Written in water, p.17
Written in Water, page 17
Karse shook his head. “I know, Fisher. It doesn’t make sense. But we have to investigate–”
“Karse, let me tell you something you don’t know,” Memfis said. “You know what my boy was, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” He glanced back at one of the men with him, a younger man with sandy blond hair. He nodded, and Karse turned back to Memfis. “I know,” he repeated. “Why?”
“Because if you know that, then you know that Fandor is the one that put him there.” Memfis leaned forward. “And Fandor wants him back. He was here this morning, harassing my boy until I banned him from my forge, and from this district.”
“Fisher, you didn’t!” Karse gasped, and his horse danced underneath him.
“Sealed it on my anvil,” Memfis said. “So ask yourself why this complaint is sworn now, hm?” He frowned. “When was this debt incurred?”
Karse frowned. He took a paper from inside his coat, looking down at it. “It... doesn’t say.”
“If it happened before Owyn was sold, then the debt is considered a loss, right?” Memfis asked. “And if it happened after, well, then, it’s my responsibility. Wait a moment.” He handed the reins to Aven, who yelped.
“Uncle!”
“Stubborn won’t run away with you, Este,” Memfis said. “I need to go back inside.” He climbed down from the cart and went back to the house. Aven swallowed, looking down at the floor of the cart.
“Este?”
Aven looked up to see that Karse had come closer. “Yes, sir.”
“Can’t say I’ve seen you before.”
“New here, sir,” Aven answered. He looked around and gave a nervous grin. “Never seen a place like it. I’m from up north. Came to visit my uncle.”
“You definitely do have a bit of bumpkin about you,” Karse said. “No offense meant, but you’ve clearly never been in a city before.” He peered closer. “Waterblood?”
“Yes, sir,” Aven answered. “Half. I take after my mother.”
“Be careful, then. You’ll dry out faster here,” Karse said gently. He looked past Aven, who turned to see Memfis coming out of the house. He walked past the cart and up to Karse, handing the man a large pouch.
“Fifty casts. Tell him he can choke on it.” Memfis took hold of Stubborn’s harness. “Now, are we done?”
Karse stared at the pouch. “Fisher, if there’s no truth to this complaint, why pay?”
“Because my boy — and between you, me, and the rest of your men, once the paperwork is official tomorrow, I’ll be calling him my son—”
Karse burst out laughing. “I wondered when you’d finally do it!”
Memfis smiled. “Because he’s told me what Fandor did to him. Because I know, and you know, what happens if you take someone indentured in on a debt complaint.” Karse nodded slowly, and Memfis continued. “And because fifty casts is a small price to pay to keep my son safe.”
Karse nodded again. “I’ll see the complaint vacated, then. Since the debt is paid. Where is Owyn, anyway?”
“We’ve a big job coming up, so I sent him off to the coal fields. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“You sent him on Respite?”
“Actually, I sent him yesterday, and told him not to rush, because it was Respite. He’s having a holiday.” Memfis smiled. “Now, can we be going? My mother is expecting me.”
Karse nodded. “Met your nephew here. Didn’t know you had a brother.”
“Jhansri was adopted, same as me. You know I’ve got no bloodline to speak of. He settled up north a ways, built a canoe with a Water girl.”
Karse grinned. “Sounds good. Nice to meet you, Este.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Aven said. He relaxed slightly as the men rode away. Memfis led the cart out into the street, closed the gate, then climbed back up next to Aven and took the reins.
“You handled yourself well,” Memfis murmured. “Let’s get going. It’s got to be hot back there.”
“What was that all about? What would have happened if you hadn’t paid?” Aven asked.
Memfis looked around, then pitched his voice low. “If an indentured slave goes into debt, they become the property of their creditor until the debt is paid. Even if their indentures are owned by someone else.”
Aven coughed. “So if you hadn’t paid—”
“They’d have marched Owyn off in chains, and handed him over to Fandor.”
“And, let me guess. There’s no way to pay off the debt?”
Memfis shook his head. “Nope. A quarter of whatever pittance the law decides the slave is getting paid goes to the debt. The rest goes to the owner of the indentures. And there’s interest on the debt, which is always more than what that quarter applied will cover. So the poor sot ends up being a slave to two masters.”
