by K. C. May
“Well, I’m on your side.”
“Hey, do you want to come with me to the docks? I want to see if Sundancer’s there.” She’d brought her flute with her, intending to use it to identify the day’s tone. Elder Kassyl was no longer there to record them in his book, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pick up where he’d left off.
His face brightened. “Sure. Now that you’re the Gatekeeper, you’re supposed to take an enforcer with you whenever you leave the premises, and I’m happy to go with you. Besides, it’ll be nice to finally meet this dolphin friend of yours.” He looked her over. “Are you sure you can walk that far?”
“Believe it or not, walking helps,” she said.
“What about the red robe? Won’t people, I don’t know, accost you on the street?”
She held up the black cloth. “Not with this on. They call it the black mantle of shame. Help me put it on, will you?”
The hike to the docks took longer than usual because of Jora’s body soreness, but along the way, she felt her joints start to loosen.
The mantle had its benefits. Even citizens outside the Order knew that anyone wearing it was to be shunned. In spite of her red Gatekeeper robe, or perhaps because of the combination of the two, people scurried out of their path and avoided even making eye contact with her, though she sensed their stares and whispers.
Most of the fishers had gone by the time they arrived, and the seagulls with them. The smells of the seaweed and salt water were strong but welcoming, the scents she’d long associated with home. The memory of it was both comforting and painful.
“Does she loiter here?” Korlan asked, looking out over the water.
“She usually comes close in the mornings and hunts around here, then goes where she goes later. If I want to talk to her, I need to come as close to sunrise as I can.” Jora pulled the flute out of her robe, lifted it to her lips, and played the greeting, the first few notes of the Song of the Sea Spirit.
“Ahoy, Sun Dancer.”
A distant whistle sounded. “Ahoy. Ahoy, Autumn Rain.”
“That’s her. She’s coming.”
“What are you going to say to her?”
“I want to ask her about those warrior statues around the Legion headquarters.” She didn’t mention her conversation with Retar or the information she’d found in the book of tones. Though she thought of Korlan as a friend and didn’t think he would betray her, Milad could use the Mindstream to Observe this conversation later, and she didn’t want him to know.
“What about them?”
“Who they are. Why they’re in stone. That sort of thing.”
Sundancer’s smiling face rose up out of the water, and she twittered happily. “I am happy see you, Autumn Rain.”
“I am happy see you, Sun Dancer. This man is my friend. He helped me fight my enemy. I not know song name.”
“I name man Shark Fighter. Shark Fighter is Autumn Rain friend and Sun Dancer friend.”
Jora laughed. “She named you Sharkfighter because I told her you helped me defeat Elder Sonnis.”
Korlan pushed out his chest and looked around with an air of superiority. “Yah, groping blindly while bleeding to death is a rare heroism.”
Jora laughed.
“I wasn’t much help, really. You should tell her that.”
“Don’t be modest. You were more help than you realize.” To Sundancer, she said, “Shark Fighter is bashful.”
“Shark Fighter come swim,” Sundancer said.
“She’s inviting you to swim with her. Do you want to?”
“No, do you?” Korlan grabbed Jora by the upper arms and pretended to push her into the water, holding her tight to make sure she didn’t actually fall in.
She squealed anyway, taken by surprise. “Gadfly!” she said as she tried to swat him.
He laughed and jumped out of her reach.
Below, Sundancer watched the exchange with interest. “Shark Fighter loves Autumn Rain.”
“No,” Jora answered. “We are friends.”
The dolphin twittered a laugh. “Shark Fighter loves Autumn Rain.”
“Stop,” Jora said aloud, laughing. She lifted the flute to her lips once again. “I talked to your friend last night.”
Sundancer went still, her eyes wide. “The god?”
“Yes. We talked about warrior statues. He said I can free them from the stone.”
“Yes. You can free but not like Calling,” Sundancer said. “You cannot command them like allies.”
“What’s she saying?” Korlan asked.
