Poor World

by Sherwood Smith

  Attak Weds. We all got jobs and bad ones they are, holey terrers. What plan? Gwen, Faline, Sherry

  I suspected a typical Faline ‘pun’ in holey terrers — as in making holes in people. It didn’t make me smile. Instead a wash of homesickness and the strangling noose of responsibility made my eyes burn, and my neck — which still ached from Alsaes’s attentions — hurt. If I didn’t act, somehow, the girls would either be forced to do something hateful, or to be killed themselves.

  I had to talk to someone.

  I slid the note into my waistband and returned to the practice area. It seemed that everyone was going to funnel through there at some time during the day. I found Faline’s group still at the staves. The tutor walked around and around them, yelling exhortations, as one group tried to get by another group, the first unarmed, the second armed. I could see from some of the hot, shiny faces that many didn’t like having to hit their fellows, but they were afraid not to: their winces of effort, and tight mouths when they connected made it obvious to me, if not to the tutor.

  “Go! Go! You’re a prisoner escaping!” the tutor yelled hoarsely at Faline. “Run for your life!”

  She darted between two people, one of whom swung a staff in a threatening arc over her head. The other jabbed her staff between Faline’s legs, and poor Faline fell down hard, her braids flying.

  I couldn’t stand to watch. And I wouldn’t get near her anyway.

  When the tutor called them together again, I oozed away. Still watching, of course. In this place, I was always on the watch. So I saw the tutor glance at me, then quickly away again — but not before the tension in his face eased somewhat. He was glad I was leaving. What did he think, that I was spying for Kessler?

  I sighed, walking away.

  Another group marched past, this one fully armed, raising dust that hung suspended in the thick, humid air. Dirt corroded my throat. I coughed, then sneezed, following at a distance.

  That group disappeared into one of the buildings. I had no legitimate business there, and so I hovered near the doorway in the shade, trying to invent one.

  But then Dhana approached, hair and skirts swinging in her characteristic graceful glide. Dhana can’t do anything that’s not graceful — she even dances when she exits her room.

  Her face was wan and pinched-looking, her eyes half-angry and half-pained.

  I scuffled away from the door to the corner of the building — and Dhana came right up to me. “CJ,” she said brusquely, without greeting. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to someone,” I muttered.

  She looked around quickly, and then motioned for me to follow. “You’re just in time. We’re doing a seek-and-find until the lunch bell. If we’re fast, no one will see me with you.”

  She led the way behind a storage shed, and then between two buildings in a zigzag path that got me lost for a minute or two, until we emerged into the sun broiled expanse of Kessler’s parade’n’execution ground.

  “I hate this place,” Dhana said — just as I was thinking the same thing. “And so does everyone else. No one would think to look for us here. What’s up?” Her face, her eyes looked bleached. Even her scattering of light freckles were somehow pale.

  “Will there really be trouble if we’re seen talking together?”

  “A lot you know, CJ,” Dhana said in exasperation.

  “Why?”

  She looked down at her dusty toes, almost as brown as the bleached dirt. “Everyone knows you by sight, CJ. The tutors all think you’re around to spy on them, to make sure they’re efficient.”

  “Why? What have I done?”

  “What did you want to ask?” she said, glancing down one of the streets. “I can’t be gone long. Is there a plan to get out of here?”

  “I need to know why they think I’m a spy.”

  “Alsaes, of course,” Dhana said. “Says you’re being prepared for command. You’re supposed to get your lessons on that come the Plan day, but for now you watch all the tutors for weakness and for rule breaking. He hates you, CJ, and he’s making sure that everyone else does, too, though his words are all praise for how you’re doing your job.”

  I shuddered. “He must be planning for me to be star of his next execution.”

  “Exactly,” Dhana said. “Seshe figured it all out. We actually managed to talk a little last night — only because the schedule is all flooey against their rotten, stinky blasted plan. But meanwhile,” she pointed a thin finger at me, “that clod Alsaes is set on getting you clodded.”

  “A sickie!” I gave a weak laugh.

