Shadow's Daughter

by Shirley Meier

  They were just across Reyeka Road and Pisznychiy was only two streets away. Ness managed to get him up on her shoulders somehow, straightened her legs and stood up, breathing through her clenched teeth. Then she took a half step, then a full one. She sounded as if she sobbed every time her foot came down.

  It was dark because the moon had set behind the City ridge, and though Shamballah was bright it wasn't enough to see by in the narrow streets. Maybe the Goddess could help us if I pray hard. She'd help and we wouldn't have to go to Aunt Marie's. Lixand’s head and hands dangled loosely. He can't be dead. Mama wouldn't let him be dead.

  The cobbles here were like Megan's back teeth, smooth in the middle, jagged on the edges, and the bundle kept catching on them. "Mama, is Papa going to be all right?"

  Ness didn't answer right away. "Ye… es, Megan. He just needs to heal." She stumbled, fell on her knees, and just caught Lixand from sliding off with one hand, holding herself up with the other.

  "I'm here, Mama. I'm here." Megan tried to help her mother up.

  "N… o Megan. I'm all… all right. It's just… just a bit further. Run ahead and get Marte. Get her to come and help."

  Megan didn't want to go in the dark by herself. She could just make out her mama's face. Ness's eyes were squeezed shut and a thin red line of blood trickled on her chin from where she'd bitten her lip.

  It's just Pisznychiy Street. I've been here before, but I don't remember it really well. It's just Pisznychiy Street. She put her hands behind her back. "Megan…" Mama didn't say anything else. I have to. She left the bundle and ran.

  It was dark and the buildings looming around her were black and tall, the gargoyles on the walls staring down at her out of their shadows. She ran, her heart beating in her ears. There was the faint smell of smoke here, too, and Megan ran, imagining the fire looking for them, following them down the streets like a hound following a blood-trail.

  There were echoes everywhere, as if someone were pacing her running steps before and behind her, the light of fires in the First Quarter flickering from the low clouds just rolling in over the stars. Megan tripped and fell, scraping her knee.

  There were no torches in the brackets on the walls, and something ran along the wall and hissed at her. A big cat, she thought. Just a big old cat. Her imagination filled the dark with slavers and monsters. Koru's statue in the shrine on the corner shone bright white in the dark like a promise of salvation. Megan hid in the shadow of the statue and hugged it, but Koru was just an old statue and didn't hear her crying. Megan looked to where Aunt Marte's house was. It was dark between here and there.

  Papa was hurt and maybe Mama, too. Aunt Marte was kin. Even if she didn't like Mama or Megan, she'd still help. She had to.

  Three houses. That's all. Koru, help me. Even if you are just a crumbly old statue with pigeon poop on you. She bit her lip, let go of the statue, and ran. Two houses. One house. Here.

  She pushed the gate open, glad it wasn't locked. Lights from inside shone around the edges of the closed shutters. She could hear Aunt Marte singing, in a high, wavery voice:

  "Red roses for my love, dragon's blood in plenty, red blood to fight for, lest we be drained empty. Red is the setting sun, red the victory color, red roses for my love, red blood for my lover…"

  Her voice stopped suddenly, then she laughed and Megan heard a man's voice when she knocked. There was a rustle from the room below and she knocked louder. "Aunt Marte! Aunt Marte, open the door please!" She knocked harder. Someone was climbing the steps. "Aunt Marte, Papa's hurt, Mama's so tired. Aunt, please help."

  "Marte, what is it?" The man's voice again. "A problem?"

  Marte laughed, shortly. "No, Varik. Nothing I can't handle. M'kin, showin' up on't'is stormy n-night."

  "Hrmmm." The man sounded big. Aunt Marte shot the bolts and opened the door.

  "Megan. Where's my brother? He's hurt?" She was dressed in red like all the rioters supporting Mikail, with her tunic unlaced down the front and her hair loose around her shoulders. She didn't look particularly happy to see Megan. She smelled of wine and incense and spices. "Wh—ere's Lixand? Not come't' help me cel'brate, hmm?" She swayed a little, clutching drunkenly at the doorpost.

  "Mama carried him, everything's all burned up, Mama sent me and can't carry him anymore and he's not awake and…"

  "Shhhush. Hush. Slow down," she said, waving Megan silent. "You mean my little brother got himself caught in the thresher today?" She hiccupped, not moving from the door.

