Stone and Steel

by Eboni Dunbar

  “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I should have talked to you about it privately. Tried to understand you. Instead, I’ve ruined our first evening together in two years.”

  “Because you ain’t shit,” Odessa whispered, wiping her face. Aaliyah pulled Odessa back again.

  “How bout if I call for someone to finish filling the tub, light all these candles and we get you naked? How does that sound?” Odessa bit her lip, fighting a smile. “That sounds alright.”

  “Good.” Aaliyah kissed the top of Odessa’s hair, squeezing her tight. Odessa looked up at her. Aaliyah dipped her head and Odessa pressed up on her toes until their mouths met. Aaliyah moaned. She’d waited so long to be here with her woman, in their home. What did it matter who heard them? She could pretend that nothing was wrong for just one night.

  One night became two, and two became three, and suddenly Aaliyah’d been home a week and only left her room once, to lay in the garden and let the sun beat down on her black skin. Odessa stayed damn near glued to her side, but she did manage to disappear in the early mornings to accomplish some sort of work.

  After a week, though, Aaliyah could not be confined. She was a general and a woman of action. She couldn’t just sit on her ass. Before she went out, she dressed for rest, replacing her uniform for simple white tunic and black pants—she didn’t want anyone thinking she was on official business during her little outing. She smiled at every person she met as she moved through the Palace, chatting with those she knew and introducing herself to those she didn’t.

  When she reached the clerk’s office there was no one inside. She closed the door gently behind her. Shelves of ledgers and journals lined the walls and stood in the center of the circular room. Some of the books had neatly printed titles and dates, others appeared to be cobbled together from sheets of paper and pressed into a folio. Aaliyah had no idea where to start and limited time to figure it out.

  An open ledger rested on a low shelf near one of the great windows. Aaliyah meandered over to see what it was. The ledger contained a list in Jalil’s perfect handwriting. She’d missed her old friend. Jalil had been a voice of reason when they’d taken down the king. He was magli like her, and like her he made up for it with other talents. She ran her fingers over his careful scrawl:

  Sutton Builders: 4,000 pieces

  Mardell Linens and Co.: 9,000 pieces

  Camfar and Sons: 2,000 pieces

  Aaliyah studied the list but couldn’t be sure what they accounted for. No doubt Jalil would know but then she’d have to wait for him and then she might have to try to explain. She’d rather noto take Jalil into her confidence. She would leave that to Helima.

  Aaliyah chose the shelf that the open ledger rested as her starting place, hoping that the clerks preferred to have the newer ledgers closest to them. She made a gross miscalculation which she only realized after skimming through three ledgers that were not labeled. She tried the opposite tack, going for the furthest shelf, but there she was thwarted too. She was about to just turn in a circle and point when Jalil returned to his office.

  He was as scrawny as ever, five feet five inches and a hundred pounds soaking wet. His hormones seemed to be suiting him, as he’d grown a beard since she’d last seen him. His brown face went from complete shock to amusement as he surveyed the places she’d been rummaging.

  “Welcome home, General,” Jalil said. Aaliyah rolled her eyes and crossed the room to him. Helima had added Jalil to their crew when they were sixteen and he’d made a good ally for strategy with Odessa. He had a head for details and an education, was it any wonder that Odessa had put him in the clerk’s office? They dapped and she pulled him in for a big hug. He smelled like hair oil and coffee.

  “You look good, old man,” she said. Jalil ducked his head, returning to the makeshift desk. “Have you seen Helima yet?”

  Jalil paused. “No. I thought maybe you had kept her busy.”

  “Oh, she might be doing inventory,” Aaliyah lied. “Doesn’t want to see you until the numbers are right.”

  Jalil nodded but he didn’t look at her. He knew what she looked like when she lied. He wanted to believe her.

  “In other news J, I need your help.” He turned to look at her now, leaning against the back of his chair and trying to force a bigger smile on his face. “Don’t you always? What do you need?”

  “I’m looking for the ledger from last summer. We ordered additional cannons for the front but only received one of the five we requested. Do you have the procurement order?”

