“They are close blood kin.”
“How close?”
“Most likely granddaughter and grandmother. Aunt and niece is possible, although the age gap makes it unlikely. Certainly no relationship more distant.”
“Thank you.”
The senior Sister gave a nod of dismissal and the Imprinter left the room.
Once the door had closed, the colonel cleared her throat. “We’re grateful for the confirmation of the prisoner’s identity. But this is delaying her interrogation. I’d ask that we be allowed to return her to the prison forthwith.”
The elderly civilian—Tanya’s grandmother, if the Imprinter was to be believed—frowned sharply. “I don’t think one of your cells is an appropriate place for her.”
“I would remind you, Madam Coppelli, that she’s a heretic.”
“And I would remind you, Colonel Zelenski, that she’s my granddaughter.”
Tanya watched the colonel exchange angry looks with the other officer before returning to the attack.
“I’d have thought you’d rather have your family shame hidden from the eyes of the pious. It’s not something you’ve trumpeted in the past.”
“Just because I chose not to announce on the streets that my
youngest daughter’s a heretic doesn’t mean I’m happy for my grand-daughter to rot in an underground cell.”
Colonel Zelenski appealed to the senior Sister. “Chief Consultant, surely you’re not prepared to allow this?”
The Sister’s title came as no surprise to Tanya. Who else could summon the Intelligence Corps Colonel to appear with a prisoner? Chief Consultant Bakara was the thirty-third to hold the title, in line from Himoti, the first Chief Consultant. Even in Westernfort Bakara’s name was known. She was the leader of the Sisterhood, and thus ruler of the Homelands. All Guards were sworn to uphold her authority, both in matters of religion and government.
“I’d like to hear what Madam Coppelli is proposing before I make up my mind.”
Tanya’s grandmother smiled in gratitude. “Thank you. Of course, I’m not suggesting that she’s set free, but I think she should be held here, in the temple, under the care of the Sisterhood. I’d point out that, though she’s a heretic, it’s not by her choice. She was born in the wilderness and has never had the benefit of proper instruction. She should be given the chance to embrace the true faith.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Zelenski said. “She has valuable information, and only the Corps are trained in suitable interrogation techniques.”
“You mean torture,” Tanya’s grandmother countered.
“Call it what you will. It’s necessary.”
“I’d dispute that. From what I’ve heard, your techniques are very good at getting confessions and very poor at anything else. You can make someone say whatever you want. Which means they end up telling you exactly what you want to hear, regardless of whether it’s the truth. How many times have you got into a mess because you’ve forced someone to tell you a reassuring lie?”
“I don’t thi—”
“Please.” The Chief Consultant held up her hand, cutting off Zelenski. She turned to Tanya’s grandmother. “Bringing an innocent to the worship of the Goddess is a virtuous goal, but we have standard procedures and I’m not sure we should make an exception in her case.”
“I’d remind you of the services I’ve performed for you in the past. Is this so much to ask?”
The words were delivered in a calm, even tone, but Tanya could feel the nuances underlying them. Her grandmother was clearly exerting pressure. Threat was too strong a word, but it was obvious to her, and anyone with ears, that her grandmother and Chief Consultant Bakara had shared history and shared secrets.
“I...” Bakara hesitated. “Maybe you’re right.”
“My lady, I protest.” Zelenski was losing the debate and her tone revealed that she knew it. “You don’t have the resources.”
“We have secure rooms in the temple.”
“But—”
“If you’re so concerned, I’ll keep her under constant surveillance. Guards will be on duty outside her room and I’ll have a Sister watch over her.”
The final exchanges were lost on Tanya as she scrambled to adjust to the idea that she would not be returning to the dungeon. Before she knew it, she was being led from the audience chamber, in the company of two Sisters and four Guards.
It’s a trick. The words jumped into her head. It’s to make you think you’re safe, so you’ll crack when they get the needles out again. Don’t believe it. Don’t trust anyone.
