The burglar of sliceharb.., p.19
The Burglar of Sliceharbor, page 19
part #4 of Edgewhen Series
Gusty looked at her in surprise. It was true. He could swim a little. Everybody in Sliceharbor could.
Iris Daylight looked down into the water. “He will never find it,” she said. “And I am certain the water has already destroyed it.”
Gloria Sunrise smiled and asked, “Is that why you are so willing to talk about it in front of Gusty?”
Iris Daylight looked up, alarmed at the idea that Gusty might be intelligent enough to figure out she was talking about a copy of the Sun Scroll. She gave Gloria Sunrise a guilty look.
“Forgive me,” she said.
Gloria Sunrise smiled and shook her head. “You have done nothing wrong. The time has come for Gusty to know.”
She put her hand on Gusty’s armored shoulder and drew him back a few steps from the edge.
“Gusty Longbread,” she said, “when I first met you, you had been given a task – to find the Sun Scroll. I was given the same task by the Queen Matyu. One copy was held in the library of the Senatorial Palace, and I was well on my way to securing it when it was stolen.
“But there was a second copy. When the Mother Goddess revealed her secrets to Ruby Sunrise, Ruby wrote them down twice, precisely because she feared one copy could be lost. The second copy, the one we came here to find, was hidden beneath the floor tiles of her cell, on the sunward side of the temple.
“Matyu Iris now fears that copy has also been lost. But I believe it is right here. The Mother Goddess has led us here, you and me, and brought us together on the same mission. I am here because our people must have that scroll. And you are here to help me get it.”
Divine warmth filled Gusty’s lungs, and in that instant, he knew Gloria’s words were true. The Mother Goddess wanted this second scroll to be found. And she had guided him there for that reason.
“What is it?” Gloria Sunrise asked.
“I felt …”
“Did the Mother Goddess touch your soul?” Matyu Gloria asked.
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Then you have been blessed,” she said with satisfaction.
Gusty looked at her in wonder. “Is that what it feels like to be a matyu?”
“Yes,” she said. “On the best days.”
“So will he help us?” Iris Daylight asked.
“Of course,” Gusty said. “But …”
They waited for him to continue.
“Ambassador – Matyu Gloria – I can swim, but only a little. We don’t know how deeply the rubble is submerged.”
“The Mother Goddess would not give you this task were it beyond your abilities,” Matyu Gloria assured him.
Gusty would have liked for that to be true, but the brief touch of the Mother Goddess had left him. He was on his own again. He knew what the Mother Goddess wanted him to do, but he didn’t see how. The tea-dark water could be impossibly deep. Gusty, like all oranges, tended to float.
“Matyu Gloria, Tisha swims so much better than I do.”
“Your abilities will be enough,” Matyu Gloria said. “We need not share this with her.”
“We have already had one scroll stolen,” said Iris Daylight. “We must not let them know about the second.”
“Tisha would never steal a sacred scroll,” Gusty said.
“And what of her skinny friend?” asked Iris Daylight.
Well, Gusty couldn’t vouch for the Crane’s character, of course. And if they left him alone in the village, he’d probably sneak up the trail and spy on them. Maybe they could leave one of the Rock brothers with him.
But then Gusty realized something. The Crane wasn’t brave enough or stupid enough to steal the second scroll while two urbies were watching – at least, not if he wasn’t being paid. And besides, the Crane didn’t seem particularly happy about what had happened after he stole the first scroll.
“I won’t say we can trust him,” Gusty said. “But I don’t think he’d try to steal it for himself. In fact, I think he would be happier if he helped us find it.”
“That is out of consideration,” Iris Daylight said. “If the scroll can be found, we must find it ourselves. What if these natives find it and decide to destroy it?”
“Why would they do that?” Gusty asked.
“Did you know that the guide is misaligned? He serves nature spirits!”
Clever and Pious Rock exchanged concerned glances.
Gusty said, “It’s just a local religion common among … people like Bendoko. They don’t serve the deities, but they don’t commit sacrilege, either.”
This was true. Sliceharbor’s criminal class committed everything else, but usually not sacrilege.
“Will you not even try?” asked Matyu Gloria.
Gusty said, “Yes, I’ll try, Matyu. If that’s what you want. But I doubt I can dive much deeper than Pious and Clever. Has the Mother Goddess told you that I’m the only one who can find it? What if my job is helping you work with the people who can dive?”