  Jalil moved to a shelf in the middle of the room. Aaliyah snorted. It was the last place she would have looked.

  “August, right?” Jalil said. “We had a lot of spending then, so it spans two books.”

  “A lot of spending? Why? I didn’t think we requested that much,” Aaliyah said.

  Jalil didn’t take the bait, he returned to the desk, sat and opened one of the ledgers. “It’s just that way sometimes.”

  Aaliyah waited patiently while he looked through one ledger and then the other. He scowled at the lists before finally stopping on one line. He handed the book to Aaliyah.

  Solar Blacksmith: 2,000 pieces

  Mardell Linens and Co.: 15,000 pieces

  Aaliyah swallowed. “The blacksmith is our canon?”

  “Yes.”

  “We only purchased one canon?”

  “Yes,” Jalil said tentatively. “And Mardell Linens is?” Jalil wouldn’t meet her eyes. “The Queen’s dressmaker.” Aaliyah bit back a curse. “How many gowns does fifteen thousand pieces buy?”

  “Five.”

  “All for the queen?” Aaliyah looked up into Jalil’s face. He looked down at his feet and bit his lip as though willing himself silent. She waited until she reined in enough of the anger

  throbbing in her chest to speak calmly. “Thank you, Jalil, this has been helpful. I’ll make sure Helima brings you the inventory.”

  Aaliyah handed him the book back and turned to go. He grabbed her arm. “Be careful.”

  She smiled. “Why? I’m not doing anything.” Jalil nodded and quickly turned away from her. He didn’t believe a word she’d said.

  Aaliyah found Helima was sitting on her bunk with a book in her hand when she entered the barracks. Sherrod was out like a light. Aaliyah whistled and both of her people followed her back out of the barracks into the afternoon sun. Sherrod only required one kick from Helima. Aaliyah led them to a tree in the far corner of the training yard where they could be afforded some privacy.

  Before them stood new recruits learning the careful formations of the army: scrawny and fat, every gender and lack thereof. They practiced their first formation—it involved raising their spears up to their full height and then down into an army- rending strike.

  “Out of your sex haze, huh?” Sherrod said. “If I were you I’d still be in bed right now. And when exactly are you going to mention the name of your pretty maid to me? I just think we should know if we’re sharing—”

  Aaliyah shot him a look. “I’ll be quiet now,” he said quickly, looking down at his feet and then out at the yard.

  Helima said nothing, studying Aaliyah’s face. Aaliyah took a deep breath, pushing her anger down as much as she could.

  “You haven’t seen Jalil,” she said.

  Helima looked at the ground. “That’s your business?”

  “It hurts him,” Aaliyah said. “And that’s my business.” Helima sighed and crossed her arms. Sherrod looked between them. For all that he was her third he still didn’t entirely understand their relationship, he wasn’t yet privy to their secrets. She liked Sherrod, and appreciated that he was gifted in fire, but he didn’t have their bond. He didn’t understand the loyalty of the street. Aaliyah had fed Helima one night when she’d been young and hungry, and the younger woman had followed her ever since. Odessa had thought it was funny but Aaliyah had a
lways understood the gift that Helima’s trust was.

  “I’ll see him,” Helima said. “And talk to him,” Aaliyah added. Helima rolled her eyes but she nodded. “I need to know what’s been happening here while we’ve been gone.”

  Helima’s eyes narrowed. She should know that it wasn’t just about that. Aaliyah wanted to know about what had been happening but she had other sources. She held Helima’s gaze.

  “Sherrod?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” She sucked her teeth. “Damn, I can’t do nothing right today,” Sherrod said. “You have a maid you can ask don’t you? About what’s been going on?”

  “Yeah. Ashanti’ll tell me.” Helima sighed and nodded her head slightly. Good, Aaliyah needed her to understand.

  “What are you going to do?” Helima asked. “I’m going to the ‘Ville.”

