Liavek 3

by Will Shetterly

  Then he sensed it. An image formed before him of an enormous shiribi puzzle...just after the fatal string had been pulled. In a constant state of collapse, it was falling, falling, the pieces twisting and tumbling forever into chaos. He moaned in despair.

  "Interesting," said Sister Vanta softly. "Each mind chooses its own symbols for chaos. You seem to have accepted ours. Do not fear it. It is the way of things. Let the lies of illusion fall from your eyes. It only distresses you because you cling to lies. It will not harm you if you accept it. It will harm no one. There is no pain in emptiness. Give in to the truth."

  Aritoli shut his eyes, but the image remained. He did not know exactly what would happen if he surrendered as Sister Vanta wished, but a strong urge to fight welled up in him. Somehow he had to keep the image from falling, had to put it back together. Could he remember how Tafiya reassembled the puzzle? Aritoli tried to recall each movement of her fingers, imposing that vision over the chaos. Gradually, the falling pieces slowed, and Aritoli began to rebuild the puzzle in his mind.

  "It is foolish to cling to illusion," Sister Vanta snapped. "But you will see. These bonds will hold until I return at the showing. By that time your struggle will be over, and Truth will win."

  Aritoli heard Freneza and Sister Vanta depart. He tried to move, but still could not. He continued to build the image in his mind, but one piece's movement eluded him. If he could not remember, the game was lost.

  A sound in the room penetrated his concentration. "Who is there?" Aritoli demanded.

  "It's me! Tafi! I've got your cane. Are you all right?"

  "Oh, thank the Twin Forces! My dearest Tafi, you know not what pleasure it is to hear your voice again!"

  "I see Freneza finished the m—"

  "Don't look at it!"

  "Sshhhh! All right, all right, I'm not looking...it's kind of hard to see in the dark, anyway. Here. What's happened to you? You're all covered in sweat."

  Aritoli gratefully took his cane and began to draw power from it. "I am in the midst of a philosophical struggle with myself. I need your help. But first, drop the curtain over that mural."

  "Whatever you say." There was a rumble and a flop as Tafiya covered the painting. "Now what?"

  "You must tell me how you solved the shiribi puzzle."

  "What? Now? Ari, don't we have—"

  "Now! You must!"

  "Well I...I can't just describe it. It's something I have to do."

  "Then do it. Let me watch your hands."

  "What? Without a puzzle? That's impossible!"

  "I'll give you a puzzle. Come sit in front of me."

  Aritoli heard Tafiya slide to the floor before him and at last the advisor dared to open his eyes. With the image of the shiribi sticks still frozen before his eyes, Aritoli poured sorcerous light from his cane to the floor. There, in Tafiya's hands, he projected the image he saw. "Now," said Aritoli, "solve it."

  She stared in amazement for a moment, then began to go through the motions.

  "Slowly," Aritoli cautioned, making the images of the sticks and string move with her fingers. Still, it only took a couple of minutes before Tafiya held a perfect spherical construction in her hands.

  Aritoli reveled in the sight, the wholeness and solidity of the object. Tears came to his eyes. With a surge of magic from his cane, he broke the sorcerous bonds that held him to the chair and he fell forward to embrace Tafiya.

  She laughed with relief and said, "We'd better go, before anyone sees us."

  "No! We are not done here. I must somehow change the mural so that it's no longer a danger."

  "How can you do that if it's harmful to look at?"

  Aritoli thought for a moment. "There may be a way. By any chance, did Freneza leave his paint and brushes nearby?"

  "Yes. When I watched them leave, I heard him say he'd pick them up later this morning. I'll go get them." She returned with several paint pots under her arms.

  "Excellent." Aritoli projected the phantom shiribi puzzle flat against a blank wall adjoining the mural. He then expanded the puzzle and stretched out its image. The lines exactly matched those of the mural...except for the lower right corner. Aritoli magically bound the image to the wall so that it no longer required his complete concentration to maintain.

  "Now, Tafi, I want you to lift the rightmost corner of the curtain and paint over what is there. It doesn't matter what you paint, or with what colors, so long as your brushstrokes move as I direct."

