by Sharon Lee
“Yes,” Cael said, carrying mugs to the table. “After we are done here, I will take him out to hunt.”
I closed the fridge and looked at him.
“Maybe you’d better ask what he’s used to eating on a regular basis.”
“That is well thought,” Cael said, and turned to address Oscar.
I went back to the stove and flipped the sandwiches. The cheese was nice and melty and the bread was deeply golden brown. Perfect. I slid them off the griddle and onto plates.
“Food’s up.”
Cael took the plates away, and carried them to the table. I made sure the burner was off, followed him—and kept going, prompted by the land.
I pulled the door open just as Artie’s finger hit the bell. He blinked at me in clear consternation, apparently having forgotten what he was going to say.
“Hey, Artie.”
“Kate.” He swallowed and held up a manila envelope. “You got a Cael Wolfe living here?”
“Just until he finds his own place,” I said, eying the envelope with trepidation.
“This just come in,” Artie said, interrupting my thoughts, “express, Kate. Ain’t nothin’ comes in express.”
“Well…” I started, but Artie was cruising on.
“All his papers’re in here. Born outta the country—place called Sri Lanka—so we got those records, and the ones saying he’s a naturalized citizen; got a passport, licenses, Social Security card.” He thrust the envelope at me; I grabbed it before it hit my nose.
“You want to meet him?” I asked, and before he could answer, I called over my shoulder. “Cael? There’s somebody here you should know.”
He arrived silently, Oscar at his knee. I stepped back, so Artie could get a good look.
“Cael, this is Artie; he holds service to the entity called the Enterprise, up the hill. Artie, this is Cael the Wolf, Master of Hounds.”
Artie blinked.
“How’s he trenvay?” he demanded, then shook his head and looked at Cael. “Sorry. Ain’t often a new trenvay rises, but it’s no reason to lose my manners. Pleased to meetcha.” He held out a hand.
Cael met it and they shook.
“I am pleased to meet you, Artie. As to how I am trenvay, when I gave my oath to my lady, the land accepted me, through her.”
Artie’s eyes narrowed.
“So you really ain’t from around here.”
“I am, now, from around here,” Cael said, and nodded at the envelope in my hand. “My thanks, for delivering my certifications to my lady. They will also say, for those others, that I am now from around here, is that so?”
“That’s so, brother.”
“Then all is well.”
“Anything else we can do for you today, Artie?” I asked.
“Naw; gotta get back up to the Enterprise. I don’t like to leave it so early, but I figured with an express. Well, like the man says, everything’s fine. Good day to the both of you—and Kate, you let me know when I can pick that rooster up.”
“Just as soon as the new horse is in, I’ll give you a call.”
“Right, then.”
He bent at the waist in what he might’ve intended to be a bow, and went down the stairs, his steps heavy. I closed the door, and handed the envelope to Cael.
“Something for you to study. Did you get a wallet, yesterday?”
He tucked the envelope under his arm. “Yes. Your lady grandmother said that I would need one, soon, and to keep it with my extra clothes.”
“Everybody’s prescient but me,” I complained and sat down to address my cooling sandwich.
* * *
Oscar had apparently confessed to Cael a partiality for Iams dog food, so we walked down to Ahz’s Market to take care of that detail.
Early though it still was, the sidewalks were starting to fill up with tourists. A family group towing a wagon full of beach stuff created a temporary traffic jam until they pulled over to the inside of the walk, so those in more of a hurry—or less burdened—could stream by them. Lots of people had their dogs with them, all respectably leashed. I looked worriedly at Oscar, who was not leashed, ambling along unconcernedly at Cael’s knee, despite the noise and the darting children, and of course the provocation of other dogs.
Which escalated unexpectedly as we crossed Fountain Circle.
First a beagle barked. A shih tzu whirled around and began pulling against its leash. A brown shorthaired dog did the same. A German shepherd gave a puppylike yip, ears on alert. And a poodle started in our direction, dragging its hapless owner behind it.
Cael froze, his hand dropping first to Oscar’s head, then slipping fingers under his collar.
Right, I thought, the downside to being master of hounds. I reached for the land, without any clear idea about how I was going to divert the oncoming wave of dogs, when, abruptly—they just stopped. A few shook their heads as if they’d heard an annoying noise. The beagle and the brown dog stuck their noses in the air, as if questing after a scent. The German shepherd’s ears drooped slightly, and the poodle allowed itself to be called to heel.
Beside me, Cael sighed, very quietly.
“How long can you hold that?” I asked.
“As long as needed, but Oscar will be distressed, that I am diminished.”
“Well, with all these dogs around, maybe we ought to consider getting him a—”
“Hey, buddy!”
A summer cop pulled his bike alongside us, and put out a foot to brace it. He was looking at Cael.
Cael turned to look at the cop.
“Yes?”
“You gotta have that dog on a leash.”
“He is on a leash,” Cael said promptly.
“Don’t get funny. He looks like a nice dog, but you don’t want him to get into an argument with a German shepherd, do you? Or a car? So, obey the rules and put him on a leash.”
“He is on a leash,” Cael repeated, softly. “Look again.”