Matyu Gloria considered this. Even Iris Daylight was considering.
“The deities made the nine peoples different so they could help each other,” Matyu Gloria said.
“But when you consider how little help we have received so far …” said Iris Daylight.
“Nevertheless, we will give them another chance to help us now,” Matyu Gloria said. “Gusty Longbread is right. I would never consider diving into that pit myself. Would you?”
“No,” said Iris Daylight.
“So we need to call upon the people who were created to be divers.”
“At least let Gusty Longbread try it first. He said he would. Give him one day. Or even two. Let us not call on the natives until we are certain Gusty cannot find it.”
“No,” said Matyu Gloria. “That would be a waste of time. And we must not waste more time. We have an enemy in the Senate. Perhaps more than one. The more time we spend here, the more we risk being discovered. We need to return to Sliceharbor before the natives notice we are missing.”
* * *
Coated in mud to conceal his skin and ward off mosquitoes, Ensign Shuver of the Republican Navy crept through the jungle parallel to the path. The ground was soft, and he couldn’t risk leaving a footprint. Only Children of the Sun had gone up the trail this morning, and his normal-sized track would stand out among the prints of their giant sandals.
Because the ambassador had left the two Children of Justice at the village inn, Ensign Shuver didn’t expect her to travel very far. And he was right. The thumping of the ground told him the Children of the Sun were coming back down the trail.
Ensign Shuver flattened himself against the ground, wriggling his mud-covered legs into the bracken. Though he knew the whites of his eyes might give him away, he kept his head up, watching the trail. This was his first chance to get a close look.
The one in front brushed through the ferns with a clattering hiss. Cane shin-guards. Of course. He was with the Urban Cohort. Shuver had noticed a strange indentation by his tracks sometimes. He now realized the impression had been left by the giant leaning on his paddle-club.
The next one moved like a cat. He didn’t have any armor – nor any weapons that Shuver could see – but he moved like a killer. He was male. Shuver could tell by the knees.
The next giant was a female. Fine leather-crafted sandals. She was probably the ambassador. Only rich people could afford leather. Poor people had to buy something that could be worn in the rain every day.
Next came the small-footed giant. She stopped, right where Shuver could get a good view of her orange ankles.
“I smell swamp mud,” she said.
Damn! Shuver thought. Damn the giants for their sense of smell, and damn me for forgetting about it.
His camouflage and insect protection had come from the marsh by the greathouse. Of course he smelled out of place. If the sniffing giant bent down and poked her head into the bracken, he was sunk.
The woman ahead of her said, “We are getting close to the lake, Matyu Iris.”
“Not that close,” said the woman with the small feet. She had leather sandals, too, but they weren’t as nice as the other’s.
“I have made up my mind,” the woman ahead called. “Accept that. And stop dragging your feet.”
“I am not dragging my feet,” she grumbled. She resumed walking down the trail.
The last giant said nothing. He, too, paused to sniff the air, but he did not linger.
They left behind a sharp odor that was said to repel insects. Amazing they could smell anything at all when they stank like that.
Ensign Shuver waited for his heart to stop pounding before backtracking them to find out where they had been.
* * *
Tisha awoke earlier than she would have liked, but well after everyone else had arisen and left the women’s quarters. She carefully rolled herself out of the hammock and managed to land on her feet.
Staying at an orange inn was like visiting a foreign country. Women and men had to sleep in separate rooms. No beds were available, only hammocks. And these were built for women much larger than Tisha.
But at least the hammock had been stable. Tisha hadn’t fallen out once.
Tisha studied the sleep marks the hammock had left on her grubby skin. She wanted a swim before she got dressed.
She looked at her weapons and armor sitting in a pile by the wall. No one would steal them. Well, Bendoko might, under other circumstances, but he probably wouldn’t steal them today.
Tisha checked her breastband and her loincloth to be sure everything was decently covered. Then she left the inn.
The village was awake with people working in gardens or hanging out laundry. A group of children – some of them as tall as Tisha – were chasing an escaped pig, trying to trap it against one of the wooden fences. Three old women watched the sport from benches by the well.
Their eyes turned to Tisha as she walked by. Maybe she should have gotten dressed. She had heard that jungle people were more casual about dressing to go swimming, but maybe that was only true of blue jungle people. Everyone here was dressed. She wished she’d brought a sari.
Tisha realized she saw no mongzhis. Maybe the Order of the Holy Shield really was on her side.
