by Davis Ashura
“You look good in them,” Rukh said. “I'm sure Sign will approve.”
Jaresh gave his brother a sardonic expression. “I keep telling you she's just a friend. Nothing more,” he repeated. “And with everything going on right now, romance is the last thing on either of our minds.”
“With everything going on right now, maybe romance should be on your minds,” Rukh countered. “We just had to look over the scene of the latest Withering Knife murder. The Queen and Her Chims should be here any day, so I say you should find happiness whenever you can because you might not have another chance in the days to come.”
“Point taken,” Jaresh said. “And in the vein of someone who should take his own advice, what do you plan on doing to find happiness?”
Rukh rose to his feet. “I promised to take Jessira out to a play.”
Jaresh tilted his head in puzzlement. “How will the two of you leave the House Seat unrecognized.”
Rukh gave a crooked grin. “My false beard and her wig,” he answered. “And we'll be leaving with a group of servants. None of my faithful followers will recognize us.”
Jaresh laughed, happy to see Rukh smiling again. After the Advent Trial, he'd been so downcast and edgy. It was good to see him coming to terms with his situation and accepting it. “Then good luck with your plan,” he said.
“Scheme,” Rukh corrected, striking a portentous posture.
“Scheme?”
“It sounds sneakier that way.”
“Scheme, then,” Jaresh agreed.
“You look nice,” Jaresh said when Sign opened the door to her flat. “Is the dress new?”
Sign lifted her arms from her side, giving a better view of the sleeveless dress she was wearing. “It's your sister's. She's letting me borrow it.”
“Well you look good in it.”
Sign grinned. “Thank you. And you look nice as well. I like those pants.”
Jaresh smiled, glad he had taken his brother's advice.
“Let me put on some sandals, and I'll be ready to go.”
When Sign turned aside, Jaresh caught a glimpse of a tattoo on her upper arm. It was a ferocious, black cat with webbed batwings tipped in trailing golden light. Tattoos were rare in Ashoka, and Jaresh took a moment to study Sign's. He decided that the mix of a fierce cat and the wingtips fit her.
“I like your tattoo,” he said.
Sign straightened with a smile. “Thank you. I got it when I became a scout,” she said. “Are you ready?”
Jaresh nodded and led them north, toward Mount Crone. The area where most of the OutCastes lived had come a long way. The buildings were still ugly, unadorned cubes with flat roofs and narrow windows, but the grounds surrounding them were lush with fresh plantings and flowers. In addition, new pathways of colored rocks had been laid in patterns that mimicked water curling around boulders. Several small gazebos with young ivy trailing through trellises were present as well, and the area would be lovely in a couple of years.
If they lived that long, Jaresh thought morosely.
“Where are we going?” Sign asked.
“A place Rector showed me,” Jaresh said. “It's in Trell Rue, which isn't too far away, but we can hire a rickshaw if you prefer.”
“I'd rather walk.” Sign gave him a sidelong glance. “Unless you can't keep up.”
Jaresh chuckled. “Ask me that when it's time to walk home.”
It was an hour's journey to Trell Rue and the restaurant in question. The crowds were thick at twilight and slowed them, but eventually, they reached their destination. The restaurant was housed in a building made of red brick, and the heat from the roaring fireplace within drove them outside to a table on the patio. Even there the air was heavy with the scent of spiced noodles, dahl, grilled meat, and parathas.
“What do you recommend?” Sign asked.
“It's traditional Duriah fare, so it's a little heavy,” Jaresh said. “I'd try the sambar with lamb and a lassi.”
Sign took his advice, but also had an order of bhaji and naan to go with her sambar.
Jaresh didn't say anything, but he couldn't imagine she would be able to eat all the food she had ordered.
He was wrong. While they spoke about Sign's life in Stronghold, her impressions of Ashoka, and the training she was undergoing in order to join the High Army, Sign polished off her bhajis. The sambar arrived, and the discussion turned to the health of Jaresh's amma, the Withering Knife murder, and rumors of war. All the while, Sign steadily ate while they spoke, although Jaresh did notice that she was finally slowing down.