“I—” The cop leaned forward, then settled back, breathing an embarrassed laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re right, he is leashed. I gotta remember to get my eyes checked. All right, then. Sorry to have bothered you folks.”
“Let us go,” Cael said. “Will Ahz’s Market also have a leash?”
“If not a leash, then a length of rope, for sure.”
* * *
Ahz’s did have leashes on offer; I bought one and took it to Cael, who was waiting outside with Oscar. He snapped it onto Oscar’s collar before hunkering down and draping an arm over the dog’s neck.
I went back inside the market, to take on dog food, and a couple of dog bowls. Breccia hadn’t seemed to mind sharing her water with Oscar, but why tempt fate? By the time I came out again, Cael was reading the community bulletin board on the outside wall, Oscar’s leash held negligently in one hand.
“Any good bake sales coming up?” I asked.
He turned and took the bag from me, tucking it easily into the crook of his arm.
“There is a bake sale coming up on Saturday, July eight,” he told me.
“Missed that one. Today’s Tuesday, July eleventh.”
“I will need to learn the calendar,” Cael said. “And—very many other things.”
“You will, but you’re a quick study.”
“How will I know what I need to learn?”
“Trial and error, I’m guessing. The best thing is to bear in mind that this place isn’t anything like Sempeki. We do a lot by hand and sweat of brow.”
“Because there is little jikinap and few Ozali,” he said, repeating what I’d told him this morning.
“That’s right.”
“Then that is why there is a need for an ‘Animal Control Officer, must have good rapport with a wide range of animals, good communication skills, and task oriented.’ The Houses here do not control their own animals?”
“There aren’t any Houses here,” I said, leaning in to look at the board. “You looking for a job?”
“I would
like to be of use,” he said. “I would like to be of service. You have taken my oath, and this land has also taken my oath.” There was a small pause. “I have been idle, I think, for a very long time.”
“I think so, too.” I tore the ad off the board and tucked it into my pocket. No harm in calling and seeing what they wanted in the way of references and such.
“Let’s go home.”
* * * * *
These waters held happy memories, as beguiling as dreams and might-have-beens.
She recalled her first waking in the palace of living coral, astonishment and delight filling her heart. She rose naked from her couch, and looked out over the gardens, the kelp waving in the currents, and schools of fishes, dainty and bright as flowers, dancing among the moving fronds.
A pale green cephalopod had entered her chamber while her attention was thus engaged, and drew her away to dress her in the blue and green and white robes of her office, to braid her hair with coral and shell, and lead her to the main hall.
There she had first met them, her demons. In dream-memory, she loved them at once, but she remembered, in some portion of her mind uncaught by the pool’s enchantment, that she had in truth been a little afraid of them, upon that first meeting.
That had been before she fully knew what had befallen her; that the sea she had defied for the love of her brothers and father—that the sea had taken her and created from her a goddess.
It had been a savage sea: its love won by boldness and cruelty, or by acts of doomed courage. She remembered the sea’s savagery, how it had borne her along; how she had delighted in smashing and destroying.
She remembered, also, the day she had risen atop the waves to smite a fishing boat, anticipating the heady pleasure that would come from its destruction. She raised her hand…
…and one of the boys in the boat raised his eyes.
…raised his eyes, saw her…
…and did not look away.
For a long time, they contemplated each other, the goddess and the doomed boy. An eternity, perhaps, though such things matter not to a goddess—before she lowered her hands, and calmed the waves, commanding the currents to bear the little boat to its home port, only sinking below the waters herself when she had seen them safe on the rocky landing, with wives and sisters throwing themselves upon their necks with loud cries of joy.
From that moment forward, she had resisted the sea’s baser nature, and over time it became—not gentle, never sweet, like the Borgan’s noble waters, but…less thirsty for blood and desirous of mayhem.
And her demons, she came to love them, and they her. She took them both to her bed, for was she not a goddess? They were fearsome, but to her they became beautiful, and if she loved the ebon demon for his laugh, did she not love the white demon equally well, for his skill upon the harp?
But, hold! Did she not hear the white demon’s harp? Notes rose from the deeps to bear her up in these new waters, while the arms of the ebon demon came ’round her waist.
She sighed, and surrendered herself to their skill and her desires, their ardor warming even these frigid waters.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tuesday, July 11
Low Tide 5:43 P.M. EDT
I cruised past The Last Mango on my way to the carousel. Peggy and Ethrane were each riding a smoothie-making machine, and the air was fragrant with the scent of oranges and papaya and banana. I waved without much hope of being seen over the crowd, and moved on.
Once past the crowd at the Mango, traffic on the midway seemed light. Well, it was another hot one, and the beach beckoned.
A second wave at Felsic, who was leaning on the front counter of the baseball pitch, apparently watching the empty midway, earned me a casual come-on-over. I obliged.
“Afternoon, Felsic.”
“Kate. Just thought I’d ask after Cael, and if there’s anything we can do to help him find his feet.”
“I think he’s doing all right, though it turns out that master of hounds is a lot more complicated than I’d thought, at first.”
“That a fact?” Felsic’s lips twitched suspiciously.
