Light on shattered water, p.76
Light on Shattered Water, page 76
At another time I might have laughed at the presumption, but now all I was feeling was numb. I just looked at her: an inhuman silhouette against the blue haze of the window. There was frost there a part of me noticed, glittering in a fluctuating moonlight. “A promise?” I murmured.
Again she raised her hand and I heard claws clicking in uncertainty. “The way you tried to escape the pain before. Please, don’t do it again.”
It was a second before I realized what she was referring to. Then I grinned: a death’s head that was all human emotion and very little humor. “You mean kill myself.”
Just a gesture: yes.
I closed my eyes again. In a way she was right: it’d be an escape, a way out of this. It’d also be deserting Chihirae. When I opened my eyes she was still watching me. “On a condition,” I said and when she cocked her head I held the bracelet back out to her. “Take it?” I asked.
She didn’t move.
“Please. . . Mai?” I swallowed. “If what we had meant anything. . .” I trailed off, realizing that was just foolish. “If you want my word. . . Please.”
And it was the longest time to wait. A question that meant the world to me at that instant and the seconds she hesitated just crawled by. Then she took a step: a fluid move toward me and hooked the bracelet, clasping it in both hands as she stepped away again. “Why couldn’t you have been Rris?” she almost snarled, then ducked her head and a peculiar sound escaped her: a small mewling. “Goodbye, Mikah Ri’ey. Have a good life.”
“Goodbye,” I think I said, perhaps only loud enough to be heard by myself. And to this day I’ve regretted that as the next second she’d turned and the door was closing behind her.
I lay quietly. There were a few remote sounds and then silence. Outside, snow fell: fat flakes adhering to the windows and frosting the glass in translucent white. Later, the lamp guttered and went out. In the cold moonlight I remembered nights of warm embraces, of someone to talk to, to be with. A sense of actual. . . security, of belonging.
Oh, god. . .
I just clutched at the sheets and screamed. Until my throat was raw and there was nothing left. It didn’t help.
------v------
There was a pale light on Shattered Water when the guards arrived.
Dawn colors glowed in the sky and with the rising sun came the sound of voices in the other room. Metal clattered, then the door was tried, opened a bit, hesitated, then burst open and there were armed soldiers clattering into the room. Their breath puffed in rapid white clouds that hung in the air like speech bubbles as they stood there and panted, watching me with wide eyes. An officer pushed through, saw what was going on and snapped orders.
They found a key for the shackles. As Mai had promised. They provided heavy blankets and stood by, offering occasional uncertain hands as I stood and slowly and painfully limped where they led.
The building was a storehouse of some kind, down in a less-reputable part of town. Snow covered the ground, icicles hung from eaves and armored guards were everywhere. The cold stabbed at my bare feet and my wounds ached as I made my way to a waiting wagon and needed help getting in.
Two guards watched me as we rattled and bumped through a white cityscape. Nobody had spoke a word. I pulled the blankets closer, closed my eyes and suffered in silence.
------v------
When I’d arrived back at the Palace there’d been a chaotic rush from the carriage, a confusion of guards everywhere. My leg ached abominably and gave out beneath me when I tried to step down and I grabbed for a handhold and the sheets at the same time and succeeded with neither, collapsing in a humiliating tangle in the snow in front of dozens of guards. They stared until an officer snarled and troopers moved forward to help me. I tried to tell them about Chihirae but nobody seemed to be listening, or care. They just rushed me along as best my condition would allow.
There’d been a fire blazing in my quarters, melting the worst of the chill out of the air. I was deposited on the bed while physicians clustered about, examining, fussing, changed the bandages, medicated the wounds. All very professional, efficient, thorough and completely impersonal. I looked up at eyes that continually skirted around my gaze, concentrating on anything but my face. And when I tried to get up or to tell them about Chihirae they pressed me back and told me to be quiet until I closed my eyes and let them do what they willed, moving when they wanted but otherwise just letting the world wash around me.
I was so tired.
I never really noticed when they finished. All I remember is that the hands that’d been touching me weren’t there anymore and there were more voices in the background. I hurt when I moved my head to see Rris leaving my quarters: the guards and the physicians trooping out the door. Why? The reason was watching me from over by the window. Hirht standing and regarding me solemnly, not even his tail twitching. Beyond, Kh’hitch stood with a scribe’s board in hand and a neutral expression.
“How are you managing?” Hirht inquired.
“I’ll. . . live,” I said without feeling anything.
For a few seconds those eyes studied me before he ducked his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m afraid I really don’t know what else to say. We had no idea.”
No idea. I stared, frustration and anger stretching something inside me to breaking point. They’d had no idea. . . I’d had no idea. I’d lived with her, I’d slept with her and I’d never had the slightest inkling. The fury inside me died and I sagged back. How could they have known?
“No sir,” I said quietly, simply and pulled a blanket closer around me. “No sir. Sir. . . who was she?”
A rustle of fur on cloth as the king shifted. “I don’t know. An agent, that much is obvious. Not mercenary, something more than that.” He waved a small shrug. “The matter is being investigated.”
I caught a shuddering breath. “She said Chihirae is coming here.”
