by G. Howell
“And you have room, don’t you?”
“I’m sure there’s space in the servant’s quarters.”
He growled. Hell, those apartments were insulated and had hot and cold running water, glazing, heating, and were ready for electricity – once we got that running. That was more than could be said for a lot of the luxury apartments I’d stayed in in Rris mansions. The staff worked hard and had to put up with things they considered weird, so I made sure they were well looked after. “They may find that… insulting.”
“Well, then,” I grinned then, more with satisfaction than humor. “It’ll be the northern guest room.”
“That… ah,” he said, then snorted. “You do have other rooms, don’t you?”
“They’re being rebuilt,” I reminded him. “I doubt they’ll be done. I think that’s the only one available.”
“But the …” he started. “That was changed, was it?”
I shrugged. “Didn’t think we’d need it so it was put off for the time being. If they’re so determined to stay there, I’m sure they’ll get used to it.”
“Unless they’re driven mad from lack of sleep.”
“Oh, now we wouldn’t want that,” I replied, turning back to my sketch and hacking a line that held more of my anger than anything in the scene in front of me. “They might decide to look for lodgings elsewhere.”
From his expression it was obvious that he wasn’t sure if I was being serious or not. “Don’t try those games, Mikah. That’ll only make things worse.”
“Worse,” I sighed. “I’m really getting tired of this. Now, they’re going to watch me all the time, are they?” I nodded at the slim figure who’d settled herself not far enough away, an ear tilted in our direction. I didn’t give a damn about her hearing something she might find insulting. “Every time I have a conversation I’m going to have to put up with that listening in.”
“Perhaps they’ll learn to trust you,” he said.
I stopped sketching again to think about that. “You think that might happen?”
“Stranger things have happened. Look…”
“…Look at me,” I chorused along with him. “Yes, thank you.”
He chittered and blew smoke. “No, seriously. You remember the first time we met? I wasn’t sure about you then. I think I’ve changed.”
“If I recall correctly, you seemed a lot more relaxed about me than most people are. You actually grabbed my arm. Not many Rris did that when they first met me - apart from some of the learners at the University, and I think they would have been even happier if they could’ve cut me open. I think you’re a bit different from most Rris.”
He tipped his head back to thoughtfully study the sails overhead and his muzzle wrinkled. “I’m trying to work out whether or not that’s a compliment.”
That tweaked a smile from me. “It was supposed to be a compliment, but I’m pretty sure they’re not like you: change worries them. And I’m more change than they like.”
“You think they’re that perturbed?”
“Hell, some of them think I’m a spy. Others think I’m an animal; something from another country. It’s going to take a lot of time just to get past that kind of thinking, let alone getting them to actually trust me.”
He frowned and puffed thoughtfully for a while. I’d finished that one quick sketch of the helmsman in a corner of the page and shifted to another subject almost without thinking: a figure sitting over on the roof of the cabin, gazing off into the distance but with one ear slanted our way. I blinked at what I’d done. Strangely enough those lines had flown easier than some of the other sketches I’d done that day.
“Then perhaps you should start sooner rather than later,” he eventually said. “Cooperate with them now.”
I clenched my teeth. “Perhaps.”
Another pause. “But that’s not why you’re so angry at them is it,” he said, quietly this time. Could she hear that? “They touched something personal.”
I didn’t answer.
Chaeitch blew another streamer of smoke into the air. “It’s the teacher, isn’t it,” he said, also quietly, and it wasn’t a question. “They involved her. That’s all I can think of that could get you like this. What have...”
“Chaeitch,” I was barely able to choke the Rris words out. “Don’t. For her, please don’t talk about that.”
His ears went back and he stuck the stem of his pipe back in his mouth. I could see his needle-teeth were biting it as he took a long draw. There were question building up there, that wasn’t hard to see and for another few heartbeats he inhaled and inhaled a cloud of fragrant smoke. “It was something you were able to agree on,” he finally growled. “It wasn’t extortion?”
“It was the only way,” I said. “Please. Enough. It’s not something I can discuss.”
“All right,” he sorted. And eyed me again. “You can’t talk, but I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’ve done.”
I didn’t say anything.
Another snort, then he leaned back against the rail and have a rib-heaving sigh. “All right. If you can’t, you can’t. Is there anything I can do to help?”
That hit me. Hard. He was one of the very few people in this world I felt I could call a friend, whom I felt I could trust. But that was the problem: my feelings here were completely unreliable. When it came down to it he was a Rris and I … I wasn’t. I called him a friend, but I still didn’t know if the Rris concept of friendship was the same as mine. From the first time I’d met him he’d treated me…he treated me like another Rris, and perhaps that was the difficulty. He treated me like one of his kind, and on an instinctive level he probably expected me to act like a Rris: He’d expected that I’d cooperate with whatever the Mediators wanted; he’d had no inkling that his becoming involved with Chihirae would upset me; he was surprised when I did something that wasn’t what he’d consider normal.
