The River King

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The River King Page 18

by Kim Alexander


  Carefully avoiding her palm, Rhuun uncurled her fingers with one hand and used the other to steady her wrist. Mother Jaa poured sand until Lelet’s hand was full. Ilaan directed the beam of light at her palm. When the sand boiled, Lelet hissed and tried to jerk away. There was a cooked meat smell, the same smell as when he burnt up the three men in the little clearing in the forest. She hadn’t liked that smell; it had gotten in her hair.

  “I’m sorry, please. I’m sorry,” Rhuun whispered, but he didn’t let go. He nodded at Ilaan. “Go ahead.” It seemed to take hours, but it was only the work of a moment to boil the glass to sand as Lelet squealed and writhed. Please don’t remember this.

  “Now her chest,” Ilaan said. “Can you hold her? Maybe get behind her?”

  Rhuun repositioned himself so that her head lay against his chest, and he could hold her arms in his own.

  “This will be worse,” Ilaan said. “The wound is bigger. And I don’t want to leave her with a mass of scars.” Then he looked at Rhuun’s arms, as the sleeves of his tunic had been pushed up. “Never mind. Ready?”

  It was worse, and it took forever. Bloody tears ran down her cheeks, and she screamed enough to bring the folk of the tent to their door. Leef did his best to explain and send everyone away.

  After a thousand years, Ilaan lowered his hand. “I think...I think we’re done. Beast, you okay?”

  He’d been holding his breath and blew it out shakily. Then he sat up, slowly straightening his fingers. He’d been holding her so tight his hands cramped. Along with her new scars, she’d have bruises on the insides of her arms. But she was still breathing.

  “Mother Jaa?” Ilaan guided her hand to the fused glass on her breast.

  She ran her fingers over it then tapped it lightly with a fingertip. “I think now we wait and see.”

  “See what?” Rhuun was deadly tired, ashamed of his weakness. Of all of them, he had the least to do. All he’d done was hold her down.

  “See where she chooses to set her feet, my boy.” She touched his hand. “You should rest as well.” She turned to Leef. “We have work to do. Find a new room for our friends to rest. Then this sand must be dug up and destroyed. Get the women of the circle to assist.” Leef got to his feet and headed for the hallway. She added, “Be careful with the sand.”

  Leef ran off, leaving them alone.

  “You must both clean your skin. Change into your true faces. Yes, you too, my boy. Burn all the filth away, and Ilaan, see that all these clothes are burned. I’ll have one of my women send along clean things for the three of you.”

  Rhuun took a second to mourn his black silk coat before pulling it off and setting it aside. Then he felt foolish. It was just a thing. He leaned forward to brush the damp hair from Lelet’s brow. Her skin was cool and waxy.

  “I’m here. Open your eyes for me. Please, I’m here.”

  Lelet was barely breathing. She might never open her eyes again. He felt a sudden rush of panic—the smell of her blood and of cooked meat made him queasy and faint—he leaned heavily on his hands and put his head down, resting on the sand next to her, so he wouldn’t fall over.

  “Let her rest, Beast.” Ilaan took his arm. “She knows.”

  “You were right.” Rhuun sat slowly back on his heels. “What it feels like. Falling backward. You were right as usual.” Ilaan, he thought bitterly, is always right.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Eriis

  After taking a few moments to burn away the blood and vomit from his face—and that was a new and unwelcome side effect to his traveling—Ilaan joined Rhuun, who had also cleaned himself up.

  “Well, now all we can do is wait.” Ilaan sat back on his cushion and hoped Mother Jaa had thought to stock the pleasant, airy room she’d installed them in with enough sarave to get Beast through whatever came next.

  He toyed with the cuff of the plain gray tunic Leef had delivered as Rhuun paced in a room not meant for pacing or for someone whose strides took them from one side to the other in three steps. Whoever had made the garment had greatly overestimated Beast’s size, and the too-long hem dragged on the floor behind him.

  “That can’t be very satisfying, the way you’re doing it,” Ilaan observed.

