The Cloudship Trader

by Kate Diamond

  “It’s done,” Miris said, grim. Ney looked to Belest. “Tell me what happened. Where did this come from? And how did it come to Tilsa?”

  Slowly, watching Miris’s eyes all the while in fear of that sharp displeasure, Belest retold what had happened in Rubie’s office. Something brushed against him as he talked, so gentle that at first he did not notice until the breezes that curled around his shoulder flowed onwards to wrap around Arden. Minwe, the Brightblade’s Wind?

  “Again, they come from the north,” Miris said when he was done. “And sold as tokens of the gods, like the pendants you heard of in Rysen, Arden.”

  “I still wonder about that. Perhaps the man misremembered, or the merchant came from Tilsa but hadn’t returned there recently…”

  “Or the guards missed something,” Miris suggested cynically.

  “That could be so. Was there anything to be found in the market?” Arden asked, but he did not sound as if he expected a positive answer.

  Miris shook nir head. “I saw no trace of Stars, and the guards at the port have seen nothing but common thieves and unremarkable smugglers. But I found coats and such for the mountains, and I met a Ruenwin woodcarver who knew something of the carvings on that chest. He has invited us to his Aerie to consult with a master of the craft.”

  “So you’ve been successful,” Arden said, wondering at Miris’s dissatisfaction in the face of nir accomplishments. His conclusion did not cheer nem.

  Ney drew two letters from nir pocket. “I’ve been waylaid. To Tanhar.” Was this the source of nir frustration?

  Arden sighed, rocking back on his heels a moment. “That is a complication.”

  “We can’t afford to be delayed.”

  “I can take the letters to Tanhar,” Arden offered. “And fly on to Miren from there. If one pilgrim had a Star, others might too. It’s a difficult journey overland, I can’t fault anyone for seeking protective charms. I can ask the priests there what they’ve seen.”

  “If they’re not already complicit in the trade…” Miris grumbled.

  Something twisted in Belest’s gut at the thought of Arden leaving him alone with Miris and Seres. It was an unjust, ungrateful thought, though. Miris had given him so much already, and Arden certainly had better things to do than keep him company.

  “I can spread the news to the south and to Tansira,” Arden continued. “We need the whole world watching out, if we are to stop this.”

  “No!” Miris protested. “This must not go any further than it already has. If the world knew Stars could be captured…”

  “We have to get the word out, Miris. We can’t track down every stolen Star with just the three of us.”

  “Then tell the rest of the fliers. They can be trusted. But no one else.”

  “People need to know what they’re buying,” Arden insisted. “There’s a reason the merchants are being so secretive about the true nature of their items. Why they’re calling them Flameforged instead of selling them openly as Stars. If people knew, they would recognize the cruelty, and they would object.”

  “Or covet them all the more,” Miris countered.

  “Perhaps some will. But most will see the cruelty in it.”

  “Brena did,” Belest put in. “When I told her the necklace was a Star, she-” Miris turned on him, and he immediately wished he’d stayed silent.

  “You told her?” ney demanded. Belest shrank back.

  Arden stepped between them. “Stop it. Listen to him.” He nodded to Belest.

  “She- she asked me why we were so concerned about the charm. The Star. When I told her, she worried it was lonely and wanted me to take it home.”

  Miris sighed. “If only the rest of the world respected spirits as much.”

  “We need to trust them,” Arden said, the seriousness of his words somewhat spoiled by the Wind ruffling his hair and tickling his arms. “We know what we need to do next. On to the Aerie, and on to Miren. But that’s for the morning. Tonight, there’s a friend of mine who would very much like for us to visit.”

  Their debate continued to ring in Belest’s head as Arden again led them through the city streets to the noodle-seller’s house. Brena had wished to free the Star when she learned the truth. But Terthe… had ney known all along what ney sold? Somehow, Belest found it hard to doubt that ney had. How would others react? Some would reject a trade in kidnapped spirits, certainly. But others might see only the beauty and rarity of such things. The question was, who would have the greater influence? He did not know, and once they arrived, did not have time to ponder it.