But, when all was said and done, he was something I didn’t want to lose. When I put my brain in the driving seat, trusting him just wasn’t safe. He’d let the Guild know my whereabouts which had almost gotten me killed. Granted, he’d thought he’d been acting in my best interests, but it was a concern. Despite that, I didn’t want to not trust him. I liked him, damn it. So I succumbed to that ape ingratiating instinct that wanted to fit in. That part of me that could accept the impossible as normal just to be a part of it
“Thank you,” I told him quietly. “For now, nothing is best.”
“Huhnn,” he growled and worked the pipe a little more, puffing streams of smoke before he ventured, “But you will do as they ask.”
I nodded as I sketched in shoulders and an arm laying over the fold of her kilt. “A. As they ask,” I told him.
A small sound of amusement, or perhaps exasperation. “You won’t try any of those cublike games of trying to take instructions too literally? The Guild isn’t known for its sense of humor.”
“I will do what they request,” I told him.
I think another low growl escaped him then. He wasn’t sure to believe me or not. “Chaeitch,” I said. “I won’t cause trouble.”
Now he did laugh. The ears on the female across the way pricked. “That I’m sure I’ve heard before,” he chittered. “Now, where have I heard that before?”
I stopped my sketching. “What? You think I will?”
“I’m beginning to think you can’t help it,” he laughed again and gave me another quick flash of white teeth. “Even after your promises to the teacher.”
I bit my lip. “Yeah. Don’t remind me.”
He chittered. “Don’t look like that. She’ll understand.”
“It was a promise I couldn’t keep.”
“Not that again,” he snorted and laughed again.
“Hey!” I protested. “It wa
s important.”
“Smooth your ruff,” he yawned and blinked placidly, amusedly. “You kept your word regarding the other one.”
“Not really the same,” I grumbled.
“Of course it is,” he said with a dismissive tip of his hand. “You know, you never answered that me about that gift. How did you know about those?”
“You know, you’re right,” I said. “I didn’t.”
He waited a very short while, until he was sure I didn’t have anything else to say on that and then dismissively waved his hand again. “Huhn, so, be that way.”
I sketched only one more line before I had to ask. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
“Now you ask my opinion?” he growled, sniffed and clamped his jaws around the stem of his pipe.
“Chaeitch…”
“Don’t fret,” he laughed, the frown evaporating. “I tease you. No, it’s fine. It’s better than I would have thought possible under the circumstances. She will… I think she will like it.”
I sighed quietly.
“And that’s your greatest concern,” he laughed quietly. “What she’s going to think. Is there anything you’re looking forward to?”
I leaned back against the wood of the railing behind me, feeling the sway of the ship’s motion, the tension creaking through the entire structure from the stresses the masts placed on it. I sighed. “My own bed; food that’s cooked properly; doors high enough that I don’t hit my head; a hot shower, and an absence of people trying to kill me. Some peace and quiet.”
“Peace and quiet?” he asked. “You know it’ll be back to your usual schedule?”
“A. But compared with these past couple of weeks a rotted war would be peace and quiet.”
In retrospect, that probably wasn’t the best thing to wish for.
------v------
We reached Shattered Water in the afternoon of the following day.
The morning passed as the others had. Dawn had been just beginning to streak the sky when the Goose had set out from the last anchorage. The early air was still and cool, with barely enough breath to flex the sails and nudge the ship from its cove. That changed as the morning brightened, as the temperature climbed and the cats-paws across the water turned to more substantial breezes that billowed the white sails and set the spars and timbers to creaking as they drew the ship along.
I settled myself amidst a nest of ropes at the front of the ship, up where I could look back along the length of the vessel and continued filling in pages with sketches. There was still plenty to think about, and that gave my hands something to do while I thought the morning away.
By the afternoon the skies were blue, the sunshine hot and striking an almost metallic glare from the glittering water. I was the first to see the distant shore, before the nearsighted Rris could. From my perch at the front of the ship I leaned into a warm wind that carried the scents of land, of dust and sun-dried grass and forests and watched the approach of the distant smudged line. Over the next few hours that slowly resolved into greenery; into a strip of terracotta specks and flashes of light on glass; grew into the saw-edged peaks of tiled rooftops and jutting chimneys.
Outside the harbor walls the sails came down. A tubby steam tug puttered out, its paddle wheels slapping at the water. Lines were thrown and the little steam engine spewed smoke and sparks as the wheels churned again and actually got the mass of the Goose moving into the harbor. Above the hissing and banging of the engine I could hear the sounds of the town, the sibilant undercurrent of thousands of Rris voices like surf on shale as the populace went about their usual business.
Chaeitch and Rraerch flanked me at the rail as we passed between the walls of the breakwater.
“It’ll be good to stand on something solid,” Rraerch grumbled.
“I’m looking forward to a decent meal,” Chaeitch responded.
“And yourself, Mikah?” Rraerch prodded me. “You have something you’re looking forward to?”
“All of the above,” I offered.
A chitter of laughter. “And your teacher?”
That pricked my balloon. I hesitated. “I don’t know how I’m going to face her.”