  A brief smile lit her changeable face, and then she grimaced. “Please be careful. Now, what did you want to talk about?”

  Of all the girls besides Clair, Dhana was the one to tell about that horrible place with the diamond. She didn’t know any magic — not in her human form — but in her other form she was magic. Quickly, without lingering on disgusting details (as I would have done had we been at home) I told her.

  She listened without comment, her expression going from wonder to horrified disbelief to a sour kind of wonderment again. At the end, she said, “And you actually got the diamond here?”

  “Hidden in the corner of my mattress,” I said, nodding.

  “What does it do?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Wonder what that place was! It can’t be in the world, not with no sun, and no time, and weird distances. All I can say is, it sounds like pure evil.”

  “I know. Gotta ask Clair when I see her — ”

  “Was that intended to be funny?” she asked forebodingly. “Would that be before or after you bump her off?”

  I gaped at Dhana, then all my bad feelings ripped through me. “Do you really think I’d kill Clair?” I asked in a fierce whisper. “I’d rather stick that knife in me, and if Alsaes told you any different, he can go nauseate his little lies — ”

  “I don’t believe him,” Dhana cut in with an impatient movement. “But when you do see her next, you’d better have a plan, especially if Kessler’s gonna be right there watching how well you handle your blade.”

  “I know,” I whined, agonized at the thought. “It’s just the idea — and I can’t think — ”

  “Sounds like you need a good night’s sleep.”

  “And if you think I can get a good night’s sleep around this dump, you need a bop on the klonk. Or maybe I do. I gotta think of something or I’ll go as crazy as Kessler.”

  “Crazy is right. Imagine wanting to take over the world. That’s worse than Shnit.”

  “The most horrible thing is, Shnit doesn’t believe for a second he’s doing anyone but himself any good — but Kessler really does think he’ll make things better!”

  “As if the world would be grateful,” she said, her lips curling. “Still — poor world!”

  “It will be, if he succeeds.”

  “Well, if he does, you won’t be around to see it,” Dhana said comfortingly. “We’ll all be arrow-pincushions on those things — unless Alsaes invents some yukkier way to drag it out.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the wooden posts, there before Kessler’s platform.

  “Oh, that’s only if we flub,” I said dolefully. “If we don’t, we’ll be the new rulers — have everything we want. I don’t trust Alsaes for a single breath, but I believe Kessler tells the truth as he sees it, and he really likes his army. He really trusts them!”

  As I spoke other ideas crowded into my head — too many to sort. Some I knew were important, but I couldn’t figure out which, and Dhana was talking.

  “That’s the worst of it,” she said, grimacing. “So many things are all turned around.”

  “All I see,” I muttered, “is that either way, I am a villain.”

  “CJ. Don’t.”

  I shut my mouth, my throat tight, and it wasn’t the dust. It was pure self-pity. I blinked fast, not looking at Dhana, thinking miserably that maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to see her. Before I
was just trying to survive, but now homesickness and helplessness overwhelmed me.

  Dhana sighed with sympathy, but said nothing.

  And there was nothing she could say. I had to meet the one ally who could act, but first I had to make his plan possible.

  I unloaded a heavy sigh. Dhana glanced up again — and this time her face went utterly blank. “Uh oh,” she breathed. “Gotta scram.” She took off.

  I forced myself to turn around, and there was — not Alsaes, but even worse, Kessler.

  White pain flashed through my head. Mindless panic froze me — I was terrified that he’d overheard our talk, and was just waiting to whistle up his killer squad and hold an impromptu execution.

  But he was at too much of a distance, leaning on a gate, watching with that typical total disregard for what in a normal world would be politeness.

  I forced myself to walk in his direction.

  “I like this place,” Kessler said by way of greeting. “A place for contemplation. You feel the need as well?”

  I flopped my arms in a shrug. I couldn’t speak; if I opened my mouth, I’d probably quack like a duck.

  “Your friend satisfied with her job?” Kessler asked me with that weird light blue gaze, so impossible to read.

  Control. “Working hard.” I managed to mouth out the words.

