by L. W. Jacobs
“I spent my time in Ayugen, yes. Though he is here as much by my wishes as much as any protective role.” She took Tai’s hand in hers—let them at least be open about this. Their relationship made a good excuse for why an Achuri would be in their party, but moreso if Aran ended up as dangerous as they thought, she would not spend their last few days together pretending to be business partners.
Especially if she was forced to use her resonance again. How much life would she lose if they had to fight in Aran? Would the resonance let her survive into old age, or if she was meant to die in her fiftieth year, would she suddenly die mid-slip?
Such were the questions that had tormented her since Nauro told her of the costs. Curse the man.
Eyadin reddened. “I see.”
Relationships between lighthair and dark were not spoken of in polite society, but she wouldn’t let it bother her. It was one area among many the Councilate could use changing.
“Perhaps there could be common ground between your Houses on this?” Tai asked. “Is Mettelken interested in such things?”
Did he know Mettelken made their money from banking and loans? Still, it was plausible—rebels needed funding too.
The sorrowful cast returned to Eyadin’s face. “I doubt it, sir, but perhaps if your party would wait for me outside Aran, I could make introductions once we are all safely back in Worldsmouth.”
Ella’s heart softened then. The man was clearly determined to deliver his message, but he was doing what he could to keep them out of it. If only they could accept.
“I would welcome that,” Ella said, “though I fear I would not likely keep what position I’ve made for myself at Aygla if I did not first do my diligence with these rebels.”
“More’s the pity,” Eyadin said. “Though at the very least the Councilate does seem to have quite a presence here. Pray they keep us safe.” He nodded at a square of white tents erected at a crossroads ahead.
The knot that had begun to loosen in her belly tightened again. Just as she’d smoothed things with whatever Tai was planning!
“Well,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Just a band of intrepid pilgrims, right?”
They passed the checkpoint without incident, however, and continued on in the bright Yersh sun, shedding furs for under layers, the air carrying some of the humidity she remembered so well from Worldsmouth, and just a touch of the swelter. The Yersh plains were vast, stretching from the Sorral Mountains in the south to Shatterbrook on its peninsula jutting into the ocean, far beyond Worldsmouth. The Oxheart was one its southern rivers, and Aran was likely only halfway from Ayugen to Shatterbrook. Looking at the well-kept earthen irrigation canals and moss-covered stone houses along the road, it was no wonder the Yersh Empire had lasted a thousand years: they had the best climate, soil, and navigability of anywhere on Saicha.
Which made them the obvious targets for Worldsmouth merchants, once the merchants learned enough Brinerider ship design to trade further upriver with their boats. The wealth they amassed—along with the disease they brought--had undermined the authority of the Emperor, once held to be a descendant of the Prophet himself. Now he was what the Councilate called a ‘cultural leader,’ figurehead for a culture disappearing into the maw of history.
They walked mainly in silence, perhaps from mutual agreement that neither side say any more for fear of spoiling the lies they’d told each other. Ella was dying to corner Tai and ask him what in shatters he thought he was doing inviting Eyadin along. And then to forget all of this and just be together, after long weeks on a ship with scant privacy, and him so withdrawn these last few days.
Tonight. So long as the regular checkpoints they passed granted them another night. So long as Eyadin didn’t suspect Tai’s true identity and spill it to one of the whitecoats. Though the man seemed determined to keep his mission a secret.
Who had sent him, anyway, that he couldn’t reveal himself even to the whitecoats?
The land had begun to roll as they moved away from the Oxheart, hillsides dotted with stands of goldbark and scarlet puceleaf, flatter areas separated into fields and pastures by low fences of stacked stone. She had gotten used to the bluish-purple plants of winter in Ayugen and the Yati hinterlands, but the weather was too warm here for them to grow, and the star never rose as high in the sky as it did in the south. She had barely seen it in her youth, just a low glow on the southern horizon during the dry season that passed for winter in Worldsmouth.
