The White Road of the Moon

by Rachel Neumeier

  “May the God have pity on the poor beast, and take it gently!” Jaift murmured, her gaze also following that flight. Meridy nodded in agreement, though he didn’t look much inclined to go gently even to the God.

  Beside her, Diöllin said caustically, “Well, that was certainly worthwhile. I trust you enjoyed your little expedition. Nothing like keeping a low profile and slipping quietly into Cora Diorr.”

  Meridy tightened her lips against the urge to reply, since now a handful of the men were turning to regard her and Jaift. Not the lord—he was striding away toward the dead fire horse, everything about him eloquent of disgust and anger even from the back. But the older man, Connar, did not seem best pleased to see spectators in among his people. He swept one summing look across the two girls and frowned at them.

  Meridy straightened her back and met Connar’s hard gaze.

  Before she could speak, Jaift cleared her throat. “What a terrible disappointment,” she declared with ready sympathy. “And after getting it nearly all the way! What a magnificent beast it was!”

  Connar shifted his frown to Jaift. “A fool’s errand from start to finish,” he said flatly. “The other one did enough harm, didn’t it, and now, now nothing will do but to bring in another.” Losing his temper, the man began speaking more loudly and more quickly. “And for what? More than like to kill His little Highness, the God forfend! But try to persuade Her Highness of that! No, she must have a fire horse and she must see her son on its back, and never mind no one’s challenging his right to the throne, never mind how many men are savaged in the doing! She’s got half the privy council paying Southern hunters to leave off trapping useful fur in order to capture one of these monsters, and now my lord’s lost his senses and joined in—” He bit that off, breathing hard, apparently realizing that he was ranting about his lord’s affairs to perfect strangers.

  “Terrible,” said Jaift, shaking her head.

  “Terrible enough! Just as well it’s dead; no one would have tamed that one. Well, it’s done and the show’s over.” He eyed Meridy. “On your way to the city to present yourself to the princess-regent, are you? Yes, well, better she collect any black-eyed girls those Southerners left behind them than fire horses! You’d best get on your way, you and your—sister, is it?” But Meridy didn’t look anything like Jaift, so he added, “Or your friend, as may be.”

  Meridy bobbed her head in agreement. “Yes, excellent sir, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, girl, and don’t be behindhand to attend on Her Highness. If you mean to dwell in Cora Diorr, get a proper badge so folk know you’ve been counted and added to the rolls.” But after this curt instruction, Connar turned back to his own affairs and seemed to forget about Meridy and Jaift completely.

  Meridy was relieved by his lack of interest. She said to Jaift in a low voice as they turned away to rejoin the carter, “I never thought people would be less interested in a girl with black eyes! But obviously a witch must be on her way to Cora Diorr in answer to the prince’s law. Everyone knows that!”

  Jaift frowned at her. “I guess you need a badge to blend in, though.”

  “A Black Swan,” Diöllin said in her bodiless voice. “The White Swan for guardsmen and the Black Swan for witches. I thought you knew.”

  “How could we, if you didn’t say?” Meridy demanded, exasperated.

  Jaift said peaceably, “It doesn’t matter. If anyone asks, we’ll tell them you’re on your way to present yourself to Her Highness and haven’t a badge yet. Who would know otherwise?”

  Meridy shrugged.

  “And we’ll find a place to stay out on the edge of the city,” added Jaift, “and then keep close while we decide what to do, and how to find poor little Herren. Diöllin will know where that woman has him, I suppose. Or how to find out.” She hadn’t called the princess-regent by name or proper title since finding out how horribly she’d betrayed her own children. She said now, “Diöllin, I wonder—” But Jans had brought his wagon forward, his mules not objecting now that the excitement was over. So Jaift raised her voice and said instead, artlessly, “It was a blood bay stallion, but they had to shoot it. What a shame, everything going wrong after they’d got it so far!”

  “Everything going wrong! I should say so, if the monster got away from them this close to the city!” exclaimed Jans. “Just as well, though! I can hardly see as Princess Tiamanaith would want her little son anywhere near the creature, after what happened last time! But royalty are always a bit touched, you know, so you never know, do you?”

