Stonewiser

by Dora Machado

  “Did he leave a stone for me?” Sariah asked.

  “A stone? No.”

  Not Arron, then. He loved his little monsters, his snatching stones. “Did this man have a name?”

  Despite the exquisitely sculpted lines of Eda's face, beauty had a way of turning ugly in defeat. “I'm sure you understand. Considering the kind of business we did, he didn't mention a name and I didn't ask. But he did say he would return for you. He said they needed you. He said Mistress Grimly, the Guild's true and only Prime Hand, was looking for you.”

  Alabara was by far the most inaccessible of all of the Domain's tribes. An active rot pit besieged the settlement year round. The only way in or out was a slim dead water lane carved on a beam of crumbling sandstone. It spanned the rot flow and connected with the few narrow ribs of red stone that anchored the odd-looking settlement.

  Sariah leaned on the channel's ledge, making a show of taking a rest. Porous and easily eroded, sandstone wasn't a particularly good guardian for truth or a trustworthy depository for lasting wisings. Yet Sariah could sense the faint call of the wising protecting the stone surrounding the channel. The temptation was too hard to resist.

  She laid her palms on the stone. The call echoed through her like a gust of cool wind. It had been a while since she had encountered wised stone of this magnitude. The links in the stone were loose and distant, the core felt hollow, and the wising was by no means as strong as it should be, but the sheer joy of the contact flooded her like a rush of fresh water, until she was beaming with the amazing sensation and brimming like a full reservoir.

  “Sariah?” Kael's voice recalled her to the heat of the waning day. He had to shake her a little before she heard him. “Sorry, but you're smiling like a fool. In this wretched line, it's bound to attract attention.”

  With a pang of regret, Sariah released the trance and joined Kael pulling the deck forward. They managed no more than three or four steps before they had to stop again. It was hard, tedious, muscle-wrenching, calf-bruising work getting the deck to start moving, only to have to stop it again right away. They had been in line all day to enter Alabara. The sun was low on the horizon, and yet they were still stuck in the traffic-choked channel.

  She looked back to see that their collective disguise as a family was working well. Whoever was looking for Sariah expected two people, not five. That's why they had decided to come to Alabara together, not to mention there weren't any places on the way where they could have dropped off Malord, Mia and Delis.

  Malord played the grandfather fittingly, loitering by the door under the shade of the roof's overhang. To avoid recognition, he had shaped himself a pair of bulky limbs by stuffing some rolled blankets under the one he spread over his lap. Sariah wagered he had his heavy mace stuffed under the blankets as well. He was playing snakes and scorpions with little Mia, who had been told in no uncertain terms to be quiet, obedient, and to restrain her power at all costs, a feat that didn't seem hard for her as long as Sariah was nearby and nobody threatened their lives. Meliahs help them all.

  Delis knelt by the brazier like a dutiful wife, stirring something, probably dinner, although what she could cook was not clear to Sariah. Delis's face was wrapped, hiding the mark on her temple. Sariah supposed she ought to be grateful for the stench that poisoned the air. In addition to wearing the face wrap, the Alabarians wore translucent, colorful veils to protect their eyes from the sting in the air. The veil didn't hide her features, but the color of Sariah's matching eyes was fairly diffused by it.

  For further protection, Sariah had decided to wear male clothing under her weave. Her braid was tucked beneath a young man's cap. She had bulked up her shoulders a bit, toying with the proportions of her tightly bound chest. Her one arm also looked the part, but that was only because of Delis's attempt at concealing her banishment bracelet.

  It had happened the night before, as they camped in the flats, waiting for their turn to go into Alabara. They had been discussing the plan that would allow them to enter undetected.

  “I will go, regardless,” Sariah was saying.

  “You can't go,” Kael said. “If that thing begins to glow, you'll get yourself killed.”

  “I must speak to Leandro.”

  “You can't come.”

  “Do you think you're my lease?”

