Many streets were blocked in the upper levels, and even after their hours in the stairwell, they had to wait again until the way was cleared. Eventually they arrived at The Crooked Column. A small woman who turned out to be Sanno’s mother hugged him and touched Alizhan on the shoulder. Djal, Mala, and Ifeleh were inside with three other members of the Vines crew. There was no sign of Ev or Thiyo.
Djal and Mala hugged her, but Ifeleh only nodded. Nobody asked where the others were.
A few tense hours of waiting passed. There was hearty tavern food, stewed vegetables and flat bread and some yellow fruit. Although vegetarian, it was unfamiliar, and she shredded the bread between her fingers and ate only a few bites of the stew. The conversation around her was mostly in Adpri, and she gathered that her companions were discussing the future. Who should lead them out of this crisis? What kind of city would emerge from the rubble? They did not discuss catching Iriyat or finding Ev and Thiyo.
Alizhan was offered Ev and Thiyo’s empty room. She lay down in the bed, hoping it would smell like either of them, but it just smelled like a musty old room above a bar. The rough weave of the sheets scratched her cheek. She couldn’t lie still.
The hundredth time she tossed her blankets to her feet and rolled over, the door creaked in the darkness. “Alizhan?”
“Thiyo?” She sat up.
Light spilled in from the hallway. He carried a candle into the room and set it down on the table next to the bed. He was alone, and it was easy enough to see that Alizhan was alone, and his despair crashed through the room in a wave. Alizhan raised a hand to wipe at the tears dripping down her face. His fault. It hadn’t been the sight of him silhouetted alone in the doorway that had cut through her. She’d held it together until he’d contaminated her with his feelings.
“Will you cry every time you see me, then?” Thiyo asked in Laalvuri.
The words startled her out of her tears. “Thiyo.”
“I don’t know what you did to me, but it worked.”
“I didn’t have time to do anything like this. I only repaired a few threads,” Alizhan said. “You must have done it.”
“I’m still missing words here and there,” he said. “And I’ve only tried to speak Adpri and Laalvuri.”
“Oh, only two languages,” Alizhan said, since she’d spent the last few hours puzzling out Adpri conversation.
“It’s a start,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm. Then he blew out the candle and lay down in the bed with her, drawing up the sheet that she’d left rumpled around her feet.
“You’re going to sleep here? With me?”
“Would you prefer to take the floor?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be gallant and offer to take the floor yourself?”
“This is my bed,” Thiyo said. “I slept here with Ev already. If you don’t want to share, then logically, you should leave. Not me. But you’re welcome to stay. I don’t mind.”
“You’ll mind if I accidentally touch you while we’re both asleep.”
“By all means, go ahead. Maybe I’ll remember another language,” Thiyo said. He kept his voice light, and she wished he wouldn’t. But if she asked him not to joke, he’d tell her he wasn’t joking.
His hand landed on her arm. She hadn’t seen him reach through the darkness, and she flinched at the touch. There was no reason to. Thiyo was careful.
“Am I afraid of you?” he asked.
“No.” His fear was for other things. Quakes. Iriyat. Ev, dead in a pile of anonymous corpses somewhere in the city. Alizhan shivered. She was still sitting up, while Thiyo was already settled in next to her, ready to fall asleep except for his hand resting in the crook of her arm.
“Are you afraid of me?”
She blew out a breath. Thiyo wouldn’t hurt her, she knew that. It was the reverse she feared. She had more control than ever before, but who knew what would happen in sleep? Maybe she should move to the floor. But if she moved, or if she insisted that he move, he’d make her admit out loud that it was for her sake and not his. She was the frightened one. Alizhan didn’t want to do that. So she said, “It’s only that you smell like river mud.”
“Oh, you can smell me over your own stench? It was your idea to throw yourself into the Ija like a heartsick princess hurling herself from a tower window in an ancient Nalitzvan epic. I was only trying to keep up with you.”
“It wasn’t like that at all,” Alizhan said, offended. “It was the best course of action at the time, and it would have been worth it if I’d found Ev.”