“Think I’d learn, right? Just this morning, he laid a curse and a blessing, and took the oath of a dog named Oscar. Oh, and he’s thinking about applying with the town for Animal Control Officer.”
Felsic considered that briefly.
“Need papers to apply with the town.”
“Right. Artie brought ’em down this morning.”
“That’s fast.”
“Come in express, Artie said.”
Another brief pause.
“Didn’t know Artie did express,” Felsic said carefully.
“Neither did he. Back to Cael: I don’t know his habits, if he’s solitary or wants people around him.”
“Wolf, that could go both ways. Tell him, if he wants it, we got some who’re eager to make his acquaintance. Been talk about having a welcome party—trenvay don’t arise every day, after all—but I’m not seeing that ’til the Season gets done.”
“At which point nobody’ll feel like partying,” I said gloomily.
Felsic shrugged.
“Could be so, could be no. Might be worthwhile to party for the good times that were, and the rising of a new one, which is a promise of good things to come.”
“You need to write poetry, Felsic; I mean that.”
“Might try my hand, over the winter. What’re the chances of that deal with the town going through?”
I followed the transition without any trouble, but couldn’t do anything other than shrug.
“I put it at forty percent, with the Chamber’s support behind it. The town doesn’t have the kind of money Fun Country’s asking for the land.”
“Peggy says that towns have better opportunities to raise money,” Felsic said. “A bond issue, or applying to the state or federal governments for an assist. ’Specially, if they’re applying to preserve a historic area or to promote economic growth.” Felsic made owl eyes. “Understand, she was on a tear by then, and I don’t think I took it all in. Still, though, Kate, it seemed she was calling above evens.”
“I’m the first to admit that Peggy knows more about this stuff than I do. So, what I’m going to do is remain cautiously pessimistic and hope she’s right.” I straightened. “Time for Vassily to get his supper,” I said. “I’ll pass your message to Cael.”
“’Preciate it. See you later, Kate.”
Fountain Circle was as thin of company as the midway, and Baxter Avenue wasn’t looking much fatter.
There were five people in line at Tony Lee’s for a late dinner or an early supper, and a kid in purple shorts at the lobster toss, pitching rubber crustaceans like they were softballs. Summer’s Wheel was running, but the gondolas were empty; no line at the Oriental Funhouse, but I heard faint screams and howls of laughter from inside.
No line for the carousel, either; it sat motionless, the animals probably sweating under the storm roof. I spared a brief moment of regret for the Wise One’s frosty flowers as I walked up to the operator’s station.
Gran was sitting on the stool; Vassily had a hip braced against the safety rail, his face turned toward hers, hands moving with animation.
“Afternoon,” I said, ducking under the rail. “Sorry I’m late, Vassily.”
“Good afternoon, Kate Archer. I have not noticed the time as I listened to your grandmother.” He turned a beatific smile on me. “I thought you would not mind, if I talked with her while I was working.”
“I don’t, but that’s only because she’d make sure you did work, if there were customers coming in. She taught me how to operate this ride; she tell you that?”
“She did! She said you were—”
Gran cleared her throat, Vassily shot a dancing glance in her direction, and looked back to me.
“She said you were clever, and learned, so very quickly.”
“I just bet she did say that. Since you’re not paying attention to time, I’ll let
you know that your shift’s done, and Anna’s ready to serve up your supper.”
“Yes. Good night, Kate Archer. Thanking you.” He came out of his lean, took Gran’s hand, raised it and kissed her knuckles. “Good night, Babushka. Thanking you.”
He vaulted over the rail and walked toward Baxter Avenue, whistling.
“I don’t think I’ve heard him do that before,” I commented, looking back to Gran. “You made a conquest.”
“He’s a nice boy,” Gran said comfortably.
In point of fact, Vassily was not a nice boy—at least, he’d done things most “nice boys” didn’t, but there was no real reason to share that with Gran, who probably used a whole different measuring stick for “nice,” anyway.
“He’s got a proper feeling for the carousel and the animals,” I said, spinning around on a heel. “Been this busy all day?”
“There was a line when I got here, about two, but it’s thinned out since. It’s really too warm to walk around on tarmac, even with the breeze. Things’ll pick up this evening.”
“Just my luck.” I sighed and lifted myself to the top rung of the safety rail, more or less where Vassily had been leaning. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Nostalgia?”
“Partly, yes. I wanted to see the carousel, and…I thought you’d like an explanation.”
“I’m always in favor of an explanation,” I said. “Do you want to tour the carousel first, or has Vassily done the honors?”
“I told him I wanted to wait for you. He understood completely. We talked about the Ukraine and what he found different here. I may have told him a few stories about you.”
“I hope he laughed in the right places.” I slid to my feet. “You won’t notice much different. I think. Except for the batwing being gone. I—well, you’ll see.”
I opened the gate and swept my hand out.
“After you.”
* * *
It was a slow walk around the wheel, Gran wanted to touch every animal, and when she came to the unicorn, which had, the last time she’d seen it, held an imprisoned soul, she paused, and put both hands on its gilt saddle.
“If the Wise are going to discover what Aesgyr’s done in another few weeks, no matter what,” she said slowly, “do you think this subterfuge is necessary?”