The Shoreless Sea

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  The man still looked doubtful. Nevertheless, he pulled out a copper star and handed it to the boy. “Thank you for being honest. Honesty always pays.”

  The sheriff looked bemused. “We all good here?”

  The man nodded. “Thank you….”

  “Andy.”

  “Jensen.” He shook her hand, his smile reappearing. “Thank you, Andy. This was all I had left for the week, so I’m grateful.”

  Andy returned the smile. “Just trying to put good out into the world. Come on, Thierry.” She took the boy’s hand again, surprised he hadn’t decided to disappear. It would be harder to find him the second time, now that he knew she was looking.

  Hopefully she had him hooked.

  Chapter Two: Fear

  DELLA HAD retired to the mayoral residence, just a block from the square. It would serve as her offices until Arnold could do something about her official suite.

  She looked out over the waters of the Rhyl at the Warren on the other side. She wondered where the little scoundrel was, the Liminal her sources in the city guard had told her about.

  She was sending Arnold to fetch him. Then she would make the boy rich beyond his imagining to secure his loyalty only to her. With his help, soon she would not only be mayor of Darlith, but Empress of the Three Cities. “I see you’ve gotten dressed?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The Warren… it’s not a place for the likes of us.” He had dressed down in some old work clothes—undyed woven cotton—and yet somehow he still looked like a dandy.

  Us. As if he were her equal. “And my other requests?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, De… Mayor Devereaux. The council refuses to gather again before their scheduled meeting next month. They did not seem… inclined to support your requests.”

  Della hissed. Next month was too far away. Next week was too long to wait. By then the other Liminals would have fled the city. She needed to act now, while her victory was still fresh.

  The guard would support her. She’d made sure of that with her liason with the Captain of the Guard, Galen Hart. “Disband them.”

  “What?” Arnold looked at her like she was barking mad.

  “If they won’t meet my requests, we’ll disband them. Call for a new election in a month. By then, I should have Darlith well under my heel.”

  “How?”

  Poor simple man. “Pin up a proclamation. State that it’s for the good of the city… you know the kind of bullshit the sheep like. Blame it on the Liminals.”

  “Yes, your Mayorship.”

  “One of these days soon we’ll change the title too. Mayor sounds a little too… weak for my taste. But one thing at a time.” She took a deep breath. “And I want the boy. Go bring him to me.” She flicked him away with her fingers.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Arnold scampered off like the preening little rat he was.

  The world mind could stop her. If Aine wanted to.

  She’d been long gone from the affairs of the humans under her care, and Della was betting she’d take no notice of a few purely political machinations. She would be easy enough to fool, once Della got her hands on the boy.

  “One last thing.”

  Arnold’s head popped back around the doorway. “Yes, your… Della?”

  “I want to burn that sculpture to the ground.”

  “The sculpture?”

  “The Earth. It’s a lie. I want to wipe it off the square.”

  Arnold nodded, jotting it down on his pad. “I’ll order it done.”

  She shook her head. “No, I want to do it. Personally. Please arrange a ceremony for it later this afternoon.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When he was gone, Della pulled an empty chair to the window.

  Imagining it her throne, she sat before the open shutters, staring out at Darlith and the surrounding countryside where it curved up toward the sky.

  In the distance, cotton fields glowed a cheery white, and beyond that, an apple orchard showed off its perfect rows.

  She grinned. It really was a beautiful world.

  And soon it will all be mine.

  ANDY AND Thierry stepped up onto the wide wooden café terrace, Andy holding the smooth stair railing to steady herself.

  Thierry’s mouth watered at the smells. Roland didn’t feed his charges all that well. Thierry snatched the occasional berry tart at the fair, but he was always careful not to draw attention.

  Epic failure today on that count. He wondered what the old woman wanted from him. Not a roll in the hay, clearly. He wasn’t one of those boys, and she looked like her rolling days were over. It might break her in half. He wondered just how old she was.

  “Hey, get out of here.” One of the waiters shooed him away with a cloth, a sneer on her face.

  Andy put a hand on his shoulder. “The boy’s with me.”

  The waiter frowned but showed them to a table. “Might want to clean him up a bit next time so he doesn’t get mistaken for one of those street urchins.”

  Thierry grinned. “Wouldn’t want that, missus.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Andy sat down gingerly and passed him a menu. “Order whatever you want. It’s on me.”

  “Really?” He snatched it and looked down the list. Red berry pancakes. Sausages and toast. Apple cinnamon muffins. “Can I have one of each?”

  “If that’s what you really want. Just don’t make yourself sick.” Andy considered her own menu.

  Thierry frowned. His mother used to tell him that. “Um… just the pancakes, then.”

  She nodded. “You must be hungry—how about the sausages and toast too?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He was starting to like this arrangement. He glanced out at the square nervously. Roland would be expecting him back soon. He’d just tell his boss that he’d been detained by the sheriff but they’d let him go. Satisfied, he returned his attention to the menu.

  “Can I take your order?” The waitress, a blond woman in her midtwenties, was all smiles now.