“That’s barbaric,” Aven muttered. “And Mannon made these laws?”
“Mannon made these laws,” Memfis confirmed.
“Mannon makes bad laws,” Aven grumbled.
“The word you want is shitty,” Memfis said. “Mannon makes shitty laws. Mannon makes laws that are good for people who have money, or power, or connections to money and power. If you don’t? Well, too bad.”
Aven considered the words, then shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
“I’d be surprised if you did,” Memfis said, sounding amused.
“Not the laws. The word. Shitty seems too mild a word.” Aven shrugged. “I don’t know any stronger, though. Me— Fisher, where are we going?”
“You heard me. My mother is expecting me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“MEMFIS,” AVEN ASKED as Memfis drove the cart through a wide gate. “Is this a palace?” He glanced behind them, and saw that two men were closing the gate.
Memfis chuckled. “No, but I can see why you’d think so. You’re about to meet the scion of one of the first families of Forge, a straight line descendant of Nerris and Axia.”
Aven shrugged. “That doesn’t impress me nearly as much as you seem to think it should,” he said. “I’m a straight line descendant of Abin and Axia. So this person is technically related to me.”
“What about this, then?” Memfis offered. “Her bloodline is the first page of the Book of Silver.”
Aven looked at him. “Shouldn’t the entire Fire tribe’s bloodlines start on page one of the Book of Silver?”
Memfis burst out laughing. “True. Very true.”
“You told Karse you were taking me to meet your mother. My grandmother, if we go with the story. Is she really your mother?”
Memfis looked around. “It’s safe inside these walls. She’s Fisher’s adoptive mother,” he answered. “She knows who I really am. She’s known me since I was a boy. She’s not my mother, but she’s the closest I have to one.” He drew back on the reins, and the cart slowed and stopped. “You can go let them out,” he added, nodding toward the back of the cart.
Aven jumped down and went to the rear, moving bundles so that he could flip back the canvas cover. “Owyn, Aria, we’re here.”
Owyn sat up, blinking sweat out of his eyes. “And we’re needing another bath after that,” he grumbled.
“And something to drink,” Aria added. She wiped her face. “Where are we?”
“Big house, belongs to someone important. That’s all I know,” Aven answered. Owyn looked up.
“Lady Meris,” he said. “She’s the Senior Smoke Dancer for the city. Sits on the Council. Both Councils. She’s been part of ruling Forge for fifty years at least.”
Aven frowned. “I thought you said smoke dancing was illegal.”
“Now it is, sure,” Owyn said. “Except for her. Lady Meris... she’s honorary grandmother to most of Forge. If Mannon tried to have her removed from the Council, there’d be blood in the streets. So she’s the last official Smoke Dancer, and the oldest. And the best. And there’s a Magistrate chomping at the bit, waiting for her to stand down so he can finally take her place. But she just keeps on going.”
“Out of pure, unadorned spite,” Memfis said as he joined them. “She says she’s keeping her seat until the Firstborn once more wears Axia’s Crown. Come along. We shouldn’t keep her waiting.” He turned and headed toward the house. Aven glanced at the others. Owyn just nodded, then turned and followed Memfis.
“Are you all right?” Aven asked Aria. She nodded.
“I wish I knew more of what is going on. What Memfis is planning,” she said as they started walking after Owyn. “I feel as if I’m in the middle of The Lay of Axia’s Choice, and I’m missing half the notes of the song.”
Owyn turned around, walking backwards. “You sing?” he asked. “Why haven’t I heard you sing?”
“Because there hasn’t been much time for music for a long time,” she answered, and took his arm. “I haven’t sung a note since before I left my flock. Do you sing?”
“Yeah, some. I like music. How about you, Aven?”
“A little,” Aven admitted. “Not as good as some, but I can carry a tune. I drum. But most of the Water tribe knows how to drum. It carries well underwater.” He looked ahead. “There’s someone there.”
