I do not want to tell you that the world will always be ugly and dangerous. But there can be no safety but that which we make for ourselves. Like all good things, it will be a collective work. Were I, Vesper, to promise you safety, it would be a false promise. I am only one person. But we can promise each other to work toward a city in which we can all walk freely to our destinations without unreasonable fear of harm.
And readers, I do mean all of us. I know a young woman born with a magic that was more like a curse, rendering her unable to bear the touch of other people. She could not stand to be in Arishdenan Market or Temple Street for more than a few minutes without becoming ill from the crush of people around her. She knew, without wanting to, every thought and feeling in their bodies. This young woman deserves safety in our city as much as anyone else, and there is a way we can give it to her.
We must change our schools. People born with magic must be taught to use it properly, without hurting themselves or others. And people born without magic must also be taught to move through the world differently, to protect themselves and others. Perhaps you think this is an absurd undertaking, to send every person in our city to school, but I tell you it is not. In Adappyr, they have such a system, and every single citizen has not only learned to live in harmony with their fellows, but to read and do calculations and understand their history as well. Education should be the right of every Laalvuri citizen, not merely the lucky few, and here follows a proposal for how we could establish such a system…
26
Panic and Suspicion
Three people walked onto the stage, two of them half-carrying the third, who was undoubtedly Iriyat. The other two were Adpri, a man of medium height and long hair, and a very tall, short-haired woman. Alizhan squeezed Thiyo’s hand. “Is that Ev?” she demanded. “When did she get so quiet?”
You can tell that from all the way up here? he asked. And yes, it’s her.
“I would know Ev anywhere,” Alizhan said. “Except here and now, because she’s being too quiet. It’s almost like when everyone was eating nightvine. Ugh. Do you think Iriyat touched her? Is that what happened?”
It’s possible, Thiyo admitted, uneasy. Djal did teach her to shield her thoughts while we traveled from Ndija, though. Maybe it’s not Iriyat.
“We’ll find out,” Alizhan said. “Although neither of us can understand Adpri, so this speech will be challenging.”
You don’t think you’ll get it from context?
“Everyone here shields themselves pretty carefully,” Alizhan said. “No one can do it perfectly, not all the time, so I get an idea every now and then. But it’s not like in Laalvur, where everyone walks around with their thoughts naked.”
I suppose I chose the wrong language, Thiyo said. Could you have restored my knowledge of something that you yourself don’t know?
“Yes. I did it for my grandfather, before Iriyat murdered him. She’d ripped up his whole memory, and I managed to piece some of it back together.”
Obviously I’ve missed a lot.
“I was sad when Iriyat murdered him, but… mostly because I’d worked so hard on restoring him, and he was my best chance at bringing Iriyat to justice. He wasn’t a good person. Not that anyone deserves to get murdered, but after I brought him back, I wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing. He was a cruel person before Iriyat attacked him, and I don’t think all those years locked in that bedroom made him any kinder.”
Thiyo felt surprise, sympathy, and agreement, but they couldn’t say anything else, because the people on stage had finished settling Iriyat into the chair and Ev had cried out, silencing the hall.
Sometimes Alizhan could understand more with her eyes closed, but she wanted to look at Ev too much. Ev was alive. The world was bursting with new possibilities, and Alizhan could shake off the weight of grief that had hung over her for weeks. Even if Iriyat had touched her, it didn’t matter. She was still Ev, and she was alive, and Alizhan was only separated from her by a two-story jump, a river, and a few hundred people. Compared to death, that was nothing.
Ev said something about Iriyat in Adpri, and then gestured at the young man next to her.
Sanno’s spine was rigid with terror as they mounted the steps to the stage, dragging Iriyat between them, resistant and gagged. Her posture would read as someone sickly and in need of assistance to anyone watching. They’d paused before getting on stage to bind her hands so they were held in front of her, draping a huge scarf around her to hide them. Ev would watch the whole time to make sure she didn’t wriggle free. She had no idea how long “the whole time” might be. Would the crowd disperse once they realized Iriyat wasn’t giving a speech? Could Sanno improvise well enough to hold their attention and get them to listen?