  Delis stiffened with Sariah's indignation. Her eyes darted to Sariah's face. She had the distinct impression that Delis sought some instruction from her, some wordless command that would enable her to pummel Kael, or at least try.

  “I can make the glow go away,” Delis said.

  “You can? Why didn't you say so before?”

  “My donnis didn't ask.”

  “I'm not your donnis,” Sariah said for the millionth time. “But if you can do as you say, then I'm asking you.”

  Delis worked on a concoction of mud from the flats, mixed over the brazier's low fire with a measure of flour and some boiled flax from their newly acquired stores. Sariah watched the woman work, taking note of the ingredients. Delis toiled tirelessly through the night over the steaming pot, stealing glances at Sariah when she thought she wasn't looking. Long strands of coarse wild hair escaped the severity of Delis's tail, framing her face in dark waves.

  When the concoction was ready, Delis slapped it over Sariah's wrist, covering the bracelet. It took several layers. As the mixture dried, it looked as if Sariah's arm had been colonized by bees and turned into a hive. But by the time Delis finished, the bracelet's red glow was invisible.

  Kael inspected Delis's handiwork. “Will the glow leak through?”

  “After a few hours,” Delis said.

  “More than enough time for our little excursion,” Sariah pointed out.

  Her triumphant smile echoed on Delis's face. Kael stared from one woman to the other, no doubt wondering if these two had purposely conspired against him. It had been an odd moment at best, but Sariah had mouthed a quick word of thanks to Delis when Kael wasn't looking. So far, the cover was intact over the bracelet. Sariah prayed it would remain so for a little longer.

  “We're coming to the gate,” Kael said.

  “At last,” Sariah said.

  “Don't be too happy. Alabara is a strange place, as hard to escape as it is to enter. We'll have to have our wits about us if we want to do well in there.”

  “Truth be told, it looks like something out of Meliahs’ nightmares. It reminds me of a giant's rotting corpse, you know, like in the story of Meliahs’ rape.”

  “No doubt one of the Guild's favorites,” Kael said. “I don't know that story.”

  “Surely you've heard about the time when the evil Menodor imprisoned Meliahs for forty days and nights and forced her to lay a stone egg from his seed in exchange for her freedom? When it hatched, a giant emerged from the broken shell, tall as Meliahs’ boulders. Menodor was joyous to have a new powerful son to follow in his wicked ways. But Meliahs wasn't pleased with Menodor or his ways.”

  “And we all know what happens when Meliahs isn't pleased.”

  “Indeed,” Sariah said. “She destroyed her giant son before it could take its first step. I think that Alabara looks like the rotting skeleton of the evil giant rising from the broken egg.”

  “We try to remember Meliahs’ blessings on this side of the wall,” Kael said. “On the other hand, the tale fits.”

  The settlement before them was an uneven jumble of decks built on top of each other, ten or twelve stories high connected with hundreds of ladders. The structure's wooden carcass rose from an enormous crater edged by a thin cracked shell of eroded red rock. As they made their way slowly towards the gate, Sariah pressed her hand over her veil.

  “The stench of the place.”

  “It's not just the rot,” Kael said. “It's the red dye.”

  “The red dye?”

  “Alabara's treasure. Its reason to exist. No other dye is as highly valued for cloth and paint, in the Domain or in the Goodlands. It comes from the caves in the sand ro
ck.”

  “That's why the stone felt hollow. That's why the links are so brittle and distant. They're excavating the rock. It's a wonder the settlement stands.”

  “Believe me, it's a more like a miracle.” Kael eyed the higher stories with suspicion. “You should hear the tragedies. It falls apart all the time.”

  “You'd think the marcher here would care to make it safe.”

  “You'd think.”

  “Let's hope we don't have to go very high or stay very long. Look at all these people.”

  “It's hard to believe, but there's a lot less people trying to enter Alabara today. There's usually many more.”

  “Why do they come here?”

  “Some are dye traders, those you know by their mercenary faces. The rest live here.”

  “Why would they want to live in this rickety dung pile?”