A hint of reaction around the eyes, then in somewhat displeased tones: “She told you about that.”
“It’s true?” My fists were clenching, nails digging into my palms.
He waved a small gesture. “A.”
“Oh, no,” I moaned, then demanded: “Those bastards , you got them? You got them all?”
Hirht’s muzzle rumpled. “If you’re referring to the individuals who abducted you. . . We don’t know. There was a disturbance near the docks. When the patrol arrived they found a number of bodies, one with a note containing directions to an estate in the Rocks pinned to it. When we stormed the premises there was resistance. We found a handful of individuals who were doubtless involved in your abduction.”
“Haies?” I grated.
“Haies?” Hirht blinked at the name.
“Haies aesh Tohi. . . Tohikenishi. . . something like that,” I shook my head. “An. . . assistant to someone. In the military I think. She was there. She was responsible.”
“Military?” Hirht threw a sharp glance back at Kh’hitch.
“It would explain a lot sire,” Kh’hitch rumbled and scratched something with a quill pen. “It’ll be investigated immediately.”
Something tightened in my guts. If they didn’t know about her. . .
“The other?” I ventured, dreading the response. “The one with the bracelet?”
“Bracelet?” Hirht looked surprised then furrowed his muzzle. “Him again?”
“Please. Did you get him?”
Another glance at the advisor who cocked his head slightly: “Nobody of such description, sir.”
“Oh, god,” I felt ill: things were accelerating out of control and headed in her direction. “Sir, I have to go. They’re going to harm her. I have to go.”
“Hai!” he barked as I started to wobble to my feet and then he was across the room to lay clawed hands on my shoulders, pushing me back. I yelped as he scraped lacerations, bandages shifted and I sat back down on the edge of the bed, lightheaded with the pain from the welts covering my back.
“You’re in no condition to go anywhere,” Hirht admonished. Behind him, Kh’hitch waved guards back out. “What do you mean? Who’s going to hurt her?”
“They’ve gone,” I choked. “You didn’t find them all. Not all. Others. . . go. They find her. Hurt her. Not know others gone now. . .” I stuttered to a halt, trying to speak faster than my ability with the Rris language would allow.
Without modern communications capability that could call ahead, it was like chasing after a burning fuse. They’d got the one that lit it, but now the flame was chasing off toward the keg without any awareness of what had happened to the hand that started it. And if they’d taken her; if they found out their operation had been shut down?
A hostage would become superfluous.
“I have to go,” I repeated, imploring.
Hirht’s ears laid back. “No, Mikah. We’ll look after this. Don’t worry. She’s on the water route, through Shashi’s Gate, Tailtied, Broken Sun and Blizzard’s Coat. She’ll be escorted.”
“Please, sir. I want to go to her.”
“Out of the question. It’ll be handled. Meantime, there are some other questions I’d like to ask you.”
I sagged, the breath and fight escaping me. “Yes, sir.”
Questions. That there were: what had happened? What did I remember? Describe the faces, the sounds, smells, what they’d said. And I answered as best I could remember, and while I talked the reality of what had happened weighed in on me again: the utter disruption of my world, for the second time in as many years, the loss of something so close to me. The questions kept coming, prying and incessant and I kept seeing that face that used to lie so close to me at night.
I broke down, shuddering uncontrollably. And when the Rris king said something I just exploded in rage and grief and frustration; tears streaming down my face as I screamed at them in cracking Rris and English to get the fuck out of there and just leave me the hell alone. Guards appeared at the door. Kh’hitch’s ears laid flat against his furry mane as I raged at them, but Hirht just ducked his head and turned and left me, the others following in his wake.
And for uncountable hours I just wallowed in a grief that scoured the places my physical wounds never met. A grief that stormed through my soul and emotions, ripping and tearing and breaking as it went, and in the depths of despair I could find only one reason to go on.
------v------
An unflappable seneschal roused me from a tattered sleep the next morning. My eyes burned, my head was thick and muggy and the sharp winter sunlight cutting through the window was in direct counterpoint to my mood. My presence was required, I was informed while a servant laid a breakfast tray and beat a hasty retreat.
I hadn’t undressed the night before, and I didn’t bother to change my rumpled clothing then. My stomach snarled at the smell of food and I tried to remember when I’d last had a decent meal. That night when Mai. . . when Mai. . . I stood staring down at the tray of exquisitely prepared meats and pastries, my appetite gone.
An entire squad of armed guards was waiting in the hall outside. I stopped, looking at the guns and armor with a resigned feeling. The officer laid his ears back and ducked his head under my gaze and I shook my own head then turned to limp after the major domo.
They kept the pace slow and easy, which was all I could really manage. The gouge the bullet had traced across my leg wasn’t that deep, but it was painful and enough to slow me down. My back ached every time the bandages shifted, forcing me to keep my back stiff and immobile. So the guards ambled along at my crippled pace, watching corridors, doors, any other Rris they happened to see. I limped along with the aid of a walking stick that clacked on tiles and wooden flooring, following my Rris guides while my mind wandered other halls.