The three of them were alone on stage, Iriyat in her chair with her bound hands hidden by her scarf, and Sanno to Ev’s left, jittering. Ev couldn’t believe this spontaneous plan had worked. She’d thought it was over when Iriyat lunged for her, and maybe it was over—but not for her.
Sanno wasn’t going to start, so Ev had to call up every last scrap of Adpri in her head and shout to the crowd. The Sun Hall carried her voice up through all six stories, and people went silent, straining to hear.
“Sanno Ulachiru will translate for Iriyat ha-Varensi,” Ev said, gesturing at him.
His hands were shaking as he unfolded the written copy of Iriyat’s speech. Ev tried not to let her alarm show. He wasn’t planning to read it, was he?
“Greetings, my cherished neighbors, citizens of Adappyr. As ever, I am thrilled to be welcomed into your beautiful city, but it troubles me that such difficult times have brought me here. But I come with a full heart and empty hands, ready to pick up a shovel or a hammer and restore this city.”
Why was Sanno reading this garbage? Iriyat had never picked up a hammer in her life.
“The industries of Adappyr are the foundation of commerce not only here on the Day continent but everywhere in the world, and we cannot allow it to collapse. I cannot stand idly by while Adappyr crumbles and its people cry out, and I know that you will not, either. I know my ways are strange to you, but I promise I have come here to help. I will rebuild. We will rebuild!”
A tentative cheer rose and fell in the crowd. Ev couldn’t bring herself to join in. What was Sanno doing? Had she made a mistake? He wasn’t a particularly good public speaker, but she didn’t want anyone charismatic to read Iriyat’s words.
His hand was still shaking as he thrust the page into the air. He pointed at it with his other hand. “Iriyat ha-Varensi is a liar!” he boomed. His voice was far louder and steadier than before. “She writes ‘my ways are strange to you’ when we know she means that she has spent her life pursuing power and acquiring wealth. She now proposes to use her ill-begotten fortune as the foundation for our recovery. She would entwine herself in our affairs, weakening and corrupting us as a tree root twists its way into a stone wall!”
The crowd was roaring, in agreement and disagreement, as Sanno rounded on Iriyat.
“This woman is responsible for the dangerous state of our city! Her agents have wreaked havoc on our walls and ceilings for months, under cover of our own shameful political discord. I have seen the proof myself! She would see this city fall so she can swoop in like a vulture and feast on its remains.”
Proof was overstating the case. Ifeleh’s crew hadn’t had time to catch any suspects. Their story still rested on Thiyo’s account, which he couldn’t speak in his own words. But Sanno got a reaction from the crowd—and from Iriyat, whose eyes blazed. Her hands moved in her lap, working against their bindings.
“We will not allow it!” Sanno shouted. “We have been tricked, but no more. From this moment onward, we save ourselves. All of us. We must forget the past, whether we were Believers or True Sons, and think only of the present. We are all part of one faction now, a faction that wants to live. To save this city and its people. To that end, we must remain calm. We will disperse and begin preparations imme
diately.
“Anyone who cannot help shore up this city must be evacuated—any children or elderly people or those in poor health, they must either go down to the Ija and float out into the system of caves we call the Exile Road, or they must go to the surface and stay in tents until we can be sure the city is stable. The rest of us, we will take up our shovels—and take our lives into our hands—and we will not stop until we’ve repaired every crack! This city was once the refuge of the Day continent, a place where those ill-treated by the Empire and the sun and the desert could find shelter. It offered home and hope to all those who would abide by its laws. So it shall be again!”
Could anyone hear Sanno over the crowd? Movement rippled through the lowest level and Ev could see people pressed against the railings above. Were they trying to get out? If they heard Sanno, did they believe him? Could they see the rage on Iriyat’s face?
Ev glanced around the stage and tensed. There was no easy exit.