  The man whose voice Megan had heard came up the stairs behind her. He looked like a brewery horse with a long black mane, a lot of old scars on his chest and right hand. He wore pants and boots, and on his shoulder was a blue tattoo that looked like an open-work diamond. He grinned at Megan, a gap-toothed grin where he was missing one of his eye-teeth.

  "Your papa's hurt and your mama carried him here out of the riots?"

  "Almost here, she can't anymore and… and…" Megan's voice stopped as if she had a ladle full of porridge stuck in her throat. Her eyes felt full and hot, but she didn't want to cry anymore. Aunt Marte's shaking her head, no. She can't say no. She can't.

  "That woman, won't hav'er…"

  "Come on Martie, my dearling," the man said. "You're too drunk to know what you're saying lovey. They're your kin and you're not the kind to slough them off." He turned her around and patted her behind. "I'll help the kid. Go on then and fix up your spare room like a good girl." She wobbled downstairs, still muttering. He looked down at Megan and she felt scared, but he was helping more than Aunt Marte so she tried not to show it. "Snow me where your folks are, kid."

  He got a torch and came with her, and as they went down the street Megan heard Aunt's voice rising behind her, complaining: "Tha' dam' wo—woman. Get m' lil' brother in trbl. SHIT! B'chy whore. Won' hav't. C'nt. Lixand’ll be fine once I help… Unlicensed whore!" But they got further away and Megan couldn't hear what she was saying even when she shouted.

  "How far have you folks come?" the man asked her. Megan ran to keep up with him as he walked.

  "Szyzka Lane," was all she had breath for. He whistled through the gap in his teeth but didn't say anything else.

  In the time Megan had been gone, Ness had managed to get up somehow, still carrying her husband, and come a few more steps. She stood with her knees bent and her head down, shaking.

  The horsey man, Varik, stopped and put the torch in an empty holder on the wall. "Here, Teik," he said, and took Papa off Mama's shoulders. "I have him." As he was shifted, Lixand woke, struggling weakly, then lay still again.

  Ness stumbled when the weight came off her back, almost not believing that it was gone. Megan went to hold her hand. I'm so tired. I want to go to bed, but my bed's all burnt up.

  They got to Aunt Marte's and stumbled downstairs, back into her spare room. "H—ic—ere! You're slobbing soot 'n my rugs," was all she said. Varik put Papa down in the bed and Ness thanked him. Rilla cried in the front room and Aunt Marte took the baby up on her shoulder, not saying anything to them now, just patting Rilla until she fell asleep.

  Ness undressed her husband as if she were a sleepwalker, washing and binding up his arm. Megan undressed herself. She used the bucket and put the lid on, like you were supposed to. Ness called her and lifted her up on her lap and held her close.

  "Megan. We're going to have to stay here until your Papa's better. You've been a good, brave girl and I'm proud of you. I love you."

  "I love you, too." Papa was asleep and everything would be all right again. In the front room, from the wallbed, Megan could hear the rumble of Varik's voice and Aunt Marte's higher one. She sounded nicer when he talked to her, Megan thought, falling asleep on her mama's lap.

  Megan didn't go to school next day. They slept late and Ness slept all night in the chair, tending Lixand. He was fevered and his arm puffed up, burned patches peeling off with the bandages when Ness changed them. Bruises came up on his face; his eyes black and purple, swollen shut.


  Megan held Rilla, who was two years younger, and told her all about it. I don't like Teik Vyaroslaf. He hurt Papa. He burnt our house down. He hurt Papa. I hate Teik Vyaroslaf. I hate him. The distillery hissed and bubbled to itself in the corner like a sleeping dragon. The two children had been told not to touch the clear fluid dripping into the flask; it wasn't water. Marte's herbs hung from the ceiling, the drying plants making it look like a dusty, dark green carpet because she'd adjusted the shutters so the ceiling stayed shadowed. Megan looked up at the sound of voices in the back room where her father was. Aunt had gone in to speak to Ness after she'd vomited up the worst of her hangover.

  "He's badly hurt," Marte said. "If he dies—"

  "He won't!" Ness interrupted firmly. "He won't." They came out, closing the door behind them so they wouldn't bother Lixand. Ness looked over at Marte. "You hate me, I know, but I don't care about that. Hate me all you like, but don't stint him in any way. He's your younger brother."