  “Odessa will throw a fit,” Helima said. “Not to mention you’ll get robbed,” Sherrod added. Aaliyah and Helima both snorted. “Fuck you guys. Just cause you’re a couple of bad asses from a fucked up—”

  “Magli, I’ll be fine. But you don’t go down there,” Aaliyah said. She looked back at Helima. “I need Mercedes’ point of view. She won’t lie to my face.”

  “Damn,” Sherrod said. “She means from who was left behind. She trusts you fine,” Helima said, rolling her eyes. “Sensitive ass. We’ll do the palace work. Just be careful around that bitch.”

  Aaliyah nodded, warmed by the exchange. For all that she pretended to be a hard ass, Helima was a big softie. Now she just had to get out of the palace without Odessa noticing.

  It took a few hours to contrive a plan to get out of the Palace.

  She put together an outfit from old clothes, things that barely fit her now, since she’d built more muscle on the road. No one would think she was a general in the plain grey tunic and even darker grey pants. She collected them into a tight bundle and took them down toward the kitchen, like they were laundry.

  “General?” A small voice said. Aaliyah cursed her misfortune. The child before her smiled, their bright white skin turning pink. They did not have the look of the Oxnar people, who were a similar milky white but with features that tended more sharp and severe, so Aaliyah recognized them for what they were, stripped as they said on the street, their flesh washed away of brown by the many gods. They looked down at their feet then up at Aaliyah again.

  “How may I help you, little one?” Aaliyah asked. The child pinked further, the flush spreading to their neck.

  “I...if...if it pleases you, I could take your laundry,” they said and Aaliyah looked down at the bundle.

  She looked back up at the child ,catching a glimpse of a figure in the mouth of another hallway ahead of them. She’d seen the flap of black cloth as they ducked back into the shadows. She glanced over her shoulder but saw no one at her back, only the marbled hall she’d already traversed. Aaliyah felt anger rise in her.Someone was watching her. In the Palace. Who would dare? The child sucked in a breath and Aaliyah refocused, smoothing her features so she didn’t look so upset.

  “Thank you for the offer. Would you mind very much if I walked with you?” Aaliyah asked.

  The child’s eyes bulged and a hand went up to their short cropped hair before they brought it back to their side, an aborted self-soothing gesture. Aaliyah hazarded a glance at the shadows but could see nothing there now.

  “If...if it pleases you,” the child said. Aaliyah nodded, standing up straight and holding out her hand. The child blinked rapidly, then tucked their hand into Aaliyah’s. Their fingers were clammy with nerves but Aaliyah squeezed them reassuringly before turning them back on their path. The child didn’t chatter, simply led and Aaliyah appreciated the silence. She could hear, now that she knew to listen, the slight sound of swishing fabric behind them. They’d used air magic to quiet themselves, but not completely. Whoever wanted her followed must be counting on her magli ass not to notice, or didn’t care that they might be found out.

  “Why are you bringing down your own laundry?” the child asked, breaking through her thoughts.

  “I didn’t want to be in my room. What’s your name?”

  “Ko.”

  “How long have you worked in the palace, Ko?”

  “All my life,” they said. Aaliyah nodded. The child had to be at least nine, long enough then to have experienced the old king, who preferred to keep his servants, more like slaves, close.

  “I grew up in the ‘Ville,” Aaliyah said. Ko sucked in a breath and unconsciously squeezed her fingers. She knew what people thought of her home district: that it was full of nobody but thieves, whores and addicts. The source of cassa adu, the drug that ravaged Titus and felt like the greatest love those who smoked it could ever know. They weren’t wrong but it was also more than that. “It’s not so bad, little one, but it means I don’t do well with being indoors so long. I like to lean against walls outside.”

  Ko nodded, their expression grave. They looked as if they might speak, but hesitated, peering about as if someone might overhear them. Aaliyah took the moment to look back over her shoulder but she still couldn’t see who was following them. Ko leaned in and Aaliyah bent her knees so the child could whisper in her ear.

  “I know a secret place where you can be outside but within the walls.”

