* * * *
The magister’s city estate was a lavishly manicured garden fortress at the top of a hill. They were met halfway there by a wind-carriage drawn by four purple and gold pegasus, their feathered manes twined with flowers. The carriage had foldable, kite-like wings attached to its sides, and a balloon of light gas attached to the rear. It was constructed to skim along above the rooftops when the wings were opened. The market area at city center provided space for take-off.
Farell and several of the captains from the ship met them there, brought by messenger. Silveo sent the rest of the sailors back to the ship with permission to take the evening off and enjoy themselves. Gerard thought of Alsair. The griffin would have been entirely at home in such an environment, and Gerard wished he hadn’t sent him away.
They had a pleasant ride over the rooftops with the wind in their faces and arrived at last at the hilltop estate amid spreading trees and rich archways of flowering vines. Nothing could seem further from Slag Harbor or the squalor of Ocelon Town, but Gerard noticed that most of the retainers were ocelons. They looked better fed than those in the streets, immaculate in white and gold livery that accentuated their exotic stripes and brilliant eyes. They padded around the estate, bootless on their spotted paws, quiet as shadows and as ornamental as the flowers.
The light had almost faded when they arrived. Torches had been lit in the garden. Gerard heard harp music coming from the pavilion at the center and strode towards it. “Thess?”
The music stopped at once, and she came tripping down the steps, as light-footed as a gazumelle. She ran into his arms. “Gerard!”
He hugged her hard. “Thess.” His voice almost broke. “You cannot follow me around. How did you get here?”
She laid her head against his chest. “An airship. We had a favorable wind. I’ve sailed that route before.” During her touring days as a minstrel student, Thessalyn had been all over Wefrivain. She’d traveled more than Gerard. “You seemed so unhappy about coming; I thought I’d beat you here and surprise you.”
“You did.” He wanted to lecture her, but it felt so good to have her in his arms.
Marlo Snale came slinking out of the pavilion. “Sir, I tried to stop her—”
Gerard shook his head. “I understand.”
“There was nothing to do but come with her,” continued Marlo.
“Thank you for that,” said Gerard.
“I am sorry, sir.”
“It’s alright,” said Gerard, although it wasn’t. But there’s nothing Marlo could have done. If I can’t keep Thess from walking in harm’s way, he certainly wouldn’t be able to. He remembered a time he’d found her strolling alone on the beach on Holovarus, how he’d chided her about tides and pirates and wild animals, and she’d just kept talking about shells and ballads and the smell of the ocean. The trouble was that she’d never been able to see. A shelt who’d gone blind later in life would know the world as it was, would fear their vulnerability in it, but Thessalyn knew only the world as she perceived it, the world in her mind. Gerard had never been able to convince her that it was a deeply dangerous place.
“They have giant butterwort flowers here,” continued Thessalyn. “They’re very interesting. They eat insects. They don’t grow anywhere else. Come and see!” She used that word blithely, knowing that for her it meant to touch, and for him it meant something else.
“Thess!” Gerard took her by the shoulders. “Listen to me: you really can’t follow me around Wefrivain. It—is—dangerous. Please!”
She frowned and brought out her practical voice. “You don’t really expect me to sit at home and worry about you like a sailor’s wife? I am a professional wanderer; you can’t take that away from me, Gerard.”
Gerard bowed his head. There was the trouble. Thessalyn could sing her way to almost any place in the islands. Shelts would not charge her a cowry, and they’d thank her for coming. Normally, her blindness would not put her in much danger—not in the company that would patronize her talents. The title of minstrel gave her a great deal of protection as well, especially to the devout or those who simply feared the gods.
“Yes,” he said carefully, “but I am making enemies.”
Someone cleared his throat, and Gerard turned to see Silveo standing at his elbow. “What he’s try to say in his inarticulate fashion is that the world is not a safe place because there are shelts like me in it.”
Gerard glared down at him.
Silveo kept looking at Thessalyn. “He’s right about that. However, when it comes to me, he worries needlessly. I would not harm someone so lovely—or, at least, I’d need a better reason than Holovar.”
Thessalyn smiled. “Silveo Lamire?”
“For better or for worse.”
She crouched down so that she was on eye level with him. Gerard’s fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, but Silveo ignored him. Thessalyn put a hand out and went over Silveo’s face lightly with her fingertips—her way of seeing someone. Silveo didn’t flinch, even when her fingers danced around his eyes.
Thessalyn giggled. “As Gerard says—too much kohl.”
Silveo grinned. “Is that all he says?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Her fingers whisked over his hat and earrings. “You love pretty things, don’t you?”
“To a fault, as I’m sure your husband has commented upon.”
Thessalyn smiled in the way she did when she was about to say something funny—so that her whole face crinkled up. “I think Gerard is pretty.”
Gerard rolled his eyes. Silveo seemed momentarily startled, then barked a laugh. He kept laughing helplessly for several seconds, then wiped a tear from his eye. “Lady, you have rendered me completely without comment, and that’s not an easy thing to do.”
“Please be nice to my husband, Admiral.”
“I have already told your husband what he needs to do to procure my goodwill, although I see now why he doesn’t want to do it.” Silveo reached into his pocket, and Gerard reached for his sword again.
Silveo glanced at him and very deliberately brought out a little tin. It turned out to contain some kind of candy. He took out a piece and bit it in half. “Now, your husband will note that I have eaten part of this to demonstrate its lack of poison.” He handed the other half to Thessalyn. “It comes from the Lawless Lands, and they sell it sometimes on Sern. I believe it’s called chocolate.”
Thessalyn put the candy in her mouth and chewed for a moment. She shut her eyes in expression of bliss. “Hmm…”
Silveo handed her the tin. “If Holovar wishes, I will bite them all in half, or he can. Otherwise, they’re yours. Have a lovely time on Sern, Lady.”
Gerard watched him go, frowning. Flirtation was the last thing he’d expected when Silveo crossed paths with Thessalyn. But I really don’t think he would hurt her. The idea filled him with immense relief.
Thessalyn interrupted his thoughts. “Is he gone?”
“Yes. Well, he’s across the courtyard.”
“Is he always like that?”
Gerard snorted. “That was as gentle as I’ve ever seen him.”
“He’s not all bad.”
“No. Only mostly.”
She hugged him again. “Are you less afraid for me now?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s dance. I want to dance.”
She could dance very well, provided her partner made certain they didn’t run into anyone. Several other musicians had begun to play in the pavilion and they went round and round in the twilight with the torches burning and fireflies glowing over the grass.
The Guild of the Cowry Catchers, Book 1: Embers Page 18