  So Tafiya painted as Aritoli laid down lines of magical force to match those he saw on his projected image, lines that made the mural's broken puzzle solid and whole once more.

  •

  Aritoli looked up with a bland expression as the door to the chamber opened. The Merchant Councilors, silhouetted in the morning sunlight, paused at the threshold, surprised to find him sitting there. Sister Vanta and Freneza also feigned surprise as they entered.

  First Merchant iv N'Addam, a tall, thin woman in pale silk brocade, spoke first. "Pardon me, sir, I don't mean to be rude, but who are you and what are you doing here?"

  "I am Aritoli ola Silba, Advisor to Patrons of the Arts," Aritoli said in as much of a monotone as possible. "I am here at Sister Vanta's invitation. She wished me to come to understand the ways of the Shatter-Eye School. And so I have." He looked at the priest who nodded, smiling.

  "Oh. So you have already seen the mural," said the First Merchant.

  "Yes. It is a work of genius."

  Freneza, who had hovered anxiously behind Sister Vanta since they entered, finally seemed to relax.

  "Well, I'm glad you approve, sir," said the First Merchant. "Very glad. Might you do us the honor, then, of performing the unveiling?"

  "Of course." Aritoli pulled a rope and raised the curtain as the Councilors gathered around to watch.

  Perplexed murmurs filled the room as they beheld Freneza's work. Aritoli heard the artist and Sister Vanta gasp and whisper behind him.

  The First Merchant coughed in embarrassment. "Well, I will say it's...innovative, Freneza. But I confess it's not what I expected. I'm not sure I could stand to look at those swirling lines and colors for hours at a time."

  "Ah, but you see," said Aritoli, "the genius lies beneath. In the flow of sorcerous force that Freneza, with the help of Sister Vanta, placed within. Behold!" Flourishing his cane, he caused the magical design to blaze forth with light.

  There came ooohs and aaahs and scattered applause. Freneza glared at Aritoli with fists clenched at his side. Sister Vanta's face was white with rage. Neither spoke.

  "Yes, I see what you mean, Master ola Silba," said the First Merchant, "but that feature of the mural wasn't apparent until you pointed it out. I'm not sure I'm pleased with the work as it stands. Perhaps if Freneza had made the painted design match the magical one, it would have worked better."

  Just then, a heavy man in gaudy silks came forward and said, "Oh, it's not all that bad. Look, I like that cute little fish in the corner."

  Aritoli looked and, sure enough, in the lower right-hand corner was painted a small fish—the advisor wasn't certain if it was supposed to be a shark or a minnow, but it was very much Tafiya's style. He glanced at her and she shrugged and mouthed, "You said I could paint anything."

  The First Merchant cocked her head, chin in hand, and regarded the corner. "Why, yes, a charming little creature. But it looks rather out of place off by itself. Freneza, could you put more of those fish in the mural—maybe just scatter a few throughout? It would make the mural much more pleasant."

  Freneza snarled and said, "No! I do not paint cute little animals! I hate cute little animals! You are all fools! That is not my work. I take no responsibility for it. It's ruined! My mural is ruined and I want nothing more to do with it!" The artist stormed out of the chamber, with Sister Vanta gliding silently behind.

  The First Merchant said, ''I'd heard that artists were temperamental, but that was uncalled for. What did he mean, 'that's not my work'?"

&nbs
p; Aritoli cleared his throat. "He was no doubt referring to the fish, which was a later addition. You see, vandals broke in last night and slightly damaged that corner of the painting. Fortunately, I discovered this early enough to attempt repair. What you see there is the work of your own Councilor-Elect, Tafiya Mielo, who was kind enough to lend her skills at short notice."

  Eyes opening wide, the First Merchant said, "Oh. What a pleasant surprise! Tafi, I had no idea you were so talented. Well, a shame about the vandals. I'm surprised our security was inadequate. Still, that bit's good. Say, um...if Freneza wants nothing more to do with this, do you think you would be willing to finish the mural? We'd even give you part of the fee and publicity."

  "Why, I would love to!" said Tafiya, beaming. "But first, I must speak to my agent." She pointed a hand at Aritoli, then took his arm and led him aside. It took Aritoli considerable effort to keep from laughing.