In a long gallery in the outer reaches of the Palace sunlight spilled in through high mullioned windows, washing across a floor inlaid with decorative tiles, a wall hung with vibrant tapestries. I stopped at a window, looking out across a world turned white and pale and harsh under winter’s touch. Echoing my mood: washed out, overloaded.
A guard touched my arm and ventured, “Sir?”
I turned and looked into lambent amber eyes, saw the flicker of muscles in the features around them, the pupils contracting and expanding. I never thought about it, never moved my eyes; seemingly of its own volition my hand reached out and smoothly caught the butt tucked into the bandoleer and the gun was in my hand. The eyes widened, turning to horrified black pools as the guard realized and pulled away. Too late.
I looked down and for the second time in my life I was staring down the muzzle of a Rris pistol held in my own hands. A solid weight of wood and metal, the florid mechanism moving smoothly under my finger as I cocked it with a snick that was loud in the abrupt silence.
“Sir,” I was aware of a strangled-sounding Rris saying something.
It was loaded. I could see the rough patch of wadding deep within the barrel; the scratches in the metal around the muzzle; smell old propellant and lubrication. It was a moment when everything focused on the weight in my hand, and a moment when nothing had ever seemed more real or more abstract.
Just a squeeze of my finger. . .
And a promise would be broken.
But it would be so easy.
Rris voices around me were rising in urgency – cajoling, imploring me to be careful, did I know what I was doing? Did they understand? It wasn’t in the Rris psyche, they couldn’t know how easy it’d be for me to just squeeze.
And it wouldn’t help Chihirae.
I let my arm drop and immediately guards were prising the gun from my hand. I let them take it and retreat with ears plastered to their heads while I just turned and started limping off.
After a few steps I turned back to the crowd and the seneschal who was looking uncharacteristically rattled. “Are we going?” I asked and he huffed, drew himself up, and stalked ahead.
------v------
The double doors to Hirht’s office swung open to reveal the imposing bulk of Kh’hitch. He stared at me for a second, then sighed a white cloud and said, “His highness will see you now.”
I followed him into the big white room. It was cold in there, the sun not yet around to shine in the windows but still raising a glare from the ice gardens outside. The walking stick raised a steady tapping keeping time with the staccato clicking of Kh’hitch’s claws as we crossed to where the Rris king was seated at his desk, the Seneschal standing off to one side. Hirht dipped his head slightly, watching me from under hooded eyes, then gestured to the aide who sketched a bow then skirted around me on his way out.
I stood in front of the King of Land-of-water while he looked up at me, studying me as if he were seeking something. And maybe he found it: there was a change of posture, his head going back a fraction before the mask fell into place again. “Why didn’t you pull the trigger?”
“I want to go to her,” I said.
His ears tipped back a little. “You do,” he said and glanced down at the old wooden desktop, clear of papers and trappings for once. I was half-expecting him to try and change the subject, but he didn’t. “You know I can’t allow that, Mikah. It’s far too dangerous.”
“So I sit here while someone I owe my life is hunted. And I’m responsible. I can’t do that.”
“And I can’t let you go running off after her. Mikah, there’s nothing you can do that we can’t. All you’ll be doing will be putting yourself at risk.”
I didn’t look away from those alien eyes. “So you’ll keep me here. Guards and locks and bars.”
“If need be.”
Now I turned, staring out at the cold lands outside. My breath frosted in the air. “You know, a gun’s not necessary. There are other ways.”
Now his ears went flat against his skull. His mouth opened, then closed again.
“You couldn’t watch me. Not all the time.”
I’d never seen such an expression on Hirht’s face before, certainly never one so stricken. “Mikah. . . why?”
“Why?” I hesitated, trying to package the emotions inside me into something a Rris might understand. “Because, after all that’s happened since I’ve been here, she’s the only one who hasn’t betrayed me. She was kind to me even when she had no idea what I was. I. . . she means a great deal to me.”
“In the same way the doctor did?”
If I’d had ears like Rris, it’d have been my turn to lay them back. “I didn’t understand that the. . . that how I felt about her was something she couldn’t feel about me. I mean, I knew it, but I didn’t really understand it, not truly. Chihirae. . . I know this, but it doesn’t change what she means to me. Sir, I have to go.”
He studied me, then raised a hand to gesture a dismissal to his advisor. I heard Kh’hitch’s claws again, then the door closing. The King looked in that direction, back to me, then asked, “Mikah, are you sane?”
I suppose I should’ve been insulted, but at that moment I really didn’t feel anything. I shrugged slightly. “Compared to what? To Rris? I don’t know. To my own kind? . . I’m not sure anymore.”
His expression didn’t change but I saw the glance toward the doors and for a second I was reminded of the first time I’d met him. There’d been the same look then. “You brought me here to ask me that?”
“No.” He gave a quick flick of his ears. “Not just that. This matter with the doctor.” A hissing breath escaped him. “Maithris aesh Teremae. Meddling Times is a small town near the Bluebetter border. A good choice for a cover story. It will take some time for our people to get there and back and verify what has happened, but for now there are some details that are on record: There is a Teremae holding: small, but well-established and reputable. There was a Maithris aesh Teremae who left to come to Shattered Water. The name was registered with the Medical Guild.”