  “Think, Sariah. Alabara is the hardest settlement to access in the Domain and that makes it the safest refuge. As close as the settlement is to the wall, no Shield assault has ever succeeded against Alabara.”

  “Look at those thugs, harassing people for entrance. I didn't think this type of abuse happened in the Domain.”

  “That's because you don't know Orgos,” Kael said. “He is marcher here.”

  Three decks ahead, a dozen armed guards were taunting a poor woman and her scrawny children, demanding payment.

  “But sir,” the woman pleaded, “my brother lives here. As soon as he hears I've come, he'll run down and pay our fees.”

  “Get out of here,” the guard shouted. “Take your whelps with you, idle mouths wanting to eat us out of our food.”

  “Please, sir, call my brother, on the fourth level. He'll pay for our keeping. I swear.”

  Sariah seethed. “He's a bully. I know the type.”

  “His name is Alfred,” Kael said. “He's Orgos's lackey.”

  “You know him?”

  “I remember him. Let's hope he doesn't remember me.”

  The blood drained from Sariah's veins. “Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?”

  Kael's gaze was focused ahead. “I think that woman is going to need our help.”

  “Back to the flats,” Alfred was saying.

  “But sir, I've waited three days for entry.” The woman sobbed. “We have no more food left. We'll die on the flats. Please, sir. My brother—”

  “Leave,” Alfred barked. “Or I'll cut your deck's twine myself. See how you like the flats without a deck.”

  “Mia,” Kael called. “I need you to run an errand for me.”

  The girl hopped down from the deck and joined them in the channel. A knowing smile lit up her freckled face as she listened to Kael's careful instructions. Sariah held her breath. Mia did as she was told, reaching the woman's deck, blending in with the anguished woman's children, and dropping a few coins in her weathered hand.

  “Uncle sends the entrance fee,” Mia whispered before she disappeared into the crowd, leaving the woman shocked but visibly relieved. Mia slipped out of the deck and then blended with the multitudes piling at the gates. Sariah lost sight of her in the sea of people. She must have circled wide and far, because much to Sariah's anxiety, a few long moments passed before she popped up undetected next to Kael.

  “Well done, Mianina.” Kael ruffled her veil. “You've done that woman and her family a good deed today.”

  “You too, Uncle.” She smiled.

  “Go in the shelter and wait there until we pass the gates,” Kael said. “We wouldn't want any of those thugs recognizing you.”

  Sariah watched the girl go. Despite her lethal power, Mia was learning to do right.

  Ahead of them, the woman was allowed passage and the line of decks began to move again. Sariah and Kael pulled in unison, advancing slowly. But something about their earlier conversation bothered Sariah.

  “So you know this Alfred thug?” she asked. “And the marcher here, Orgos?”

  “A little.”

  It smelled like carrion, and it wasn't just the rot or the dye. “Kael, son of Ars, is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Not particularly.” He wore the blank face that aggravated her beyond reason.

  “Are you in danger here?”

  “I doubt anybody remembers.”

  The stink was only getting worse. “You better tell me what happened.”

  “It was a few years back,” he said. “I was going to roam the Goodlands and I came here to purchase a bit of red dye, a wise investment for all good roamers. Did I tell you? It trades better than coin in the Goodlands—”

  “You said that. Go on.”

  “I guess Orgos didn't like me much on account of some disruption or another. I'm not a big fan of his methods. I didn't like his price either. I thought it excessive. He was outraged when I refused to pay it.”

  The deck in front of them came to another stop. Sariah and Kael dug their feet in the mud and braced to break their deck's momentum with the back of their legs.

  “I take it you didn't part friends?”

  “Friends? No. I wouldn't say so.”

  “But all ended well in the end?”

  Kael began to pull again. “He wanted what he wanted and I didn't want to give it.”

  “Just tell me, Kael. Why does Orgos have a problem with you?”

  “I sort of burned down his place.”

  Sariah stared at him open-mouthed.

  “And I killed a few of his men.”

  “A few?” She took in the armed thugs at the gates.