  Diöllin set her hands on her hips. “A bit touched. Really?”

  Meridy said hastily, “Yes, it was a terrible accident.”

  Rolling her eyes, Diöllin turned her back on them both.

  “Indeed, terrible! After that, you’d think Princess Tiamanaith, princess-regent now, of course, would have had the beast killed. But she didn’t, you know. She rides it herself now, so they say, though I haven’t seen it with my own eyes. But I heard she had poor Seneschal Roann arrested after the accident and appointed a man of her own to his place—”

  Diöllin whirled back toward him. “Roann Mahonis! Arrested?”

  Of course Jans didn’t hear her. He went on matter-of-factly, “And I must say, though I don’t know anything to the new man’s discredit, everyone knows Lord Roann was always a good, careful seneschal to the prince, and it seems awfully high-handed to me—”

  “High-handed!” cried Diöllin. “It’s a sin against the God!”

  “—to put in a new seneschal when nothing that happened was Lord Roann’s fault, by anything I know. If anyone should have known the girth was worn, it’s the stable master, that’s plain enough. Princess Tiamanaith had him arrested, too, and maybe she wasn’t wrong there. Me, though, I doubt it was any man’s fault. No one’s ever said fire horses are easily mastered! No, Prince Diöllonuor knew his risks, I grant him that. But Princess Tiamanaith had to blame someone, I suppose, and Lord Roann ought to have known better than to call down the God’s curse on her, especially as he’s a priest—”

  “He did not!” cried the princess. “As if he would!”

  “—and that’s why the princess-regent had him taken up by the palace guard,” concluded Jans, with some enthusiasm at the dramatic tale. “A bit harsh, one might say, but it must have been a terrible blow, losing her daughter as well as her lord. I’d have thought, myself, the princess-regent would’ve had enough of the monstrous beasts! But she’s an ambitious one by all accounts—”

  “Oh! This is impossible!” Diöllin stood, fists clenched, with the sunlight streaming through her, a girl of air and ice, but passionate and furious as though she were made of fire. All at once Meridy realized she and Jaift had been turning back and forth between the ghost and the carter in fascination. She quickly nudged Jaift, who jerked in surprise, then realized what Meridy meant and fixed her gaze firmly on the carter.

  The man only went on, unstoppably oblivious, “Anyway, it’s true the little prince would be guaranteed his father’s place if he could show himself astride a fire horse, ride it through the city, maybe do an entire progress through Cora Tal, show everyone whose blood he carries. You can imagine! Otherwise who knows, a child like that, a long regency with a woman on Cora Tal’s throne, any mischance might—”

  “No!” cried Diöllin. “I won’t let it happen!”

  And at the same moment, speaking over the ghost, Jaift said fiercely, “Don’t speak of such things!”

  The carter snapped his mouth shut, looking astonished. “Well, now,” he said. “Well, now. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m sure. I’m sure I wish the little prince the God’s good fortune!”

  Meridy said quickly, “It’s a fascinating and terrible story, and I guess we can be relieved this other fire horse had to be put down. What a tragedy for us all, and for Her Highness Princess Tiamanaith! But, um, as we’re coming up on Cora Diorr, perhaps you can recommend a place near the edge of the city for us to clean up before I present
myself.”

  As a means of turning the topic, this seemed terribly clumsy, but Jans did, of course, know of an inn near the edge of the city, and a chatty discourse on the superior quality of the inns and public houses of Cora Diorr was a small price to pay for a ride to the nearest. It was no trouble, he assured them, just a bit out of his way, well worth a few moments of his time so the girls wouldn’t have to walk an extra mile. Though he declared he also knew a much better inn a few streets farther in. “Not grand, mind, but plainspoken girls like you aren’t looking for grand, I shouldn’t think. The Rose and Lark is clean, and the food’s good. That one off there”—and he gestured in casual disdain toward the sign with its two stars and two moons and two leaping fish—“well, it’ll do, I suppose, but it can’t compare. Anybody in the city would tell you the same.”