  ''There are still some things I'd like to understand before I touch that mural again. Like what exactly was that spell Freneza painted in?"

  "So far as I could tell, it made the mind susceptible to despair, slowly destroying one's faith in reality."

  "Do you think ola Thinoli requested such a spell?"

  "I doubt it was described to him that way. I imagine Sister Vanta told him it would cause the merchant representatives to become careless in their work. Ola Thinoli would then have proof that the merchants were unfit for the Council. This would make the position of the nobility stronger, and the Church of Truth would have powerful new converts."

  "Master ola Silba?" said the First Merchant behind him.

  "Yes?" Aritoli turned to see iv N'Addam frowning slightly.

  "There remains one slight problem. This mural, and showing, was sponsored by First Lord ola Thinoli. I'm not sure how kindly he'll take to being told about the vandalism and change in mural artists."

  "My dear lady, you need say nothing at all to ola Thinoli. Neither I nor the guard saw the vandalism last night. And if you ask the artist Freneza and Sister Vanta, I think they will claim they saw nothing as well."

  "Is that so? And just what did you see last night?"

  "Oh, it's all rather vague now. I seem to have forgotten. In fact, you might tell ola Thinoli that, if he should ask. My memory of it will probably remain lost forever, unless something happens to remind me."

  "I see."

  "If he must know about the fishes," Tafiya added, "you could say it's in honor of the new prosperity of our Minnow Island fishermen."

  "Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea! And we can have a second, a public showing when Tafi finishes! I say, there hasn't been such an exciting day in Council since that cat was made councilor. Thank you, Master ola Silba." The First Merchant bowed and walked away, smiling.

  Turning back to Tafiya, Aritoli saw the man in gaudy silks saying to her, "Oh, that little fishy is so charming, Tafi! Do you do commissions? I know my wife would love to have something like that on the wall of our salon."

  "Well," Tafiya replied carefully, "I'd have to think about it." She looked at Aritoli.

  The councilor rushed up to the advisor and patted his shoulder. "Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't think of leaving you out of this. You'll get a good finder's fee, I promise you! Tell me when you might want to start work, Tafi, and I'll have you come over to see my home." He bustled off, grinning.

  Tafiya raised her brows at Aritoli. "Can you believe this? That little fish has brought me more luck than I get on my birthday!"

  "The vagaries of taste—" Aritoli began, then he looked back at the mural and frowned.

  "What is it?'

  "You know, Tafi, I worried so much about the magic in this 'broken puzzle,' I didn't even think what a 'complete puzzle' spell would do. But that spell remains in the mural. I can feel its power."

  "You think the way we altered the spell is responsible for my—our—luck?"

  "What would a complete shiribi puzzle symbolize to you?"

  "Hmm. A solid structure out of fragile pieces? Unlikely parts creating a pleasing shape? I don't know."

  "Nor do I. But so long as it seems good, I don't worry." Tafiya laughed. "And the Church of Truth will be credited with a spell that reduces some of their beloved chaos. Oh, look! They're bringing in the refreshments. Let's have some breakfast."

  As Tafiya led Aritoli away, he took one last glance at the mural. As he did, he could swear that the little fish winked at him.

  "The Rat's Alley Shuffle" by Charles de Lint

  SAFFER WAS SIlTING on a flat stone on the strip of land between the salt marsh and the Levar's Highway about a half mile or so west of Liavek. She had her back to the road, her feet in the couch grass, and her cittern on her lap. The song she was working on was a new one and it was going well, except for the bridge between the verses. She'd tried a dozen different bits and pieces, but nothing fit. It was much more interesting watching the birds in the marsh.

  Closer to the sea, black and white oyster-catchers with their long orange bills were feeding among the stones, catching mostly marshcrabs. Four or five terns were hovering over a stretch of open water, slender wings and long tails outstretched as they dropped down to skim the surface. A cormorant flew from right to left across Saffer's field of vision in a straight purposeful line, and she wondered where it was going in such a hurry. Near where she was sitting, a group of ducks were watching her, hoping for more of the bread bits that she'd shared with them earlier.