  Aaliyah cocked an eyebrow. “Where is that?” Ko smiled and then took Aaliyah’s hand again, pulling her as quickly as their little legs would carry. Before long they were running, drawing the attention of other servants. Aaliyah tried to slow them, to allow her to plan how to best shake their shadow but Ko’s running seemed to have it covered. Their shadow had disappeared. She noticed that somehow they had lost their shadow.

  Ko took a few turns that left Aaliyah dizzy—she didn’t know the palace well enough yet—before arriving at a door that Ko flung open and released them into a garden.

  Aaliyah had never seen its like. Instead of traditional trees, each of the long limbs and rotund trunks were stark white, with leaves that looked more like straightened hair blowing in the wind. The flowers were also porcelain but their petals were green, blue, gray and brown, the colors of eyes. Nothing was overgrown, the brown bushes trimmed neatly against the grand stone wall. Someone had been tending this garden.

  Aaliyah released Ko’s hand, turning in circles. “What garden is this?”

  “The garden of bone,” Ko said, their smile brilliant. “If you follow the path, it leads you out to the main road, through the side of a great wall.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “No one does. Everyone who knew it is dead.” Aaliyah stopped and looked at them, wondering just how much death they had seen in their young years. She started to ask them but then thought better of it, they didn’t need to rehash all the ways that Ko had been traumatized. The child was giving her a gift, she could repay it without pain.

  “This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  “You’re welcome.” They led Aaliyah back through the hallway at a slower pace and she committed the route to memory. She let Ko lead her to the laundry and pretended to leave her items. She kissed the child on the cheek, which turned their pale face beet red, before they kissed her cheek too and took off running.

  Aaliyah retrieved her bundle with little effort and made her way back to the garden of bone.

  Ko hadn’t lied, the little bone strewn path led to a great wall

  with an ancient door of petrified wood. Aaliyah changed and hid her clothes behind a shrub. When she exited the garden, she ended up in the palace commons, the district nearest the palace walls, the grandeur of the houses showing that they at least were not suffering under Odessa. The commons was marked by its wealth but also by the ornate stone decorations which only the palace commons residents could afford to create to honor the magic of their ruler. Aaliyah wondered briefly how no one in the palace had known about it, only a magli former slave and now th
e General of the great army. She decided not to judge her gift but to accept it and praise the gods later.

  She made her way through the city unnoticed but not without taking stock of her city. The beautiful, dark stone houses of palace commons were nearly as tall as the palace walls and cleaned daily by some servant or another. Here lived merchants and those not quite rich or important enough to have apartments within the palace walls. Aaliyah lowered her head as she moved through the area, though the streets were traveled mainly by servants, the masters who might know her face inside or still drunk from the night before.

  When Aaliyah left palace commons and passed through the

  neighborhoods of Echo and Oxi, she began to see the sorts of conditions she had expected to change.

  When Odessa had become queen, she’d promised Aaliyah that she’d build homes for the homeless, keep people fed, find ways to keep children safe and off the streets. Yet here Aaliyah was five years later, surrounded by people sleeping on the cobblestones, hungry and sick. She saw a few people with eyes burned out and white, their flesh falling from their bones—adu withdrawal. They reminded her of her mother, before she’d disappeared. Aaliyah wondered if she would find the woman now among the addicts, could envision Odessa’s wicked smile if she did. Odessa was meant to be helping and yet the people suffered. Perhaps even worse than they had under the old king.

  Whistles and chirps sounded from the rooftops as she crossed into the ‘Ville. The kids playing lookout scurried off and the corner boys disappeared into mud brick buildings. She cocked her head and listened. The sounds of the ‘Ville brought a smile to her lips. They were the same chirps and rhythms that she grew up with. They hadn’t tagged her as military, at least not yet. A boy of no more than sixteen, well fed and well dressed in his leather pants and shoes, fell into step with her. They walked for a full block before she acknowledged him with a nod. He sped up and turned so he could keep one eye on her face and the other on the path ahead of them. “Wassup? Whachu need?”