“You don't have to eat it all now,” he said. “I brought a small pot”— he held up a small, spidergrass container—”for any food we can't finish.”
“Thank you,” Sign said with a shake of negation. “But right now, this has become a battle between me and the food. I won't let it win.”
Jaresh chuckled in bemusement. “As you wish,” he said. “I just hope you still feel that way later tonight when your stomach is aching.”
Minutes later, Sign finished her meal with an unhappy groan. She pushed her plate away and fell back in her chair. “I think I ate too much,” she moaned.
“Really? I would have never guessed.”
“Shut up.”
Jaresh tried—and failed—not to grin at her misery. “I warned you,” he said, knowing his words would earn him another glare. “By the way, do you want that rickshaw now?”
Sign surprised him by offering him a smile. “I'll take the rickshaw, but only if it drops us off at that chocolatier we passed on the way here.”
Jaresh chuckled. “You're incorrigible.”
Sign shrugged. “I don't know what incorrigible means, but if it means I won't let food defeat me, than I suppose I am.”
Rukh wheeled Amma out to her favorite spot in the gardens. It was also his. A copse of trees cupped the space in a leafy embrace and provided a place of seclusion and shelter. A stone bench rested at the edge of a tall drop-off and from it, Rukh could see the aquamarine Sickle Sea. He could almost imagine the cries of the faraway flocks of seagulls squawking for food.
“Right here is fine,” Amma whispered in the soft rasp which was all that was left of her voice.
Rukh brought her wheeled chair to a halt and took a seat on the bench.
“I've always loved watching the birds soar,” Amma said with a fond smile. “So few worries in their bright lives.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Rukh said with an answering smile.
“The Book of All Souls claims that when we are joined with Devesh, we soar higher than the stars.” Amma's voice was wistful.
“I didn't know you'd read that book.”
“I've read lots of books,” Amma replied with a chuckle. “But that particular book is one that your nanna insisted I study when we first married. Over the years, it has brought me a surprising amount of comfort.”
Rukh smiled. “Jessira is the same way. She keeps asking me to read it as well.”
“I take it you haven't?”
“With everything that's happened, there just hasn't been any time.”
“Time washes away all wants,” Amma said, her expression faraway.
“Is that a quote?”
“It's from The Book of All Souls,” Amma said, gracing him with a wry smile. A moment later her smile fell away. “Has there been any word on Hal'El's whereabouts?”
“None,” Rukh said with a shake of his head.
“He'll turn up,” Amma said. “Vermin always do at the least opportune time.” Her blanket slipped from her shoulders, and she pulled it back up, irritably waving off Rukh's offer to help. “I'm an invalid, but I'm not useless. I still have my mind. I can still serve.”
Rukh sensed the effort it took for her to get the words out as well as the effort it took for her to infuse those words with a confidence she likely didn't believe. The knowledge had him blinking back tears. It was hard seeing her like this, so broken and weak. He wanted to help
her, but he was powerless to do so.
Having nothing else to offer her, he brushed aside a stray lock of her hair and kissed her cheek.
Amma sighed in discontent. “Don't let my frailty fool you,” she said in a waspish tone. “I live and I love. My spirit is still strong. Yours should be as well. It has to be, given what's to come, and what you did at the Advent Trial.”
Rukh wasn't sure why Amma was bringing up such a conversation now. She needed to rest. That's why he'd brought her out here—not to discuss Hal'El Wrestiva or what Rukh might need to do in the future.
Amma froze him with a glare. “I've been injured, but I meant what I said: I can still serve,” she rasped. “Don't pity me. I won't see it from my family. I can still have a purpose, but if you and everyone else insist on taking it away from me, then what reason would I have to live?” she asked. “I need you to talk to me as you did before all this happened.” She gestured to her blanket-wrapped body.
Rukh nodded in understanding. Amma had been hurt. She knew it. She'd never again be the woman she had once been. But it didn't mean she was incapable or useless, which Rukh realized is how he had been treating her since her injury. He reddened in shame.
