Lilani had heard the sad story of her grandparents. But she’d also noted that the humans the old emperor had befriended were several generations removed from those who’d killed him. Living with humans required a shift in seelie thinking, one that many didn’t seem able to manage.
And by that rare flash of anger, Lilani knew she wasn’t going to get her mother to listen that night, especially if there was a chance that the story of her grandparents would be repeated. If anything happened to her mother, Lilani would have to lead her people, a role she wasn’t prepared for.
Lilani left the library, her thoughts whirling. Change was coming, that much was clear, and it involved the humans whether the seelie liked it or not. But they had time enough to take a look at the border, maybe spy on a few humans, and see what all the fuss was about.
* * *
As Vandra suspected, Fieta and Pietyr were eager to go on an expedition. They didn’t care that they had to invent fictitious relations near the border. Vandra stumbled over the lie, but her ineptitude seemed to work in her favor, at least with her colleagues. The piteous looks they gave her said they suspected a lie; they probably thought she was running away after her failure. As much as the thought made her squirm, anything that shielded her true mission was a boon, or so she told herself.
Her parents were harder to convince. As an alchemist at the university, Vandra was entitled to lease a small apartment so she wouldn’t have to live with her parents and youngest siblings. That didn’t stop her family from dropping by to see how she was doing and bringing the youngest—little five-year-old Sita—to charm her into coming home for dinner. And she knew she’d have to have a meal with them before she left and when she returned or she’d never hear the end of it.
They wouldn’t accept a story about anonymous relations. At the table that night, Vandra told them the university was sending her to the border on a fact-finding mission. It was true enough.
But Fieta felt the need to add, “They want to count the people living there who have no permanent houses.”
Vandra glared. They hadn’t discussed this particular lie! How was she supposed to—
“The five monarchs want to make sure no one’s living too close to the border,” Pietyr said. He didn’t even glance at his twin as he lied. Sometimes, Vandra thought they shared a brain. No wonder they’d always been adept at sneaking out of the house.
Like Fieta, Pietyr wore his black hair tied back from his face, but he’d shaved the underside. His dark eyes were as smiling and raucous as Fieta’s, but unlike her, he had several tattoos on his face, a star to the side of his left eye, and a small line following the curve of his lower lip, relics of when he’d flirted with becoming a gang member before joining the Watch. Fearing he’d be singled out for the marks, Fieta got a tattoo on each wrist, a hawk and a butterfly, the fierce and the beautiful. Their parents had ceased complaining about the tattoos now that neither of them were gang members.
Though they were still inveterate liars.
“Why does it have to be you, Vandra?” Mama asked as she handed food around. She was short like Vandra, and her curves had begun to soften with age.
“And with only the twins for escort?” Papa said. “They should send more.” He sat at the table, letting Mama bustle around. Most of Vandra’s childhood memories included him kneeling or sitting on the floor. A tall man, he hated to loom over his children, though the twins were nearly his height.
“They should send the Palace Guard,” Mama said. “Since you’re doing the city a favor.”
“Palace guards are too scared to leave the inner city,” Pietyr said.
Fieta grinned at him. “They might stub a toe.”
Vandra broke her bread in half and dipped some in her stew, hoping she wouldn’t be forced to answer any questions.
“Look at her frown,” Papa said, pointing. “She doesn’t want to go.”
“I’ll send the university a letter,” Mama said with a nod. She looked around to make sure everyone had food before she sat. “They can find someone else.”
“No!” Vandra yelled. When everyone glanced at her, she clutched her napkin. At least only four of her siblings were home, the twins and the two youngest. She wouldn’t have to lie to the other four, who were probably doing something much more enjoyable than being interrogated.
“Mama, Papa, please,” Vandra said. “I’m happy to go. It’ll be good to get out of Parbeh, and going will earn me…favor.” With Ariadne, perhaps, but not with the university. Even that small tweak of the truth made her wince.
