Chapter Twenty-Two

[cityofthehand]

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Chapter Twenty-Two


Maira did not realize she fell asleep on the cushion in the sitting room until she woke. Until that moment, she noticed no transition between sitting in a warm shaft of sunlight that streamed through the window at her back and dreaming of Fairmorn in a garden.

In that dream, she recognized Fairmorn as a dear friend she had known a long time and knew things about zir she couldn’t have known: zir favorite food, that zie was fifth gender in Asna’isi reckoning, and that zie was no agent. In the dream she met this not-agent, this friend in a garden that she knew well. Each row of flower or herbs or ornamental trees gave up a name and a history to her mind. Her hands recalled the feel of soil at their roots and knew the time of their planting. The smell of sugary sweet nectar of buds racing to blossom reached her and she brushed green tendrils, knowing which were her own and which were weed.

She walked paths with impossible familiarity and in a little alcove, under the lush dark green leaves of an orange fruit tree dotted with white blossoms, Fairmorn sat on a bench wearing a plain pale blue robe and comfortable slippers. Zie held a book in zir lap and, and at a glance, Maira laughed at the notion of zir as an agent.

“Really, armor? You’re not an agent. What were you thinking going out like that?” she asked to announce her presence, laughing and looking down, suddenly finding herself clinging to a high branch of a tree that was much taller and stronger, looking down on zir like a kind of predator.

Zie looked up with a smile. “I never miss the chance to impress a graceful one.” Zie spoke Asna and Maira knew this because she understood ‘graceful one’ with the literal, instinctive understanding of a native speaker. It had no real Domainish equivalent, but represented a neutral, earned honorific. She gave no thought to this strangeness. She dreamed in Asna now as she had dreamed in Domainish all her life with smatterings of Pahali or High Domainish or the odd Dhatan curse word.

“What graceful one did you see out there? It certainly wasn’t me.”

Fairmorn tsk tsked her, with mild disappointment and instantly they sat together on a bench, facing each other and so close their knees touched. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You shouldn’t be so modest you know. You’re a high graceful one. You have no reason not to acknowledge it.”
“And you’re changing the subject. I know how sneaky you are.”

“All right, I’ll tell you, but it has to be a secret between us.”

Maira laughed and clapped her hands in delight. Fairmorn warm, close body wiggled closer and zir brilliant, silvery wings folded around them for privacy, to show possession sometimes like like a human putting an arm around someone. She understood it as she understood the words and the garden and Fairmorn and a startled thought fell on her. She suddenly clutched Fairmorn’s arm and in alarm struggled to speak Graymere’s name but found all ability to speak or scream lost.

A sudden panic washed over her and the certainty that something had come to disaster gripped her. She gasped and Fairmorn did not response, still smiling as zie leaned to whisper the secret in her ear while looking around for any unwanted eavesdroppers. Maira wanted to listen but couldn’t focus through the fear. Wrong, wrong, all so wrong. She shut her eyes and clutched Fairmorn tighter.

Then Fairmorn’s voice changed and zie suddenly spoke loudly, in Domainish and right in Maira’s ear. She pulled back in the dream and fell off the bench. The tipping over sensation shocked her entire being. She squealed and reached out blindly to catch herself.

Her own squeal woke her up and jolted her body into instant wakefulness. She blinked hard and did not recognize the face dominating her entire view for several terrifying moments. She squirmed in their grasp until her eyes focused and her mind provided a name: Naran.

Then she realized that she held onto him so tightly it probably hurt him. Immediately she let go, got to her feet and looked around. The darkened room looked nothing like the one she’d been lead to and the window outside showed a nighttime scene, not a daytime one.

She blinked to clear her gummy, blurry eyes and recognized enough of the furniture and, of course, Naran to realize she hadn’t been moved. Time, not space, had changed. She blinked again and wiped away remnant tears. Something made her eyes water in her sleep and clogged her throat terribly. Had someone lit too strong insence or something?

“What time is it?” she asked.

“It’s hour after sunset,” Naran replied. “Are you all right?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Damn, why’d you let me sleep so long?” she mumbled. Yena and Kei-zi had long since gone, judging by the empty room.

“You needed the rest,” Graymere said from the open door. She turned to him and could not make out his face in the darkness. His voice identified him perfectly and she would know those wings until the day she died. “Lord Shadow was willing to wait.” Maira wasn’t sure how to respond to a Tract lord waiting while she napped.

“So was I,” Naran said with a quick smile. “They have a fabulous library here. Anything you could want.” Maira spotted a very thick, closed book on the table in the middle of the room with a ribbon marker very near the back cover.

“Yena and Kei-zi?” she asked.

“They had to go, they had other things to deal with,” Naran answered. “Are you all right?”

“Why do you keep asking that? My leg’s fine.”

“He meant the dream you were having. It must have been very upsetting,” Graymere explained.

She tried to remember the dream and couldn’t conjure up more in her mind than a vague impression that it had not been a nightmare. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“You wept in your sleep.”

“Did I?”

“And you called my name.”

“Oh. Um, sorry, I suppose.”

“You need not apologize,” he assured her.


He turned and gestured for her to follow. She did, and Naran came to her side to walk with her. They left the apartment and went to the large meeting room up the stairs. The doors opened on their own and revealed Shadow sitting at an enormous round darkwood table with a near panoramic skyline view of his Tract and the river at his back.