Tanya was still repeating the mantra to herself when they arrived in a long room, high in a tower. Sunset was over, but the sky was still light enough to see the bars across the window. The furniture was austere, a narrow bed and a table with two chairs. The walls and floor were bare, but compared to the underground cell, it was bliss.
The Guards remained outside, but one Sister followed Tanya in and took up position on a seat just inside the door. Her grandmother also entered the room. She placed a hand on Tanya’s arm and led her to the table under the window. They sat on opposite sides. If they spoke softly, the Sister was now too far away to overhear what was said, but quite able to see should anything be passed over.
“You’d have to be an exceptionally dense member of my family if you haven’t worked out that I’m Piety’s mother.” The old woman’s lips twitched in a smile. “Except I doubt she ever uses the name. I believe she prefers to be called Chip.”
Tanya nodded, thinking rapidly. Her mother’s real name was common knowledge in Westernfort, although only the suicidal would dare use it. The name Piety was probably in the official enlistment records with the Homelands Militia, but how widely known in Landfall would the nickname be? That the woman across the table knew it was more convincing than the scene with the Imprinter, although this did not mean Tanya dare let herself think she was truly safe.
“Yes, she does. I’m her oldest daughter, Tanya.”
“I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Isabel Coppelli.” Again she smiled. “You can call me Grandma Izzy if you wish.”
“Oh, right. Thank you for, um...rescuing me from the Corps.”
“I acted as soon as I found out they had you. I hope it was in time to spare you too much unpleasantness.”
“Things were just starting to get nasty.” Tanya kept her hands under the table, but she got the feeling that her grandmother had already seen the blood under her nails. “How did you know I was here?”
“The Corps is not the only organization in Landfall with spies. And I like to think that mine are all the more effective for not being hampered by dogma.”
“Why did you help me?” Tanya glanced at the Sister by the door and dropped her voice still lower. “You’re not a heretic too, are you?”
“I’m a faithful daughter of the Goddess, as long as it doesn’t impact on my profit or my family. I think this makes me a pragmatist.” Isabel smiled. “How much do you know of your mother’s history here in Landfall?”
“I know the two of you didn’t get on. She ran away to join the Militia when she was seventeen.”
“I see diplomacy still runs in the family. Didn’t get on is a tactful way to put it. I tried to force her to be what I wanted her to be, and she insisted on being herself. She was my youngest daughter and the only one who dared defy me. I’m now old and wise enough to know this makes her the only one who could possibly take my place. And someone has to. I’m eighty-eight and I won’t live forever.”
“I don’t think...” Tanya was unsure where the conversation was going.
“Oh, I know I’ve lost my chance with your mother. I’m trying not to make the same mistake with the next generation.” Isabel’s expression became earnest, with a hint of sadness. “I drove Piety...Chip out, and I’ve had thirty-five years to regret it. I’m going to do everything in my power to help you, partly because I owe it to your mother, but mainly because you’re a Coppelli. And nobody pushes a Coppelli around.”<
br />
Chapter Eight—The Players Assemble
Riki had visited Landfall twice as a child, staying with an aunt who lived on the south side of the city. The memories of playing in the street with her cousins and visiting the great temple were clear in her mind. A small square had been nearby, with a statue of a mounted rider. With this to work on, Riki was sure she could find her aunt’s home again, although she had no idea whether her relatives still lived there, and she had other, safer leads to pursue first.
Her route, down a wide street lined with shops, took her toward the center of the city. The midday sounds, sights, and smells of Landfall washed over her like an avalanche, the vibrant anarchy that she remembered. Riki loved the wilderness, the beauty of mountains and forests, yet the city had a mad energy, a sense that anything was possible, that at any moment, some new opportunity might open before her. Riki was sure it would get tiring after a while and she would long for solitude and silence, but for the moment, she was enjoying the buzz that made her feel in some way more alive than normal.
