Tikhiy ducked her head and mumbled something about Megan and the pillow. Serkai was holding it and started to put it behind his back but stopped, embarrassed. "Well, a little less noisily then, hmm?" Master Zyatki nodded at them, looked up, winked at Megan, and went back into his office. He was the sort of person who could quiet a whole room full of rowdy apprentices just by raising an eyebrow; one reason he was the Gospozhyn of the Quarters.
"I've gotta finish here, Serk, then I'll be ready to go." Megan said.
"Okay." He handed Tikhiy the pillow and she ran up the stairs to give it back. Megan saw the twinkle in her eye and caught the pillow when she threw it, the air oofing out of her lungs.
"Ow! You know, I wouldn't do that if you didn't dribble when he or Var come visit."
"OOOOh! I do not dribble!" Tikhiy glared at her, then they grinned and hugged each other. Next to Rilla, she was the closest friend Megan had.
Megan went back in to finish making her bed. Shepilova made a slurping, dribbling sound. "Tikhiy's like Sashi, she drools on what she wants to eat!"
"Shut up!" Tikhiy said amiably. "You were the one making cow-eyes at Vladik!"
"I was not!" She and Tikhiy kept trading friendly insults as they tidied up their parts of the room. The boys had already left, but Megan could see the toes of Yegor's socks poking out of his box and Vladik had just thrown his dirty clothes on top of his unmade bed and closed the door. Master Zyatki'll catch them both for that. Megan hurried because she'd promised Serk she'd go with him to see the presents, and then they'd meet Mama and Papa and Rilla to eat at the Va Zalstva.
She ran down the stairs and hugged Serk hello, then touched the puffy skin around one of his eyes, gently. "You all right? I didn't give you that black eye with the pillow, did—"
He laughed. "No, Meg, I stepped into something that my arms-teacher didn't pull enough." She had to look up to look into his face now, because he'd started getting his growth around his eleventh birthday. She looked into his eyes, wondering about all the bruises lately, but he always brushed it off saying it was normal for a guard 'prentice. His instructor was one of the toughest women Megan had ever heard about, and by the way he talked about her, she could fight wildcats and give them the first two licks.
Serk said that a lot of the younger apprentices, who were all boys, hated her because she was so tough. The guards picked now were mostly men. Papa said that was a Thanish or Arkan idea. They thought that God was a man and didn't like women to fight. That's dumb. Koru's the best God there is and she fought for all of us, right at the beginning. She was the best warrior of them all.
Serk grinned at her. "I'll have to show you the move. It's something you could use in cniffta, you and Rilla."
"Okay." She smiled at his un-swollen eye and put her arm through his. He was wearing his best red tunic and Megan was in her best dark blue, with her hair loose because he thought it was pretty that way. It was long enough now that she could sit on the braids.
Tikhiy leaned around the corner, hanging onto the gargoyle at the top of the stairs as they went out, making kissy noises. Megan leaned back and stuck out her tongue.
It was warm enough that they had their coats slung over their shoulders. It's funny, Megan thought. At the start of the winter, it would have been cold and we'd all be bundling up, but after the winter, when we got used to being a lot colder, this seems really warm. A blue Fchera sat on a bare tree twig, dark blue against a blue sky, singing, "Yes-ter-DAY! Yes-ter-DAY!" Megan tickled Serkai and he chased her down the street. She could have gotten away if she'd wanted, too, 'cause she was sneakier than he was, but that's not what she wanted to do.
It was weird. Serkai was seeing things in straight lines. He wasn't as sneaky as he used to be. I guess that's what he's learning. Zak are better sneaky. We can't walk up to just anyone and hit them straight on the head if they're trying to kill us, we have to whip around and hamstring them. That's what Yolculvik Varik says, even about business deals. Gospozhyn had promoted Varik from Journeyman just last iron-cycle.
They dodged back along Chorniy and down Tsviet Street to the Stairs, because a crowd was already gathered in the square by the Va Zalstva.
They'd figured there wouldn't be many people looking at the presents since it was the last day, and she'd have to complete her assignment from what she could see today.