Sides. Is that what it was all about? Were there two sides in Sliceharbor now?
The path to the water was easy to find, and at the end of it she also found one of her saris – the yellow one she had loaned to Bendoko. He must be in the water somewhere.
A waterfall dropped five feet off a ledge and splashed into a round pool deep enough for bathing. From there, the stream meandered off into the darkness of the jungle.
Tisha slipped quietly into the water, submerged, and listened for sounds of Bendoko swimming. The splash of the waterfall was too noisy for her to hear anything.
Well, he wasn’t in the pool. It was so clear that she would have seen him. She gave a dolphin kick and undulated downstream.
The slow, cool water was deep enough for underwater swimming. Tisha settled in at crayfish depth and listened for Bendoko the Crane.
A wave pushed against her head. It wasn’t the reflection of her dolphin kick; it was a sudden, quick motion about thirty feet downstream. She was under the jungle canopy now, and her eyes had not adjusted to the shadows, but she could hear this wave perfectly well.
Tisha blew out her air and started breathing the water. Overhead, her air bubbles popped on the surface.
The body downstream jerked at the sound. Something burst out of the water and splashed its way onto the bank.
Tisha pushed her feet off the slimy stream bed and poked her head up to see what had made such commotion. It was Bendoko, sitting on the bank, backing away from her, wild-eyed.
“Tisha!” he gasped.
She expelled the water from her lungs and took in a breath of air so she could speak.
She asked, “Who did you think it was?”
“An alligator.”
“We’re only five hundred yards from the greathouse. The Order of the Holy Shield wouldn’t let alligators move into the village stream.”
“You never know,” Bendoko said. “Sometimes one even slips into Sliceharbor.”
“Well, I’m not an alligator,” she said.
She let the current carry her downstream toward him. “Come back in,” she said. “I’ll protect you.”
She had meant it as a joke, but he asked, “Are you wearing your alligator knife?”
“It’s called a ‘combat knife’,” Tisha said, “and I left it at the inn. I guess I’m a risk-taker.”
“Yeah,” said Bendoko, taking her seriously again.
“You coming back in, or you gonna lie there like mosquito bait?”
Bendoko slipped back into the water.
“Want to see what’s downstream?” Tisha asked.
“No, let’s go back to the pool,” Bendoko said. “I don’t want to swim where I can’t see.”
“You’d hear an alligator,” Tisha said, as she turned to go back with him. “They’re pretty big.”
“You ever seen one?” Bendoko asked. “A live one?”
“No. Have you?”
“No,” said Bendoko. “And I don’t want to.”
They walked on the bottom and pushed their way upstream. Bendoko didn’t drop his head into the water, so Tisha didn’t either. If he wanted to talk, she was happy to talk back.
“I guess we have the day to ourselves,” Bendoko said.
All right. She hadn’t really wanted to talk about that.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Sorry,” he said.
“For what, Ben?”
“For … whatever is making you sad.”
“I’m not sad, Ben.”
“Oh. All right.”
They reached the pool. Tisha ducked under and dove down to the rocky bottom. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at the ripples of light and the Crane’s water-treading legs.
She floated back up to him.
“Why do you think I’m sad?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Yesterday on the road … And then now when I mentioned … Is there trouble between you and Gusty?”
“No,” she said. “Gus and I get along fine.”
“All right,” he said.
A kingfisher landed on a nearby branch, scolded them for being in his pool, and flew away.
“You have any orange friends, Ben?”
“I don’t have any friends,” Bendoko said.
“Sander and Vernda like you all right.”
“Yeah, I like them, too.” He tipped his head back, so that only his mouth and nose were out of the water. “But they’re good people. Criminals can’t be friends with good people.”
“I guess you’re right,” Tisha said. But maybe he didn’t hear her. His ears were under water.
“I’m worried oranges and blues can’t be friends anymore, either,” Tisha said.
Bendoko popped his head up again. “Why do you say that?” He sounded almost defensive.
“This whole war thing. Not just the Sun Scroll, Ben. All of it.”
“But you and Gusty are friends. Right?”
“Yeah,” Tisha said. “We’re friends.”
“But what?”
“I didn’t say ‘but’.”
“All right,” he said.
They were friends. They were.
“I don’t know,” Tisha said. “Maybe he just needs space right now.”
“Space?”
“He seems to want distance from me.”
“Oh,” said Bendoko. “I thought the Bossy One ordered him to leave us behind.”