As soon as she reached the Homelands, Riki had acquired some nondescript clothing while the owners were not looking. Once dressed so as not to draw attention, she had sold the two horses and bought an old pony. She had covered the distance to Landfall at a steady rate, staying at the cheapest lodgings. The money from the horses was holding out well and would last her to Highview and beyond. However, she did not want to go all the way to the far side of the Homelands, only to find out that her gene mother no longer lived there.
Jan, her oldest sister, had moved to Landfall with her partner several years before Riki and her birth mother fled. She had been a member of the Merchants’ Guild and worked as a clerk at their guildhall. Even though Jan might also have moved on, as a Guild member, her whereabouts would be known, and a matter of public record. All Riki had to do was ask, and the guildhall was certainly easy to find.
Riki halted her pony outside the ornate façade and tied its reins. A broad flight of polished steps led up to an entrance with the words Merchants’ Guildhall engraved above. Deep stone mullioned windows on either side were glazed with expensive clear white glass, rather than common green. A row of carved gargoyles looked down from the rooftop. The Merchants’ Guild was wealthy and wanted to make sure everyone knew it.
Riki stopped just inside the doorway and looked around for somebody who could give directions. Several candidates were in sight. Riki was working out who best to approach, but it was not necessary. Her uncertainty attracted notice and a woman bustled over—a scribe, Riki guessed from her ink-stained fingers.
“Can I help you?”
“I hope so. I’m passing through Landfall and I thought I’d look up my cousin who used to work here some years back. Her name’s Jan Diaz. I don’t know if she’s still here.”
The scribe smiled. “Yes, she is. She’ll be working, but I’m sure she can spare a few moments. Who shall I say it is?”
“Tina. Tina Diaz.”
Riki gave the name of a cousin. Her own was not wise to toss around casually. Most likely, the clerk would not recognize it and would know nothing of the sister who had joined the heretics, but there was no point taking the risk. Jan might be confused, especially if Tina was still living in Landfall, but she would put it down to a garbled message. Regardless, she was unlikely to refuse to see Tina—unless they’d had some major falling-out while Riki had been in the Wildlands.
The scribe returned in a few minutes. “She can see you. I’ll show you to her office.”
“Has she got her own office now?”
“Oh yes. She got promoted to head of archives two years ago.”
Riki smiled. A private meeting would make things easier. The scribe led her down a short flight of stairs and rapped helpfully on a door. She then smiled again at Riki and left.
“Enter,” a voice called out.
Riki pushed the door open and stepped inside. Jan was alone, sitting at a desk by the window. She was older than Riki remembered, and heavier, although that was only to be expected for someone now in her mid-thirties. Her face held a look of mild confusion that changed to surprise.
“I’m sorry. I thought Liz said you were my cousin Tina.”
“That’s what I told her to say.”
“But you’re not... Who are you?”
Riki moved closer. “Don’t you recognize me?”
“No. I don’t think I...” Jan’s voice died. “By the Goddess! Riki?”
Riki nodded.
“What are you doing here?”
“Coming home.”
“But you...you haven’t told anyone who you are, have you? If the Guards—”
“No. That’s why I told your clerk I was Tina.”
Jan sank back in her chair and smiled weakly. “Right.”
Suddenly Jan’s face split in a huge grin. She launched herself from her chair and flung her arms around Riki. “Oh, little sis. It’s good to see you. I’ve been wondering and worrying about you and Mama Kav.”
“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed all of you.” Riki laughed and returned the hug, slapping Jan’s back. She felt tears welling in her eyes. “And I want to hear all the news. Have you made me an auntie again? How about Sue and Bron?”
“Six times over, between us.” Jan stepped back, holding Riki at arm’s length. Her expression shifted from joy to astonishment and back. “How long can you stay in Landfall?”
“As long as you’ll have me.”