  Rhuun spun to confront him. The fabric twisted around his ankle. “Doing what? What am I doing wrong this time?” He kicked his leg free with some irritation.

  “Sorry. Nothing. Sit down. You’re making me nervous. Tell me what happened.”

  Rhuun slumped onto the floor and put his head in his hands. “Auri. He didn’t go out without a fight. He meant that knife for me.” He let his hands drop. “But you knew that. It all went according to your plan. Why did we agree to it? She’s going to die.”

  “We don’t know—”

  “Where’s your father, at least? Surely you made certain to grab him up. Isn’t that what this was all about? Your plan? Was it worth it?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I am grateful.” Ilaan thought he didn’t sound in the least grateful. “Because she’d surely be dead from the knife and the poison, and even if she’d somehow survived that, we’d probably both be ashes by now. Thank you for opening that Door. But we never, never should have listened to you.” He looked up, not bothering to wipe the tears off his face. “And you told us. You sat there and told us we’d be doing your work for you, and we went along with it anyway. And now here we are, where you put us.” His voice broke. “Have you ever been my friend?”

  “I thought it was you,” Ilaan said.

  “What? Who was me?” He cast around; he was looking for a drink.

  “Scilla sent a note. She said the blood of Eriis had been spilled. And I thought it was your blood.”

  Rhuun didn’t reply. He was quite still.

  “I had to decide, and I did. Well, it was no decision, really. My father is...wherever he is now, and where he’ll most likely remain. He’s gone. But I thought it was you. And I couldn’t...I couldn’t lose you too.”

  Rhuun sat with his head bowed. Finally, he got up slowly, taking care not to trip over the tail of his tunic, and found with unerring accuracy the sarave Leef had stashed under a low table in the corner. “Want some?”

  Ilaan nodded.

  Rhuun drank, handed him the bottle, and sat again. “While I was in Mistra, I had my own library. Althee put it together for me, she said reading would help me learn how humans live. One of the books was a collection of tales of the gods and goddesses. It was for children, to teach them how to behave. There were lots of stories about brothers. God brothers, I suppose.”

  Ilaan looked up. “They have gods? The humans?”

  “They don’t believe in gods. They believe in money. This was just a book of stories. Anyway, the god brothers. They’d fight, as brothers do—as humans do—and sometimes the fights were, well, extraordinarily stupid. One story had two brothers arguing over who got to marry the realm’s fairest cow.”

  “A—I’m sorry...did you say cow?” Ilaan thought he knew what a cow was, but now it appeared he might have been wrong.

  “A cow. She had the brownest eyes or something.”

  “They were fighting over a cow. Just so we’re clear.”

  “And their battle tore their island kingdom rock from branch. All the god-brother and sisters had to pick a side. Finally, one of the sisters—she was the god of vengeance, if I remember—told them they’d better sort it out or she’d do it herself. And the last time they got her mad, she turned one of them into a bucket of eels. They put down their arms and divided the cow between them.”

  “This is a great story, please continue.” Ilaan was mystified but figured there would eventually be a point or else they’d drink all the sarave and it would make a different sort of sense.

  “One got an eternal ewer of milk, to feed his family forever. And the other got the most beautiful leather boots in the world, they could take you anywhere. And then they were friends again. Brothers.”

  “But what abou
t the cow?”

  Rhuun laughed sourly. “The cow is a metaphor.”

  “But for what?”

  “I... when I started this, I felt like it might have something to do with us, actually.”

  “Am I the cow in this story? Be honest.”

  “Forget the cow, Ilaan. The point is—”

  “The point! Thank Light and Wind.”

  “The point is brothers fight. And they fight over things that sometimes don’t make sense or they don’t have control over or don’t understand. But they don’t stop being brothers. They don’t stop loving each other.”

  Ilaan thought about that for a moment. “I knew Yuenne was Jan, that they were the same person. I knew all along.” He paused. “I didn’t know about Thayree though. I would have told you.”

