They found Mama and Papa and Rilla at the corner of Zalstva Square and Krasniy. It's a good thing that we had a meeting place set out or we would never have found anybody.
Megan hugged Papa and Mama first. When she hugged Rilla, her cousin whispered, "Meg, can I talk to you later?"
"Sure, Rilla. Whenever you need to."
"Okay. Thanks."
Her mama and papa both had new tunics, and that made Megan feel good because it meant there was more money to spare. Since Megan was apprenticed, they didn't have to feed and dress her. I guess that helps, Megan thought. But Rilla stays with them whenever Aunt Marte goes on a binge.
The Va Zalstva arena could seat forty thousand, dug into the mountain, a high, white stone wall with the entrance gates built around the street side. At one time the stone was cleaned every Hand, but that was when it had been used more often. The feasting would go on all day and night until everyone was fed or the food ran out, which might not be until the wedding a Hand from now. The first DragonLord had tried to hold blood-sport games but someone had finally managed to assassinate her without flooding the City. Bear-baitings were still held, and the rat pits were used for the executions of criminals who didn't deserve beheading or strangling.
Today the pits were covered over with gratings, and though you could sometimes smell the rats, mostly the smell was beef and bread. There were even barrels of butter lined up on platforms on the sand next to the bread. Kievir Anatoli and his family were honoring the people by serving first, a holdover from the time of the Republic. They don't like it, but it's an old tradition. All the nine Kievir and their families are going to serve. Even Ranion and Avritha are going to serve once.
Kievira Anatoli was standing by the first spitted cow with a long knife and two-tined fork, her sleeves rolled back and her face red from the heat. There were twenty fire-pits in the sand with cows roasting, and when she finished carving one, a servant would go on to carve the next while they put a fresh one on to roast.
After Kievir Anatoli cut a thick slab of bread and it was buttered by his Heir, Lilovyi, a piece of beef as thick as the first joint of Megan's thumb got put on top of that. The only one who looked as if she enjoyed what she was doing was the family's Heir buttering the bread, so Megan smiled at her and she smiled back.
The juices dribbled on Megan's hands and she juggled it from hand to hand, trying to roll her sleeves out of the way. There was even beer if you brought your own cup, and Mama and Papa had brought one for the three of them to share.
They sat in the spring sunshine on the benches carved into the mountain with everyone else, and ate and talked and toasted the wedding.
"Mikail insisted, the rumor goes," Ness said, biting off another piece of meat. "Ranion didn't want to feed us. If he didn't though, the City'd be up in arms. What luck we've had this last little while would be ruined if that happened." Lixand nodded and handed the children a cloth to wipe their chins. "Avritha apparently supported her father. She might moderate the young Dragon."
"Well, he's young and impulsive; shell steady him down once they're married."
Ness raised her cup and around them others followed suit. "As long as Mikail doesn't get too used to wielding power just through his daughter," someone muttered. There was a second's silence as everyone got very interested with their meal, then turned the talk to something safer.
Megan told them all about the toys and the thing that Ranion liked so much, and Ness and Lixand rolled their eyes at each other while Rilla giggled. Then Serkai and Rilla and Megan all went to the amphitheater because there was a wedding show being put on free, while the adults decided to spend their afternoon just walking.
The show was okay, not bad for something free, but a little dull. Serkai had to be back to his barracks by the late afternoon guard change, so the two girls walked him back to the south gate as the Garrison drums rumbled to life behind the Nest wall.
"Bye, Serk. I'll come drag you out next Hand-ending. We'll watch the procession with the rest of the old pack, okay?" Megan shouted, holding her hands over her ears.
His face was getting longer the closer they got to the barracks. There's more going on than he'll tell us. "Okay," he yelled back. "I'd like that. Goddess guard."
"Don't let the Darkness jump on you."
He grinned and went in, waving.
Rilla and Megan walked down to Climbing Road Bridge and sat on the stone railings under the arches. "You wanted to talk?"
The younger girl nodded. "Yeah. I don't want to ask your Ma and Da for any more help, but mam says she still doesn't have enough saved to 'prentice me somewhere. I think she's a liar and your da does, too. Mam wants me to learn how to be a Canter like her. That way she won't have to pay the fee."