  Jaift said diplomatically, “I’m sure you’re right, and we do thank you for your guidance and advice, but after all, we won’t stay there long. I see there’s a bathhouse, and that’s all that matters. A bath and a change, you know, and then we’ll make our way to the palace….” She glanced significantly at Meridy.

  “Of course, of course,” agreed the carter. “Very wise of you both; it’s best to start as you mean to go on, and nothing makes an introduction go off better than a few ribbons and a bit of lace, as they say. So, then, look there, that’s the way to Fifth—the straight streets are numbered, you know, starting from the direction of sunrise at midsummer round about that way, so it’s easy enough to keep track of where you are. Clever, isn’t it? Now, ask for the seneschal, the new one is Kais Norren, did I tell you? Well, mind you keep a courteous tongue with him—he’s already famous for his short patience with country folk—”

  “Wonderful,” Meridy muttered, and then remembered that of course they wouldn’t be seeking out the new seneschal at all, so his temper didn’t matter.

  “You’ll get on very well with all them up there,” promised Jans. “We’re friendly folk in Cora Diorr, even the witches. You’ll see.” And he clucked to his mules, which strode out with a will, knowing their stable was nearby.

  Meridy, at least, felt both deeply relieved and oddly bereft to lose sight of the carter and his wagon. She looked around—at the public house and the street and the city beyond. The street here seemed crowded, but not like Riam. Here, even right on the outskirts of Cora Diorr, with the circle of mountains rising up seemingly directly behind them, when they faced into the city, there were already a lot of buildings close together.

  Everything was built of that grayish and yellowish stone; there was almost no wood, and little plaster to soften the stone. Slate roofs, not cedar shingles; here and there maroon tiles not only on the rooftops but set into the gray walls. The city of Cora Diorr had been laid out within the encircling mountains and so of course it had been built of the same stone. It wasn’t unattractive, she thought, but…she couldn’t imagine feeling comfortable here. This city seemed cold and hard, and if you turned your back on it and looked outward, the horizon was too close and too steep. She thought if she lived here, she would start to feel confined and then trapped. She wondered if Prince Diöllonuor had ever let his witches leave, if they didn’t like Cora Diorr. Maybe not. Everyone knew the prince had wanted his witches to stay under his eye. Even she knew that.

  Good thing she wasn’t planning to actually meet the princess-regent. No. All they had to do was find Herren. Well, find Herren and then…after that the plan seemed a little indistinct. But once they had Herren with them and safe, surely they could sort out exactly what to do next. Herren had sounded like he had an idea, just before the princess-regent snatched him away….

  “Maybe you’d like it if you grew up here,” Niniol muttered beside her, squinting first at the mountains rising up at their backs and then at the city rising up before them. “Maybe it’d make you feel safe instead of…closed in.”

  He sounded exactly like she felt: stifled and a bit dismayed. Meridy found herself somehow relieved to have her own feelings echoed so clearly, but Jaift, looking around eagerly, said, “What do you mean? It’s so interesting. I’d like to find one of the white streets—numbered from the sunrise, Jans said. Isn’t that so interesting and organized? But numbers aren’t very pretty, so that’s a shame. They ought to have named them after…I don’t know. Clouds or white flowers or something. I want to see the palace better. It must be beautiful, don’t you think?”

  “But we shouldn’t actually go there…,” Meridy said doubtfully.

  “Oh, no, I don’t think that would be wise! Not without thinking things through.”

  “Thinking things through,” Diöllin repeated, her tone sardonic.

  Jaift tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. Meridy said quickly, before they could argue, “So what should we do first?”

  “We must find out what’s happened to Herren!” snapped Diöllin. “And Roann Mahonis! I still can’t believe she had him arrested!”

  Niniol said firmly, “First we need to get out of public view; that would be my suggestion.”

  “We’ll take a room,” said practical Jaift, with a cool look for Diöllin and a smile for Niniol. She went on briskly, “We need to get out of the street, especially Mery and, um…” She meant Diöllin, who might be spotted by any of the city’s witches, but was too sensible to say the princess’s name out loud now that they were in the city. “Then we must find out where there’s a branch of my family’s bank.”