Amma stroked his hair, and he reached for her hand, bending over and kissing it. “I'm sorry,” he said.
“No apologies are needed,” she whispered, stroking his hair once more. “Now, answer my question. Have you truly considered what your actions from the Advent Trial mean?”
This was a question that Rukh had heard posed many times before and from many different sources, and it still made him uneasy.
“You can't hide from what you did, Rukh,” Amma said, likely reading the expression on his face. “What you did was special, and there are gifts you've been given that you have to accept.”
“I have accepted them,” Rukh said. “But accepting them isn't the same as embracing them, especially when I can't even remember what I did.”
“The memory will return,” Amma said, sounding certain. “But what of the tasks such gifts imply you are meant to accomplish?”
“I don't know,” Rukh said. “I'm a warrior. I always thought duty alone would carry me through my life, but this requires something more.”
“And what does it require?”
Rukh wore an appreciative smile as he glanced at Amma. “I know what you're doing.”
“And what am I doing?” Amma asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
Rukh grinned. “What you're doing now. You're questioning me, making me come up with the correct answers on my own. It's how you always taught us.”
“So you remembered,” Amma said with a warm chuckle that was ruined a moment later by a fit of coughing. She waved Rukh off. “I'm fine,” she declared. “Now, answer my question. What will carry you through your life?”
Rukh didn't hesitate. “Hope that what I do is in keeping with dharma. And faith that what I do will earn a better life in the next world.”
“And what else?” Amma asked.
Rukh's brows creased as he considered Amma's question. What else was there?
His thoughts cleared a moment later, and he smiled. The answer was love. All along love had been the true reason for his actions. Duty and dharma were important, but his truest motivation had always been love. Love for Jessira, for his family, for his city. “Love,” Rukh answered.
A pleased expression broke across Amma's face. “In this world, the only true eternals are love and innocence,” she quoted.
“And hope and faith will guide you to them,” Rukh said, finishing the quote. He smiled. “Jessira loves that saying.”
“It is a good saying,” Amma said. She closed her eyes and held her face up to the sun as she slept.
Jessira sighed impatience as members of the House Council argued over how the House should address the question of the Baels and Tigons. They'd been at it for hours, or at least it felt that way. In reality, it had only been about ten minutes, but for Jessira, the question had an obvious answer: the House should support the Baels and Tigons. Why was it so hard to understand? Especially when there were so many other issues to discuss—issues such as Hal'El Wrestiva's whereabouts or the coming attack by Suwraith and Her Plagues.
Had Rukh's Amma been present, perhaps the decision would already have been made. Unfortunately, she was resting and wasn't expected to make it to today's meeting. Therefore, as it stood, the Council was deadlocked. Janos Terrell and Rukh's Nanna were in favor of adding the House's support to those who believed the Chimeras should be allowed to stay, while Durmer Volk and Teerma Shole, the oldest and newest members of the Council, argued against such a plan.
“We've already stretched out our necks for enough issues others think of as sacrilegious,” Durmer said. “Supporting the Chimeras is pointless. It will accomplish nothing but harden hearts against any other advice we might offer.”
“I agree,” Teerma said. “Enough people are already troubled or even outraged by the changes we've wrought in the past few years. If we support these Baels and Tigons, those feelings will simply change to enmity.” She glanced around the room. “And the question has to be asked: what do we truly owe these Chimeras anyway?”
Jessira had heard enough. “We owe them my life. Without them, no OutCaste would have survived Stronghold's destruction.” She stared a challenge at Durmer and Teerma. “The same holds true for Rukh, Jaresh, Farn, and every Ashokan who journeyed to Stronghold. They would all be dead right now if not for the risks taken by Li-Choke and Chak-Soon.” Jessira rapped her knuckles on the coffee table. “I think that's plenty owed,” she added before settling back into the couch.
Rukh and Bree, also seated on the couch, gave her tight-lipped nods of approval.
“Our House owes these Chimeras a debt. We can't simply wave it away,” Janos said in a clear voice.
“Why not?” Durmer grumbled loudly.
