Bullets and bones, p.4
Bullets and Bones, page 4
part #2 of Desa Kincaid Series
Tommy slouched in his chair, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. A groan escaped him despite his efforts to restrain it. “Just like all the others,” he lamented. “So far, we haven’t found anything that we couldn’t learn from Mrs. Kincaid.”
Miri chuckled.
Sometimes Tommy still slipped into his habit of referring to Desa with a formal title. Well, he had been raised to be polite, and that was all there was to it.
Snuggling up, Miri closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. “So, what exactly are you looking for?” she murmured. “If you’re thinking about continuing your studies without Desa’s tutelage, I would advise against it. You’re not that advanced yet.”
“I’m looking for some indication of what might have happened in that ancient city,” Tommy replied. “From what Desa told us, Bendarian spoke of another force, an antithesis to the Ether, you might say.”
“And you think my ancestors knew something of this other force?”
Clamping a hand over his mouth, Tommy tapped his cheek with one finger. “If anyone did,” he muttered into his palm, “it would have been the people who spent centuries learning everything there was to know about the Ether.”
The sound of footsteps made him tense up – and he couldn’t suppress a moment of elation at the realization that he was becoming more observant – but it had no effect on Miri. No doubt she heard them as clearly as he had, but from what he understood of the Ka’adri, Miri was something of a spy. And he had seen first-hand that she could take care of herself. He shivered at the memory of those gray people in Thrasa.
A young man stepped out from between two stacks, a tall and handsome fellow with a coppery complexion and chestnut-brown hair that he wore parted in the middle. “I didn’t realize there was anyone back here,” he said. “I heard voices, and I thought it best to check.”
“You’re one of the librarians?” Tommy inquired.
“Indeed,” the young man replied. “Dalen Von Sasorin at your service.” He had a strong Aladri accent, a lilt even more pronounced than anything Tommy had heard from either Miri or Marcus. And of course, Desa must have lost her accent years ago.
Tommy rose from his chair and thrust out his hand. The other men took it after only a moment of hesitation and gave it a firm shake. “Thomas Smith,” he said. “I was hoping you could tell me where I might find some of your earliest texts on Field Binding.”
“Well, the earliest texts are nearly two thousand years old.”
“Do you have them here?”
Dalen eased himself into a chair, sitting with his hands on his thighs. He leaned forward and regarded Tommy for a very long moment. “We do,” he admitted almost reluctantly. “But they aren’t available to the public.”
“I have permission from the Prelate.”
“It won’t do any good,” Dalen said. “Even Daresina Nin Drialla can’t authorize access to those documents. It would take nothing less than the approval of the entire Synod.”
“And if the information that we need is in there?”
“What exactly are you trying to find?”
“Specifically, I want to know how your people discovered Field Binding.” He wasn’t sure what drew him to that subject; it was more of a hunch than anything else. But it seemed to him that when people were still learning the basic theory, they might be more willing to experiment. Something had alerted Bendarian to the presence of this other force. Which meant that it was possible to discover it using the same methods that one employed when communing with the Ether.
“Our people discovered Field Binding long before we ever came to Aladar,” Dalen said. “Records from that time are spotty at best.”
“All right,” Tommy said. “What about holy books?”
He noticed Miri watching him with avid fascination. He wasn’t sure what it was about a simple information inquiry that had her so enraptured, but it made him blush.
“Holy books?” Dalen asked.
With a heavy sigh, Tommy shuffled over to the window. He turned his face up to it, allowing the warm sunlight to fall upon his skin. “Your people have been practicing Field Binding for centuries,” he said. “It’s bound to have some religious significance.”
Dalen was nodding as if everything that had come out of Tommy’s mouth was just plain, common sense. “Of course!” he exclaimed. “We have many copies of the Tharan Vadria.”
“Excellent,” Tommy said. “Let’s start with that.”
“That one,” Desa said, pointing to a bracelet on a blue cushion. It was nothing fancy. Just a thin band of steel or iron; she couldn’t tell which by sight alone. But it was cheap, and that was what mattered.
This jeweler’s shop in Aladar’s eastern quarter was blessedly cool. A welcome reprieve after over an hour of walking in the hot sun. The walls were painted a soft blue, and there were display cases positioned along every one. One contained rings of gold, each marked by an emerald or ruby or some other stone. Another contained necklaces forged from other precious metals. Some silver, some gold. Desa wanted another necklace, but she would not waste money on anything ornate.
The jeweler, a bald man with a face darkened by stubble, looked up to favour her with a quizzical stare. “That one, ma’am?” he asked. “It’s not a quality piece. I’m sure I can find something better that is still within your price range.”
Desa wore tan pants and a blue shirt that she left untucked, its buttons done up all the way to her neck. Her bob of short, brown hair was a mess. With her accent at least five years gone, there was nothing to mark her as Aladri.
That was why it must have been a shock to the man when Desa lifted her hand and pulsed the Light-Source in her ring. “It’s metal, and it’s cheap,” she said. “That’s all I need.”
“Say no more, ma’am. I can offer you a Field Binder’s discount.”
“Field Binder’s discount,” Kalia murmured behind her.