“We’ll find her,” Thiyo said. “Or more likely, she’ll find us.”
She wanted to believe that. She unfolded her body and lay her head on the pillow, keeping a safe distance between herself and Thiyo. “For Ev,” she said, patting the empty space. “When she comes back.”
The meal after they woke was a somber affair. It was the same spicy vegetable stew she’d been offered before going to sleep, and Alizhan forced down a few bites. “Has there been any word of Iriyat?”
“Rumor has it the Lampgreen Company is withdrawing from the city,” Sanno said. “There’s been no official statement. Looks a lot like she’s running for her life.”
Alizhan couldn’t be happy for it. “I wish we’d managed to expose her before the quake.”
“A lot of people believe what Sanno said,” Eminyela said, touching her son on the shoulder. “Ichinek has disappeared, too, which lends credence to the story. The City Council has asked me to take his post. Iriyat’s line about rebuilding wasn’t wrong—we will rebuild. Just not with her money.”
“How many dead?” Alizhan said.
“We won’t know for some time,” Mala said. She looked exhausted. She’d been out all shift tending to the wounded. “Too many.”
“If Iriyat stops meddling in our politics, we might have a chance to repair more than just the walls,” Sanno said.
“We’ll stop her,” Alizhan said grimly.
“What about the volcano?” Thiyo asked. He’d been quiet for almost their whole conversation, which was in Laalvuri, to make Alizhan’s life easier. His question was met with stunned silence. Thiyo repeated himself in Adpri, because he was a showoff.
Alizhan nudged her shoulder against his. She didn’t want to stop the conversation to crow over his progress. He touched his hand to her shoulder, but his gaze remained fixed on Sanno and Eminyela.
“It’s smoking,” Sanno said. He chewed his lip. Alizhan couldn’t tell if it was the volcano or Thiyo making him nervous. “But it does that sometimes. Smoke doesn’t mean it will erupt. The more urgent problem is more tremors.”
“Iriyat didn’t know for sure. She wasn’t sure about the wave, either, but that’s probably why she’s rushing home to Laalvur. She couldn’t play the savior here, but she’ll be keen to deliver the warning at home.”
“She might be too late for that,” Sanno said. “Ev convinced one of the guards to abandon his post. He’d left by the time we exited the room, I assume to ride for Laalvur with her warning.”
That news surprised Thiyo, but not Alizhan. “Vatik. Ev found Vatik.”
“That might be good for Laalvur, but it doesn’t help us,” Eminyela said. “I need to get to my office to send out people to survey and repair the damage. Ifeleh, could you—are you staying?”
“As long as you need me,” Ifeleh said. “I owe this place something.”
Alizhan had no idea what expressions were on their faces, but she could feel the weight of the moment.
“I’d like to change the exile laws,” Eminyela said.
“What does that have to do with infrastructure?” Ifeleh asked.
“It doesn’t,” Eminyela said. “But it would be better for the city—if people could come home. If you could come home. If you want to, I mean.”
“I… don’t know,” Ifeleh said. “I’ve never considered it as an option. I have a life out there. A ship. A crew.”
“I never agreed with the Firestarters, but they were right about
one thing. This destruction provides us with a new beginning. Whatever we build, it won’t be exactly the same as what was here. Why shouldn’t we improve in other ways as well?”
Ifeleh was amused. “You’re not planning to remain First Structural Engineer for long.”
“No,” Eminyela said, sheepish. “I was thinking I’d present myself as a candidate for the Citizens’ Assembly at our next election. Or maybe I’ll get Sanno to do it.”
Sanno cut that idea down with a wave of his hand. “Considering how my first public speaking attempt went, I think I’ll retire from that life and stick to writing from here on out.”
“We’ll need you to keep warning people,” Eminyela said. “We can’t assume that was the last—or even the worst—of the quakes. Evacuating people is still a good idea until we know more.”
A murmur of agreement went around the table.