  Fela’s home was a two-pavilion affair nestled beside an underpass lovingly painted in night-sky blues and purples and speckled with silver stars that glinted in the lamplight. One of her grandchildren met them at the door, a young woman just past Naming age, who had her grandmother’s unruly hair and round nose in a cheerful, open face.

  “So you’ve decided to join us after all!” Fela greeted them, grinning. She ushered them inside. “Come in, be welcome!” Belest would have thought such a structure would be dim and difficult to light, but it was not, not with the lamps and the firelight and the high angled windows that looked out onto the sunset-streaked sky.

  “The others will be here shortly. I’m sure they’ll have lots of questions. Feel free to push Miriel aside if she gets too insistent - she tends to forget her manners when she’s excited. Hari, Tan, it’s time to get ready,” she called, bringing them hurrying to her side. Hari, the granddaughter, swept aside the long curtains dividing the room while her younger sib spread brightly-colored cushions across the floor for their guests to sit on. Many guests. It quickly became apparent that Fela’s home went far beyond the walls of her little house as cousins and friends and their children streamed from the neighboring dwellings to join them, bearing all sorts of food and games. Fela welcomed them all and set the grandchildren to serving slices of hearty bread and cups of wine.

  As soon as it was clear that Miris did not need him for anything, Belest found a warm corner by the hearth, out of the way but not especially hidden. He sat and watched for most of the evening, grateful that nobody expected him to talk the whole time, or be charming, or do anything other than enjoy himself. The arrival of two fliers to the tiny house was certainly a cause for celebration, he thought, watching Arden regale a group of spellbound children with tales of adventure across the seas.

  Fela’s husband Rine, a short man with a bushy mustache, knelt by the fire, busy skewering and roasting cubes of meat from a bowl brimming with sauce. An irresistible smell rose up with the wisps of smoke.

  “Secret recipe,” he said when he noticed Belest watching, and winked. “I’ve got to have something to keep them coming back season after season.”

  At last Rine crossed from the hearth with a platter piled with steaming skewers, pausing to scold a small child for leaping for their portion before it was offered. By the time he had circled the room and returned to the fire the platter was empty and Rine had started on a second. Belest knew why as soon as he bit into his piece. Fela wasn’t the only skilled cook in her family.

  Belest was content listening to Arden’s stories and Fela’s cheerful chatter, and did not need more than that. They did not ignore him, though, and made sure he was fed and entertained and happy. At some point after nightfall, a family from across the street invited him to join in a card game. Belest knew nothing of the rules, and the suits on the Tilsan cards were unfamiliar, but they were patient with him.

  Seng won the first round. “Flags trump swords,” he explained, brushing long black hair out of his face.

  “Unless you’re playing by tavern rules,” his wife Livi added. “Then swords trump everything except the Chief of Flowers.”

  “Tavern rules are no fun,” Livi’s sib Jacet put in.

  “You just say that because you won’t bother learning a new set of strategies,” Livi teased. “And you, hold still…” She pulled a hairclip from her pocket and tackled Seng, holding him down u
ntil she had his hair all pinned back.

  “Livi!” He pushed her aside, but he was laughing.

  “Settle down, you two. It’s Palace rules today. Five tokens to Seng, one to Belest, two to Livi, and three to me.” Jacet distributed the little painted stones and dealt another hand. On the other side of the room, one of the cousins, a third named Olan, took out a flute and began to play, starting with a sweet and gentle melody that slowly turned into something faster and livelier. The children danced, delighted and carefree, as their elders applauded and requested favorite pieces.

  The game continued for maybe an hour or so. Belest even managed to win a hand or two out of sheer luck, though the game eventually went to one of his opponents.

  “You’re good for a first timer,” Seng said, gathering the cards and tokens into their box and sliding the lid shut.

