by Ken Scholes
“You’re done for now,” Ire said. “I will find you proper attire and check on Isaak.”
And now, it had been more than an hour since the woman had left her here. She looked down the length of the alley from the shadowy dead end where she crouched. The wall behind her was still cool from her sweat, but her clothes were dry now as the temperature climbed.
She felt the slightest breeze against her cheek. “Hail, Martyna.”
Marta inclined her head in the direction of the Blood Guard’s voice. “I was getting worried,” she said.
A bundle of cloth appeared on the ground before her. “Put these on,” Ire said. “Quickly.”
There was a sense of urgency in her voice, and Marta stooped to pick up the robes of a Daughter of Ahm acolyte. “Where did you find these?”
Ire avoided the question. “We need to hurry. Isaak and Neb are approaching my father.”
Marta started pulling her other clothing off and felt Ire’s hands firmly upon her shoulders. “There is no time for that. Put them on over what you’re wearing.”
She is scared. Marta pulled the robes and cowl on. They were lightweight, but combined with what she already wore, the heat would be stifling and her mobility would be hampered.
She felt the hands upon her shoulders again, and this time Ire’s voice was nearby and at head level with Marta as she crouched before the girl. “Now we walk. We need to find someplace safe to put you until whatever storm is coming has passed. And then I need to see how I might assist them in their work.”
Marta wasn’t going to ask, and when the words came out, it was more a statement than a question. “Against your father.”
“Yes. Now let’s go.”
She felt the string slip over her wrist, then felt it go taut as Ire pulled her along. Marta matched her pace to that of the Blood Guard and tried to memorize her surroundings as they emerged from the alley into weak sunlight. This was her first visit to a large city, and she found it overwhelming despite the quietness of the streets. She couldn’t imagine how much more overwhelming it would be if it bustled with the activity and noise of life.
They moved down the street at a brisk pace before slipping into another alley. Ire pulled her up short just inside. “If we get separated for more than an hour, return to Behemoth and I will meet you there if I can.” Marta could tell by the woman’s voice that she crouched before her again. “But you need to understand that Isaak and I may not come back.”
Marta nodded. “I know.” But acknowledging it made her stomach hurt, and she had to believe that Isaak would return for her no matter what. She could not afford to think otherwise without her world losing its meaning.
“Behemoth is your only way home unless we come back,” Ire said, her tone severe.
Marta resisted answering again and focused instead on trying to memorize her surroundings. She wasn’t sure she could find her way back to the docks. And she also resisted telling the woman that Behemoth could not carry her home because Isaak was her home now and if he did not return, she became homeless.
They continued moving until they reached an alley that opened on a squat two-story building. The line went tight long before Marta left the shadows, and Ire Li Tam’s mouth was near her ear when she whispered, “That is where my father is hiding with the Lunarists.” Marta felt a hand firm upon her neck, swiveling her head to the right. “That alley there is where Isaak and the others are waiting.” Ire turned her head yet again, this time to the left. “That alley will take you to the main thoroughfare that we took from the docks. You should be able to find your way back to Behemoth from there. Do you understand?”
Marta nodded.
“Good. Now we wait.”
They’d not waited long when a robed figure stepped into the wide street to approach the building. She recognized the robes and the limp instantly and suddenly felt a wrongness in the moment that chilled her stomach and caught her breath in her throat. No, Isaak. Don’t go.
As if hearing her, the metal man stopped and cast his red eyes toward the alley where she crouched in shadow. When he did, she started and pulled at the running line to sure that Ire was near. Instead of a tug in reply, the thread hung loose.
Isaak continued toward the building’s main door, and Marta held her breath as he brought up his metal fist and then knocked—three times—upon the door. “Lord Tam,” his voice intoned, “I’ve come to parley with you.”
Without waiting for an answer, Isaak opened the door and slipped inside. When it closed behind him, Marta saw movement near the mouth of the alley where the others hid. A tall, slender man stepped from the shadows. He had long, white hair and wore a suit of silver that clung to his thin frame and reminded her of Isaak’s smooth, mirror-like metal skin. She suspected it was the Homeseeker, Neb, and he watched the door Isaak had gone through with a worried brow.