At the door of the house, they saw a woman, stooped with age and leaning on a cane. Her crepe-like skin was dark, but not as dark as Memfis’, and her hair had gone completely white. She was the oldest person Aven had ever seen. Older than his grandmother, he was certain. Possibly old enough to be his grandmother’s grandmother. Memfis leaned down to hug her. Then he turned to look for them.
“Come here,” he called. “You need to meet our benefactor.” He turned back to the old woman. “Meris, this is—”
“I think I know who she is,” Meris said, her voice stronger than her appearance would have indicated. “Memfis, you’ve brought me a great gift.”
“I couldn’t not bring her, Meris.” He held his hand out to Aria. “Aria, daughter of Milon, this is Meris. Your great-grandmother.”
Aria stopped, her nails digging into Aven’s arm. “My... my what?” she gasped.
“You didn’t warn her, Memfis?” Meris said. “Oh, that’s cruel. She had no idea I even existed.”
“You didn’t know about me, either,” Aria said.
“I did. I knew. Milon told me that his Liara was expecting, the last time he came to visit me.” Meris held her hands out. “Come and let me look at you. My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
Aria let go of Aven’s arm, and moved to stand in front of the old woman. Meris straightened slightly, one hand on her cane for support. She smiled.
“You’re his, and no mistake about it,” she said. “I can see him smiling in your eyes.” She held her hand out. “Come inside. I want to know you. I’ve waited a long time for you, my dear.”
Aria took Meris’ hand, and Meris led her into the house. Memfis gestured for Aven to follow. Owyn waited until Aven was next to him before he started walking.
“She’s a legend, Lady Meris is,” he said, his voice low. “She’s possibly one of the strongest Smoke Dancers ever. She wore the Fire gem for Firstborn Riga. Her oldest daughter was Firstborn Tirine, and her younger was Milon’s mother.”
“Does that mean I’m related to Milon? And to Aria?” Aven asked.
“No, Riga didn’t sire either girl,” Memfis answered, falling back to walk with them. “They were full sisters, and their father was another Smoke Dancer.”
“His name was Versin,” Meris called back, and laughed. “My eyes are failing me. My ears are not. Memfis, once we’re settled, introduce me to the young Water man.”
“What about me?” Owyn protested. Meris looked back and smiled.
“I already know you. My darling reprobate. My bonus grandson. My Owyn.”
Owyn grinned. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“And you’re a brat,” Meris finished.
Aven snickered. “She really does know you,” he teased. Owyn elbowed him gently. “How’s Trinket? How’d she do on the trip?”
“Burrowed into the straw and went to sleep,” Owyn answered. He patted his pocket. “She’s here now, and she’s fine. I wish she’d have stayed. We’re not going to be safe.”
“Maybe she’ll stay here?” Aven suggested. Owyn looked up at him.
“I’ll have a talk with her. And with Lady Meris. But Meris keeps cats, so maybe not.”
They walked through the halls, and Aven knew that if he’d been left to his own devices, he’d have been hopelessly lost in a matter of minutes. Finally, they stopped in a large room lined with bookcases. There were cushioned chairs here and there, and a long, high wooden table along one wall that bore bottles of various colors.
“Come in and sit,” Meris said. “Aria, sit here by me. Memfis, introduce me.” She sat down in a tall chair and smiled. “It’s all right, my dear. I don’t bite.”
Memfis turned to Aven, who came to stand in front of Meris. He bowed, the way he would have to his own grandmother.
“Meris, may I present Aven, son of Aleia and Jehan?” Memfis said formally.
“Of what canoe?” Meris asked. Aven blinked.
“Arana’s canoe, Mother,” he answered, giving her the formal title he’d have offered to any older woman of the Water tribe. She smiled.
“You’re surprised I know to ask that?,” she asked. “I spent years with a Waterborn as one of my closest friends. Hara, of Listell’s canoe. She was our Water. Arana’s canoe, that’s a very exalted bloodline. And Aleia and Jehan? My Milon’s Aleia and Jehan?”
“Yes, Mother,” Aven said.
“Then you’re Riga’s blood! His... let me think. His great-grandson.” She leaned back in her chair. “Well.”