  "I'll get one of the Brown brothers."

  "We'll need a Haian. If you won't pay, I will." They glared at each other until Marte shrugged and looked away. Ness waited until Marte left to fetch the Haian before she went back to look after her husband, leaving Megan to look after Rilla.

  The two girls played inside mostly because of the wet weather, and because Megan didn't want to go very far away from her parents. She was careful that they played quietly so they didn't disturb her father. Once they brought more water from the water bucket and cloths to Ness in the back room. Lixand muttered, fumbling at the covers, pushing them off, dreaming. Mama won't let him die. He’ll get better. Aunt Marte's helping, even if she doesn't want to.

  The Haian came later that morning. She was dark brown all over her face and hands as if she worked in the sun, and Megan tried not to stare because Haians were supposed to be brown. The healer's accent was musical, stretching "i's" to "e's" and the other way around. Megan felt better just seeing her. Haians were the best healers in the world.

  Rilla played with her rag doll, while Megan sat watching the closed door. The Haian was in there for quite awhile and Megan strained to make out words as the healer talked to Ness. When the Haian came out carrying her bag in strong brown hands, she looked unhappy.

  "I will come agin," she said to Ness. "Tomorrow. Kip eet covered and eef the Spirit of Life is weeth heem, hee will recover somewhat. I hold out leetle hope of saveeng hees arm but one never knows. I will do my bist."

  "Thank you," Ness said, her eyes reddened with unshed tears. Marte looked up from the corner where she was putting stoppers in glass jars, snorted and went back to her bottles.

  Rilla hit Megan on the head with her rag doll. Megan pushed her away and Rilla sat down hard but didn't cry— just sat sniffling a little, looking first at Megan then at Marte. "You're mean," she said, but not "I'm telling."

  The Haian went upstairs to the door. "Unteel tomorrow. Spirit be weeth you."

  "And with you."

  When Mama came back down, Aunt Marte said, "If you waste all your money on a Haian, you'll be destitute."

  "I'm a weaver, I still have my skills."

  Aunt laughed. "Oh, yes, and who is the Guildmaster now? Or will be, very shortly? Vyaroslaf. Do you think that he'll acknowledge your status as a weaver? And my little brother. If he recovers? He'll be a one-handed weaver.

  "We have our friends still." Mama stood at the bottom of the stairs looking suddenly small.

  "Friends. Where were they last night?" Aunt hummed a snatch of "Red Roses."

  "All green supporters. Even if the Woyvode isn't dead, only ill, Mikails won because Khovorbod had an 'accident' in the confusion. They won't dare help you."

  "I don't believe it." Mama stood up straighter. "I don't believe that people are so weak that they wouldn't help their friends.' She walked over to Megan, picked her up and hugged her. "I don't believe the world is what you think it is."

  "Ha! Romantic peasant shit! You'll find out. It'll chew you up and spit you out in little pieces. I'll help you because of my brother, but don't you ever try to come crawling to me for your own sake." Aunt Marte tied a bundle of weeds together and cut the thread with her teeth. Ness set Megan down, leaving a hand on her head.

  "Don't worry, Marte. I never will. Megan, come sit with me a while."

  "Yes, Mama."

  They went and sat in the hot, dim back room with Lixand. He would throw his head back and forth or fight the covers, drinking the water Ness gave him without opening his eyes. His hair was pasted to his face with sweat.

  "Megan, tomorrow you can go back to school as long as you promise not to say anything about me or your papa. We paid for the year and you should miss as little as possible since you're going to need all the schooling you can get."

  Megan sat on the edge of Papa's bed and walked her fingers up and down the bedclothes. "Shouldn't I help you, Mama?" Ness poked Megan's cheek with a finger and tried to smile, but Megan didn't; that was Papa's trick. Little solemn face.

  "You may help, after school. Do you think you can walk all by yourself, to Szyzka Lane? I can't come with you."

  Megan nodded vigorously. "I can. I'm big enough to help."

  "You can help most by not saying anything, even if Rosziviy says or does anything to you. If her papa finds out we're all still alive he might try to hurt us even more."