  “Evasion?” Kessler asked, still staring.

  “We didn’t really talk about her job,” I said, speaking quickly, desperate to sound normal — except I didn’t even know what that was any more. “Mearsies Heili is much cooler — I — we — she, well, isn’t feeling well in this heat.”

  He squinted upward, and for a moment he almost looked normal. “No one likes heat,” he said. “I don’t, either. But if we train well here, we can function in any environment.” He looked at me. “Have you finished today’s training? I can make some time for a lesson in tactics.”

  “If you’re too busy,” I said, remembering the Imaran man’s plan, “I did want to go to Dejain. See if she has my preliminary studies ready. And I do have to practice my maps.”

  This bald lie met with obvious approval.

  “She mentioned not having seen you. A good idea. Then you can get busy with the map work.”

  I nodded and took off running, so relieved to have escaped a nasty scene that I didn’t even notice the heat until I was halfway to Dejain’s.

  Fighting against the urge to look behind me (if Kessler was watching, I did not want him seeing those guilty peeks!) I slowed down. By now the sun was boiling hot. My clothes were damp, and I wondered if the note in my waistband had shredded to soggy paper fragments.

  Dejain’s place was a real relief.

  At least, I thought as I walked in, the coolness ought to help me think a little faster. At any rate I did feel better. The air was not only cool, it seemed to be tinged with a faint, peaceful blue — very restful on the eyes after the vicious glare outdoors.

  I entered the workroom. Dejain sat comfortably, sipping at a fragrant drink. “Cherene,” she said in welcome. “I was wondering when Kessler would give you a little time away from his tasks. I’d hoped that he would heed my recent hint, and it seems he has.” She smiled.

  “Well, I thought it time to come,” I said, as usual lying and hating myself for it.

  She sipped again at her drink. “I’m fairly prisoned here,” she said apologetically. “Or I’d have sought you. But it’s much too hot for someone of my years.”

  “Too hot for anyone, except maybe lizards,” I said, wondering how to get at what I needed. As she gave a mild chuckle I bit my lip hard, reminding myself of that earlier interview.

  She looked and sounded so nice, and not just nice, but safe and sane compared to Kessler and Alsaes. I felt a strong urge to tell her about the diamond and that weird place, but I remembered her weird words. At least not yet, I thought.

  “So what has Kessler kept you busy with?” she asked.

  “Oh, practice of various sorts — like you said.” Feeling like the world’s biggest hypocrite, I good-kiddied a lot of gorbaggio about Kessler’s map lessons and my improvement at the practice courts, meanwhile walking about and glancing — casually — at her books.

  In case she was reporting all my words back to Kessler, I made sure I didn’t give any hint of a complaint, and repeated how interesting everything was.

  When I’d done a circuit of the room — and hadn’t seen anything that would help me — I said, “But soon I ought to have time to study here, and I was wondering what you’ll want me to learn. And do.”

  “We’ll do some tests first, to find out the extent of your magic abilities,” she said. “And if Kessler was right about your being able to hold at least the basics, you’ll be able to take over some of the minor tasks that consume my time. Good practice for you, enabling me to concentrate on major projects.”

  Was this my chance?

  “Such as?” I asked eagerly. “I mean, for me to do? Spy-spells on people, or what?”

  “No need,” she said, smiling. “I foresaw the necessity and cast a blanket enchantment that includes the loyalty spells, both the general one controlling the focus of Kessler’s willing minions, and the stronger one Alsaes recently insisted on for the prisoners who change their minds and choose service over death.”

  “To make sure they won’t cause trouble?” I asked, my skin itchy and hot.

  “Of course,” she said.

  That was why Puddlenose, Christoph, and Rel didn’t pretend to change their minds. They’d lose their minds!

  “You can take that job.” Dejain set aside her drink and rose to her feet. “As it is now, Alsaes’s scouts bring in one or two new recruits each day, and I have to put the new loyalty spell on them as they leave the building for their assignment. It’s a tedious job, cutting terribly into my own tasks, but Alsaes insisted to the extent that Kessler insisted. So.” She shrugged. “It must be done.”