“Go! Go now!” Sanno was telling them. “Get your loved ones to safety and come back ready to work!”
A man pushed his way to the edge of the stage, bolstered by a group of friends. They lifted him onto the stage and it was only then that Ev recognized him by the constellation of bruises on his face. This was the man who’d attacked her in the bar with Thiyo. She’d given him those bruises.
“Look at her face!” He was screaming and pointing at Ev. “She’s the traitor’s daughter!”
Smoke. What could Ev do? If she attacked him, she’d look guilty. No. She wasn’t guilty, but she was Obin’s daughter. But as the first shoe landed on stage and bounced toward her feet, Ev knew she couldn’t let the man keep talking.
“Sanno, get out of here!” she yelled.
It was too late. The crowd swarmed the platform as Ev lunged at her accuser, her fist landing in his stomach. But it wasn’t a fair fight, since six of his friends surrounded her and landed blows on her already injured back and shoulders. They knocked Ev flat as the Sun Hall was subsumed by chaos, thousands of people shouting and stampeding and struggling with each other.
Just as Ev’s companion, whose name had slipped out of Thiyo’s mind, rounded on Iriyat and began to speak in earnest, Alizhan said, “This isn’t good.”
What do you mean? They’re exposing Iriyat. This audience is better than we could have hoped for with any pamphlet. Ev somehow escaped Iriyat’s clutches and singlehandedly solved our problem.
“The mood of the crowd isn’t right,” Alizhan said. “Some of them probably believe what they’re hearing, but there’s also panic and suspicion. They’re going to riot.”
Those sound like happy cheers to me. The young man giving the speech was in good form, rousing the crowd with his tone and his gestures.
“Some of them are,” Alizhan said. “But Iriyat has fifteen hundred mercenaries in this city. They wouldn’t even have to instigate violence—the citizens might turn on them. Either way, it’s bad news. The city is already experiencing collapses on triads when there aren’t riots.”
Thiyo didn’t bother to form a coherent thought, since Alizhan was touching him and could feel his surge of panic and the subsequent effort to fight it down and solve the problem. The roar of the crowd made it hard to focus. People were moving around them, some trying to get away and some trying to get closer. If Alizhan was right about the coming riot, there was nothing to do but flee.
The crowd exploded into even more shouting, and Thiyo saw a man lifted onto the stage while yelling at Ev. Someone threw a shoe at her. Depths, she looked so small down there, and there was an impossible distance between them. What could he do?
Alizhan wasn’t holding his hand.
The realization jerked him out of his thoughts. Alizhan had boosted herself onto the balcony railing, raised her arms above her head and placed her palms together.
“No!” Thiyo yelled, but she’d already curved into a dive and shot down into the river below. “Mah Yee’s salty asshole,” he swore, not caring what sounds came out. If he wanted to stay with Alizhan through this, there was only one thing to do. He could see her surfacing in the river below. She hadn’t hit her head on the bottom and died instantly, at the very least.
“I have to got to stop falling in love with fucking crazy women,” Thiyo muttered, clambering up onto the railing. He dove.
Ev rolled onto her stomach, trying to protect her face from the attacks. Feet stomped her back and kicks pierced the tender parts of her sides. Impossible to say how many. With each new blow, her count restarted, until it wasn’t a count but a litany of pains: rib, stomach, hip, shoulder, back, rib… She had stopped thinking of fighting back.
Then the hits stopped. The riot still reverberated off the cavern walls, a din of voices and scuffling bodies punctuated by the rain of debris from the upper levels, but somewhere above Ev’s head, something had interrupted her attackers. Their yells had changed to groans and whines. A spray of droplets spattered her. Something wooden clattered to the stage beside Ev.
A pale hand entered her vision.
Instead of reaching for it, Ev rolled onto her back. Regret stabbed into her from every angle. She shouldn’t have moved. But there was Iriyat ha-Varensi, hands unbound, gag and face veil both removed, leaning over her.