  “I see.” He was silent for a long moment. “I believe you. About Thayree. And well, I knew Yuenne was leaving Mistra. He came to see me and explained the whole thing, and I didn’t send word to you and wasn’t going to. I was never going to. And I realize you saved her life today, but if this had gone differently—if Yuenne had harmed Lelet while they were in that house—you and I would be having a different sort of conversation.”

  “But he didn’t. He helped you. You have to understand. I couldn’t take the chance that she…I was trying…” Ilaan recalled Niico’s words: You are perhaps too much your father’s son.

  For things to go back the way they ought to be, the way they used to be, Ilaan knew what he had to do. And even if things were shattered beyond repair, at least he wasn’t helplessly following Yuenne’s crooked path.

  He sighed. “No. That’s not it. There was never a reason for Lelet to go back to his house. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to find out what it felt like. It was as simple as that. But you must believe this is not what I wanted. I never intended things to go this far.”

  “What did you expect to happen?”

  For once, Ilaan couldn’t read his friend’s heart written on his face. He felt sick with shame. “Well, in my mind there would be a sort of cocktail party on Mistra, and I would open my Door and walk through. Everyone would be so surprised, and my father would…”

  “What? Fall to the ground and beg your forgiveness?”

  “Something like that. ‘For Niico,’ I would say. ‘For Daala. Rhoosa. Hollen.’”

  “No, that last one was me, actually.”

  “Oh. Well, mainly Niico, obviously.” Ilaan stared at the ground between his feet. “I played out the scene in my head a million times.”

  “How did it end? Would you have shown mercy? Or would it have been the Crosswinds?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know.”

  “And what was your plan for me and Lelet? Were we also at this party?”

  “You forgive me, and everything goes back to normal,” he said to his feet.

  “What’s that? I didn’t catch it. What did you expect to happen to us?”

  “Us” meant Beast and Lelet, not Ilaan. He looked up. “You forgive me. You understand my heart. You understand that because of Niico I went soft in my wits and made some mistakes but—and this is the most important bit—you and I remain brothers. Because even though I wanted to, even though I tried, we can’t be broken apart.”

  By now the sarave was gone, and they were sprawled on the cushions with their legs stretched out.

  “I’m tired of fighting with you,” Rhuun said quietly. “I just can’t do it anymore. I wish I had the power to bring Niico back. I’d do it, and you know that. But I’m done apologizing for it.”

  For the first time he could remember, Ilaan had nothing to say. After a while he said, “I guess we’ve split up the cow.”

  “Ilaan.” Rhuun looked at him in a way that needed no charm or magic to freeze him in place. “Never lie to me again.” Then he smiled, and Ilaan was able to breathe. “Feel like running an errand?”

  “Will it give me a nosebleed?”

  “Not this time. Unless you want to go back to Auri’s house yourself?”

  “Respectfully declined. What can I do?” And that, thought Ilaan, was how he went back into the Helping Rhuun business.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Mistra

  I will not cry. I will not cry. Scilla was having some success, although she nearly bit her lip in two and her throat ached from the effort. She glanced at Coll, who wore his usual serene expression, which was belied by how fiercely he gripped the windowsill with one hand and clutched his ever-present notebook in the other. The cab crawled through traffic. She was sure she could walk faster. And Coll of course could do that disappear-reappear demon trick. But he promised he wouldn’t leave her side.

  He stuck his head out the window. “Is it always like this?”

  Upper Garden Boulevard was normally more like a moving park, with handsome horses drawing even more handsome carriages and cabs and a complement of the well-dressed and their children and dogs occupying the walks and adjoining parks. Tonight the road was jammed with fire carts, cabs full of bluecoats, a sea of the curious, and in the near distance, a smear of orange light above the tree line.

  “No,” she answered. “We’re all going to the same place.”

  It’s not too late replaced I will not cry for a while, along with the rising desire to get out and run the rest of the way. Finally they’d gone as far as the bluecoats were letting people come to look. She jumped down, not waiting for the hand of the driver or for Coll, and stood, stunned.