  The song, she decided, should have been about birds. Especially if she was going to work on it here. But this was one of her private quiet places—even so close to the road as it was—and she had to get the song finished. Liavek was noisy at the best of times, unless one could afford private lodgings in the Canal District or a house on the here-now/gone-again Wizard's Row. She lived in Rat's Alley and the only privacy she had there was a box of a room that was stifling at the moment. If only she'd learned magic instead of music, she thought sometimes, invested her luck in a nice little bauble that she could hang around her neck perhaps, things might have been different.

  But as it was, it was the month of Fruit, she was always next to broke, the city was too noisy for her to think, and she had a commission from Tapper Tan Burnie that would be delivered late if it wasn't finished today. She was supposed to write a catchy little piece for him, something that prominently mentioned his tavern, The Quick's End, with a tune simple enough for any street singer to sing and perhaps a touch of something hidden in the music to make listeners thirsty.

  She played through the newest version of the bridge a couple of times, lightly plucking the cittern's double strings, and frowned when it still didn't sound quite right.

  "Duck farts," she told her attentive mallard audience. "That's what it sounds like."

  "But coming from you," a voice said from the road behind her, "even farts sound melodious." Recognizing that voice, Saffer didn't bother to turn around. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

  "I've come to make you rich."

  The ducks swam off as the newcomer came down from the road and gingerly chose a stone of his own to sit on. He gave Saffer a grin and stretched out his long legs. Narrow, spidery fingers adjusted the knot of the scarf tied at his throat. He seemed to be all angles and bony limbs, but anyone thinking him awkward was in for a rude surprise if they sat down to play cards with him.

  "Hello, Saffer," he said. "Lovely day, don't you think?"

  "Hello, Dumps. How did you find me?"

  "I asked Meggy Thistle. 'Meggy,' I said, 'where's Saffer who I plan to make rich?' and she sent me down here. She told me you were hunting tunes—or was it loons?"

  "Well, I've found my loon," Saffer said as she laid her instrument down on its quilted bag by her feet.

  "Is that the way you always talk to those who mean to make you rich?"

  "The last time you meant to make me rich, you almost had us both sent to Crab Isle. We're just lucky it was my brother in the Guard who picked us up and that everyone got their
levars back."

  Dumps waved off her worry. "Sink 'em if they can't take a joke. Anyway, this time I've got a commission for us that's perfectly legal."

  Saffer shrugged and picked up her cittern. "I've already got a commission."

  "It'll be perfectly safe—lose my luck if I'm lying."

  Saffer shook her head and began her tune again.

  "Five levars for you," Dumps said. "And no risk."

  The tune faltered. "Five levars?"

  "Guaranteed. "

  "No risk?"

  "None at all."

  "I don't have to get dressed up again?"

  "Not so much as a glove."

  Saffer gave it a few moments of serious consideration. Her chestnut hair was cut very short at the front, top, and sides, but fell in a long braid down her back. This had come about from one of Dumps's plans of disguising her as a young man for some trick or other that never quite got off the ground. She'd ended up liking the raffish look it gave her—but that came weeks after walking about in a big floppy hat. She ran her hand through the short hair at the top of her head.

  "Just as you are, and your cittern as it is," Dumps said, following the motion of her hand. He knew what she was thinking.

  "All right," Saffer said. "I'll listen."

  "You won't regret this, Saffer. Odd's End, but it's sweet."

  "I said I'd listen, Dumps. I didn't say I'd do it. Whatever 'it' is."

  "Then listen," he said. "Listen and weep for the beauty of it."

  •

  At least one good thing had come from listening to Dumps, Saffer thought later as she was walking down the Street of the Dreamers. She had the bridge for Tapper Tan's commission worked out—she'd just drone for a couple of bars between verses. Tapper Tan had liked both words and music and paid her on the spot. The first thing she did with her new wealth was buy a set of cittern strings at Whistler's Corner, which was dear to her heart for one very good reason: Its goods were cheap. Her purse a touch lighter and the pocket where she'd stuffed the strings a tad heavier, she made her way over to the Levar's Park where she bought a cup of kaf and a few sticky buns, then sat down in one of her favorite nooks to watch the crowds go by.