Had Iriyat rescued Ev? Maybe those men had hit Ev’s head even harder than she thought.
“You’re mine, bitch,” Iriyat said.
At least the world still made a twisted kind of sense. Iriyat had rescued her, but only to kill her. Ev offered Iriyat a bloody smile, then turned her head to the side and spat on the stage. She’d once asked Thiyo if he’d thought of what words he’d speak before dying. Out there in the ocean, even in the face of certain death, it had seemed like a joke. With Iriyat hovering, Ev was glad to have something blood-tinged to say before she died.
“She’ll never love you, and you know it’s your fault.”
“I told you that you had something I wanted,” Iriyat said, her gaze unwavering and her smile far too sweet for the riot that raged around them. “I couldn’t make you explain it, but I can make you show me.”
Then she grabbed Ev’s hand and the world went dark. Ev screamed. She hadn’t felt pain like that since her legs had been caught in a tangle of medusa tentacles. She’d been able to get away from that pain by moving, but there was no relief now. No venom was dissolving her flesh. Iriyat was ripping through her mind.
Either Ev stopped screaming or she stopped hearing herself scream.
Alizhan plunged into the muddy, churning waters of the Ija, speared through the current and knifed up through the surface. She shook the water from her eyes and pushed herself over the stone bank of the river. Her soaked clothes dragged at her, as much a burden as the people between her and Ev.
She should have given Thiyo more warning, but either he’d follow or he wouldn’t. He could take care of himself. Ev was the daughter of an infamous traitor and she’d put herself in the center of this hall full of thousands of people who might murder her for vengeance or glory or the brutal thrill of more violence. Alizhan didn’t know what she was going to do to stop that, but she couldn’t stand next to that railing and wait.
The air was thick with shouted accusations. The words meant nothing to her, but the tone was a volley of arrows aimed at Ev.
People were everywhere, pushing to get away from the crowd or pushing someone who’d tried to stop them or a hundred other reasons that swarmed Alizhan’s head. In their frenzy, people stopped politely shielding their thoughts. There was so much screaming. She’d once thought the usual crowds of Arishdenan Market had been riotous, because they’d been so painful to her, but this was painful to everyone. Alizhan knew that because she could feel it. Suffering everywhere.
Behind her, people were falling into the river, or jumping, and stones from the railings above plunked into the water after them. The hall rumbled. Had the ground moved under her feet, or had she been shoved? Alizhan gritted her teeth and forced her way toward Ev.
/> The stage was full of people by the time she vaulted onto it, people who were trying to get away from the fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with fighters. Alizhan could hardly breathe. But Ev had been here. Ev, the young man who’d given the speech, and Iriyat. Had they gotten away? Alizhan had jumped before she’d heard the first accusations, but getting out of the water had taken time. Where would they have gone?
“Ev!” she yelled. Could anyone hear her? She wished Djal had never taught Ev to be quiet, no matter how safe it kept her. Alizhan couldn’t find her when she was quiet. “Ev, it’s me! Ev!”
She’d crossed to the other side of the circular stage. Ev wasn’t here. Or she couldn’t hear Alizhan. They’d never find each other. And Thiyo hadn’t come after her, either. Alizhan jumped down to the floor. She’d sneak out of this hall and find somewhere out of the way to weather the rest of this.
Her feet just missed a body on the ground.
An instant of guilt forced her to kneel down and check if the person was dead. Much too small to be Ev. Too much hair, too. She rolled them onto their back. Still breathing. It was a man.
A groan. His eyes were closed. “Ev?”
“You know Ev?” Alizhan demanded.
He forced one eye to slit open. The other was already swelling. He focused on her face and said what Alizhan assumed meant “not Ev” in Adpri. Alizhan recognized his voice. He’d given the speech.
“What’s your name?”
His voice was rough and his gaze was unfocused. He asked why Alizhan was all wet and then why she was speaking Laalvuri, or at least, he spoke some words she didn’t understand and those were the principle questions on his mind.
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