“Yeah,” Tisha said. “I guess.”
“Look,” said Bendoko, “has he started talking about ‘the Motherland’? Has he decided to wear a mangy?”
“Mongzhi.”
“Yeah. One of those.”
“No,” Tisha said. At least, she thought Gus still wore a sari. It had been a while since they had seen each other in street clothes. They hadn’t gone to a pool together since Redmonth.
“Well, as long as he’s not flashing his navel around, you know he’s still a Sliceharbor boy.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“But what?” Bendoko asked.
“But there’s something going on here, Ben. Something he’s not telling me.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Tisha said. It had something to do with that ruined temple they were visiting, but she didn’t know what.
“Have you asked him?”
“No,” Tisha admitted.
“Why not?”
“Because then it’s all over, Crane! Then he either tells me what’s going on, or he admits that he’s keeping secrets. And then …”
“And then what, Tisha?”
“And then I’ve lost my best friend.”
“Why?” Bendoko asked. “Can’t friends have secrets?”
“I don’t know,” Tisha said. “I suppose.”
“Maybe you’re right about him wanting some distance right now,” Bendoko said. “But does that mean he doesn’t love you?”
Love? That was a funny word coming from the Crane. It wasn’t the wrong word, though. She and Gusty did love each other, in a sister-brother kind of way.
“I don’t tell everything I know to people I care about,” Bendoko said. “Mostly because I care about them.”
“You’re an odd man, Bendoko.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “But maybe Gusty is feeling the same way right now. Maybe he trusts you but doesn’t trust himself. Or maybe he’s got some other reason for not telling you everything. Instead of worrying about whether he trusts you, maybe you need to ask yourself if you trust him.”
Tisha brushed a mosquito off his head. “Thanks, Ben.”
“Uh … what for?”
“For being my friend.”
“Uh … all right.”
He shot a glance at the path to the pool. Tisha followed his gaze. Gusty stood there. He’d come back early.
“The ambassador needs two divers to help her find something,” Gusty said. “Would you come?”
* * *
Ensign Shuver crouched in the ferns, watching the ambassador’s expedition tramp back up the trail. This time they had the two Children of Justice with them. He wondered what it was all about.
The first pair of blue feet were male, the second pair female. The four blue feet halted in Ensign Shuver’s window of vision.
Iris Daylight looked down into the water. “He will never find it,” she said. “And I am certain the water has already destroyed it.”
Gloria Sunrise smiled and asked, “Is that why you are so willing to talk about it in front of Gusty?”
Iris Daylight looked up, alarmed at the idea that Gusty might be intelligent enough to figure out she was talking about a copy of the Sun Scroll. She gave Gloria Sunrise a guilty look.
“Forgive me,” she said.
Gloria Sunrise smiled and shook her head. “You have done nothing wrong. The time has come for Gusty to know.”
She put her hand on Gusty’s armored shoulder and drew him back a few steps from the edge.
“Gusty Longbread,” she said, “when I first met you, you had been given a task – to find the Sun Scroll. I was given the same task by the Queen Matyu. One copy was held in the library of the Senatorial Palace, and I was well on my way to securing it when it was stolen.
“But there was a second copy. When the Mother Goddess revealed her secrets to Ruby Sunrise, Ruby wrote them down twice, precisely because she feared one copy could be lost. The second copy, the one we came here to find, was hidden beneath the floor tiles of her cell, on the sunward side of the temple.
“Matyu Iris now fears that copy has also been lost. But I believe it is right here. The Mother Goddess has led us here, you and me, and brought us together on the same mission. I am here because our people must have that scroll. And you are here to help me get it.”
Divine warmth filled Gusty’s lungs, and in that instant, he knew Gloria’s words were true. The Mother Goddess wanted this second scroll to be found. And she had guided him there for that reason.
“What is it?” Gloria Sunrise asked.
“I felt …”
“Did the Mother Goddess touch your soul?” Matyu Gloria asked.
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Then you have been blessed,” she said with satisfaction.
Gusty looked at her in wonder. “Is that what it feels like to be a matyu?”
“Yes,” she said. “On the best days.”
“So will he help us?” Iris Daylight asked.
“Of course,” Gusty said. “But …”
They waited for him to continue.
“Ambassador – Matyu Gloria – I can swim, but only a little. We don’t know how deeply the rubble is submerged.”