Because of that, they wouldn’t be getting much uai in their diets, if any. She’d bought mavenstym in Fenschurch, the blossoms expensive this far north, but even they would be a limited resource. They’d have to watch their use of resonances—but on the other hand, being in the north meant not many opponents would have resonances to use either.
They stopped at a hoary stone-and-timber inn nestled in the swale of a grassy hill, buying oxtail and sour cheese and bread for lunch. There were no travelers there to work for information, but the innkeeper, a toothless woman in her seventh decade with a gaggle of idle daughters filling the common room, confirmed the road was emptier than usual, save for whitecoats.
They crossed a fourth checkpoint a few thousandpace beyond the inn, Ella’s stomach tightening despite the previous encounters going well. She had no doubt they could deal with a few soldiers—shatters, she could deal with them on her own, if she wanted to burn life hours—but the risk of anyone seeing or surviving was too great. If word spread, trying to get through occupied Aran with authorities looking for them would be impossible.
Fortunately, this checkpoint did not look overly severe: a pair of youthful whitecoats sat on three-legged stools to one side of a minor crossroads, their platoon’s tidy square of tents a few paces back from the road surrounded by a palisade of sharpened logs.
“Halt,” one of the soldiers said, standing and adjusting the hang of his trousers.
“And state your business,” said the other, a hand taller than the first.
This was standard procedure. “Pilgrims, good sirs,” Ella said, “on our way to Aran.”
“Awfully mixed company for a band of pilgrims,” the first one said. He nodded at Tai. “You there, you a true believer?”
He didn’t say darkhair, but it was implied. Few outside the Yershire followed Eschatology. “Can’t say as I am,” Tai said evenly, “but the woman pays well enough.”
“Where you from?” the taller one asked, eyes lingering a little too long on Marea.
“Hafeluss,” Ella said. She’d picked it for being one of the most racially diverse places in the Councilate.
“Long way,” the shorter one said.
“Bags,” said the taller.
A note of panic shot through her—bags? None of the other checkpoints had searched them, not even the officer at Califf. But what could they find? They were carrying a lot of marks, but had sold all their yura, and otherwise carried very little, having abandoned almost everything in the flight from the Yati waystone.
They opened their bags then, Feynrick grumbling as the men pawed through his plugs of sageleaf. All except Eyadin, who kept his bag on his back.
Shatters—Eyadin, who was so secretive and protective about the message he carried. Who lied about it to Councilate soldiers even though the message was ostensibly for the Councilate legion. Of course he wasn’t going to let them search his things. Find his message.
But Eyadin could get shattered. If she’d had her way he would already be out of the equation. “Eyadin,” she said, nodding at him. “Open your bag for the men.”
“I can’t,” he said quickly, eyes darting from her to the whitecoats. “House secrets.”
“We represent all the Houses, square and equal,” the taller one said, as he finished with Feynrick’s pack. “Let’s have a look.”
“I can’t,” Eyadin said again, something more like panic coming into his voice. “The—House orders. Please!”
“Now we really do need to see what’s in there,” the shorter one sa
id, looking up from Marea’s things. “Open it up or you get no further.”
This was it, then. The fight that would cost them the whole quest if they didn’t do it right. Because Tai had to invite along shatting Eyadin.
She was going to have a serious talk with the man come nightfall.
“House rights,” Eyadin squawked, as the taller one laid hands on him. “I have my rights to privacy as a representative of Mettelken! Ask your commanding officer!”
The shorter one looked uncertain at this, glancing to the taller one, but Ella’s stomach sank. There was no version of asking the commanding officer that turned out well for them, but what else could they do?
With a start she realized she was feeling a whine in her bones—Marea’s resonance. Was the girl trying to sabotage them? Or was this lucky, considering their other options?