“Hush. I’ll tell you later.” She lifted the flute to her lips. “I understand. I want free only one. If one becomes friend, then I free more.”
“Wise,” Sundancer said.
“The Spirit Stone said I can borrow ally power, but I not know what phrase,” Jora said. “Book not say.”
“Two commands you must know. First is calling. This you know already. Second is borrowing. Ally teaches you command you want know, and you sing borrowing command plus ally command. This power is dangerous, Autumn Rain.”
“Dangerous how?”
Sundancer explained that every ally had a particular power which she could harness temporarily for herself, such as to touch someone to put them to sleep, turn someone to stone, swim fast, or breathe underwater. If she used magic on herself that didn’t expire or get interrupted, like sleep, she would be like that forever. “Ally magic can be removed by the next Gatekeeper, but Gatekeeper casted cannot. Beware use magic on yourself. Never use statue on yourself. You will be statue forever.”
Understanding flared in her mind. “Is that what happened to the Spirit Stones?”
“Yes,” Sundancer said. “First generation of stewards swam to faraway places. They beached and used borrowed magic to statue selves. They wanted to become historians. If modern whales lost the ancestral knowledge, they can teach. They not know Gatekeeper cannot restore them. Hundreds of years passed. Thousands. No one can restore them to flesh. Not before, not now, not ever.”
Jora cast her eyes down in sadness. To think of them trapped in stone for all eternity wrenched her heart. There had to be a way to free them. There had to.
“To command ally magic, you whistle borrowing command, ’Trust into my own hands your power of…’ and you name power. When you want use power, whistle power name.”
“May I use power when I want?”
“Use before next sunrise or you must borrow again.”
Jora asked a few more questions to ensure she understood the process. In the case where an ally could whistle, it could teach her the command she wanted to borrow, but if not, she would need to consult Sundancer. Though Po Teng couldn’t whistle with his plate-like mouth, he had no trouble humming the command for her to release someone from stone. With Sundancer there to supervise, she tried the borrowing command.
“Trust into my own hands your power of Free from stone, let blood flow through.”
“Yes,” Sundancer said. “Now you can whistle release command to free warrior. Must touch until phrase stops.”
Jora took that to mean until she finished saying the words. “I understand. Thank you, Sun Dancer.”
“Borrow not powers you cannot stop yourself. Be careful, Autumn Rain.”
“I will.”
“I go now fish. You come tomorrow?”
“I try. Goodbye, Sun Dancer.” Jora stood and waved.
“Goodbye, Autumn Rain. Goodbye, Shark Fighter.” Sundancer waved one flipper at her before twittering and swimming away.
“She said goodbye to you,” she told Korlan.
“What else did she say?”
She looked at him innocently. “The water is getting cool, the fish are slower and easier to catch, and she’ll soon be swimming south for the winter.” She laughed at his skeptical expression, then took him by the hand. “Come on. I have to study before I meet Bastin for my lessons.”
Chapter 12
Korlan bid Jora goodbye in the justice
building and watched her walk stiffly toward the dormitory. Though he was disappointed that she didn’t trust him enough to reveal what she and the dolphin had talked about, the fact that the dolphin had given him such a noble name made him smile. Sharkfighter. Jora must have overstated his role in their confrontation with Elder Sonnis. A name like Wounded Spectator was more appropriate.
“There you are,” Trond said, approaching from the other direction. “Milad wants you in his office.”
He headed upstairs with a bounce in his step, repeating the name in his mind. Sharkfighter. Yah, that was him. Korlan Sharkfighter Rastorfer, champion enforcer of the Justice Bureau. Other enforcers had nicknames, like Gruesome, Nob, Brutal, and Chop. Korlan wondered whether he could get them to start calling him Sharkfighter.
When Korlan walked into Milad’s office, the boss glanced up through a pair of spectacles. “Where’ve you been?”
“You wanted me to make sure Jora doesn’t investigate the smuggling, so I was with her. She’s taking her lessons now.”
The justice captain continued writing. “You haven’t answered my question.”