One could actually see the inner buildings of the Nest better from further out in the City. There was an outside wall that ran from one cliff to die other, with pointed crenels on top, like fangs. Right in the middle was the Iron Gate that wasn't solid but a metal shell on wood. It hadn't been closed for two hundred years, and the only part of it that was kept polished were the hinges, just in case.
Krasniy Street went through the gate and into the tunnel that could be closed off with three other gates all along its length before Gorat Road began.
But out this far one could see the buildings inside the wall. The Sto Solstne window, the height often people, in the Grom Hall was all of glass with an ivory sill, edged in paper-thin shaved stone. At night the glass and crystal chandelier shone there, hung by silver-washed chains, lit with five hundred white wax candles. The light glows through, Megan thought. It looks like the voice of Koru's wind, tike something sacred.
All the doors and windows in the Nest were edged in carved bone or ivory, decreed by a DragonLord, three generations ago. Papa says it suits; bones, like a real is nest.
The domes of the towers were painted, with copper-pointed tips, and the red banners flew like long, whippy tongues licking the sky. The tunnel underneath the Nest was lit with both kraumaks and reflected light from mirrors.
"I don't usually come in this way," Serkai said. "I hardly ever see the public rooms, 'cause I'm usually in the training halls, over that way." He pointed to the smaller gate that led into the wing that melded into the south ridge of the mountain. The shutters of the mountain rooms were all open to let the fresh, spring air in.
"We should come to visit you, Serk."
"No, no. Don't." He stopped and held her by the arm. "If I get too many friends coming to visit from outside, I'll get too many marks against me and then I'm out on my ass."
"Okay, okay, Serkai. I just thought I'd ask. We'd never do anything to get you to lose your place.
"Well, they try hard to wash us out." His mouth was tight, making him look older. They were harder on the guard apprentices than they had to be. Mama says that they try their best to break you and build you up again, but different. I wouldn't like that for me, or Serk. He's losing bits of himself. It's like he doesn't dare laugh because he's afraid of stepping out of line. But he doesn't want to talk about it, not today.
What were called the public halls weren't really public but marked the limit that anybody who wasn't a member of court could go on special days or audience days, but that hadn't been allowed since Ranion's grandfather's time. Now the way in was to bribe or know someone already at court. Megan ran her hand along the stone banister, liking the soapy-smooth feel.
The first gift room was an animal garden, and the air was full of chirps and bleats and whistles and stranger noises.
"Koru, Serk, look at all the cages!" They wandered slowly down the carpet path between the thick, braided ropes. There were guards everywhere to make sure no one would try to step off the path, or touch Ranion and Avritha's precious beasts.
"Yeah." Serk sneezed. "It usually doesn't smell like this." It wasn't bad, just hot and a little like cat and a little like horse. Megan ran over to a small cage to one side.
"Snowcat kittens!" They rolled and squealed and played pounce in their litter of cotton scraps. Just past them was a cormarenc chick, taller than Serkai, just losing its fluff. It grawked and croaked and stabbed its beak into a barrel with fish in it, splashing water around itself. They stood well out of its reach, holding their noses. It let a big gob of shit go that stank until a slave shoveled it up and carried it away. As the man came in reach, the chick strained against the collar on i
ts long, thin neck, trying to kill him with its beak. "Wouldn't want to have to keep that," Serkai said, a little nasally.
"It wouldn't fit in the house." Megan giggled, and they sidled past it to the small bamboo cages full of singing birds, spotted and striped and tiny, smaller than the cup of Megan's hand. At the opposite side of the room from the cats were horses, a stallion with his nostrils flared and red, and his mare and her foal, from the Aenir. "The foal's cute, but he's just going to grow up to be a horse!" Megan said disgustedly. Serkai just rolled his eyes.
"I like the third room best," Serkai said. "I've seen them before, but I like looking again. But I'm not going to tell you why, you'll see." Then he looked around. "Hey, it's Ellach on duty, come on!"
"What? Serk should you…"
He whispered to the guard standing there with his one gauntlet on his dart-caster. Megan swallowed and followed. It was going to be hard when Serkai was a guard himself. Nobody talks to them unless they have to.
"… just for a second," Serkai was saying. The guard wasn't as old as Megan had thought he was. He's trying to grow a mustache and it isn't working.