Tai cleared his throat, nudging his yet-unexamined pack to reveal two rolls of marks. “It’s unfortunate,” he said, “that the lowest-paid members of a party often have to do the bulk of the work.”
Shorter one glanced at the coins, then to taller one, who stared openly. The rolls were unbroken, which likely meant a thousand marks, more wages than an infantryman would make in six months’ time.
“You trying to bribe us?”
“Only if you ask your commanding officer,” Tai said. “Otherwise, I have just found your marks in my bag, and we’ll be on our way.”
Shorter one grunted something at taller one, who was still staring at the coins. Marea’s resonance rolled on in the background, almost too high to feel, and Ella’s heart raced. Councilate soldiers were not supposed to be biddable. They regularly court-martialed men for taking House bribes in Worldsmouth. But they weren’t in Worldsmouth, and these men were young.
Then again, if the soldiers didn’t take the money they would all be under arrest. Ella felt inside for her resonance and made ready to strike.
“Check it,” the taller one said at last, glancing back at the camp.
Shorter one bent down and broke a roll open, hundred-mark coins spilling out. He bit one, then cursed and nodded. “It’s real.”
“Then get out of here,” taller one said, snatching the unbroken roll. “Pack your scat and disappear and we can all pretend this never happened.”
“Of course,” Tai said, bending to repack his bag, likely wanting to hide the rest of what they had. Bless the man for thinking of a bribe. She’d been about to strike resonance and cut the two men down.
“And don’t go thinkin’ to blow the whistle, once ye got your rolls pocketed,” Feynrick said. “Awful hard to ‘splain that kind of money, on your person or in yer tent or even buried in some patch of ground. Best to keep it all quiet. Soldier’s bonus, we used to call those.”
Eyadin was already down the road, and the rest of them followed in short order, Ella still tying up the last of her roll.
“Thank you,” the man said, when they were around the next bend. “That—I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’re sorry,” Marea said, “for almost getting us all mecked back there because of your big secret.”
Eyadin reddened. “I’m sorry. And I will see what I can do to get my, ah, House to repay your expenses.”
“We wanted the attention as little as you did,” Tai said.
“Let’s just pray we don’t run into the same situation again,” Ella said. “We do not have the funds for a second bribe that size. Eyadin, perhaps you can find a different way to store whatever it is you carry?”
“Yes,” he said. “That is a great idea.”
They stopped for the night at a single-story inn outside the hamlet of Galven, Eyadin insisting on paying for their rooms and meals. Supper was roast lamb in a turmeric broth with carrots and potatoes.
And then, finally, she got Tai alone. “What,” she said again, closing the door to their room, “was that?”
“What was what?” he asked, dropping onto the creaking bed.
“Don’t be daft,” she said, keeping her voice down. The next room over was Marea and Avery, their voices raised in some kind of spat, but there was no telling who could be listening at the door.
“He needed our help,” Tai said, nodding at the wall as if to say it isn’t safe. “I wasn’t going to just turn him away.”
Ella sighed. “Take me for a walk?”
Twilight was descending when they left via the common room, star’s light more of a glow than a shine this far north. A path wound back through a stand of goldbark toward a low hill and they took it, Tai’s hand in hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said, when they had walked for a few breaths. “I know it must have seemed crazy—”
“Crazy? Crazy is not half-strong enough for what it seemed like when you invited a Councilate representative carrying a message that could get us all killed to come along on our little walk!”
He took a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry. But I just—I can’t swallow killing him for the message he’s carrying.”
“Then what are you planning to do?”
“What I have been doing all day is reading him,” Tai said. “Watching his thoughts as we talk, and what he thinks about when we’re not talking.”
Ella stepped around a big stone, feet aching from the day’s walk like she was sixty years old. Maybe she was, technically. “And?”
“And he is who he says he is, I think,” Tai said. “He works for Mettelken as a messenger, and his thoughts keep coming back to getting this one to Aran as fast as he can.”