"How can I help?" I'll help if I can."
"I've been prigging stuff from her chest when she's too drunk to know—"
"Shit, she's that bad?"
"Yeah. I don't tell your da much. It doesn't do any good, Meg. She cries and gets soppy and gooey-mothery and 'nothing's too good for my baby.' You know—lasts as long as she's sorry; stays dry for a cycle or two, then blows everything."
"Yeah." Rilla was pulling mortar out and dropping it in the water, plink. Megan leaned her head back and looked up at the old carvings. Aunt Marte and her drinking made her tired. "Hey, not that I need to know, but does she still try to beat you?"
Rilla didn't answer for a while. The wind blew from the lake and a man down-city somewhere was singing "Young Widow's Ballad."
Rilla sighed and shifted on the railing. The sun was going down red, tinting the clouds pink and purple; purple fading down into the black shadows between buildings.
"Yeah. She still beats me if I don't run first. But I've always gotta go home,'s not so bad as all that." She leaned away, as if from a comforting arm, though Megan hadn't moved. "Last time…" Rilla gulped and wiped tears. "Last time she yelled that I'd broken her hand and that she'd fix me. When she grabbed me as I got out the window, I ripped my tunic. When I came back a couple days later, she belted me for ripping it, but that was better than getting my hand mashed."
"Rilla!" Megan hugged her though Rilla didn't want her to at first and pulled away, but that almost pitched them off the bridge rail, so she hugged back. She cried for a while, then made Megan promise not to tell her mama and papa. I should tell but they'd just talk to Aunt more, and talking doesn't help. They couldn't take Rilla away, and the only way to help would be to get her apprenticed to someone other than Marte. Shit.
'Rilla, how much have you got?"
"Um, well, last time she got drunk I got enough to buy 'maranth and groats and other stuff like that. She spends most of it on wine."
"Oh." Rilla was trying so hard to be tough and just say everything without feeling it. Mama and Papa are probably helping all they can anyway, without knowing, and I know that Aunt Marte would, have to sign any apprentice agreement, even if we got the money. But there's gotta be something I can do. Perhaps Gospozhyn Yarishk could help somehow.
"Rilla, I'm going to talk to my master. Maybe he can tell us what to do."
"You think so?"
"I think so." Megan nodded firmly and wiped Rilla's face with her hand. "It can't hurt, 'cause he won't tell her and something good might come out of it. You feel better for crying?"
She nodded. "Okay, 'm glad you're here, Megan."
" 'love you, coz. I'll have to wait until I go back to the Guildhall next Hand to talk to him, after the wedding."
" 'kay."
Ivar and Arvi and Marin and Serkai and Rilla and Megan were all lined up sitting along the top of Tsik's studio on Market Square. They'd tried to get a seat on the glass-blower's, but that was too far away to see the procession, and the buttery owner had chased them off his roof.
Tsik was an artist who made his money teaching rich kids art, renting studios to other artists, and trying to "capture the spirit of the city" with his brushes. He drank a lot and cried a lot and worked like a fiend sometimes
. Whenever he got disgusted with the world, he would chuck his art things out the window and swear he'd go back to something safer, or steadier paying, like masonry, as he was trained. Tsik and his husband sat in the window one floor down with sketch pads.
Earlier this morning it had rained, and might rain again; if it didn't it would be a sticky, cold-muggy spring day that made all the clothes you were wearing feel moldy and cold at the same time. The swallows flicked in and out of their nests under the eaves beneath the children's boots, and the chicks complained every time as if their parents hadn't brought good enough bugs. Megan slapped at an early mosquito on her neck.
Ivar, who was nearest the corner, nudged Marin and she stood up to see. "They're coming!' From Koru's Temple, high on the south cliff, they could see the ribbon of color coming down the road between the crowds lining the way. Everyone who got fed is happy enough to cheer and sing and throw budding branches down in front of their horses.
The City banners came first, with the DragonLord's banner taking second place because Ranion hadn't risen to the throne yet. The banner-bearers wore all black armor, shiny and hard like ants. The Zarizan would come before Zingas Avritha because of his higher rank.