The guard cleared his throat, looked around, then said, "As long as no one sees you." He jerked his head at the fuzzy-plumed tail thing. "Go on. You owe me one."
"Come on, Megan," Serkai said, and ducked under the rope. "This one's real tame and only eats ants anyway. Come on, quick, before anyone else comes through!"
Megan nodded cautiously at the guard, who ignored her, and she followed Serkai, scrambling through to pet the anteater. It was both fuzzy and rough and smelled like a stepped-on ant's nest. Its tongue is sticky. Megan had to peel it off her wrist as the guard hissed at them to get out of there. The servant who looked after the beast helped her and they ran, giggling. They were on the proper side of rope as a Middle Quarter family came around the end cage that had white-faced monkeys in it.
Right at the door to the second room was a tank full of water with a plant floating in it. It had thin white roots coiled tight in with the green ones. Next to the tank was a bowl with thumb-sized bits of raw meat in it. "Here," said Serkai. "Try this." He picked up a bit of meat and waited until she did too. "Throw it in." As the bloody meat hit the water, the white roots snapped like springs and grabbed.
"Ick," Megan said. "It's like Gospozhyn Farsht's sundew that catches flies." She threw her lump of meat. "It's neat, but still ick. What are Avritha and Ranion going to do with all of this?"
Serkai hissed at her and she shrugged. "The Woyvodaana and the Woyvode, then," she corrected herself.
"I guess they'll make the menagerie bigger," Serkai said. "More space we have to keep guarded."
"Yeah."
The next gift room was down a marble corridor, with mirror sculptures hanging from the ceiling that turned and moved in the kraumak light. "They're like silent wind-chimes," Megan said. "But I think I like wind-chimes better. They aren't spooky and cold." Serkai looked up at them and shrugged again. Megan stared. Last year he would have noticed that they were cold first.
The next room was so bright she almost couldn't see in the light pouring in the windows. It was full of bright things, all carefully displayed.
"That's a Yeoli sword," Serkai said, pointing to a wall that was bare except for the sword and its fittings in green and blue enamel. "A kraila." Nearby was a glass case holding a weapon she'd never heard of. It had a tube on a wooden handle and three brass and paper things next to it, labeled "Shot-Thrower—Nubuah." Megan had never heard of Nubuah before either. "It throws those, farther than an arrow or dart. I never saw it work," he said wistfully. "But I heard about it from our commander, she did."
Megan pulled him past it to look at the wedding bed bigger than Megan's family's room in the Flats, round and carved like a dragon biting its own tail, with red satin curtains embroidered in silver and sable blankets piled high on feather pillows. "I'll bet they didn't want to show the Thanish wool carpets," Megan said. "They're bright, but, well, I think they're ugly,' she whispered, looking at the wide red and blue stripes. "There's so much stuff! Who dusts it all?"
"Servants. Don't be dumb." She poked him and he glared at her, so she tossed her hair out of her eyes and looked at the mahogany and gold brooms for the bride-pair to sweep out bad luck, instead of at him.
The big wood table next to the bed had shells carved all around the edges, inlaid with real hammered silver. "That's an Enchian-style table," Megan said. On the table stood fancy jars of perfumes and ointments. They were rose quartz and red or blue glass, and one that she thought was a tiny amethyst but couldn't get any closer to see. "Won't the perfumes all dry up before anybody uses them? A person can only wear so much smelly stuff at one time," she said. "Even if they didn't bathe once a day, like they can."
"They'll use them, maybe, and if not, well, they're wedding presents. You don't have to use all of them."
"Don't be a jerk, Serk. My folks did."
"Yeah, well, so did mine, but our kin weren't Zingas."
"No shit. My feet are starting to hurt."
Next to the table was a large open space with sculptures in it; one of Ranion and Avritha, him standing and her sitting next to him. Megan plucked at Serkai's elbow, whispering, "I guess the sculptor did that to make Ranion look taller." He poked her back, grinned, then wiped it off his face.
"Avritha's taller than he is, but then she's older. He might have some more growing to do." On pedestals all around there were other sculptures; amber and jade and turquoise. There were paintings that made the bridal pair more beautiful than people could be.