  “Wouldn’t put money on it yet, though,” Jacet warned, waggling a finger.

  Belest remembered the laughter more than anything else, the fond jokes and friendly teasing. And he began to consider that perhaps it wasn’t Miris and Arden’s status that had brought these people together. Fela and her family would have welcomed any guests with just as much generosity as they did the Windsworn. That was what made their small house far warmer than the halls of the Silverpeak mansion had ever been.

  Slowly the gathering wound itself down. People finished up the last scraps of food, made hearty farewells, and departed for their own homes and beds, shepherding sleepy children through the door. Rine brought out bedding and pulled the curtains to give their guests some privacy.

  Belest was almost asleep himself by this point, drained from the day of work and a little fuzzy-headed from the wine. He roused enough to offer to help with the clearing of dishes and sweeping of floors and such, but Fela ushered him back to the cushions, promising that they had enough hands for the work and that guests shouldn’t put themselves to such trouble in any case.

  He settled down by the wall and out of the way, letting his exhaustion take over. The quiet hum of conversation faded into the background. He was aware enough a few minutes later to notice when Arden draped a blanket over him, and then sleep came not long after.

  ◆◆◆

  Miris could find no fault in the celebration, nor in the company or the food or the lodgings, but even all of Fela’s generosity and her family’s cheer had not completely succeeded in lifting the foul mood that the day had burned into nem like a persistent ache. The cleaning was done and Fela and her family had retired to their curtained chambers after laying out bedding for their guests, but Miris did not want to rest just yet. Instead ney sat and watched the hearth, thinking.

  Arden pushed a cup of tea into nir hands and sat beside nem. “What troubles you?”

  Miris sighed. “We haven’t done enough. We don’t even know how many of them are out there.”

  There was no reason for Arden to ask what ney meant.

  “You learned of the Stars not even two days ago, and already you have done great work in tracking down the people behind this and freeing all the Stars you can find.”

  “It’s not enough. This might take years. This might take a lifetime, Arden.” Ney grimaced. “Or we might never see the end of it. And we know nothing so far.”

  “It’s a tremendous task. But there’s no reason to rush through it, and risk missing details.” He smiled, attempting to calm nem. “We know more than we knew yesterday. We know the truth. Soon all the fliers will, and that means eyes all around the world. Those responsible cannot hide forever. And Stars are patient. They will not blame us for being careful.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Does anyone? We can only do what we are able, Miris. That’s one of the first things healers have to learn. That we cannot serve if we beat ourselves to death against a lost cause, or refuse to rest when we must.”

  Miris raised an eyebrow. “So you’re telling me to go to bed?”

  Arden shrugged. “Are you looking for a doctor’s opinion?”

  Miris snorted. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep.”

  A moment passed. Quieter this time, Arden added, “We’re also taught that we must be able to rely on others. Nothing truly great can be done alone, and it helps no one to try.”

  Ney glanced to the corner where Belest slept, oblivious to their conversation.

  “He’s more competent than you think,” Arden said, an unwelcome note of reproach behind the otherwise bland words. “He was a great help to me today.”

  “I believe you,” Miris said, expressionless. Ney was not in the mood to have nir judgements challenged, not tonight. Ney sipped the tea without tasting it.

  “I don’t know what sort of thing he’s coming from,” Arden continued, “but I can’t imagine it was anything good.”

  Miris said nothing. Arden didn’t need to know the details, or that Miris had sought them.

  Arden sighed. “I wish I could stay with you. I’d have liked to see a Ruenwin Aerie again.”

  “If I hadn’t been in that shop, we wouldn’t have to deal with those letters.”

  “No, don’t go down that route.” Arden shook his head. “It might be a blessing, when it’s all over. Perhaps going south is the best thing for me. I might even get there before the smugglers.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Miris said, but ney doubted it.

  “Besides,” Arden added, grinning, “I had the pleasure of visiting Corum, it’s only fair that I don’t get all the wonders of the world to myself.” Miris had to laugh at that, despite nir bitter thoughts.