Her parents knew how bad she was at lying, but they wouldn’t be able to figure out the truth from her expression. When they glanced at each other and resumed eating, she relaxed. They began to speak about their days. As a weaver and a banker, her parents kept busy. The twins had once asked how they’d found the time to raise nine children, but Vandra had snorted at the question. They’d raised two, Vandra and her elder brother, then had them raise the rest. Her childhood had been an endless parade of soiled diapers.
The twins spoke about their day, too, covering for her, and they soon had everyone laughing. When Vandra left that night, her parents hugged her and offered to get her out of the trip. She rolled her eyes but hugged them back, reminding them that they didn’t need to fight her battles, especially when there was no war.
“You can’t fault a parent for worrying,” they said, nearly at the same time.
Sometimes, she almost could.
The next day, a courier delivered a packet of money to Vandra’s apartment, along with a note from Ariadne to buy whatever food and supplies she needed. Vandra grinned. She hadn’t outfitted an expedition in years, and she’d missed it. After rushing through the shopping and pillaging some equipment from the university, they left Parbeh by midmorning.
A tent city had sprung up beyond Parbeh’s walls. The locals had taken to calling it Lowtown, as it sat on the bottom of the slope that led to Parbeh. Every settlement across Citran had acquired such a place. There wasn’t enough room in the cities to accommodate everyone, even fifty years after the retreat and the construction of the pylons. Tents that were supposed to be temporary had become permanent. Lowtown had some order, a semblance of streets, and some of the structures incorporated wood or tin, giving them a more permanent look. The major avenues were patrolled by the Watch, keeping Lowtown from becoming as lawless as some places near the border of Citran, where the desperate lived within spitting distance of the tattered lands.
The twins walked on either side of Vandra, both a foot taller than her and more imposing, even without their Watch uniforms. Maybe it was the tattoos that made people move out of the way, or it could have been the spear across Fieta’s back and the sword at Pietyr’s hip. Whichever, Vandra was grateful. The last thing she needed was some silly physical confrontation keeping her from her task.
When they were past Lowtown and into the fields, the twins chatted amiably, but Vandra barely listened, running through scenarios in her head, trying to see every variable even though she didn’t know the full scope of the pylon problem. She lost all track of everything else until an ache built in her feet and back.
When Pietyr pulled her to a halt, she blinked at him. “What?”
“Are you trying to walk all the way there in one go? It’s time to stop. We’re hungry.”
They were out of sight of the city, though the fields that supported Parbeh still rolled on each side of them. No wonder her back hurt. “I suppose we should rest. It is recommended from time to time.”
Pietyr snorted a laugh. Fieta plonked down on the ground. It wasn’t long before she was stretched out, feet propped up on her pack. Vandra sat at her side and took a more careful look around. In the nearest field, a large farming machine chuffed away, moving slowly and tilling the soil as it went. The sun struck its metal carapace and flashed like a signal fire. Several people trailed behind it, casting seeds back and forth. The five monarchs owned this land, and only those who grew crops f
or Parbeh would be given such a device and the precious syndrium needed to power it.
In another field, Vandra spotted a few shacks. They probably belonged to the farmers who worked the land, but they could have been squatters who’d soon be rousted. Every inch of this land was spoken for by crops, and the demand never went down.
The road through the fields led to Saribelle, the next closest city to Parbeh and the third largest in Citran. After that, there were no large settlements between Saribelle and the Seelie Forest, where the road turned north. No one seemed inclined to live near where those mysterious creatures dwelled.
Vandra remembered the tall trees from her first trip to the pylons. She’d been sorely tempted to explore the forest, maybe catch a glimpse of a seelie. She’d been enchanted with them when she was younger, would have loved to ask some questions. Of course, one could be standing right next to her, and she’d never know it, not with their famed ability to vanish from sight.
The thought made her shiver. “Don’t get too comfortable.” she said, nudging Fieta. “It’s only midday.”