After the City and Woyvode's banners came his personal guard. Behind them came two naZak women, tall as the bottom of the banners, both with red hair and black skin, wearing wooden slave-links, leading a pair of snowleopard kittens each.
"He's a giant!" Rilla yelled excitedly, leaning out to point. The slave was twice as tall as the tallest person in the crowd and his skin was so black it shone like ink. Did he color it? His hair is a green mane. He must have colored it. Did he?"
Ivar hauled Rilla back. "I couldn't even lift that spear he's carrying, or the shield." The spear had gold ribbons on it and a shield shaped like a lace-shuttle, all fringed in hair or dry grass. "He can't be real," Megan said. "But there's no wavery edge that would mean he’s a manrauq-made image." He left footprints and limped. She leaned out, trying to see more clearly, and Serkai caught the back of her tunic so she wouldn't fall. The warrior looked up and smiled. "He can't be real! His teeth are pointed."
After the black man came more guards with their two-fangs canted at a precise angle; some were drummers and some carried small hand bells. At the end the big bells came; tube bells so long that it took two people to sound, one holding the frame while the other walked backward, ringing it with a mallet. The thunder of the big drums and all the bells ringing echoed between the buildings, drowning out people's cheering. Megan covered her ears, feeling the noise tremble in the pit of her stomach.
"There's the Bear priest!" Marin called, pointing to the man, wearing plain red linen, walking alone in the procession, leaning on a carved staff.
"And there's the Bear!" The image, with a honey-pot before it, was carried by twenty people dressed in blue. There was a long gap in the procession and the children ran to the corner of the building to see why, but Tsik yelled from below.
"My plaster's falling, sit down you young halyions!"
Just out of their sight, at a bend in the road, there was a roaring and someone screaming. A giant spotted bear lunged into sight, dragging some of the people who had been trying to lead it. It reared up and swung a couple of people almost off their feet, swatting at them with black, dagger-like claws. Foam splattered its fur, spilling through an iron-strapped muzzle. It smelled like a dropped crate of rotten eggs.
Arvi liked the bunch of balika players and dancers, though both she and Ivar liked the yellow witch walking in front of the Royal household with a ball of light just over his arms and head. "He's holding the sun." On such a dull day it shone very bright.
Regent Mikail came next, riding a grey horse with a red harness. The horse pranced and half-reared while he sat its back like a grey-dressed statue. "The horse doesn't dare disobey him. Nobody does," Megan said. As he passed below them, the lowering clouds started to spit rain.
"Nobody disobeys him," Serkai said quietly. "Except the gods."
Ranion had a white and gold carriage like a boat, drawn by white horses with red eyes. The Zarizan sat surrounded by red flowers, his garland crooked across his forehead, and Megan could see a red wine stain on his wedding tunic. "Do pearls stain?" Megan wondered aloud. "If this were my wedding, I wouldn't look scared or sulky." Arvi laughed.
Ranion's cloak was made out of red and green hummingbird feathers. "He waves like he's wagging a dead fish on the end of his arm," Rilla said, and Megan poked her. The horses rolled their eyes and fidgeted, trying to balk because of the bear smell, but the coachman managed to keep them going, though they snorted and flared bright pink nostrils.
Marin squealed. "Lace! Oh, look, look! A whole bolt of lace."
Twenty bearers on each side carried the unrolled bolt of lace as wide as the street; silver flowers with tiny shells, which shone even on this dull a day. "I hope it doesn't rain harder. That might ruin it," Marin said.
Arvi shrugged. "Sometimes the weather is too heavy even for the most powerful witch."
There were more guards with the Regent's red and silver house banners. Behind them came the bride.
She drove her own hand-polished wood troikamal, the three matched chestnuts stepping as high as her father's horse. Her over-tunic, in bride's red, filled the seat; the lace train was edged with tiny diamonds with two children on matching chestnut ponies to bear it, careful not to pull. Her hair was unbound, crowned with roses. "She looks as cold as her father," Megan said, and this time Serkai prodded her though she hadn't said it loudly.
More dancers followed and another powerful witch, a green witch who had images of mother animals with cubs all around to grant the new pair lots of children.