The door to the study opened. “Because our House has honor,” Rukh's amma rasped into the surprised silence as Jaresh wheeled her inside. “I apologize for my tardiness.”
Jessira breathed a sigh of relief. Now maybe this topic could be put to rest . . . with the Council coming to the correct decision, of course.
Rukh's nanna smiled broadly upon seeing his wife. “No need to apologize,” he said. “And based on your pronouncement, I take it you are in favor of throwing support to the Chimeras?”
“You would be correct,” Satha replied. “We owe them too much, not least of which are the lives of our sons and nephew.”
“A point already raised by Jessira,” Dar'El said.
“Then why are you still arguing about this?” Satha asked.
“Fear,” Rukh said. “No one wants to see the House harmed because we chose to support the Chimeras. I think it's too late for that concern, though. Given how everyone knows of my history with Li-Choke and Chak-Soon, I imagine House Shektan is already linked with the Chimeras in the eyes of most people.”
Durmer appeared troubled. “I hadn't considered that,” he said.
“Then you think we should support the Chimeras?” Janos pressed the older Kumma.
“I won't go that far, but . . .” Durmer sighed. “Like Rukh said, it may already be too late to salvage the situation. The Baels and Tigons are already within Ashoka's Walls, and as Rukh rightly pointed out, with his connection to Choke and Soon, we will likely be blamed for the matter.”
“It looks like I'm the last holdout,” Teerma muttered. “I still vote against supporting the Chimeras.”
“Your vote doesn't matter,” Dar'El said. “The Council offers advice, but the ultimate authority rests with me.” He glanced around the room. “We'll support the Chimeras.”
Durmer groaned. “I knew you'd say that,” he complained.
“The next question is who should stand as our advocate before the Magisterium?” Janos asked.
“I can do it,” Bree offered.
“It can't be you,” Rukh said to Bree. “You've already spent your credit w
hen you argued on behalf of the OutCastes. The last thing we need is more people angry at you.” He winked at his sister. “Though it's easy to understand why they might feel that way.”
Bree gave Rukh a playful poke in the ribs as everyone chuckled.
“I think the voice speaking on our behalf should be someone of the highest reputation,” Jaresh said. “Someone respected and loved by all.” He stared at Rukh the entire time. “Even worshipped by some.”
Jessira held back a smile as Rukh groaned.
“A wonderful idea,” Durmer said, sounding pleased.
“I thought you were opposed to letting the Chimeras stay,” Jaresh said.
“I am,” Durmer replied. “But more than that, I can't abide our House losing.” He gestured to Rukh. “By sending our holiest member to argue on our behalf, the Magisterium won't have any choice but to rule in our favor.” Though he tried to hide it, deep respect for Rukh was obvious in the older man's tone.
Dar'El's lips twitched. “Why, at this moment, do I remember my son playing with mud pies as a child?”
After the council meeting ended, Nanna asked Bree, her brothers, and Jessira to remain behind. Amma was there as well.
Nanna seemed to study their faces, and Bree got the sense that he was trying to freeze this moment in his memory for all time. A faint smile creased his face, and his eyes appeared touched with longing. “Our family has suffered much turmoil in these past two years,” he began. “We've lost many we loved. Sophy Terrell. Mira.” He briefly held Jaresh's gaze, who nodded acknowledgement. “And Garnet Bosde, though he still lives, is no longer with us. Bree and Jaresh were attacked, and we almost lost her.” He looked at Rukh. “We thought we lost you as well when you were exiled, but somehow you came back to us.” He smiled more broadly. “And brought home to us a wonderful daughter.” He looked to Jessira.
Bree eyed her nanna in uncertainty. “Why are you telling us this?”
Nanna paced away from his desk and moved to stand behind Amma. He put one hand on Jaresh's shoulder and with the other he gently stroked Amma's hair. “Life is a mystery. Who can tell how many more moments we'll have together as a family? Who knows what the future will bring?” he asked, gazing at the top of Amma's head. “Hal'El Wrestiva has returned to Ashoka. He will want revenge on us. And war is coming—Suwraith is coming.”