Beyond the Pool of Stars

by Howard Andrew Jones

  The dark green head turned to regard her directly. “My blade is sheathed. I do not offer battle posture. My frill is down. I do not signal danger.”

  “I don’t know what your stance means, or when you might threaten me again. My people explain their actions so there will be no misunderstandings.”

  Its tongue flicked out, and she saw it was forked. “That has not been my experience.”

  “That’s fair enough,” she admitted. “The honorable among my people practice such methods. I want trust between us.”

  “If you wish trust between the two of us,” the sentry said, “your wait will be long.”

  “You tell me you don’t plan to attack, but say I cannot trust you.”

  It growled deep in his throat. “You wish to pretend hatchling ignorance? I will give clarity. You are welcome upon our land. You will be offered no hostility unless you present it. My brother, records keeper of my people, will speak to you. And then you will leave. At no time before or after will I attack. Unless you give me a reason.”

  She’d expected any number of challenges today, up to and including pursuit by Chelish spies, or the absence of the lizardfolk. She’d never thought she’d have to try to win over an antagonistic sentry.

  “What is your name, warrior?”

  “I am Jekka Eran Sulotai sar Karshnaar.”

  “Your Taldane is excellent.”

  It seemed uninterested in the compliment. “An elder nest mate taught us your speech. She thought it would aid our dealing with humans.”

  “Has it?”

  “It showed me your words were as untrustworthy as your actions.”

  “Do not,” a new voice interjected from farther down the trail, “give heed to my brother Jekka.”

  Another of the lizardfolk stepped out of the trees, one with a longer snout, though the creature was shorter in stature. It wore a beige robe with the hood thrown back. At its waist was a belt adorned with the same turquoise stones the others used to support their loincloths. It raised a long-fingered hand. “I welcome you to our lands, daughter of Leovan Raas. I am Heltan. Do you speak for your tribe?”

  Mirian thought for a moment. Did “tribe” mean her family or her nation? “I speak for my family.”

  Heltan’s head moved back and forth, rapidly. “Do you revive the agreement I made with your Leovan?”

  “That is what I mean to do.”

  Kalina came up behind Heltan and stood at its shoulder.

  “That is fine!” The lizardfolk sounded truly pleased. “How soon do you wish to leave?”

  After the difficulties with Jekka the sentry, Mirian hadn’t expected the rest of the negotiations to be so simple. “As soon as possible,” she said. “It may take a few days to ready the ship, however.”

  “We may sleep in your courtyard, as before?” Mirian considered her answer for only a moment. “Yes.” Mother hadn’t mentioned that particular arrangement. Likely the lizardfolk wouldn’t have felt safe in the beds her father would have offered, and they wouldn’t have been welcome anywhere else inside the city. “Just so I’m clear on the agreement, we’re to help you find your city, and then you’re to give our family the jewels of your people?”

  “We have little need of them,” Heltan replied.

  “We value other things,” Jekka added.

  All to the better. “Well then, when shall I expect you at my homestead?”

  “We can leave as soon as Jekka gathers his gear,” Heltan said.

  So the angry one was coming as well. Mirian looked over to him. “Did you come last time?”

  “I was there. I am chief warrior,” he added, as though the matter were obvious.

  How safe was her mother with Jekka around? She looked to the other lizardfolk for reassurance, found their expressions inscrutable, save that Heltan all but shook with excitement.

  “I guess you’d best grab your gear,” she said to Jekka. As he wandered down the trail she asked Heltan, “Will he be a problem?”

  “Jekka is brave,” Heltan said.

  “He seems angry.”

  “He is disappointed.” Heltan’s head tilted first left and then right. “I do not know the words to explain. But now it will be better.”

  “Do not worry, daughter of the Leovan,” Kalina told her. “If he does not know your ways, you can teach him.”

  Somehow Mirian doubted working with Jekka would be that simple.