“The Mother Goddess would not give you this task were it beyond your abilities,” Matyu Gloria assured him.
Gusty would have liked for that to be true, but the brief touch of the Mother Goddess had left him. He was on his own again. He knew what the Mother Goddess wanted him to do, but he didn’t see how. The tea-dark water could be impossibly deep. Gusty, like all oranges, tended to float.
“Matyu Gloria, Tisha swims so much better than I do.”
“Your abilities will be enough,” Matyu Gloria said. “We need not share this with her.”
“We have already had one scroll stolen,” said Iris Daylight. “We must not let them know about the second.”
“Tisha would never steal a sacred scroll,” Gusty said.
“And what of her skinny friend?” asked Iris Daylight.
Well, Gusty couldn’t vouch for the Crane’s character, of course. And if they left him alone in the village, he’d probably sneak up the trail and spy on them. Maybe they could leave one of the Rock brothers with him.
But then Gusty realized something. The Crane wasn’t brave enough or stupid enough to steal the second scroll while two urbies were watching – at least, not if he wasn’t being paid. And besides, the Crane didn’t seem particularly happy about what had happened after he stole the first scroll.
“I won’t say we can trust him,” Gusty said. “But I don’t think he’d try to steal it for himself. In fact, I think he would be happier if he helped us find it.”
“That is out of consideration,” Iris Daylight said. “If the scroll can be found, we must find it ourselves. What if these natives find it and decide to destroy it?”
“Why would they do that?” Gusty asked.
“Did you know that the guide is misaligned? He serves nature spirits!”
Clever and Pious Rock exchanged concerned glances.
Gusty said, “It’s just a local religion common among … people like Bendoko. They don’t serve the deities, but they don’t commit sacrilege, either.”
This was true. Sliceharbor’s criminal class committed everything else, but usually not sacrilege.
“Will you not even try?” asked Matyu Gloria.
Gusty said, “Yes, I’ll try, Matyu. If that’s what you want. But I doubt I can dive much deeper than Pious and Clever. Has the Mother Goddess told you that I’m the only one who can find it? What if my job is helping you work with the people who can dive?”
Matyu Gloria considered this. Even Iris Daylight was considering.
“The deities made the nine peoples different so they could help each other,” Matyu Gloria said.
“But when you consider how little help we have received so far …” said Iris Daylight.
“Nevertheless, we will give them another chance to help us now,” Matyu Gloria said. “Gusty Longbread is right. I would never consider diving into that pit myself. Would you?”
“No,” said Iris Daylight.
“So we need to call upon the people who were created to be divers.”
“At least let Gusty Longbread try it first. He said he would. Give him one day. Or even two. Let us not call on the natives until we are certain Gusty cannot find it.”
“No,” said Matyu Gloria. “That would be a waste of time. And we must not waste more time. We have an enemy in the Senate. Perhaps more than one. The more time we spend here, the more we risk being discovered. We need to return to Sliceharbor before the natives notice we are missing.”
* * *
Coated in mud to conceal his skin and ward off mosquitoes, Ensign Shuver of the Republican Navy crept through the jungle parallel to the path. The ground was soft, and he couldn’t risk leaving a footprint. Only Children of the Sun had gone up the trail this morning, and his normal-sized track would stand out among the prints of their giant sandals.
Because the ambassador had left the two Children of Justice at the village inn, Ensign Shuver didn’t expect her to travel very far. And he was right. The thumping of the ground told him the Children of the Sun were coming back down the trail.
Ensign Shuver flattened himself against the ground, wriggling his mud-covered legs into the bracken. Though he knew the whites of his eyes might give him away, he kept his head up, watching the trail. This was his first chance to get a close look.
The one in front brushed through the ferns with a clattering hiss. Cane shin-guards. Of course. He was with the Urban Cohort. Shuver had noticed a strange indentation by his tracks sometimes. He now realized the impression had been left by the giant leaning on his paddle-club.
The next one moved like a cat. He didn’t have any armor – nor any weapons that Shuver could see – but he moved like a killer. He was male. Shuver could tell by the knees.
The next giant was a female. Fine leather-crafted sandals. She was probably the ambassador. Only rich people could afford leather. Poor people had to buy something that could be worn in the rain every day.
Next came the small-footed giant. She stopped, right where Shuver could get a good view of her orange ankles.
“I smell swamp mud,” she said.
Damn! Shuver thought. Damn the giants for their sense of smell, and damn me for forgetting about it.