  “Yes. My friend here will have the pancakes, sausage, and toast, and a glass of red berry juice.” Andy handed her the menu. “For me, just an embrew.”

  “Got it.”

  When they were alone, she took her napkin and dipped it in her water. She reached forward to wipe his cheeks. “Where do you live? Don’t you have running water?”

  “Nope. We bathe in the river, once a week or so.” He closed his eyes, enduring the forced cleaning. Just like Mamma, except she used to spit onto a corner of her dress.

  “Where are your parents?”

  He shrugged. “My da was never around. Mamma died when I was five or six.”

  She finished her cleaning. “That’s better. Though you still stink.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “You ain’t smelling so fine yourself.” She smelled like flowers and honey. Kinda like Mamma too.

  He pulled back, expecting her to slap him.

  Instead, she laughed. “You have a fire in you, boy. I like that.”

  The bells of the church rang. Ten chimes. Roland would be expecting him back soon. He fidgeted in his chair, looking toward the inside of the café.

  His food finally arrived, and Thierry stared at it, his mouth watering. He looked up at Andy expectantly. Maybe he could stay just a little longer.

  “Go ahead.” She sipped her embrew, staring at him enigmatically over the steam.

  He dug in with a vengeance, pouring mallow syrup over the pancakes and making short work of the toast, torn between savoring each bite and stuffing it down his throat as quick as he was able.

  It was the most he’d had to eat at one time in months.

  “So where do you live?”

  He looked up, his mouth full of red berries and pancake. “Roffflan.” One of the red berries popped out and rolled across the table, leaving a red trail.

  “What? Swallow first. Did no one teach you any manners?” Andy flicked the berry back onto his plate.

  “Sowwy.” He gulped the pancake d
own. “With Roland. He looks out for a bunch of us kids.”

  Andy shook her head. “I’ll bet. Where?”

  “In the Warren.” He pointed toward the river behind them. “On the Farside.”

  “Ah.” She didn’t sound surprised. “And this… ability of yours. When did you first manifest it?”

  “Mani…?”

  “When did it first come to you?”

  “Oh.” He drank half the glass of red berry juice and wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. “When the changes come.”

  “Changes. Puberty?”

  He nodded. He was already halfway through his meal. Maybe if he played his cards right, she’d buy him some more to take with him on the way. “I was being chased by one of the older boys. We ran through the Warren. He took my blanket, so I stole it back, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, he was really angry.” That had been before Roland. Before he’d had a safe place to sleep every night. He licked the juice from a burst red berry off his thumb.

  “What did you do?” She watched him intently, hanging on every word.

  It felt good to have someone be so interested in him. Someone besides his friends—the other boys at Roland’s place.

  “I ran around the corner and stumbled over a pile of trash. I landed flat on my face in the gutter and just lay there.” He still remembered that moment, facedown in the stench of the Warren. He’d looked up and she was there. His mother. Glowing like a tree. Smiling at him. “I saw her.”

  “Who?” Andy leaned forward, her face kind.

  He’d never told anyone about it. It had seemed too crazy. The other boys would have beat him up for telling such a stupid story, but Andy seemed really interested. “My mother. She reached out to me and touched my face. She was all lit up. She whispered, ‘You’re going to be okay.’”

  Andy sat back.

  He sighed. Should have kept it to myself. She didn’t believe him. “Sorry. It’s stupid.” He turned his attention back to his pancakes.

  “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.”

  He looked up. She didn’t look at all surprised. “You believe me?”

  Andy nodded. “The world is a strange and wonderful place. Stranger than you know yet, my young friend.” She reached out and took his hand. “What happened next?”

  “Tommy… he was the boy chasing me. He walked right past me. He looked at me and didn’t even see me.”

  She squeezed his hand. “That must have been amazing.”

  He nodded, eating the last of his pancakes. They tasted so good. “Then he left. Could I have some more?”

  “Sure.” She flagged down their waiter. “Another order of pancakes?”

  “Coming right up.”

  Thierry glanced around nervously, looking for any of the other boys from Roland’s place. He was supposed to be back there by now. He didn’t want to make Roland angry.

  “Someone expecting you?”

  He nodded. “Roland.”

  She reached out to touch his hand. “I want to talk with you some more. Can you meet me here again tomorrow?”

  “Will there be more breakfast?” He licked the red berry jam off his fingers.

  She laughed again, a grin spreading across her face. “I think that can be arranged.”

  “How old are you?”

  She stared at him, but the grin only lessened. It didn’t go away. “Old enough to know better than to answer that question.”

  “Okay. What time?”

  “At nine bells?”

  He glanced at the church. “Sure.” He looked around the square for another easy mark.

  “Here.” Andy put her purse on the table in front of him. “Pay for breakfast and take the rest to Roland. There should be enough there to satisfy him. Don’t steal anything else today.”

  He gulped. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She took his chin in her hand and forced him to look her in the eyes. “Promise?”

  He crossed his fingers behind his back. “Promise.”

  “Okay, tomorrow, then. I’m glad I met you, Thierry Finch.” She stood and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. Then she touched his shoulder before making her way across the deck and back down to the street.