“Ah,” Rraerch snorted. “You can appease her easily enough. Just show her some good sex and I’m sure she will… “
“Do you want to get off here?” I asked, feeling a hot flush creep up my neck.
“But we haven’t… ah, he’s changing color again,” she chittered at me. “Really, Mikah, that is what you were intending, wasn’t it?”
Rris. So damned practical and forthright and completely shameless. And worst of all, my so-called friends knew how to needle me. I gritted my teeth. “What I was intending was ... I don’t exactly know.”
Chaeitch lolled his tongue. Rraerch made a low yowling sound and chittered again.
The mediators watched, but they kept their distance and silence. Marasitha handed a message satchel to a Land-of-Water guard. The moment the ship drew up to the royal wharf, the trooper was over the side, dropping to the flagstone wharf like the fall was nothing at all and sprinting away toward the offices at the end of the pier while the rest of us waited for the gangplank. I could guess what was in that dispatch: information about everything that’d happened, all that little clerk’s latest accounts and reports. After all, there was no way for the news to travel faster than the ship so that satchel would be the latest news from Open Fields to Shattered Water.
Solid ground did feel good, after a week on a deck that could be at one angle one moment and another the next. As we walked up the stone wharf the Rris fell into their formation around me: Chaeitch and Rraerch close at hand with Marasitha scurrying behind; the Mediators flanking us, Guards ahead and behind. I had my notebook computer slung over my shoulder and carried the folio the Lady had given me under my other arm: a featureless rectangle of technological aesthetics on one side and a polished piece of natural art on the other. Dockhands and crew were already bustling to unload the ship, the cases of luggage due to follow along after us.
Someone at the dockyard had been on the ball. By the time we reached the end of the wharf a pair of carriages and their draft elk had been hustled from the dock stable, been harnessed, and were waiting in the courtyard before the gates. I climbed into one along with Chaeitch, Rraerch and Jenes’ahn. Her partner took position up with the driver with his scattergun in hand. Inside, I stared at Jenes’ahn and she stared back, before blinking and turning to the view outside as we lurched into motion, turned a tight circle and left the yard.
That trip through Shattered Water was slow and uneventful and hot and muggy. Within fifteen minutes the fabric of my t-shirt was soaked with sweat and sticking to the leather seats. And all the Rris were panting like bellows, their tongues lolling and chests heaving. I leaned toward the wooden screen covering the window for what breeze there was – carriages simply didn’t go fast enough to produce much of a airflow. The weirdest thing about that part of the journey was that I was actually looking out at alien landmarks that had become familiar passing by and feeling… a sense of relief. It actually felt like the worst was past; had been surmounted and I was on the final stretch. It took us through markets and along thoroughfares and over flagstones and cobbles. Along the lakeshore districts on the outskirts, where the buildings were spaced further and further apart and separated by fields and trees and hedgerows. Discreetly, politely, separated and out of sight of one another.
Finally, there was a gate and guardhouse. We stopped and there were voices outside. The door was opened and the troop commander looked in, saw me. “Sir,” he said. “Welcome back.” He also saw the Mediator sitting opposite.
“Thank you,” I replied and then gestured at the armed female. “So you know: two Mediators will be residing here. Expect to see them around.”
“Yes, sir,” he said
and stepped back. “Please, continue.”
The house hadn’t changed. Of course it hadn’t. It’d only been a few weeks. The trees and plants of the grounds were lush and verdant and offered welcome shade. Afternoon sunlight shone through the greenery and glinted on the windowpanes. Airing rugs hung from open windows and sheets were on the lines. Fresh paint on trim and eaves gleamed green and yellow and orange, colors that were reflected in the brilliant hues of explosions of wildflowers stippled across the grounds. On the front porch a delicate set of brass wind chimes tinkled at the very high range of my hearing. We stepped down from the carriage onto the sun-warmed flagstones, Chaeitch and Rraerch vigorously ruffling their fur to shed some heat and the Mediators stoically dealing with it. The front door swung open and Tich was standing there dressed in her immaculate brown and gold housecoat as though our appearance was entirely expected.
“Sir,” she said, inclining her head politely. “Welcome back, sir.”
“Hi, Tich,” I said as I stepped up onto the porch. “Thank you.”
“We were expecting you some time earlier, sir,” she said as she stepped aside. “There were concerns. I trust there were no difficulties?”
Difficulties? My diaphragm spasmed in a grunt of a laugh before I caught myself and just said, “It was… is she home?”
“Her Ladyship?”
“A.”
“She left, sir,” Tich said and I stopped dead, staring at her. She blinked and elaborated: “Just an hour ago. A meeting with an associate, I believe. She is due back later.”
I felt my heart start beating again. “Thank you,” I choked out and looked around at the Rris behind me. Chaeitch gave me a peculiar look. “We’ve got a couple of… guests,” I told the majordomo. “Mediators. Two of them.”
She looked at the pair and that wasn’t enough to ruffle her feathers. “Very good, sir. How long will they be staying?”
“Indefinitely at this point,” I said. “The north wing guest room, I think. Until we sort something else out.”