His camouflage and insect protection had come from the marsh by the greathouse. Of course he smelled out of place. If the sniffing giant bent down and poked her head into the bracken, he was sunk.
The woman ahead of her said, “We are getting close to the lake, Matyu Iris.”
“Not that close,” said the woman with the small feet. She had leather sandals, too, but they weren’t as nice as the other’s.
“I have made up my mind,” the woman ahead called. “Accept that. And stop dragging your feet.”
“I am not dragging my feet,” she grumbled. She resumed walking down the trail.
The last giant said nothing. He, too, paused to sniff the air, but he did not linger.
They left behind a sharp odor that was said to repel insects. Amazing they could smell anything at all when they stank like that.
Ensign Shuver waited for his heart to stop pounding before backtracking them to find out where they had been.
* * *
Tisha awoke earlier than she would have liked, but well after everyone else had arisen and left the women’s quarters. She carefully rolled herself out of the hammock and managed to land on her feet.
Staying at an orange inn was like visiting a foreign country. Women and men had to sleep in separate rooms. No beds were available, only hammocks. And these were built for women much larger than Tisha.
But at least the hammock had been stable. Tisha hadn’t fallen out once.
Tisha studied the sleep marks the hammock had left on her grubby skin. She wanted a swim before she got dressed.
She looked at her weapons and armor sitting in a pile by the wall. No one would steal them. Well, Bendoko might, under other circumstances, but he probably wouldn’t steal them today.
Tisha checked her breastband and her loincloth to be sure everything was decently covered. Then she left the inn.
The village was awake with people working in gardens or hanging out laundry. A group of children – some of them as tall as Tisha – were chasing an escaped pig, trying to trap it against one of the wooden fences. Three old women watched the sport from benches by the well.
Their eyes turned to Tisha as she walked by. Maybe she should have gotten dressed. She had heard that jungle people were more casual about dressing to go swimming, but maybe that was only true of blue jungle people. Everyone here was dressed. She wished she’d brought a sari.
Tisha realized she saw no mongzhis. Maybe the Order of the Holy Shield really was on her side.
Sides. Is that what it was all about? Were there two sides in Sliceharbor now?
The path to the water was easy to find, and at the end of it she also found one of her saris – the yellow one she had loaned to Bendoko. He must be in the water somewhere.
A waterfall dropped five feet off a ledge and splashed into a round pool deep enough for bathing. From there, the stream meandered off into the darkness of the jungle.
Tisha slipped quietly into the water, submerged, and listened for sounds of Bendoko swimming. The splash of the waterfall was too noisy for her to hear anything.
Well, he wasn’t in the pool. It was so clear that she would have seen him. She gave a dolphin kick and undulated downstream.
The slow, cool water was deep enough for underwater swimming. Tisha settled in at crayfish depth and listened for Bendoko the Crane.
A wave pushed against her head. It wasn’t the reflection of her dolphin kick; it was a sudden, quick motion about thirty feet downstream. She was under the jungle canopy now, and her eyes had not adjusted to the shadows, but she could hear this wave perfectly well.
Tisha blew out her air and started breathing the water. Overhead, her air bubbles popped on the surface.
The body downstream jerked at the sound. Something burst out of the water and splashed its way onto the bank.
Tisha pushed her feet off the slimy stream bed and poked her head up to see what had made such commotion. It was Bendoko, sitting on the bank, backing away from her, wild-eyed.
“Tisha!” he gasped.
She expelled the water from her lungs and took in a breath of air so she could speak.
She asked, “Who did you think it was?”
“An alligator.”
“We’re only five hundred yards from the greathouse. The Order of the Holy Shield wouldn’t let alligators move into the village stream.”
“You never know,” Bendoko said. “Sometimes one even slips into Sliceharbor.”
“Well, I’m not an alligator,” she said.
She let the current carry her downstream toward him. “Come back in,” she said. “I’ll protect you.”
She had meant it as a joke, but he asked, “Are you wearing your alligator knife?”
“It’s called a ‘combat knife’,” Tisha said, “and I left it at the inn. I guess I’m a risk-taker.”
“Yeah,” said Bendoko, taking her seriously again.
“You coming back in, or you gonna lie there like mosquito bait?”
Bendoko slipped back into the water.
“Want to see what’s downstream?” Tisha asked.
“No, let’s go back to the pool,” Bendoko said. “I don’t want to swim where I can’t see.”