Korlan didn’t know how much Milad knew about her relationship with Sundancer, and he certainly didn’t want to be the one to give away a secret she’d wanted kept quiet. “She needed to walk the stiffness out of her joints. We strolled to the docks and back.”
Milad sighed and took his spectacles off, tossing them onto his desk. “Are we going to have a problem?”
“No, sir. No problem.”
“Then why are you being evasive?”
Korlan swallowed. Had the boss been Observing him? “She wasn’t investigating the smuggling. What more do you want me to say?”
“I want you to be forthcoming. I want to know whether I can trust you.”
“Sir, I’m doing my job. I’m doing what you told me to do.”
“Then either you’re an idiot, or I didn’t make myself clear. Which is it?”
Korlan narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t make yourself clear. Sir.”
“I want you to tell me everything she does, where she goes, who she speaks to, and what they talk about. She didn’t go to the god forsaken docks to work the kinks out of her joints, and if you think I’m going to believe that, you are an idiot.” Milad rose to his feet, slowly, deliberately, and went around the desk. With his nose only inches from Korlan’s, he said, “If I need leverage to get you to do your job, I’ll get it. Do we understand each other now, or do you need me to be more specific?”
Korlan’s heart sputtered. Milad was threatening his wife and daughter. He narrowed his eyes at the man. You bastard. “I understand,” he said, his upper lip stiff.
“Do not test me, Rastorfer. I’m not a patient man.” He went back around the desk and sat down again, leaning back in his chair as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Now tell me what she did at the docks.”
“She played her flute, and a dolphin came.”
“The one she calls Sunsplasher?”
“Sundancer,” he said, relieved that he hadn’t given anything away. “Yes.”
“And?” Milad snapped his fingers a few times. “Come on. I haven’t got all day. What’d she want with the dolphin?”
“I can’t understand their language, so I don’t know what she wanted, other than to greet her friend. She introduced me. That’s all I know for sure. And the dolphin gave me a name.”
The justice captain smirked. “What was it? Pea-brain?”
“Sharkfighter,” Korlan said, lifting his chin proudly.
Milad rolled his eyes. “Did she tell you afterward what the conversation was about?”
“She said they talked about the water and fish, that’s it. Observe me in the Mindstream if you don’t believe me. I don’t know what else they talked about.” Once the words were out of his mouth, he realized it was a lie. She’d mentioned wanting to ask about the warrior statues. He licked his lips, hoping Milad wouldn’t take his suggestion.
After a moment, Milad gave a wave of his hand. “All right. Dismissed.”
“What are my duties today?” Korlan asked.
“Find Gruesome. He’s going to issue a punishment. I want you to assist him. After that, follow her, talk to her, be her friend. Try to get her to tell you what if anything she’s learned about the smuggling.”
In other words, trick her into revealing more than she might otherwise. “Yes, sir.”
“Now get the hell out of my office.”
In the dining hall over breakfast, Jora sat with Adriel, the only person willing to brave the stigma of associating with someone wearing the black mantle of shame. Jora explained that she was wearing the mantle because of her refusal to relinquish her books to the dominee.
Adriel grinned. “You’re tough.”
“I’ve never been one to hold a grudge, but they’re teaching me well. She’s not getting my books, and that’s final.”
“You have to admit,” Adriel said, “that they have a good argument about Elder Kassyl’s book belonging to the Justice Bureau. All of his possessions did. I spent some time today looking it up.”
“But he gave it to me.”
“I know, but all our possessions belong to the Bureau, too. They practically own us like a farmer owns a plow.”
Jora shook her head. “I never agreed to that. They can’t just spring these rules on us when they decide they want something we have.”
“Listen, you’ve seen all the pages in his book, right?” Adriel asked. “Why not give it to her? It won’t do her any good without your journal, and by Mindstreaming your own past, you can look up anything you need to.”