Marta wasn’t sure how long she sat and watched, but when it happened, it was sudden and it made her jump. First, there was a scream from above as something large dropped from the sky in a tornado of wings and claws. And as it landed with another blood-chilling shriek, the door bust outward and Isaak leapt from the building with an old man upon his back and raced toward her. The old man had one arm around Isaak’s throat, a long silver rod tucked beneath his other.
Marta pressed herself back against the wall, trying to close her eyes but unable to as they moved past her, gaining speed. There were shouts now as others poured out of the building and scattered. All the while, the kin-dragon pressed Neb and the others, keeping them from pursuit.
She felt a hand grab her arm. “Open wide.”
Marta opened her mouth and tasted the bitterness of the powder Ire dabbed upon her tongue. Then she felt the Blood Guard’s thumb as it smeared her forehead. It hit her stomach first, and she fought the urge to throw up even as her head began to pound.
Then the running line was reattached and she was once again doing her best to stay on her feet and keep up with Ire Li Tam.
And try to understand what just happened.
But Marta knew—and hated knowing with each slap of her feet against the cobblestones—that whether or not she understood it, whatever it was could not possibly be good.
Chapter
17
Jin Li Tam
Sunlight streamed through large crystalline windows when the sound of children playing brought Jin Li Tam awake. Her first sensation was the sharp blade of cutting sorrow that her own child—Jakob, the Child of Promise—was gone. But then a new awareness seized her and she sat upright quickly, the sheets falling away.
“Jakob?”
She heard a familiar laugh. Then, a girl’s giggle—one she also recognized—joined in. Small hands slapped at the door, followed by a brief knock.
“Great Mother?” There was hesitation at the use of the title, and it was not a voice Jin recognized. “Lady Tam?” She covered herself as the door swung open a crack. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but Jakob is very excited to see you. Amara, too.” The face was young and scarred; she knew she’d seen it before. With the others when she’d arrived, she was certain.
Yes. She remembered now. All of them had met her there at the edge of the quicksilver pond, and then the New Espiran medicos and a stern female physician had looked her over, checking her for injuries from the crash, she assumed. They’d spoken quickly in a language she could not follow, softer and more fluid than the Y’Zirite tongue she’d become competent in. But that memory—and all other thought—fell away at the sight of Jakob leaping for the bed and scrambling to find a purchase. She reached for him and pulled him to her, burying her face in his hair to inhale the scent of him.
The woman came in. Behind her, Aedric stood and managed to look somber in the light-colored cotton trousers and silk shirt he wore. “You probably won’t remember me,” she said. It took Jin Li Tam this long to realize the woman was speaking V’Ral. “We were all pretty disoriented when we arrived, as well.” Amara hugged at the woman’s leg, smiling at
Jin Li Tam from behind her. “I’m Chandra. I was the Vessel of Grace before Lord Tam saved me.”
She was vaguely aware of the woman’s role, and her eyebrows went up as she swallowed the rage and the retort that the mention of her father raised up in her. Instead, she took the woman’s offered hand. “You are Amara’s mother.”
Chandra nodded. “Though she was taken from me early and given to the Daughters while I was prepared for my ministry.”
Jin heard bitterness in the woman’s voice and identified with it. For the briefest moment, she thought of answering and held the words in her mouth. My father convinced me he murdered my child. Then she swallowed them and blinked at the sudden tears as Jakob poked at her face with his fingers. “Mama sad?”
He said it in V’Ral, then said it again in Landlish. “Sad?”
She pulled him closer and closed her eyes. “No,” she said. “Not anymore.”
“I think we’ll leave the two of you alone for a bit,” Chandra said as she lifted Amara up into her arms.
Jin Li Tam nodded. “Thank you.”