  Even at a distance of two or three blocks, she could see the flames shooting from the roof of Auri’s house. Fire licked from the windows. The greenhouse had exploded. The trees and bushes closest to the house were torches. There were a lot of people gathered in the streets and on the edges of the great lawn.

  “May,” she screamed. The bluecoat in charge of keeping order tried and failed to stop her breaking past, and she ran to her sister, who stood in a miserable huddle with Stelle and Althee.

  “Darling, we’re fine,” May said, wiping her sister’s face and then hugging her tight. “We heard an explosion in the basement, and everyone got out before the fire made it up the stairs.”

  “Everyone?” Scilla demanded. “Did everyone get out?”

  May couldn’t answer, and Scilla gave a choked scream.

  “We don’t know,” Stelle said. “He has gifts. You know he does. They might both be safe.” She hardly sounded convinced, and her tears only made it worse.

  “If he has manifested that particular gift, his timing would be uncanny.” Coll had reached the group. “However, since the life of Miss Lelet is involved, I wouldn’t wager against the prince.”

  “This is my fault.” Althee looked dazed. She coughed and wiped uselessly at the soot on her hands. “I told him he had to come here. We should have grabbed your sister and just...gotten away. Oh, Lelly...” She coughed again then squinted at an approaching figure. “Who is this?”

  The newly arrived demon made his way towards them through the milling crowd, notable for the lack of soot or stain on his black tunic with its neat red piping and his unruffled expression. He looked around at the chaotic scene until he found a face he recognized.

  “Oh, good evening, Miss Scilla.”

  “Zaii? Zaii, did you hear?” Scilla launched herself at the newly arrived demon and went right through him. She landed on the grass, sat up, and promptly started crying again.

  Not actually being present, he wasn’t in a position to physically comfort her, but his tone was soothing. “Now, Miss Scilla, let’s have a little chat and calm ourselves down, shall we?”

  “Calm? But they’re dead.” Scilla couldn’t stop the tears. There wasn’t any reason to. “Lelly and Moth both.”

  “Dead? Oh dear. Coll, a word?” He and the mage whispered furiously at each other for a few minutes. Coll kept shaking his head. Finally, he threw his hands up and strode off to stew about whatever he’d just learned.

  “May I have your attention? All of you? Most of yo
u?” Zaii said.

  The arrival of this exotic little man had attracted some attention, but the collapse of the roof of Auri’s house provided strong competition.

  “Well, it mostly affects you, Scilla, and your family, so I’ll be brief. Your sister and the prince are indeed alive.” He waited for the gasps and cries to subside. “Miss Lelet is injured but is in the good care of Mother Jaa.” He paused. “Does everyone know who she is? Well, you can fill each other in later. My time is short. The prince will obviously remain with her on Eriis until she’s well enough to travel.”

  Althee said, “Did he say anything about Auri?”

  “I’m sorry, who?”

  Althee nodded slowly. “No one. Please continue.”

  Zaii consulted his notes. “He thanks you for your understanding in this difficult time. May, he wanted me to let you know he’d keep you updated regarding your sister’s condition. He also requests that things continue as were agreed to in the negotiations, that is: the dirt still goes through The Door, I believe in three days’ time, at the Guardhouse. In his absence, he has appointed an interim ambassador. I believe you all know him. Coll, would you like to say a few words?”

  The mage, scowling, folded his arms and shook his head.

  “Excellent. Well, I must be off.”

  “Wait.” Scilla reached for his arm, forgetting he was just an image. “How did they get out of the house? How bad is Lel? When can we see her? Is Moth okay? How did you get here? When did you talk to Moth? When can I—”

  “Miss Scilla.” Zaii took a small step back. “It was Ilaan who opened a Door and brought them both safely to Eriis, and it was he, along with Mother Jaa herself, who sent me here, or rather a picture of me. Ilaan used his gifts to appear to me in the city and asked that I deliver this message. I’m actually not quite certain what part of me is here with you, honestly. What I do know is that when we have news of your sister or the prince, it will be delivered to you. That is a promise made by me as a representative of the High Seat, and thus it may not be broken.”

 

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