There were rows of mannequins wearing furs and silks and satins to show off the new clothes and bolts of satin embroidered with gold and black and every color of the rainbow. "They could wear something different every hour of the day and never repeat in an iron-cycle, I bet," Megan said.
"Yeah, I didn't think there was that much silk in all the world," he answered. There was a pain under Megan's chestbone and she put her hand up to it. I guess it's because they're so lovely. I didn't think that something pretty could hurt like that.
Megan stopped to rub one foot then the other. This was only the second room. After the clothes, came the cases of jewelry. "Those are as big as my fist!" she exclaimed, pointing at the diamonds surrounded by ropes of rubies cut as smooth as eyeballs. In those cases there's a rosewood and gold mrik set from Laka, and a gold and glass chess set from Arko. "I won't have time to see it all. I want to. It's all so beautiful."
"Don't stop too long here," Serkai pulled her on. "You stay too long in front of one case and the guards and thief-sniffers get nervous." They stopped in front of a rainbow disk from before the Fire that must have been an ornament; it had a hole in the middle so you could hang it in the light.
Serkai started grinning like a fool again, so Megan turned from the disk and tilted her head questioningly at him. He hid a smirk and pointed, whispering, "Ranion's favorite."
Megan almost fell over laughing when she saw what was on a table in isolated glory. "It's so ugly," she whispered.
"Shhh. It's his favorite!" he answered, putting one hand up to hide his grin.
The sculpture was solid gold, a man's member as long as Megan's arm, shaped like the marriage blessing cakes except there wasn't a corresponding yoni. It had emeralds and sapphires set all over the balls; one diamond at its tip. "No wonder it's all by itself, it might attack something else," Megan whispered to Serkai.
There were three guards around it looking bored and uncomfortable. Serkai giggled and turned it to a cough behind his hand. One of the guards glared at them, but his mouth twitched, too. Serkai grabbed Megan by the arm and dragged her out so they wouldn't embarrass themselves.
Once they were out in the corridor to the next room they howled, leaning on each other so they didn't fall over. Serkai pretended walking as if the gold lingam were his own parts, leaning over backward and straddle-legged. Megan pretended to faint at the sight, and both of them laughed so hard they wer
e crying. He hasn't laughed a lot lately, I think. That gold thing is so big; so ugly. It doesn't look like Papa's or Ivor's or Serkai's. Serkai said, "If any man had one that big, he'd pass out when he wanted to make love!" And they giggled again.
"Toys!" Megan darted in to the third room. "Toys for the heir when he or she gets born!"
"Shhh!" Serkai caught her and put his finger over her mouth. "The heir has to be male! Zarizan says so."
"That's not right!" Megan hissed back indignantly, standing in the midst of a family of stuffed lions. "That's a Thanish idea! Girls can be Woyvode, too!"
"Will you shut up!" Serkai looked honestly scared. "Meg, don't say that here, okay?"
She glared at him as if he could do anything about that. "Okay. But he's wrong!"
Serkai walked under the stuffed giraffe, whose stubby horns touched the hall's ceding. "Yeah, he is, but I'm a guard—I'll be a guard and can't say things like that, or even hear them."
"Okay, Serk. I understand. Look, I'm sorry."
"That's okay. Lets look at the rest of the toys, okay?"
"Yeah."
There were more toys than any ten shops or stalls at the Market all put together: clockwork monkeys and a rocking pony with a red-silk halter and saddle, enameled building blocks and toy swords and little suits of armor and little two-fangs with wooden ends, and more than she could remember, later.
She walked out holding Serkai's hand, feeling as if she'd been asleep and dreaming. When they came out of the tunnel it didn't seem right somehow that the sun should still be shining, that the outside should still be the same. That's weird. You could forget that outside even existed. Megan's stomach rumbled, reminding her there would be beef served today, beginning the first day of the wedding feast. She tugged at Serkai's hand saying, "Do they feed you meat in the Guard?"
"Yeah, but usually only pork, let's go!" They ran down Krasnry. What's behind is a dream, something that's too bright to think about, when I know what's real. She sniffed the wind blowing from the Va Zalstva that smelled of hot fat, ignoring the odor of horse dung in the street.
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