“Has there been any word of Ev?” Alizhan ventured, and then slumped into her chair when everyone at the table shook their heads. “Thiyo and I should go look for her. If she comes by here, will they tell her to wait?”
“They’ll tell her anything you want if you leave enough at the bar,” Eminyela said. “I’m sorry your friend is lost. I liked her. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
Alizhan nodded once.
“We should go to Laalvur,” Thiyo said. Every time he spoke, a little jolt went through everyone around him.
“What?” Alizhan asked. “But Ev—”
“We can look for Ev for a shift,” Thiyo said. “If Ev is in the city, she’ll come here. If she doesn’t come here… she would have wanted us to make sure that warning made it to Laalvur. And if Iriyat is in Laalvur, we should find her.”
Would have wanted. Alizhan spared an instant to marvel at the complexity of the sentence—Thiyo had made incredible progress—then pushed it aside and ground her teeth together in rage. How could Thiyo talk like Ev was already dead? What did he know?
Evreyet squinted into the sunlight as they emerged from Adappyr. The city had been gutted by the quake, walls and floors tumbling down everywhere, and even though it was fearful chaos down below—rubble and piles of bodies—the thought of leaving made her ill.
It was a different sort of sickness, a foggy feeling of dread that was nothing like the physical pain she’d been experiencing, bruised as she was. She’d vomited and had dizzy spells over the past shift, which Iriyat said was normal after an injury. Evreyet had narrowly escaped dying in the Sun Hall after a block of stone had fallen on her head. The hours preceding Iriyat’s speech were a dark hole in her mind, and the rest of her memories floated just out of reach, cloudy and insubstantial. Iriyat said things would come back to her once they arrived home.
It was lucky that Iriyat was there to watch out for her. They’d made it out of the Sun Hall together, and then Iriyat’s men had forced their way into a blocked stairwell so they could get out of the city. An enclosed carriage and horses were waiting when they arrived. Now they had only to cross the unrelenting, sun-baked expanse of desert between here and Laalvur.
Evreyet had wanted to ride, but Iriyat had gently suggested that it might aggravate her headaches. So she climbed into the carriage after Iriyat. It was hot and still inside, but at least they were out of the brutal sun.
“I’m not doing a very good job of guarding you,” Evreyet said. Her life was a series of embarrassments. Iriyat had been patient enough to remind her of so many things, including her job—one she’d had for years, apparently. Nothing felt real, and she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she shouldn’t be leaving Adappyr yet. She pushed it aside. What did she know? Iriyat was the only person who knew her, and Iriyat said this was what they had to do.
“You wouldn’t be doing a very good job if you were dead, either,” Iriyat said. “You were injured. It happens to the best of us. And at least you’re still here, unlike the coward who ran off.”
Iriyat had lost another guard recently, a man named Vatik. He’d deserted her service just before the quake. The betrayal must have stung because Iriyat had mentioned him twice now. She’d hardly said anything else negative in the time since she’d spirited Evreyet out of the Sun Hall, although she certainly had cause for complaint. They all did—Evreyet remembered very little, but the terror of the quake was fresh. Iriyat hadn’t let shock and fear overwhelm her. Her only thought had been to get them both to safety.
“Let me take care of you for a little while,” Iriyat said. “Get some rest. We’ll be home soon.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
28
Home Comes with Its Own Heartbreaks
Alizhan and Thiyo conducted their search in testy silence when they weren’t questioning strangers. In Laalvur, Alizhan wouldn’t have needed to speak with anyone, but in Adappyr, Thiyo proved useful. He’d picked up or remembered enough Adpri to conduct these interviews. Alizhan only heard him hesitate a few times.
They began at the inn where Iriyat and Alizhan had been staying, a place called The World, where every room was painted to look like some famous site. Iriyat had booked all the rooms. Alizhan’s had its ceiling painted in a poor imitation of the Night sky. When she walked into the inn with Thiyo, the innkeeper hurried over to them and apologized. Thiyo took the woman’s hand and placated her. Alizhan gathered the innkeeper was apologizing for emptying the room she’d occupied, since she’d assumed Alizhan would leave when Iriyat did.