  8

  Off to the Shining Sea

  Ivrian

  As I scanned the faces of the lizardfolk, I wondered at their seeming. I knew with dread certainty that beneath that placid façade lurked a volcano of primitive savagery and violence, one ready to destroy any who aroused the fires of the ancient hate that burned beneath.

  —From The Daughter of the Mist

  There was no warning. His mother simply appeared in his doorway that evening and said, “It’s time.”

  Ivrian pretended calm as he laid down the pen. He considered the paper where he’d been scribbling possible titles for the epic he’d write, then rose and straightened his shirt.

  In the five days since their return from the ill-fated salvage expedition, Ivrian had learned everything possible about the Raas family, particularly Mirian. Half native or not, she would make for the ideal heroine to feature in a new series of leaflets. She was good-looking, and if he sank some money into the booklets to hire a good artist, she’d be gorgeous, which always drew in the male readership, especially if there were another picture or two of her on the inner pages.

  He was so certain the leaflets would sell that he was even considering the use of his real name on the byline. Stories about a sexy salvager might have appeal beyond the colony. What he wouldn’t give to have them gathered into some kind of book, like those of the great Ailson Kindler, mistress of adventure. Her novels of brave heroes battling terrible horrors were in demand throughout the Inner Sea, one of those rare instances where a popular writer was also one of the best, and he’d long dreamed of following in her footsteps. Just as Ailson had based many of her tales around her own exploits, he planned to base his around those of Mirian Raas—provided he could get her to open up about said exploits. He could write an entire series with her as the star. He’d cut her in for a percentage, of course, and he was still debating how much he should suggest as he glanced out the window at the estate’s wide courtyard. The sun had dropped behind the outer wall, but its lingering glow painted the clouds with amber and gold.

  Ivrian had moved to the city’s center to dwell in the heart of the small theater district. When his mother had told him they’d have to depart at a moment’s notice, Ivrian hadn’t understood at first that it meant he’d have to abandon his quarters downtown. Spies, Mother had explained, might be watching their every move.

  True or not, the notion that he might be the subject of espionage appealed to Ivrian’s sense of the dramatic. Besides, his old rooms at the estate were far more spacious, and Cook babied him with his favorite dishes and desserts every night.

  He remained fully cognizant of his mother’s hope that he’d follow her footsteps as a government troubleshooter, not to mention the inevitable family duties. Despite that, he’d actually enjoyed his mother’s company in the last few days as they hosted a steady stream of specialists including tailors, bootmakers, and even wizards to outfit them for the adventure that lay ahead.

  Ivrian grabbed a pack made from waterproof sealskin identical to the one his mother was already shouldering. Their traveling gear had been moved to Mirian’s ship days ago so that when the Galanors left home they’d carry no luggage. They’d ridden out several times together in the last few days, hoping to lull any watchers into a false sense of security. If their watchers thought the Galanors were simply out for another jaunt, they might not pay close enough attention until it was too late.

  “Coming?” his mother shouted.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  He caught up to her on the central stairs. Together they hurried outside, d
own the stone steps, and past the carefully squared shrubberies to board the closed carriage.

  The vehicle rolled forward as soon as his mother knocked on the panel behind the driver.

  With the curtains closed, his mother, sitting across from him, was little more than a dark suggestion of herself, but there was no mistaking the excitement in her voice. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Very much so,” Ivrian said.

  She laughed.

  Ivrian felt a little guilty. His mother seemed certain that this expedition was going to change the direction of Ivrian’s life. “Mother.” He cleared his throat. “I want you to know how much I appreciate this. All of this exposure will make wonderful background for my writing.”

  “I thought you’d say that.” His mother sounded pleased.

  “I’m still not interested in working with the government. Permanently, I mean.” He didn’t add that he also had no intention of marrying or carrying on the family name or any of that. His mother surely knew his feelings on those subjects hadn’t changed. He’d been perfectly clear about it before he moved out.

  She was so silent that Ivrian was afraid he’d hurt her feelings.

  “Son,” Alderra said at last, “it’s just a pleasure to be spending time with you.”