“The council chief will want to meet you soon. There are clothes laid out for you.” Then Chandra pulled the door closed.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there playing with Jakob. It felt like hours, and it wasn’t time enough. But she marked the shift in him as he grew hungry and finally climbed up from the bed to see what awaited her.
She dressed quickly in the cottons and silks that reminded her of the loose-fitting wear she’d grown up with in the near-tropical heat of the Emerald Coasts. Near the clothes, she found that someone had laid out bread and cheese and fruits of a variety that were unfamiliar to her on a small table in the sitting area. She fixed a plate and took it back to the bed, handing Jakob a piece of cheese.
“Mara?” She looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out which language he was asking in, before she recognized the question. He’s asking for his friend. Of course, it made sense. He was accustomed to having meals with the others now.
“We’ll go find them soon,” she said.
After eating something that was too tart to be a pear, a slice of heavy whole-grain bread, and a handful of berries that tasted like plums, Jin Li Tam slipped on the low-cut walking shoes that waited by her door. Then, holding hands with Jakob, she let herself out into a common room. It had two doors on each wall leading, she assumed, into guest chambers similar to her own. Aedric waited there on a sofa of unfamiliar material. He stood at the sight of her and inclined his head. “Lady Tam,” he said. Then he winked at the boy. “Lord Jakob.”
“First Captain Aedric,” she said, returning his gesture of respect. “How do you come to be here with my son?” Jin felt anger beneath her words despite the relief.
Aedric’s gaze was level, and his words and face held no regret. “I helped your father take the children, Lady.”
“And then we,” another voice said from the opposite corner of the room, “took the children and the people with them away from your father and brought them here.” A woman in silver robes stepped through an open door, and Jin Li Tam’s eyes narrowed as she tried to place her familiarity. It was the woman who had met her when she’d first arrived. She’d introduced herself as an administrator with the New Espiran Council.
She smiled as she approached and extended a hand. “Welcome again to New Espira, Lady Tam.” Then, as if reading her mind. “Elyna Gras. I’m the elected chief administrator for the council that governs our mission.”
“And the one responsible for taking my son away from me?”
The woman met her eyes, and the humor in them surprised her. But there was compassion in the woman’s voice. “Oh no. That was all your father’s doing. But I did give the order to bring your son and the others here so that we could keep them safe in the midst of the Y’Zirite collapse.” She paused. “Please keep in mind that I also gave the order to bring you here, Great Mother. That order cost me a ship and a dear friend in Commander Pardeau.”
The commander’s face flashed before her for a moment and slowed Jin’s search for a reply. Her anger sputtered and sparked but couldn’t hold. Finally, she found the only words that felt right in the moment. “Thank you,” she said. She heard the slightest break in her voice as she said it.
Administrator Gras inclined her head. “You are most welcome. Though there is another who interceded on your behalf that you may find more worthy of your gratitude. Usually the council does not intervene in such direct ways, and I must admit that I was initially opposed to the”—she paused here to search for the best word—“to the suggested course of action.”
Another who interceded on my behalf. Jin furrowed her brow. “I will hope to have the pleasure of thanking them.”
When the woman in robes suddenly clapped, Jin started and Jakob burst out in laughter. “Yes,” she said. “It’s why I’ve come. I thought you’d be awake. She is awake, too, so it is a good time.”
The way the woman spoke piqued Jin’s curiosity. “I would be pleased to meet her.”
Administrator Gras smiled. “Good. Let’s go then.” She looked to Chandra. “We should bring the children to her. She’s been waiting.”
Aedric started to stand, and the woman’s hand settled onto his shoulder. “I think just the mothers and their children this time, Captain. They’ll be in good care.”
Jin noticed the flash of anger in his eyes but pretended not to as she moved to the door with Jakob in tow.
She wasn’t certain what she’d expected, but stepping out into the New Espiran late morning challenged every other day she had stepped out into. Absolutely nothing felt right about it.