“You’d hear an alligator,” Tisha said, as she turned to go back with him. “They’re pretty big.”
“You ever seen one?” Bendoko asked. “A live one?”
“No. Have you?”
“No,” said Bendoko. “And I don’t want to.”
They walked on the bottom and pushed their way upstream. Bendoko didn’t drop his head into the water, so Tisha didn’t either. If he wanted to talk, she was happy to talk back.
“I guess we have the day to ourselves,” Bendoko said.
All right. She hadn’t really wanted to talk about that.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Sorry,” he said.
“For what, Ben?”
“For … whatever is making you sad.”
“I’m not sad, Ben.”
“Oh. All right.”
They reached the pool. Tisha ducked under and dove down to the rocky bottom. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at the ripples of light and the Crane’s water-treading legs.
She floated back up to him.
“Why do you think I’m sad?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Yesterday on the road … And then now when I mentioned … Is there trouble between you and Gusty?”
“No,” she said. “Gus and I get along fine.”
“All right,” he said.
A kingfisher landed on a nearby branch, scolded them for being in his pool, and flew away.
“You have any orange friends, Ben?”
“I don’t have any friends,” Bendoko said.
“Sander and Vernda like you all right.”
“Yeah, I like them, too.” He tipped his head back, so that only his mouth and nose were out of the water. “But they’re good people. Criminals can’t be friends with good people.”
“I guess you’re right,” Tisha said. But maybe he didn’t hear her. His ears were under water.
“I’m worried oranges and blues can’t be friends anymore, either,” Tisha said.
Bendoko popped his head up again. “Why do you say that?” He sounded almost defensive.
“This whole war thing. Not just the Sun Scroll, Ben. All of it.”
“But you and Gusty are friends. Right?”
“Yeah,” Tisha said. “We’re friends.”
“But what?”
“I didn’t say ‘but’.”
“All right,” he said.
They were friends. They were.
“I don’t know,” Tisha said. “Maybe he just needs space right now.”
“Space?”
“He seems to want distance from me.”
“Oh,” said Bendoko. “I thought the Bossy One ordered him to leave us behind.”
“Yeah,” Tisha said. “I guess.”
“Look,” said Bendoko, “has he started talking about ‘the Motherland’? Has he decided to wear a mangy?”
“Mongzhi.”
“Yeah. One of those.”
“No,” Tisha said. At least, she thought Gus still wore a sari. It had been a while since they had seen each other in street clothes. They hadn’t gone to a pool together since Redmonth.
“Well, as long as he’s not flashing his navel around, you know he’s still a Sliceharbor boy.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“But what?” Bendoko asked.
“But there’s something going on here, Ben. Something he’s not telling me.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Tisha said. It had something to do with that ruined temple they were visiting, but she didn’t know what.
“Have you asked him?”
“No,” Tisha admitted.
“Why not?”
“Because then it’s all over, Crane! Then he either tells me what’s going on, or he admits that he’s keeping secrets. And then …”
“And then what, Tisha?”
“And then I’ve lost my best friend.”
“Why?” Bendoko asked. “Can’t friends have secrets?”
“I don’t know,” Tisha said. “I suppose.”
“Maybe you’re right about him wanting some distance right now,” Bendoko said. “But does that mean he doesn’t love you?”
Love? That was a funny word coming from the Crane. It wasn’t the wrong word, though. She and Gusty did love each other, in a sister-brother kind of way.
“I don’t tell everything I know to people I care about,” Bendoko said. “Mostly because I care about them.”
“You’re an odd man, Bendoko.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “But maybe Gusty is feeling the same way right now. Maybe he trusts you but doesn’t trust himself. Or maybe he’s got some other reason for not telling you everything. Instead of worrying about whether he trusts you, maybe you need to ask yourself if you trust him.”
Tisha brushed a mosquito off his head. “Thanks, Ben.”
“Uh … what for?”
“For being my friend.”
“Uh … all right.”
He shot a glance at the path to the pool. Tisha followed his gaze. Gusty stood there. He’d come back early.
“The ambassador needs two divers to help her find something,” Gusty said. “Would you come?”
* * *
Ensign Shuver crouched in the ferns, watching the ambassador’s expedition tramp back up the trail. This time they had the two Children of Justice with them. He wondered what it was all about.
The first pair of blue feet were male, the second pair female. The four blue feet halted in Ensign Shuver’s window of vision.