Jan took a deep breath. “Great. We’ve a lot of catching up to do. But not here. If I give you my address, do you think you can find it?”
“If you throw in a few directions as well.”
Jan swung around and stretched across her desk, taking a pen from its stand and pulling a scrap of paper toward her. She dipped the pen in an inkwell.
“Okay. Here you go. Fia’s birth mother lives with us. She’ll be there and will let you in if you show her this and tell her...” Jan paused, biting her lip. “She’s met Tina, so we can’t use her. Um...tell her you’re my cousin’s daughter, Vanda Sadiq. You remember her?”
“She not around?”
“Haven’t heard from her in years. It should be safe.”
Riki took the note and nodded. “Fine. I’ll see you there tonight.”
Jan reached out and rubbed Riki’s head, a familiar gesture from their childhood. Riki felt her throat constricting and tears again in her eyes.
“Sure thing, little sis. I’ll try to get home early. I’m so pleased to see you. I want all the news.”
*
Jan and her partner, Fia, lived in a modest three-story townhouse in a quiet area of the city, with their three daughters and Fia’s elderly mother. The home was snug, noisy, and affectionate. Only Fia was let in on the secret of Riki’s true identity. The children were too young to trust their discretion, and the old woman was a little too devout in her beliefs to confide in. Even so, she was unlikely to have informed to the Guards—not with her own daughter implicated—but it would have placed an unnecessary strain on her conscience, and she was a sweet, soppy old soul who nobody wanted to upset.
The children were happy to bounce over any new relative. Riki played with them until their bedtime. The grandmother went next, followed shortly by Fia, who worked in the market and would be making an early start in the morning.
With the house at peace, the two sisters sat at the kitchen table, sharing a pot of tea. The walls around them were lined with overflowing shelves. Light from the candle on the table reflected on copper pans hanging over the stove. The long summer’s day was over and the window shutters were closed. Sounds from the city outside were muted. Now they could talk without inhibition.
Jan leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “So why have you returned? Weren’t you happy with the heretics?”
“Not really.” Riki wrinkled her nose. “And then I got blamed for something I hadn’t done. But I couldn’t prove it. So I legged it.”
“You’ve lef
t Mama Kav alone?”
Riki shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice. But she’s not totally alone.”
Jan smiled. “She’s found a new partner?”
“Sort of.”
“And she knows you’re innocent?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t get a chance to talk. I hope so, but...” Riki shrugged and stared into her tea.
She had not been thinking about her mother, but that was to block out uncomfortable images. How had her mother taken the news? Had she been upset? Riki pursed her lips. Stupid question. Of course her mother had been distraught, grief-struck, and frantic. Riki knew how many times she had deliberately tried to hurt her mother. She now regretted it and wished she could have the chance to say she was sorry. But most of all, she would like her mother to know that this time she was innocent and had not been trying to cause trouble. Her mother might be the only one in the Wildlands who would believe Riki when she denied betraying Tanya. Too late to wish she had given a better return on her mother’s unconditional love.
“I’m pleased she’s found someone new.” Jan’s voice recalled her to the kitchen.
Riki took a sip of tea. She did not want to talk about Westernfort any more than she could help—certainly not with so many other topics she would rather discuss. “How about Mama Eli? Has she found someone?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.”
The harsh tone caught Riki by surprise. “You’re not in contact with her?”
“No.”
“How about Sue and Bron?”
“They won’t have anything to do with her either.”
“Why?”
Jan sighed and leaned back. “You were too young to get involved back then. You were shielded from most of what went on, but I guess you’re old enough now. So, the short answer. Mama Eli was an evil, two-timing bitch.”
“But…she was...” Riki was bewildered.
“I got most of the story secondhand from Bron. Fia and I were here in Landfall for the last few years, and Sue had just moved in with Penny. But Bron was still living at home and she kept us both up to date with what was going on.” Jan pursed her lips. “Did you know about Mama Eli and her string of tarts?”
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