  “And I cut him, just a little.”

  “You… cut… Orgos? You wounded him?”

  “Sliced off his ear cleanly.”

  “Stop grinning, you fool. It's not funny. You should have told me before we came. You're in danger here!”

  She scanned the long deck line, looking for the quickest way out. They were locked in traffic, trudging toward to the gate, cattle routed to the slaughter.

  “This is exactly why I didn't want you to come with me,” she babbled, close to hysteria. “You can't go into Alabara. We have to turn around. We've got to get out of this line. Run back. Find a place on one of the waiting decks. We'll pick you up on the way out.”

  “And leave you alone in this? I think not.”

  “For Meliahs’ sake. You cut the man's ear!”

  “I doubt he misses it. He was never a good listener.”

  “You can't go in there. We have to change our plans.”

  “Why do you insist in making my choices for me?”

  Sariah could hardly believe her ears. “I don't—”

  “Aye, you do, and it bothers the liver out of me.”

  “You'll be missing your damn liver if we go in there, and your senseless head.”

  “They're mine to lose.”

  “Don't you give me this load of bull—”

  “Don't you treat me like your lease.”

  “My lease?” Sariah gaped. “You're not my lease. You're my blanket mate and you shouldn't be out here risking blood for the sake of stones.”

  “But I get to do as I please.”

  “Really?” Sariah wanted to murder him at the moment. “In that case, I do as I please too.”

  She waded in front of the oncoming traffic, trying to turn the deck around, pulling like a rebellious mule. Kael just stood there, anchoring the deck with his body like the steadiest of piers. He pulled on the rope and dragged her back to his side, until they were nose to nose.

  “Since when do you shy your duty, wiser?”

  “Since your life started getting in the way.”

  “I'm not so sour on life as to give it up easily,” he said. “I'm not dumb or stupid, but I understand, as you must, that to be free sometimes means you have to suffer or die.”

  “What by the rot pits are you talking about?”

  “Do you know why I'm here? Why I came?”

  “Because of your damn oath?”

  “That too. But mostly, I'm h
ere because of you and me, not just you, but me. Our lives. After this. When it's all over.”

  Sariah had never looked that far ahead.

  “We get this done and we're free. You and I, free to do as we like, free of duty. Free.”

  An end to the endless. Freedom to the lifelong bound. No, Sariah didn't think she could understand the notion, but she was suddenly very glad to consider it.

  “Don't you understand, Sariah? There is no other way but forward. Let's do this as quickly as we can. Let's do it together, for the future's sake and move on to that future.”

  The future was such an alluring, elusive, terrifying notion, one day there, the next day gone, along with someone's existence. “Let's turn around, Kael. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “I think it's too late for that,” he said softly. “We've arrived at Alabara's gates.”

  Thirteen

  The man called Alfred was broader than a wagon and taller than a camel. He looked like a camel too, with nostrils wider than the flats and flaccid lips which ruminated obscenities in place of cud.

  “No beggars allowed,” he bellowed. “What's your business?”

  “We've come to deliver a load of flax to the weaver.” Kael kept his gaze down and his voice low like a humble laborer, but Sariah knew that every part of him was engaged in tracking the thugs at the gates.

  “Cargo's double.” Alfred extended a filthy hand. “Me and my friends charge insurance to get you in.”

  Kael shelled out half of his purse's contents. Alfred pocketed the coins and snatched the purse from Kael's hands. Good thing Kael had anticipated the abuse. He had stored the rest of their coin safely away before entering Alabara. Sariah repressed an urge to kick the thug in the knees.

  Alfred jumped down from the ledge and waded to the back of their deck, where the flax was piled in small bundles. Sariah feared the people in the upper stories of Alabara could hear her heart hammering. The day before, Kael had scoured the decks waiting to be admitted into Alabara and managed to purchase a small amount of threshing flax for the deception. They had propped up the flax bundles on a bed of less expensive straw. Thankfully, Alfred didn't seem to know the difference. He didn't seem to recognize Kael either.