  As she spoke, she toyed absently with one of the books on a nearby shelf. My heart thumped as I memorized the position and the binding on that book. “After the Plan’s initial stage is complete, if recruitment is to be on the large scale that Kessler expects, we’ll need a stronger spell, one that subsumes will permanently. Mine wears off too fast, and needs reinforcement. This is a much larger task; even Shnit of the Chwahir has not mastered it completely. I have copies of all his tries.” She waved her hand toward another set of books.

  I folded my arms, pressing them against my stomach. Trying for a casual voice, I said, “Or else what, there’ll be too many prisoners for those executions in front of everybody?”

  “Not likely. He won’t have time. Only rulers, or leaders. Then the execution is symbolic, as it is now, but for a larger populace. Or so he reasons.” She quirked her brows.

  “But if there are new jails, we’ll need new spells to make certain they can’t escape, right?” I asked brightly.

  “Yes. Another tedious chore,” she said, lifting her gaze upward. “But good practice for a beginner.”

  My heart banged. “Want me to learn the spells now? To save time?”

  She waved carelessly at that same shelf. “No need; it is all written out plainly. You’ll be a better magician if you study and master the basics, rather than specific spells of narrow purpose here and there. But speaking of the prisoners ...” And here she caressed another of her books, a thin black-bound one. “I have an errand for you. Consider it your first test, if you will.” She smiled again, with obvious intent.

  “Uh, what is it?” I asked, now really scared.

  “One of the prisoners. Yellow hair, named Christoph. He appears to be immune to my spells. Nor can I descry his true origin, and I fear he may be a spy. I want you to take this knife and kill him for me.” She picked up a curious-looking knife, with a wickedly curving blade. An evil greenish tint shone along the edge. She smiled more widely as she placed it in my hand.

  “Why? Why me?” I corrected quickly.

  “Because Kessler
has specifically forbidden Alsaes and me to molest his prisoners any more. Yet I would feel better about, oh, the success of Kessler’s plan if that particular prisoner were safely sent along to Norsunder.”

  Norsunder.

  My shoulders hunched toward my ears, and though I noticed and forced them down again, she smiled a little, ironic and condescending at my reaction to the name no one said in polite company.

  “So then I’ll get into trouble,” I hedged.

  “No — unless of course he’s forbidden you the prison, but I know he hasn’t, because Alsaes was just here a while ago, complaining about how much time you spend there.”

  “I’m just trying to convince them — ”

  She shrugged. “If you wish. It’s certainly an exercise for a future commander, but that doesn’t concern me now. What does is this particular person, for I sense trouble from him. In fact I know he’s trouble. My instincts are very good.” She tapped the blade in my palm — keeping her finger well away from the sharp edge. “Complete your first test, and I will teach you a spell that you will probably find amusing.”

  “But Kessler — ”

  “If you do it and then confess he will not be angry. Not if your reasons relate to loyalty, the Plan, and his greatest concerns.”

  She smiled sweetly.

  Numb with fear, I closed my fingers around the hilt. “I guess I’d better go.”

  “Do it quickly. Contemplation beforehand is what makes it difficult when you’ve little experience,” she said in a kindly, encouraging tone.

  I walked out, and this time I scarcely noticed the heat, except as it added to my already churning guts.

  What now? What now?

  I walked like a zombie back up the street. Who could help me now?

  No one.

  I stood outside the jail. I didn’t even remember getting there.

  I turned around. Kessler was inside his office, still with a pen in his hand. He stared out at me, a frown narrowing his eyes.

  Though he didn’t move, I jerked forward, as though pulled by a string, and stepped inside. Away from the merciless sun, the air was slightly cooler. Kessler’s sleeves were rolled to just below his elbows, a rare concession to the murderous humidity that just kept intensifying. I looked at those forearms, shaped by muscle, and turned my gaze away, gulping in a parched throat. It was far too easy to think of him jumping up and choking my scrawny neck with one hand. And he would, if he found out what I really planned.