“I only just learned that,” Aven admitted. “Ah... yesterday? The day before? I’ve lost track of the days.”
Meris nodded. “I see.” She looked thoughtful, then up at Memfis. “We shouldn’t keep them, Memfis. We’ll only bore them with our talk.”
Memfis arched a brow, then nodded. “Owyn, why don’t you show Aven and Aria down to the kitchens, and get something to eat?”
“Do we have to go?” Aria asked. She blushed when everyone looked at her. “I... I’ve only just found you. I don’t want to leave yet.”
Meris smiled gently. “I’m not throwing you out into the streets , my dear,” she said. “Just sending you off for a bit. We’ve time before the Council meeting to get to know each other.” She made a graceful shooing gesture. “Now go along. We’ll walk in the garden later, just you and I.”
“Come on,” Owyn said. He led them out of the room, and into the hall. Once the door was closed, he looked up and down the hall. Then he turned to them, a serious expression on his face. “Come on,” he repeated, this time in a whisper. “Follow me. Don’t argue.”
Shocked, Aven looked at Aria, who shrugged. They followed Owyn down the hall to another door, and into another room.
“Owyn, what are we doing?” Aven asked.
“Listening,” Owyn answered. “Look, you don’t have to. Not if it makes you uncomfortable. But I need to. I... you need to know why. I don’t like it when people talk about me behind my back. On the streets, that shit gets you killed. I learned that lesson a long time ago, and I learned it well. So, I listen.” He looked at Aven, then Aria. “If I don’t know, I get nervous. Scared. And... yeah, it’s not good. Mem understands. He usually is pretty good about making sure that I know what’s being said. But this? He usually doesn’t shut me out. He knows I don’t deal well with it. And he only ever does it with Meris, so... I listen.” He pointed to another door. “That closet backs up to Lady Meris’ library. We’ll be able to hear them if we’re quiet.”
Aven looked at the door. “Memfis won’t like this, will he?”
“Probably not. But this is about us. And what we don’t know might hurt us,” Owyn looked at the door. “Are you coming, or not?”
“I am,” Aria said. “I don’t like being sent from the room like a child.”
Aven nodded. “I’ve spent the past few weeks feeling as if I’ve been swimming my entire life through muddy waters, and just never knew it. I’m not going back to ignorance now.”
Owyn smiled. “Right. Once I open that door, not a word, not a sneeze, not a fart. Got it? If we can hear them, they can hear us.” He opened the door and they crowded inside. The closet was small, and cramped, and they couldn’t close the door because of Aria’s wings. They ended up with Owyn kneeling, and Aven standing over him, with Aria pressed against his back. And, as Owyn said, they could hear every word.
“— drink, Meris?”
“Just tea. Which you should have as well. I don’t want you crawling back into a bottle, Memfis.”
Memfis’ voice grew louder, and Aven realized that this wall was the same as the one that ran behind the long table of bottles. “As if I would,” Memfis said. “No, I need my head on straight for this.”
“Tell me your thoughts, then.”
“I’m still getting my thoughts in order,” Memfis said eventually. “She’s the dove. I’m certain of it.”
“Memfis, really. We were all of us certain about Yana.” There was a long pause. “No. No, I’m wrong. You were the only one who said you weren’t certain. I was always impressed that you didn’t tell the rest of us ‘I told you so’ when she vanished. So convince me. Why are you so sure of Aria, when you weren’t about Yana?”
“Yana didn’t have any of her Companions. She wasn’t interested in finding them, either. Aria has two of the four. Aven is the water-cat. Owyn is the flame,” he chuckled. “My Owyn. My Fire Mouse.”
“Are you surprised?” Meris asked. “He’s been through the heart of the furnace to become the man he is. And then you took him and put an edge on him. He still has his flaws, but he’s a masterwork all the same. Memfis, you should be proud of him.”
“I am,” Memfis said.
Aven looked down and smiled, resting his hand on Owyn’s shoulder. Owyn tipped his head back.
“You’re that sure of them,” Meris said. “And what? What are you hoping to accomplish tonight?”
“Tonight? I’m getting them the fuck out of Forge—”