Ella shook her head. “Why would Mettelken send a message to put Aran to the sword? That kind of order should take a full Council vote.”
Tai shrugged. “I don’t know how the Council works, but that’s what he’s carrying. They made him memorize it. And he’s not just getting paid. They threatened him too, threatened his family. That’s most of what he thinks about while we’re walking. Wonders if he’ll get back to see them or not. Hates feeling responsible for what’s going to happen to Aran, but he can’t not save his family.”
Ella chewed on that for a moment, goldbarks opening up to reveal the first stars peeking through the blue night. “So he’s in a hard situation. I get that. But how does that change what we have to do? We can’t let his message get through.”
“No,” Tai said, “we can’t. But he’s an innocent man, Ella. Not even a soldier. Think about his family, if he doesn’t come back.”
“Yes,” Ella said, “it will be awful. But not as awful as the thousands of families dying in Aran.”
Tai shook his head. “That’s how we thought during the rebellion. Whoever we killed, we would eventually be saving more lives. But what does that matter to Marea?”
“To Marea? What—” She made the connection: Marea’s parents. Karhail had cut them down in their assault on the Newgen gates. Two innocent people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like Eyadin.
Ella turned to him, a warmth in her chest overcoming the frustration she felt. “You’re too good, you know that? Nobody worries about this stuff. You’re like a minister or something.”
“Would a minister do this?” He leaned in for a kiss, adding a grab that a minister definitely would not do.
Ella sighed when they broke off. “I needed that. Missed that. But you are too good, Tai. We’re not going to fix the world’s problems, even with everything we’re doing. People die.”
Tai looked toward the hilltop. “I’m not too good, I’m tortured. I keep coming back to these same thoughts, to this impossible choice.”
“Ydilwen again?”
“Yes. Or no. I don’t even know whose thoughts are whose anymore.”
Ella’s belly twisted—she knew how hard revenants could be.
“Don’t worry,” Tai said, “I’m not believing in him or whatever. I’m still me. But he has a point. What are we doing, killing people every time they’re in our way? What’s the point, if we’re no better than the people we’re fighting?”
He sta
rted walking again. “Nauro used to talk about revolutions of the wheel, about how the Councilate was a noble revolution once. How all noble causes get corrupted. He was talking about politics, but I feel like it’s true for shamans and revenants too.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why should we take the spear? To protect ourselves and Ayugen from someone else taking it and killing us? That feels noble, yes. But we kill a bunch of people to do it, doom their spirits to become revenants to torture other people and feed more uai into the archrevenants? What’s the point of saving Ayugen if Aran has to die? Or even someone like Eyadin, who’s caught up in this just like us, even though he doesn’t want to be?”
Ella sighed, skirts swishing in the grass. “When did you become the philosopher and me the street thug ready to kill whoever’s causing a problem?”
He grinned. “Guess we rubbed off on each other.”
She smiled back. “You’re hard to stay mad at, you know that? But what if there is no greater point? Or what if you’re right but it’s impossible to do? I would rather live with a few hard choices than die chasing some impossible dream.”
Especially when she had so little time left, but there was no need to say that. How much time did she even have left? How much less if she had to timeslip?
“You’re still mad about the checkpoint.”
“Shatters right I’m mad about the checkpoint! Eyadin almost got us all arrested because he wouldn’t open his scatting bag!”
They walked under a solitary puceleaf rustling in the breeze. “He doesn’t know who we are. Probably thought there was no harm in it.”
“Did you read that in his thoughts?”
“No. But would you honestly kill him to avoid things like that?”
“If it saved you?” Ella snapped. “If it saved us? Yes. In a heartbeat.”
Wouldn’t he do that for her? He’d done it a million times already. What had changed?
“I don’t judge you for that,” Tai said slowly. “I wish I still felt that way. But Eyadin wishes us well, Ella. He’s grateful to us. How can we just kill someone like that? No, not kill. How can we murder him?”