlan a furious glance, but it was Abelmeyer who spoke with Tamerlan’s voice.

  “STOP.”

  As if compelled, the sailors froze mid-stride.

  “Your barge is hereby needed in service of your cities,” Abelmeyer declared. “You will be compensated for this inconvenience and you will be sent back on your way as quickly as possible.”

  “You can’t take the barge. We’re hired out for the week!” The captain looked aghast. “As I was saying to your man here.”

  Etienne’s scowl deepened. He didn’t like being thought of as anyone’s servant.

  “And as I was saying,” Etienne said. “It will only take you a few hours out of your way. We need just one stop at the Isle of Mer.”

  And what did he think they would do after that? Without a ship or boat, they’d be stuck there.

  Our enemy will have transport. We will take it for our own.

  And what if he didn’t have ‘transport’? What if he’d made a deal just as foolhardy as ours? What if he had others with him and they kept us from taking his boat?

  You ask too many questions. Act. Don’t doubt. Do you want this or not?

  He wanted it.

  You called me. Now trust me to do the job.

  If Tamerlan could have clenched his jaw while Etienne finished the negotiation with the barge captain, he would have. But Abelmeyer had other ideas. He strode to the stern of the ship and peered out at the gondola following them.

  Where was it? It had been back there only a moment ago.

  Abelmeyer whirled, scanning the people on the deck, looking in every direction in the river around them.

  Where?

  Etienne strode over, smiling slightly.

  “Despite your hotheaded foolery, we’ve been given what we asked for,” he said.