  That made him feel even worse, and he couldn’t decide if she was still playing master manipulator or if she really meant what she was saying. Fortunately, another line of conversation presented itself.

  “We’re going north,” Ivrian noted.

  His mother sounded faintly amused. “Yes.”

  “The Daughter is berthed to the south.”

  “We’re not sailing on the Daughter.”

  Ivrian was puzzled for only a moment. “We are still sailing, aren’t we?”

  “Yes.” His mother drew out the word as though hoping to lead Ivrian to a conclusion.

  “You think the Daughter is being watched.”

  “I can almost guarantee it.” Alderra Galanor sounded a little smug. “And any of them would have noted a surreptitious effort to load the ship with foodstuffs and gear over the last week, and careful tending of the vessel itself. I’d hoped they’d assume we thought we were being clever.”

  The carriage came to a halt along the north quays. Alderra must have paid in advance, for the carriage left the moment the two climbed down.

  The sun had finished its low fade below the horizon during their journey. Now there was only a dim line of light in the west.

  The tall masts of ships stood black against the lighter darkness of the night sky and the wealth of stars. Waves lapped against the old stone pylons that held up the wharf as they started down its length.

  Lights burned here and there along the ships creaking at their anchors, for there were sailors keeping watch aboard.

  Alderra made immediately for a two-master. Ivrian followed her up the gangplank.

  Waiting with a directional lantern was none other than burly Captain Rendak. He flashed the light toward but not at them, presumably so they wouldn’t be blinded.

  “M’lady.” Rendak bobbed his head slightly.

  “Is everyone aboard?” Ivrian’s mother asked.

  “Everyone but Mirian and the guides.”

  Ivrian’s gaze swept over the ship and saw it was not as abandoned as he’d assumed. It might have looked silent and empty as the other ships, but it was peopled with men and women who sat against the rail or stretched out along the planks.

  One lean fellow came strutting across the weather deck and stopped before them, a brimmed hat cocked rakishly over his head. He swept it off with a formal bow.

  “Lady Galanor,” he whispered.

  Alderra swept a hand to her son. “Ivrian, this is Captain Akimba of the Red Leopard. He comes highly recommended.”

  “A pleasure,” Ivrian said.

  “The pleasure is mine,” the dim shape whispered. Ivrian had little sense of the fellow save that he had a broad native accent and wore a calf-length coat. Ivrian envied him that choice, for the wind off the water was chill.

  “Although,” Akimba said, “I’d naturally feel a little better if I knew precisely where we were headed.”

  “Ah,” Alderra Galanor said mischievously. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  Akimba grunted noncommittally. “Do you wish to be shown your quarters?”

  “I think we’ll wait here. Thank you.”

  Akimba replaced his hat and stepped over to Rendak.

  Ivrian leaned close to his mother’s ear. “Why aren’t we taking a government ship?”

  “They’re spread thin as is. The government can’t afford to have a navy ship wait offshore for a week or more. So I’ve hired the Red Leopard. It’s swift, and Mirian thinks highly of her captain’s judgment. We should be able to outrun any ship afloat, especially with as little cargo as we’re carrying.”

  There was a clatter of wheels along the road. Ivrian turned as he felt Captain Akimba and Rendak tense. A few of the sailors muttered among themselves, and a stern voice from near the wheelhouse ordered them to shut their damn mouths. He recognized the voice as belonging to Chilton, the handsome sailor who’d become a steady presence in the household the last few days.

  A covered carriage rolled into view, passing a final row of taverns and warehouses before rolling to a stop at the end of their quay. The paneled door opened, and a slim figure dropped to the ground. Though she was garbed in an ankle-length coat, her hair hidden by a tricorne hat, there was no mistaking the wide-hipped figure for a man. Behind her came a man similarly garbed, and Ivrian heard a whispered discussion between them, though he could make out no words.

  “Who’s that fellow with Mirian?” he asked.

  “Kellic Raas, I expect.” His mother didn’t sound pleased.

  Ivrian was about to ask where their guides were when three more figures slipped out of the carriage. Each wore a hooded robe. One carried a strange axe with a very long blade, and another held a staff.