Desa felt her lips curl into a small smile. She bowed her head to the shopkeeper. “That won’t be necessary, sir.” Her talents had not been employed in the service of Aladar for over a decade. She had no right the boons that came from such service.
The jeweler clasped his hands together behind his back and then offered a shallow bow. “As you say, ma’am,” he replied. “Is there anything else you might like?”
“Do you have another bracelet like that one?”
“Several more, ma’am.”
Desa twisted around to find Kalia standing in the middle of the shop with her eyes about ready to fall out of their sockets. The other woman was transfixed by the wealth that surrounded her. “Then I will take one for my friend as well,” Desa said.
“Very good, ma’am.”
By the time they had finished, Desa had purchased an iron necklace and several more rings as well. She had to pay for it all with Aladri currency that she had borrowed from Marcus. Knowing him, he wouldn’t come to collect any time soon. In fact, he might forget the debt entirely, but it still irked her. Her own coins had melted when that strange entity took possession of Adele. As had every other piece of metal on her person. And besides, foreign money wouldn’t be worth much here.
When they were back out on the street, the hot sun assaulted her. It was a muggy afternoon, and the heat was oppressive. She felt sweat plastering her shirt to her back.
The street they were on ran down a gentle slope toward the rippling waters of the ocean. From the top of the hill, Desa could see all the way to the eastern horizon. There were only a few clouds in the sky.
They walked in silence for a time, passing a small market where men and women sold fish that had come in on boats that went out this morning. Many of them kept their wares cool with Heat-Sinks provided by Field Binders.
The docks were mostly empty, but there were a few metal ships in the harbour. Kalia gasped at the sight of those and muttered a prayer to her Almighty. Desa chuckled but made no comment. Gulls swooped low over the water, some scooping up small fish.
Being here brought back memories and emotions that Desa had buried long ago. She was thirty, but the sights and sounds of Aladar made her feel like an adolescent girl again. And that let her ignore the heaviness in her heart for a few minutes.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Kalia said.
Desa stood on the dock with her fists clenched, a salty breeze ruffling her hair. “I trusted her,” she growled. “Even when every instinct told me not to, I gave Adele the benefit of the doubt. How is it not my fault?”
“Why did you do that?”
A tear slid down Desa’s cheek as she gazed out on the water. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I suppose it’s because I believe we all deserve a chance to prove ourselves. And maybe I was feeling guilty for killing Sebastian.”
Kalia made very little noise as she stepped up beside Desa. The woman wore a thoughtful frown as she gazed out on the ocean. “Is it at all possible that you trusted Adele because you were in love with her?”
“Oh, that was part of it,” Desa agreed. “But it was infatuation more than love. Perhaps, if things had gone differently, it could have blossomed into something more. But when I look within my heart, I find that I never really felt safe with Adele. There was always a part of me that insisted on keeping my guard up. I should have listened to that part of me.”
Kalia put a hand on Desa’s arm. “If you ask me, this is something we do far too often,” she said. “When someone betrays us, we blame ourselves for trusting them in the first place. In doing so, we imply that it’s better to not trust. And I don’t want to live in a world where trust is foolish.”
Desa couldn’t suppress her small smile or the blush that singed her cheeks. “You’ve thought a lot about this,” she said. “The sheriff philosopher.”
“I live in a small trading outpost in the middle of the desert,” Kalia replied. “There’s not a lot to do.”
“Well, then let me show you a city full of activity.”
It had been years since Miri last read the Tharan Vadria – she wasn’t exactly a religious person – and flipping through those pages brought up some childhood memories she would rather not think about. The clerics had always considered her to be a most unteachable student. She wasn’t sure what Tommy hoped to find in her people’s holy text, but she had come to realize that he had a shrewd mind. So, she would help if she could.
Miri stood between two long bookshelves with a leather-bound copy of the text in hand, frowning as she read through it. “Here’s something,” she murmured. “The story of Len and the Great March.”
Her words fell on deaf ears.
At the end of the corridor that ran between the bookshelves, Tommy and Dalen sat in two wooden chairs, facing one another. A massive window spilled light into the room, leaving both men as little more than silhouettes to Miri’s eyes. “No, no, no,” Dalen insisted. “The text is quite clear. It was Mercy who led our people north through the jungle.”
“Yes,” Tommy replied. “I’m aware of what the text says. But my question remains. How would a primitive man, someone for whom a simple spear is a marvel of technology, distinguish between a god and a powerful Field Binder?”
Dalen sat forward with his elbow on his thigh, resting his chin on the knuckles of his closed fist. “I would have loved to have had you in the university,” he said. “You’d give Professor Loran a challenge.”
“My question?” Tommy pressed.
“Well, if you’re taking the text as literal history,” Dalen began, “that’s probably a mistake. Most scholars agree that the Tharan Vadria was never intended to be a historical record.”
It seemed silly, but Miri couldn’t ignore the little flutter in her belly. Those two had been wrapped in serious discussion for the better part of an hour. There were moments when it seemed as if both men had completely forgotten her presence. She found herself presented with the uncomfortable revelation that she might just be falling in love with Tommy. Not a simple infatuation, but a real connection. For the first time in a very long time, she felt jealousy, and she didn’t like it one bit.