The crowd closed behind the last guards, still singing "Kha'khaya."
"Let's go in. It's really starting to rain," Ivar said. Below, the street looked more grey now that the colors were all gone past. "I hope it isn't too muddy on the plateau for them by the time they get there."
"My papa said the light-sky show might not be held if it rained, Megan said. "I wanted to see that. Mama heard that the Wizard was going to make a sky-dragon with light and pictures of Koru and the Bear and sunbursts and all sorts of things."
They clattered down the skylight ladder, talking. "Maybe it’ll stop raining before tonight. Maybe the weather-witches can push it away. I hope so. I like manrauq shows almost better than the toys," Arvi said.
"You bunch of heavy horse-feet! Come down out of the wet and drink some chai," Tsik said.
"Sorry about your plaster, Tsik," Serkai said- "We didn't mean to stomp it down." Megan looked for chunks on the floor but didn't see any.
"Well, I suppose I shouldn't have yelled quite that loudly," he said, closing his skylight.
They sat and drank chai and talked about the procession while the rain beat on the glass skylight. I don't think I'd like to get married on a wet day.
Chapter Eleven
Further Income: Fourteen bales of wool through Aenir'sford. Lading and carrying charges: 3 silver Fangs, paid. One crate glass ingots through Brahvniki. Lading and carrying charges: 3 silver Fangs, 2 copper Fangs, paid.
It was high summer and so hot in the Apprentice Hall that trickles of sweat oozed down Megan's back as she bent over her books. She chewed on the end of her pen and considered doing the last of her extra work on the roof where it would be cooler under the potted tree, but shrugged to herself and bent over the book again, deciding to finish here.
Eighteen bags black-rock. Lading and carrying charges, vessel absorbed: paid.
Tax and customs: 1 silver Claw, paid. Seals received.
Profit on original cargo: 1 gold Claw, 6 silver, 5 copper.
She didn't like summer as much when she had extra work and couldn't just go jump in the Lake. Three whole days to Hand-ending. She couldn't wait.
Shareholders demanding payment on delivery, charges: 18%, 10% & 5% of profit, respectively. Captain/shareholder: 67%…
"Megan," Ma
ster Zyatki said from the door, "your mother sent a message that you're needed at home."
"At home? Why? What's wrong?"
"I don't know, Megan. You have leave to go. I'll pass on your excuses to your teachers."
"Thank you, Master."
"Run along then." Megan slapped the book shut and tossed it on top of the others on her shelf, yanked her sandals on. She pulled on the tie holding her hair back, to tighten it, as she ran down the stairs. There weren't many people around in the mid-afternoon heat. They'd mostly be somewhere cool inside the mountain rooms or under trees or snoozing. A fruit-seller languidly waved a fly-whisk over his baskets of berries, looking up under his hat as she ran by.
It's hot. What's happened? Is it a problem with Marte? Is it Rilla? It's probably that. Koru, Goddess, keep us all safe. Running like this, without knowing exactly what was going on, reminded her of the long-ago run to get Matte's help, even though it was bright midday instead of midnight.
She tried to reassure herself, but if the news were good her mother wouldn't just have sent a note summoning her home. She could hear her steps echo all the way across the bridge.
She ran again, holding her side against the ache of a stitch. A flock of pigeons burst out of her way as she turned into Cooper's Lane. The Flats doors were open to let in all the breeze, all the galleries opened. Everyone from the Peach was out lounging, but she didn't stop to wave. She almost forgot to jump the fifth step down where Blue always slept, stumbled, and he climbed the railing, yowling at her.
"Mama, I'm home, what's wrong?" The door would be open; she'd hear. Shen looked out.
"Megan, good, you're here. Meg, your Papa…"
Megan stopped for a second, not wanting to be rude, but she could hear her mama crying, so she squeezed by.
"Megan,' Shen said helplessly.
Ness was sitting on her cushion, hands over her face, rocking. Megan knelt next to her, threw her arms around her. Papa? "Bylashka, they took him." Ness clutched her daughter. "He was just where he was supposed to be. He had a paid license to tell stories on that spot. Signed. But they just took him."
Shadow's Daughter Page 17