“I like to rest to the fullest,” Fieta said, her eyes closed.
Pietyr handed out traveling rations: bread baked with nuts and berries, and a roll of soft cheese for them to share. “I suppose you’ll say it’s too early to break out the beer.”
She gave him a look. “If you want to finish our journey today dehydrated and with a headache, be my guest.” She held out the water skin and quirked an eyebrow.
He took it with a sigh. “Yes, Mama.”
“Since I cared for you as children, and you survived to adulthood, I take that as a compliment.”
Fieta snorted. “Shut up and eat your cheese, Mama.” Vandra poked her, and Fieta swatted her away. Before they could get into a mock fight, Pietyr sat between them.
“Think you can fix this pylon, Van?” he asked.
“Of course she can!” Fieta said as she sat up. “She can fix anything.”
“If it can be fixed,” Pietyr said.
Vandra shook her head, charmed by the compliment but still worried. Until the gods-cursed syndrium formula had gone wrong, she could have fixed anything. “There’s so much to do before I can answer that. You have to assess the problem—”
“Before you can treat the problem,” the twins chorused.
She had to laugh. “I taught you well.”
Fieta gave her a look. “Sometimes, Van, you sound like you’re a hundred years old.”
Vandra stuck her tongue out. No one else but this sister could manage to make fun of her, praise her, and tease her in under five minutes. Not for the first time, Vandra suspected that living in Fieta’s head was an emotional whirlwind.
“We have to assess situations like that in the Watch,” Pietyr said as he took a bite. “But just like with people, some problems can’t be fixed.” He stared at nothing, no doubt worried for the future. If the pylons failed, humanity had nowhere to go. She supposed she should have been focused on that rather than intrigued by the problem itself.
She patted his shoulder. “We managed to build them once. If they can’t be fixed, we’ll build them again.” She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. She’d failed so many times already. At least the pylons weren’t new. “And we’re not even fixing anything on this trip. We’re to observe and report back.”
So that the real alchemists could fix the problem.
The thought made her sigh. Her grandmama had once said that everyone was born with a pool of luck that they drew from all their lives, and one day, it ran out. Vandra had probably used all of hers on her first success creating syndrium.
Her hands squeezed into fists as every ounce of her rebelled against that dark thought. There was no luck, only hard work.
“Whoa, Van,” Fieta said. “Did your bread say something ugly to you?”
Vandra looked down to see crumbs raining from her fist and a berry smeared along one finger. She’d crushed her lunch: the perfect end to a string of frustrating thoughts. “I’m…eager to be off. You both ready?”
Fieta sighed and moaned but stood and donned her pack while Pietyr did the same without question. Maybe instead of luck, everyone was born with a pool of foolish, over-exaggerated emotional outbursts, and instead of using hers, Vandra had given it all to Fieta. At least Pietyr could be quiet once in a while.
The next tent city began when Saribelle was a speck in the distance. The fields from Parbeh had ended some time before, and now every clump of bracken or copse of trees seemed home to someone. A trickle of people moving toward Saribelle swelled the closer Vandra and the twins came to the city.
Fieta and Pietyr fell silent and walked closer to Vandra’s sides. She could almost feel the tension roiling off of them, as if their entire bodies were coiled. From the temporary shelters, people watched the flood of travelers with curious or hostile looks. Many of the faces staring from their hovels seemed dim or desperate, worn out from fighting to simply exist. There were too many people, had been ever since the human retreat, ever since the spread of the tattered lands.
The tent city against Saribelle’s wall was thick with people and dwellings and thin on roads or a City Watch. Vandra and the twins went single file, her in the middle. They stepped over tent pegs and the edges of lean-tos. They picked their way over people lying in the grass. Vandra pressed her sleeve to her nose to try to block out the smell of unwashed bodies and clothing, waste, and sickness.
Before the arrival of so many people, Saribelle had catered mostly to merchants and travelers on their way to and from Parbeh. It had a reputation for fine hotels and shops. She wondered if the whole place looked like this now.