  I really mustn't. I hate Rosziviy. I hate her papa. I wish the Dark One would take them away into Halya and freeze them in ice and burn them with steam and make all their skin fall off and their eyes boil and have eagles with fire for wings pick them.

  "I won't say anything, Mama. I promised'

  Ness smiled a little more broadly. "That's my bylashka. Why don't you go play with Rilla some more?"

  When Megan turned to go back out to the big room again, Papa started shouting and Ness leaned over him to keep him from flailing his burned arm against the bed. "No!… Vyar… Ness, get out! Take Megan. I'll… ahhh!" She was leaning on him and he was trying to get up, waving his arms. Megan watched, frightened, her stomach twisted, knotted together inside like the snakes and worms in the display case in Sysbat Tenara's museum. But Mama's all right. And Papa'll get better. The Haian says so and Mama'll make him get better.

  Koru, are you listening? I'm sorry I thought you were a crumbly old statue with bird poop on it. Please help us. Please? You're a powerful Goddess and it wouldn't be hard. Koru? Pretty please? We're all safe, even Brunsc because Sysbat Tenant has him, but can you make there be a home again, please? Amen.

  Chapter Four

  Sysbat Karlovna stood in front of the class reading a history. Nobody liked to sit close to her, even if she did mumble, because she sprayed everybody in the front with spit. Megan didn't think Sysbat liked reading aloud much, and didn't really listen. Instead she thought about her papa and mama. The Haian had come back a couple of times in the last two days.

  "… the Zak leader, Dayovich, realized that the independent—can you say that word, children?—the independent tribes of the Zak could never win against the Armai, and swore that we would be one nation, one people…"

  Ness had tried to talk to Papa's friends but had come back both saddened and angry, saying they put her off. "Scared stupid that they'll lose their places if Vyaroslaf ever finds out about it," she'd said. "And all of them thinking the others would help more than they. They gave us money, because they're not that scared, but getting them to take legal action with us against a new Guildmaster? Phhaugh!"

  She was angry enough that Aunt Marte didn't even say "I told you so." She'd just watched Ness, like a lizard. Then she said, "The family… we can't afford an Advocate by ourselves. Besides, Vyaroslaf could out-bribe us now, with the Guild coffers behind him." Mama had stopped and stared at her, then went to look after Papa without answering back.

  After the door was closed behind them and Megan held the basin for Papa's bandages, she saw Ness try to hold back her tears. Lixand was often delirious. Megan had gone to play with Rilla as her mot
her had asked, but heard Mama sobbing into the clean bandages she'd been holding.

  Megan curled her toes inside her socks, hoping that what Mama had said—that they'd have a home again once Papa got better—was true. She looked around the other children listening to the history.

  Sysbat Karlovna had a thread trailing from the hem of her robe that swayed back and forth as she read. "… and when Iyesi was an empire, we were one people again." Sysbat put the book down and told them to stand to recite. History goes a long way back. Almost all the way back to when the world burned. I like history better than the arithmetic that comes next.

  "First there were Zak. We had a K'mizariza, the age of Great Kings. Then came the Republic when the mob ruled. Then came the priests' Seven Hundred Years of Holiness and Corruption. Then came the Years of The Three—Priest, Priest, and War Leader. Then came the generations of the SmiurgTeik, our Beloved Dragon Lord, the Woyvode."

  Megan scratched her back, telling herself she should pay attention. I promised the Goddess I'd be good so she'd keep the Dark Lord from taking Papa away.

  Rosziviy smirked at her across the circle and Megan made her face stony. Ursella winked and Megan felt a little better.

  The day's heat sat inside the house where the night breeze couldn't touch it, though all the windows were open. The herbs on the ceiling rustled, but the breeze never came down inside. Megan lay on her pallet next to Rilla, watching the light under the door of the spare room, where the Haian was. The door was closed, although the back room was stuffy even with the windows open.

  Rilla was asleep. Earlier that evening Aunt Marte had hit her for being bad, though all that she'd done wrong that Megan could see was sing too loud. She had the marks of tears on her face and a bruised cheek. Mama's been with Papa all day and didn't see and stop Aunt Marte from doing it.

  The dark pressed down on Megan as if it didn't want her to breathe. Aunt Marte's house doesn't like us either.

  The Haian was doing something that clinked and rattled and made a strong smell as if the still was working. Rilla rolled over in her sleep and whimpered because of her bruises.