  “Your mother won’t have changed the numbers on the accounts?” said Niniol. “If they’d hired couriers, they could have already changed the numbers in all the important towns in Cora Tal and Harann both….”

  “No, no, of course not! My family wouldn’t have done that!” Jaift sounded shocked. “Cut me off? Hardly! But…” Her tone became more thoughtful. “Asked for a message to be sent if I make a withdrawal…they might have done that. Hmm.”

  “Does it matter?” asked Meridy. “I mean, we have enough, don’t we?”

  “Well, yes.” But Jaift didn’t sound happy. “I should have drawn out more to start, but then you have to worry about pickpockets and things….You don’t want too much in your pouch, Mother always says….” She was starting to sound uncertain.

  “As long as we have enough for now,” Meridy said quickly. “What should we do, then?”

  “Well…” Jaift rubbed her lips, considering. “I suppose once we know more clearly where Herren is, it might be useful to know what rumors are running through the city about the princess-regent. The servants who work for Cora Diorr’s noble families will know who’s trustworthy, I expect, and who’s still loyal to the old seneschal. Servants always do know things, Mother says. Anyway, we can find out, and then we can decide what to do and where to take Herren once we get him back. But first we should make sure we have a place to stay.” She looked without enthusiasm at the public house with its two stars and two leaping fish.

  Very practical, all of that, Meridy agreed. She wished she had some general idea what it was they actually needed to do—what they could do, what they ought to do.

  She wished Carad Mereth would come back. She hoped that, despite all their fears, he was actually all right. She wished she could believe that he had bested Tai-Enchar’s servitor and hadn’t fallen into the witch-king’s power himself.

  More, even, than that, she wished Iëhiy would come back. She longed to be certain the wolfhound was all right. Well, of course Iëhiy wasn’t alive anyway, but that wouldn’t protect him from Tai-Enchar. She wished she knew everyone was all right, no matter how mysterious and annoying they might be.

  But she and Jaift only had each other, and the hope that the God favored them. That would have to be enough.

  The others were all heading toward the public house now. Before she followed them, Meridy turned once more to look back. A haze seemed to fill the warm air between the city and the encircling mountains, as though a transparent curtain had been drawn closing them all away from the open road. Closing them all into Cora
Diorr.

  Somewhere far away, between the city and the mountains, she almost thought she glimpsed the ghost of the fire horse, rearing against the sky with sunlight streaming through his transparent mane and limning the lines of his elegant head and long neck. He raked his claws against the sky, in defiance of men or perhaps death or the God, and flung himself forward.

  Then the sun went behind a wisp of cloud and the sunlight dimmed, and she was no longer certain whether she’d seen anything after all or only imagined it.

  “Mery! Are you coming?” called Jaift, half turning, and Meridy spared a second for one more searching look across the cluttered roads to the empty land beyond, turned her back to the fire horse—free now, unlike the rest of them, of life and the living—and went to follow her friend.

  Meridy wiggled her way around a corner tight enough that she had to let out her breath and twist through sideways. It wasn’t as though she were big. Secret passages sized for children! It was ridiculous.

  Though that wasn’t quite fair. Most of the time the passage was wide enough; it was only some of these corners. It must be trickier than she’d imagined to fit secret passages into walls. Not that she’d ever actually thought about it one way or another, the cottages in Tikiy not being well suited to such creative architecture.

  The important point was that the passages were here below the palace and that Diöllin knew about them.

  That first night they’d spent in Cora Diorr, Diöllin had made her way carefully all around the palace in the dead of night, when ghosts were hardest to see even for witches, and when she’d come back, she’d said she was certain her brother was beneath the palace, in the upper dungeons. “Where else could he be?” she had asked rhetorically. “He’s definitely within the outer palace walls and way down low beneath the earth, and there isn’t any place down there except the dungeons.”

  “Your mother put her little son in the…dungeons.” Jaift spoke, not exactly as though she didn’t believe Diöllin, but as though she didn’t really believe it. Not even after all they knew and had guessed about the princess-regent.