The bright light she’d seen penetrating the crystalline windows came from a sun that was too small and hung suspended above them. And the villa they occupied sat on patch of close-cropped grass at the edge of a river that sloped gently upward to a horizon lost in haze. It was so disorienting that she found herself clutching Jakob’s hand more tightly. Still, she forced herself to look around. She saw stands of trees and other villas and a landscape that rolled out and slowly up. Farther out, she saw light reflecting from the silver of an airship as it made its way across the sky.
But what kind of sky? It wasn’t like any she’d seen before. It was haze and light without blue and without clouds.
She looked back at the administrator, and the compassion on her face told Jin Li Tam that she understood. The woman’s voice was gentle when she spoke. “It is difficult to adjust to,” she said. “Some of our people have found the outside world overwhelming in its differences from our home here. We’ve even had to bring home field-workers and reassign them.”
“What is this place?”
“The People—the ones you refer to as the Younger Gods—established places called crèches. Your Named Lands occupies one. The Empire of Y’Zir occupies another two.” A guarded look passed over her face, and her smile pulled slightly at the corner of her mouth. “There are others. The Last Weeping Czar, Frederico, and his Lady Amal Y’Zir guided our people to this one millennia ago when he established our charter and launched our great work.”
Jin looked around. She saw few people, but those she did see wore loose-fitting garments made of a type of silk she was unfamiliar with. The cut of the clothing was odd, but so were the colors. And the designs of the scattered buildings, even the way the trees grew and the style of paving stone, were different. But the sun and the horizon were the most baffling to her. They threatened her with vertigo and a tinge of nausea.
She glanced at Jakob, but he didn’t seem to notice it at all. Of course, he’d been here longer. Then she looked to the administrator and saw the compassion on her face. “It is hard to get used to at first,” the woman said. “Just like it’s hard for our people to adjust to the above spaces.” She paused. “Your stars, for instance. Most New Espirans never see the stars. Or the sun.”
Jin’s mouth went dry as the words settled in. The above spaces. “We’re…” The words were so inconce
ivable to her that she lost her way and had to start again. “We’re underground?”
Administrator Gras nodded. “We are.” Then she looked to the light that pretended to be a sun. “The People established this crèche at the center of Lasthome. They called it the World-womb. It would be difficult to explain—there is good reason their descendants grew to see them as gods. But long before Lasthome was formed for them, the People had harnessed the power of suns and gravity, had solved the mysteries of mass and light that would let them expand beyond the confines of their Firsthome. We’ve lived here, in the Hidden Crèche, since Frederico and Amal Y’Zir led us to this place in the great Under-Exodus. Here, he established the bargain that has now come to term.”
Jin released her held breath and looked around again. Four uniformed men waited near a large, ornate wagon with six steel wheels and no horses. One of them lowered steps and helped the administrator aboard. Then they helped Jin up, and Chandra passed the children up to her one at a time. The interior was paneled in mahogany, with cushioned benches running along the walls.
Once everyone was aboard, two of the uniformed men climbed onto the back, and the other two climbed into the driving bench at the front. Jin couldn’t see what they did exactly, but she heard a hiss and a low rumble as the wagon started moving. It rode easy, and the children played in the aisle between the benches as they made their way down a white road beside the river.
When the voice filled her head, Jin was caught off guard.
Yes. It was old and dry and far away. At long last, the Time of Sowing is upon us and the People are restored to their heritage. I look forward to meeting you, Great Mother.
Jin blinked the voice away and looked around at the others. The administrator was watching her. “Did you hear that?”
The woman smiled. “Of course I did.” She looked out the window. “We’ll be there soon.”
Not knowing what else to do, Jin Li Tam divided her attention between watching the children play and watching the strange landscape roll past the window of the horseless wagon that carried them. Some part of her—the part that belonged to her father—thought maybe she should be more frightened than she was and more focused upon the Tam cunning that kept her family alive and in control. But that part was distant to her now, lost in the sound and sight of her son and the wonders of this new place. So instead, Jin Li Tam found herself flooded with curiosity and gave herself the luxury of a wandering mind for the first time in too many years.