Jora hadn’t looked at all the pages, but she could. “You’re right,” she said, tapping her spoon against the edge of her bowl. “Giving her the book of tones might pacify her for a time, but she’ll still insist on having my journal, too.”
“If you tear out the pages you wrote before taking your oath, then she can’t claim you’ve desecrated Justice Bureau property. Those pages didn’t belong to the bureau in the first place.”
Jora nodded slowly, considering the strategy. They were solely hers, those earlier pages, the ones containing her notes about Azarian, the language of Sundancer and the Spirit Stones. Even Elder Devarla would have to agree they didn’t belong to the Justice Bureau.
“And if you burn them, there’s no hope of recovering them,” Adriel whispered, a wicked glint in her eye.
Jora laughed. “They could simply rewrite them by Mindstreaming to my past and Observing me making the notes.”
“Only if you let them. What good is the barring hood if you don’t use it to keep people from your valuable secrets?”
“You’re so bad,” Jora said with a grin. “I like that about you.”
Adriel winked. “What are friends for if not to lead each other into mischief?”
When Elder Devarla entered the room, conversation faltered. Her demeanor was different than usual, more forceful. Urgent. She crooked a finger. “Jora, come with me. Now.”
“Elder? Have I done something wrong?” she asked, standing.
“Something has happened.”
Jora stood and picked up her breakfast tray.
“Go,” Adriel said. “Leave the tray. I’ll put it away for you.”
She gave her friend a grateful nod and followed the elder out of the room and down the hallway. “What’s wrong, Elder?”
“Let’s go to my office where we can talk privately.” Elder Devarla strode with purpose along the walkway to the justice building, then upstairs to her office with Jora struggling to keep up. Though the ache in her hips and knees was mostly gone, she felt it renewed when she needed to hurry as she did now.
The elder’s office office smelled of mint and citrus. A half-eaten orange sat on her desk atop a folded napkin.
Elder Devarla gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk and shut the door. “Please, have a seat.”
Jora did as she was instructed, but the urgency of
the news had her on edge. She sat tall in the chair, leaning slightly forward as she followed the elder with her gaze.
“As I expected,” the elder woman said, sitting across the desk from Jora, “the dominee was quite displeased with your refusal to give her the books. I urged her to give me time to convince you, but she said she had her own means to get what she wanted.” Elder Devarla took a breath. “Jora, I’m sorry. Your brother, Finn, has been arrested.”
“What?” Jora said, standing. “He’s done nothing wrong. How could he be arrested?”
“Well, that’s not quite true, I’m afraid. His sergeant was tasked with telling him what you’d done. I questioned the delicacy of his words, and so I Observed the conversation. It appears the sergeant told Finn you went on a murderous rampage, killing an elder and the four enforcers sent to bring you to trial.”
“Murderous rampage?” Jora asked. While it wasn’t completely a lie, it certainly sounded far worse than “justice for slaughtering two thousand people.” She lowered herself back into the chair. “But why was he arrested?”
“Finn didn’t believe him. He accused the sergeant of lying and then punched him. Knocked him out cold.”
Jora laughed. The notion was so absurd, it couldn’t possibly be true. Finn had never stuck up for her when they were younger. He let his friends and other children ridicule her mercilessly for being different, standing by doing nothing. While he only teased her in the privacy of their home, he never stood up for her when others did it. Not like Boden did. Even their younger brother, Loel, came to her aid more than Finn ever had. “You must have the wrong man. That doesn’t sound like Finn. He’d never hit an officer in my defense.”
“Well, he did this time. Observe him yourself if you don’t believe me.”
Jora snorted a chuckle. What hapless wretch had they mistaken for Finn, telling him a lie about his sister? She opened the Mindstream and found the moment in question—her brother Finn speaking with another man, one with a stripe on his sleeve. She watched in mute horror as rage twisted Finn’s features a moment before he threw a punch, connecting squarely with the sergeant’s jaw. The officer was unconscious before he hit the ground. Finn fell to his knees, straddling him, grasped him by the shirt and punched him again. Two other men pulled him off.