  Ivrian’s attention was momentarily diverted by a sudden expostulation from Kellic, who’d drawn up beside Mirian. He was gesticulating in protest as they reached the end of the gangway. Ivrian smirked. So Kellic didn’t approve of the ship.

  And then Ivrian’s eye traveled back to the three robed figures and he saw for the first time that something trailed along the ground in back of their robes. Were those tails? His hair rose along the back of his neck.

  “What are those things?”

  “Lizardfolk,” his mother answered quietly, then moved forward to join Akimba and Rendak as Mirian climbed the gangplank to the ship.

  Ivrian lingered just behind so that he might overhear. Mirian kept her hat brim low and brusquely returned their greetings, verifying with Rendak that the team and gear were aboard and stowed, and with Akimba that the ship was ready.

  Ivrian watched Kellic. Mirian’s brother removed his hat and stood frowning, his gaze taking in the ship as if he disliked every single thing he saw. He’d sour his looks if he kept up that attitude. What was he so angry about?

  Akimba cleared his throat as Mirian and her brother made way for the three robed figures, and Ivrian heard not just mutters but entire conversations, curses, and whispered prayers as sailors caught sight of them. More than one voice could be heard talking about “frillbacks” and how they were bad luck or untrustworthy.

  “Belay that!” Akimba snapped. A dark figure moved out from the wheelhouse to mouth warnings to the little clusters of crew. Chilton. Now the sailor’s presence in the house as a “maritime advisor” seemed far less a pretense for his mother to spend quality time with a good-looking younger man. He must have been the go-between for finalizing arrangements like this.

  Ivrian’s attention was quickly pulled back to the nearer figures. “It’s time to set sail,” Mirian told the captain.

  “I’m at your service.” Akimba bowed his head. “But I lack a course. Or destination.”

  “North by northwest for now. Once we’re
out of the harbor we can talk at length.”

  Akimba’s posture stiffened, but he nodded acknowledgment. “As soon as we’re under way, I expect to see you in the cabin.”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  Akimba turned and began calling orders in a stage whisper. Instantly his men were up and moving, some scattering across the deck, some scampering up the lines.

  Mirian waved the lizardfolk closer, but they remained rooted to the spot. Two sailors stepped widely around them before hauling in the gangplank.

  Mirian said, “Step forward, you three. I’d like to introduce you.”

  Ivrian paid a little too much attention to the lizardfolk’s movements and their look for their strange, savage names to sink in. The only one he remembered was Kalina. There was something ominous about the one with the staff.

  The one without a weapon proved the most talkative, and civilized, for he bowed his head to Ivrian’s mother in a birdlike motion. As he moved, Ivrian caught a glimpse of wide-set eyes behind a lipless, muzzle-like mouth.

  “We’d best clear the deck,” Mirian said. “Rendak, why don’t you show everyone below?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m not going below,” Kellic said crossly.

  “Follow me, if you wish,” Rendak said with a sweeping arm gesture. He led the way aft toward a door beside the stairs to the quarterdeck. Beyond it was a gangway, more ladder than stairs.

  Ivrian’s mother was the first behind him, and Ivrian after, which meant that the most savage-seeming of the lizardfolk, the one with the staff, came immediately behind.

  But Alderra Galanor seemed not at all troubled. She said, conversationally: “We really won’t be aboard very long. There’s just one overnight.”

  “The site’s that close?” Ivrian asked.

  “That close.”

  Beyond the short gangway was a warren of narrow doors. Rendak indicated one, immediately on the left. “There you are, Lady. And, uh, Lord. The rest of you, follow me.”

  Ivrian wouldn’t technically be a lord until, Shelyn forbid, his mother’s death, but he didn’t correct Rendak.

  Ivrian watched the salvager lead the lizardfolk into the darkness and wondered whether Rendak was still to be addressed as “captain.” Probably not, given that Akimba commanded the ship and Mirian seemed in charge of the salvagers.