“I’m worried I left something behind,” Alizhan said, and Thiyo translated for her.
The innkeeper let them search all the rooms, even the ones Alizhan had never been in, just like that. There was a room with its ceiling painted the red-gold of Laalvur’s sky. The bed in that one was stripped of sheets and a table had been knocked over. Maybe it was a consequence of the quake—but maybe not.
There was little else of interest, so they took their leave. The streets overflowed with people carrying packed bags, some of them headed down toward the Exile Road and some of them headed up to the Sun Road, all of them fleeing.
“Do you think they’ll come home?” Alizhan asked. They followed the slow traffic ascending the stairs, intending to search the tents outside the city and the Sun Road for signs of Ev.
“Most people do,” Thiyo said, and she knew he was thinking of how hard it could be to live in a place different from the one where you’d been born. How hard it was to look and act different from everyone else.
“If your sense of home means a place where no one looks at you funny, then I’ve never had one,” Alizhan said.
“I’m sorry,” Thiyo said, unexpectedly earnest. “Although home comes with its own heartbreaks.”
“It was hard to go back,” Alizhan guessed.
“You once told me you were worried there was no place for you in the world,” Thiyo said. “It felt like that.”
“But you were wounded. It would have been different—better—if you’d been able to talk.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe I’ll always be a little out of place everywhere.”
It was a feeling she knew well. She grabbed his hand and squeezed.
They talked to dozens of people on the surface, staying so long that they sweat through their clothes and their eyes ached from the sun. Plenty of people confirmed having seen a pale blond woman leaving in a carriage, but it wasn’t until their twenty-third interview that someone mentioned seeing a tall dark-skinned woman get into that same carriage.
Alizhan went rigid.
“What did she look like?” Thiyo asked carefully.
The stocky, bald man they were talking to shrugged. When he gestured, his palms bore the dark lines marking him as someone who’d spent his life farming. “I told you,” he said. “Tall. Short hair. Probably Adpri, but she looked a little foreign somehow. Or maybe not. Hard to tell under all the bruises. Not a dainty little thing—nice figure, though—but she looked wrecked. I didn’t like the sight of it, that’s why I remember.”
“What do you mean
, wrecked?” Thiyo asked.
“You know, wrecked. Lot of people coming up look that way, usually because something fell on them in the quake. That woman, though, she’d been in a fight. Somebody—maybe more than one somebody—beat her up. A smoking shame to beat up a woman that pretty.”
“Or anyone,” Thiyo murmured, then added, in a louder voice, “And she got into the carriage?”
The man nodded.
“Did she struggle?”
“She wasn’t in a state to struggle much,” the man said. “But no, she didn’t resist.”
“Shit,” Alizhan said.
They thanked the man and then spent a moment in miserable silence. Iriyat had Ev. They were on their way to Laalvur.
Evreyet didn’t remember Varenx House or its lush gardens. That shouldn’t have struck her as strange, since everything in her memory was adrift in the fog. But as she brushed her fingers over the broad, glossy leaf of some plant, she had a feeling of being someone who knew these things. The edge of the leaf was smooth, not serrated, and they marched down the stem in symmetrical pairs. The tiny yellow fruits were inedible.
Evreyet was a person who knew about plants. She couldn’t say how or why. But most of what was growing in the Varenx House garden was familiar to her, by type and sometimes by name. There were a few specimens she didn’t recognize, but on the whole, it was more shocking to recognize anything. The layout of the garden, winding around the house and growing along the cliff edge, sparked nothing in her memory. None of the rooms inside, with their cool ceramic tiles and plush patterned carpets, meant anything to her. But she knew about plants.
A few minutes in the gardens brought back another kind of memory, one that lodged in her mind like a dry shard of food in her throat. A sensation of being on her knees, lumpy ground grinding into them. Foliage pricking her skin and tangling in her hair. Sickness in her stomach and sweat soaking her clothes. There was a book in her gloved hands. Why would she remember this, when her mind had been emptied of everything useful?
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