  Arden stood. “Enough worrying for tonight. Rest, and we can talk before we launch tomorrow.”

  Miris nodded. There was nothing more to be solved tonight. In a few days, they would learn what Kirental’s mother knew of the Kejan carvings. And from there, on to the mountains. Miris dragged nir pallet closer to the hearth. By the time the fire burned out, they were all asleep.

  The Governor of Pirren

  The next morning dawned damp and cloudy, threatening rain but not yet making good on the promise. Miris found Fela already in the kitchen when ney woke, preparing ingredients for the day in great jugs and bowls. Busy as she was, she still spared time to feed her guests sweet rolls fresh from the neighborhood baker, who was a friend of hers. She even offered to let them stay until the weather improved, but Miris feared to keep the Ruenwin pair waiting. It would not do nem any good to appear rude again, especially after Kirental had offered so much.

  Arden, on the other hand, was under no such obligation and had no reason but fliers’ customs to launch so early. He could rest before beginning the long journey to deliver those letters. And long acquaintance had taught Miris that Arden did not hold quite so close to fliers’ customs as most. His mentor had been much the same, always searching for new ways of living, new ways of doing. Minwe was a mischievous sort of Wind; Miris had often wondered if the spirit had chosen the two of them for that trait, or if the Brightblade’s fliers simply couldn’t help but grow to be more like their Wind. Certainly Arden had always been seeking adventure, even as an apprentice. Especially as an apprentice, ney thought, remembering some of the stories he liked to tell, and some he might have preferred to keep secret. Those, Miris had learned in late nights when they flew together with only the sky and Winds as witness, and the tales told then were not to be shared outside that world.

  But ney dismissed all those thoughts when Arden joined them in the entranceway when they were ready to depart, as if there had never been any question that he would leave with them. Without needing to discuss it with Miris, he had brought the traditional host’s gift for Fela. Ney was grateful for that. Ney had not prepared anything nemself, and had few ideas of what Fela might like.

  Arden handed Fela a small clay pot. She lifted the lid, sniffed, and a broad smile broke out across her face.

  “A blend of spring spices favored among the Chefir of southern Irenset,” he said, clearly pleased with her response.

  She tasted
a pinch of the spices. “Mmm. Citrus and pepper and, oh, something hot… I can already think of a dozen things I want to try.”

  “And no doubt your noodles will be the talk of the district.”

  “As if they aren’t already?” She glared at him, and then ruined the effect by laughing. “What will I get from that? A short while of fame, and then scorn from demanding customers when this runs out? I think not.” She shook her head. “No, I’ll be saving this for those special few who deserve such a treat.” She cast a meaningful look towards her husband.

  Arden nodded, holding back laughter himself. “A most suitable strategy.”

  Yet again Miris cursed the man in the teashop for interrupting nem with his letters. Ney would have liked to fly with Arden for a few days. It would have been pleasant to have someone to talk to. And another competent pair of eyes to help search for Stars. But that would not be, and the only option was to fly onwards.

  They made their farewells and headed out into streets heavy with a fog that obscured the tallest towers and adorned the ornamental railings with beads of condensation. The gardeners, at least, would appreciate the weather, not to mention the engineers who minded the tanks and pipes that carried water around the city. They would have already hoisted collectors made of nets stretched across frames into the sky to gather dew. So much effort it was to keep a city running! As beautiful as Tilsa was, Miris longed for the open sky, far away from cramped towers.

  Miris felt Seres’s presence long before their cloudships came into view. Nir arms heated with the signs for greeting and flight and peace. At last they reached the little island where their ships and spirits waited. Seres breezed through Miris’s hair; beside them, Minwe tickled Arden’s ears until he laughed and reached up to brush the Wind gently aside. With Seres beside nem, things felt right again, no matter what they had to face.

  Arden turned to Belest, said something to him that Miris did not hear. And then he pulled nem into his arms.