  Thierry stared after her. How did she know my last name? Then he decided it didn’t really matter. He’d probably never see her again. He finished the second helping of pancakes, ignoring the stares from some of the other diners. I can pay.

  He briefly considered just disappearing with the loot. A few more coins in the purse for Roland would make the man happy. He had crossed his fingers, after all.

  Something stopped him.

  A memory. Facedown in the street, and a promise.

  You’re going to be okay. Maybe he would come back the next day.

  Besides, it would serve them right to assume a kid like him couldn’t afford a nice place like this.

  Decided, he counted out the copper stars and stuck his tongue out at a woman who was glaring at him from the next table over.

  “Gutter rat.” She turned away.

  Sewer cat. He glared at her, but she ignored him.

  Thierry took a deep breath and marched off the terrace with as much dignity as he could muster. When he was out of sight, he vanished.

  Returning on silent toes, he knocked her embrew into her lap.

  Slipping away, he grinned. He had exacted his revenge. She only said I couldn’t steal.

  ANDY LEFT the center of Darlith behind, crossing the stone bridge to Farside and passing into the orderly streets of the Grid.

  Two opposing worlds had grown up next to each other, there on the far side of the river. The Grid—neat rows of houses and shops to the south along the now shuttered rail line. And the Warren on the north—a ramshackle shantytown that had grown like a fungus along the eastern banks of the Rhyl, just across the river from the heart of town.

  It reminded her of nothing so much as the refugee camp she’d seen as a child, just before the Collapse. She wished she had the strength and the power to go there and make things better for all its inhabitants. Unfortunately her ability had faded with age, and now she was left to do most things with her wits alone. Shandra, I wish you were here.

  Three years. Three long years since she had last held Shandra’s hands. Felt Shandra’s breath on her neck as they slept. Kissed her lips among the red berry vines.

  Sweet Eddy had gone two years before, and Santi had left to be with him just last year. Andy shook her head, clearing out the sad thoughts.

  She still had a bit of life left in her, and she meant to make it count.

  The two-story wood-frame buildings in the Grid ran in lanes from east to west and streets from north to south. Many of them had businesses on the ground floor and residences above. The streets were wide, usually clean, and straight as a ruler.

  The sky was starting to cloud up. Aine was sending them rain today. Andy grinned. The rains always reminded her of Colin, when they’d huddled inside the tent together, watching the storm go by and talking about the skies of Old Earth.

  No one is truly dead if you carry their memory in your heart. Something her mother had once told her, after Grandma Glory had passed away.

  We’re the ones who feel the pain.

  She turned onto Red Fern Street, passing a new homewares shop called the Rusty Kettle. She smiled. The world was becoming less and less dependent on the factories and Aine for its wares. Mostly now the world mind supplied just the raw materials, and a whole new industry had sprung up to utilize them.

  She fished around for the slip of paper in her skirt pocket, pulled it out to check the address again. 304 Red Fern Lane. Above the cobbler’s shop.

  She soon found the building, a few numbers down from Lamplighter’s Lane. It was painted blue with white trim, built from mallowood planks. Spry Feet—the cobbler’s shop—featured a long windowsill. Glass was rare these days and plas all but nonexistent, and the shop’s shutters were thrown wide ope
n.

  Andy leaned over the threshold. A young man sat behind a counter, cutting leather patterns with a blade. “Excuse me?”

  “Morning!” He gave her a big smile. “I’m Vince.”

  “Andy. Nice shop you have here.”

  “I like it. Need some new shoes?” He set down his knife and came to the window, then looked over the sill at her feet. “Oooh, those are nice.”

  She lifted her turquoise skirts. Shandra had made the boots for her, dying the leather a bright red and decorating it with stitched turquoise swirls. “I think I’m good for now.”

  He grinned. “Well, what can I do for you, then?”

  “Is this 304?”

  “Sure is.”

  “I’m here to see my daughter. Belynn—do you know her?”

  “Ah.” The grin faded. “Her flat is upstairs.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Vince shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it, but things are changing. Her kind aren’t so welcome in Darlith anymore.”

  Andy sighed. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that. “Her kind?”

  “Liminals. The new administration says they’re taking advantage of the rest of us. I don’t think like that, but… well, you might want to tell her to get out of town.”

  “Have there been… incidents?”

  “A few. Look, that’s just my advice. Take it or leave it. Door’s to the right.” He went back to work.

  “Thank you. Maybe I’ll stop in and see what you have a little later.”

  “That would be fine, ma’am.” He didn’t look up again.

  Unsettled, she made her way to the door of the residence. She tapped on it with her cane, the sound echoing through the building.

  Footsteps pattered down the stairs from somewhere up above.

  The door opened, and Destiny grinned at her.

  Se looked good, ser dark hair trimmed short, ser cheeks almost glowing. “Come on up. Bella is at the Market, but she’ll be home soon.”

  Andy followed ser into the stairwell. “You two are happy?”

  Destiny nodded. “We are. We seem to just… fit. You know?”

  Andy nodded. “I do.” She’d always known Belynn didn’t set any boundaries on her love. It was one of the things Andy was most proud of her for.