She tried to put the thought out of her mind. They would not be staying in Aladar very long, and it was very unlikely that Dalen would come with them. In a week, she would have Tommy to herself again. That should have been comforting; so, why did it leave her feeling empty inside?
Miri marched through the space between the shelves, approaching the two of them and thrusting her book at Tommy. He flinched, recoiling as if he thought she might smack him with it. “Len and the Great March,” she said. “He offers some very vivid descriptions of Mercy.”
Tommy stared at her, his face as pale as snow. Eventually, he forced his eyes shut and gave his head a shake. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “I’m sure that will be helpful.”
Miri dropped the book in his lap, and that made him jump.
Without another word, she turned and stomped out of the room. There was little she could do here anyway.
4
In the ten years since Desa had left the city, her mother had moved to a small apartment building. The hallway outside her door had white walls and a wooden floor that creaked at the slightest touch.
Desa stood in that corridor with one hand on the wall, frowning down at her own feet. “Hello, Mama,” she murmured to herself. “I know I’ve been gone for a long time, but I had to stop Bendarian…”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Desa trembled. “No matter how many times you rehearse it,” she hissed, “it’s never going to sound right.”
She slumped against the wall, air rushing from her lungs, and brushed a lock of damp hair off her forehead. “Best to just get it over with.” Her stomach was tied up in knots, and she could feel her heart pounding.
Desa knocked on the thick, wooden door.
A moment later, it swung inward to reveal an olive-skinned woman who wore her gray-streaked hair tied back in a bun. Leean Nin Alora had changed since the last time Desa saw her. Her face had a few more wrinkles; her eyes looked tired, and she wore a thin pair of glasses. “Desa?” she exclaimed.
Quick as a bolt of lightning, she rushed out the door and threw her arms around her daughter. “It’s so good to see you!” She stepped back with her hands on Desa’s shoulders and smiled beatifically. “I’ve heard so much!”
Tears welled up, blurring Desa’s vision. She sniffled and shook her head. “I’m sure much of it was exaggerated.”
“Well, you’ll have to tell me everything!” Leean insisted.
“Mama, I’m so sorry-”
“Not a word of that,” Leean said sharply. “This is a happy day. Come in! Come in! Let me show you my new home.”
It was a modest-sized apartment with hardwood floors and pale-green walls. A small, round table sat in the light of a rectangular window. On the far side of the living room, a narrow doorway led into the kitchen.
Leean’s old rocking chair was in the corner with an open book waiting on the adjacent table. Desa remembered that chair all too well. When she was a little girl, she would sit in her mother’s lap while Leean read her a story and rocked her to sleep. So much had changed, and yet so much was still the same.
Desa strolled across the room, blinking slowly as she took it all in. “How long have you lived here?” It was the only question she could think to ask, and it sounded feeble to her ears. It was the sort of thing she should have known, would have known if she had not left on her adventure.
“About two years,” Leean said behind her.
Approaching the wall with her arms folded, Desa nodded. “I suppose you wouldn’t need that much space,” she said. “With me gone…”
When she turned around, her mother was standing in the middle of the room and smiling. For reasons that she couldn’t even begin to explain, Leean’s gentle laughter eased some of the tension.
“I’m sorry, Mama.” Desa knew that her mother didn’t want an apology, but one came tumbling out of her mouth anyway. For years, she had tried not to think about how her decision to leave might have affected the people she loved most. She justified that by reminding herself that if she let the guilt claim her, she would never catch Bendarian. Now, she was back, and there was no denying her remorse any longer. “I never meant to leave you alone for so long.”
Leean waved her concerns away. “You did what those idiots in the Synod refused to do,” she said. “‘The problems of others are not ours to solve.’ Radharal Bendarian escaped their leash, but since he was gone, he was no longer a priority. The rest of the world could burn so long as Aladar was safe.”
“Well, they had the luxury of such apathy,” Desa grumbled. “They didn’t make him into the monster that he was.”
Leean nodded.
A moment of silence passed between mother and daughter, a moment in which Desa had to struggle to prevent all of her anxieties from spilling out of her mouth. Guilt or no guilt, this was a happy day; she had no intention of ruining it.
Finally, Leean seated herself in the rocking chair with skirts arranged neatly and hands folded in her lap. “Past tense,” she said. “I take it then that Bendarian is no more.”
“That is a difficult question.”
Leean raised an eyebrow.
With some reluctance, Desa told the story of the final adventure that had brought her back to Aladar. She began with her visit to Sorla, rescuing Tommy and Sebastian and the trip south to Ofalla. After that, the dam burst. She couldn’t have held anything back even if she had wanted to. She told her mother everything: Adele, the ancient city, her battle in the pyramid. By the end, she was crying.
Desa more than half expected condemnation from her mother, but Leean only stood up and wrapped her up in a warm hug. “My poor girl,” she whispered. “You’ve carried this all for too long.”
“I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too.”
They stayed like that for a little while. Desa allowed her mother to just hold her. She felt like a girl again, which was embarrassing and comforting at the same time. Somehow, Leean sensed her chagrin and started laughing.