When she and the twins stepped into an open area, a group of children gathered around, begging for coins. Vandra handed out a few while the twins brushed away the eager hands.
“That’s enough!” Fieta barked, and the children scattered. She and Pietyr hurried Vandra along. “You can’t give away all our cash, Van.”
“We have an assignment,” Pietyr said. “We might need the money.”
Vandra agreed with a frown. The guards around Saribelle’s wall let them in without a fuss, their clothing and weapons marking them as someone with money. Inside, the atmosphere changed. The press of people thinned, though there was still a crowd.
She thought of the machines in the fields, tilling as fast as they could until they ran out of syndrium. If she could get her formula to work, she could make all the syndrium they’d ever need, and the machines could run night and day, and there’d be food aplenty.
She just had to make sure they weren’t all killed by the tattered lands first. Then she could get on with fixing the world.
Chapter Four
Lilani couldn’t get humans out of her thoughts. Her mother had scouts watching the pylons, but Lilani would never be one of them. She couldn’t risk herself, or so she’d heard a dozen times. If she wanted to clap eyes on a human, there was only one way to do it.
She’d begun the day wandering the forest and practicing her shrouding, edging ever closer to the border. She thought about turning back several times. Her mother wouldn’t approve. Faelyn wouldn’t approve. Even her friends and lovers wouldn’t approve. Yesterday, she might not have approved, but didn’t such consideration show that she’d really thought about her actions? After all, her mother wanted to doom an entire species; the least Lilani could do was have a look at them before they were gone.
Plus, she intended to fight her mother’s decision. Surely there were other seelie who agreed with her. When they presented a united argument to the empress, Lilani intended to be ready with tales of peaceful farmers or woodcutters or whatever else humans did.
Awith would know. She’d lived with them, saved them, loved them. The thought made Lilani sigh. All her sexual encounters so far had been like slow, seductive dances, where magic flowed over the participants as intensely as kisses or caresses. Sex with a human would probably feel akin to making love to a naked fla
me, hot and hurried. Humans didn’t have time to waste, after all.
With such thoughts, the power inside her rose. She shrouded, holding the magic even while moving. An achievement to be proud of and embarrassed by at the same time. She ran, burning off energy, seeing if she could shroud while at top speed. She stumbled once, but she knew the forest well, and it wasn’t long until she reached the border.
She’d never been so close to the human lands. That alone was thrilling. She walked along the tree line as the air turned chill, afternoon bleeding into evening. Lilani peered through the trees, trying to see the road, to catch a glimpse of a human. When no one appeared, her hopes fell. At least no one in the Court would miss her for one night. Maybe the next day would yield better results. She found a comfortable tree with a curved branch that cradled her body and fell asleep thinking about humans.
When dawn woke her, there were still no humans in sight. A pity. If her dreams had summoned one, that would have made a fine story. She sipped from her canteen, scrounged for edible berries, and wondered how long she’d have to wait.
Oh, Faelyn was right; she was too impatient. One day and she was ready to give up? But as she watched the road, her boredom grew. Maybe her mother had made a mistake, and the humans were already gone. A sad thought. No, she wouldn’t accept that the humans had disappeared with no one to mark their passing. She’d look harder.
The day stretched on as she walked along the tree line, and still no humans. Should she leave the forest? Too dangerous. After all her practice, she could now shroud while moving, even running, as long as her thoughts stayed…excitable, but while her mother might forgive a trip to the border, she wouldn’t excuse a foray into human territory.
Afternoon turned into evening again, and Lilani groaned. She was tired of eating berries, but if she started home now, it’d be dark before she arrived. Better to sleep outside again than spend hours tripping over every clump of brambles in the forest. In the morning, she’d return to the Court in defeat, then she’d press her mother to send scouts to determine if the humans were still alive, and she had all night to think of an argument as to why she should be one of the scouts.
The Tattered Lands Page 4