He stood when they entered and gestured to the seat on his left as he caught Maira’s eyes. Graymere sat at his right. Naran took the seat next to her.

“You are rested now?” he asked, politely.

“You didn’t have to wait.”

“It was no matter,” he said with a slight dismissive wave of his hand as if he could sweep anything away so easily. He leaned forward and turned his body slightly towards her. “Tell me now why did you not come with Graymere when you were asked? You made a promise to me.”

“I promised to come back when I finished what I had to do. I haven’t done that yet,” she corrected as mildly as she could. “I couldn’t leave Naran and Lieutenant Tutenga. If somebody got them it would stop me doing what I have to do.”

“Is this message so difficult to deliver?” he asked.

More than you know, she thought as she met his eyes. For all the courtesy he showed now, the idea of the device in his hands set loose a shivering terror throughout her body. “I don’t want to break my promise, but I have to do this.”

“And if you are killed, what is my recourse then? It is obvious you are not safe and probability does not favor your survival. This is unacceptable.”

“Why? What do you want?”

“Unfortunately, now is not the appropriate moment to conduct that business.”

Maira gaped and curled her fingers into fists as if they might fly off on their own if left unrestrained. She might have slapped him if she thought he wouldn’t just catch her arm long before the blow landed. “Why?”

“The time will come for explanations. For now you must be kept safe. Is there anyone else who could assume this responsibility from you?”

“I myself would gladly take the burden from you,” Graymere said. “Or perhaps Mr. al-Shahd would.”

“No. It has to be me.”

“Why?”

“Because it does. Please don’t ask anymore.”

He nodded once and looked to Graymere for a moment. “If I cannot dissuade you, then I will take further measures to ensure your well being.”

Maira instantly envisioned more dead agents and shook her head. “Don’t. You’re just going to get your people killed. You weren’t there today, you didn’t see how bad it was. Fairmorn -” she curled her lips in. Zir name bit at her heart harder than expected. She put her hand on the cool, lacquered surface of the table and an vivid, unbidden image sprang into mind of a similar cool, smooth surface: a bench underneath her hand as she sat on it.

Sadness flashed in Shadow’s downturned mouth and narrowed eyes. “You knew Fairmorn by name?”

She nodded. “After we fell I tried to keep zir talking…” She paused to grit her teeth and force her tears not to come. She refused to weep now.

“Fairmorn was willing.”

“I don’t care. You can’t waste people’s lives like that.”

“I have never wasted the lives of those who in my commanding. Understand that. I sacrifice only when defeat is more perilous than death, but I never waste.”

She frowned and looked away quickly suddenly aware she’d been watching the pale irises of his eyes as though she were an equal. No wonder he took the statement as a challenge and answered so harshly. “Yes, of course. But I just don’t see -”

“I know you do not and I do not care for the time being. If you must continue this task, then I will take you into the dominion of my sign.” She opened her mouth to protest and he gave a single glare. She pressed her lips together. “This will give me the right to protect you even beyond the borders of this Tract. No one may interfere with you without my permission and any that try will offend me so that I cannot allow them to live. Nor may any other Lord, nor the Council, nor any of those belonging to them give the offender refuge or aid. Do you understand?”

“That you want to own me like a slave? Yes, I do! That’s your idea of protecting? I might as well go back to the workhouse!” she scoffed. The old chain rot scars itched. She scratched hard at them. The workmasters told them the same things, convincing all the children they’d be beaten, raped, and killed within a day without protection.

“No,” he said quickly. He reached out and put his enormous hand over hers, covering it completely. She froze and dared not yank away for fear of provoking him. “To belong to me is not to become my possession. Even marked, you would be free to do as you wanted.”

“Even if you didn’t want me to?”

“I would do my best to persuade you otherwise, but your choices would be your own as they have always been.”

“If I say no?”

“Then my conscience would not permit me to let you leave this Tract. It would be akin to suicide for you.”

Naran touched her shoulder. “You should let him do it, Maira.”

“I do not believe Lord Shadow requires your assistance in this, Mr. al-Shahd,” Graymere said and for all the silken smoothness his words bore a slapping sharpness.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Naran replied with a toothy, dangerous ‘fuck you’ smile.

Maira glared angrily at both. She didn’t know what had them acting like hissing cats but she didn’t care. “After I finish what I have to do will you take it off?”

“If that is your wish I will honor it,” he answered and lifted his hand.
Maira looked to Naran and then to her hands on the table. The old scars itched and she did not dare touch her chest though she swore she felt a tightness there from the device. It’s just for now, until this is over, she told herself as she shut her eyes and let out a long breath. “All right. I’ll do it,” she agreed.

“Thank you,” Shadow replied with such softness and earnestness that Maira’s eyes flew open. He gave a single nod and raised his hand. The servant at the door left quickly and returned several moments later with another who held a carefully balanced silver tray in both hands. They put the tray and a white folded cloth before their lord and left the room after giving deep bows. The heavy laden tray bore small wooden bowls filled with fine grained sand in different shades of blue, an empty cast iron bowl, three sticks of incense laid in wooden holders and a black lacquered box inlaid with a silver Asna character. She saw no sharp instruments or devices that might give her pain. That much came as a relief.

“This will not hurt,” he said as he opened the box and removed a glittering blue gem the size of a cat’s eye. Even in lamplight it sparkled brilliantly. He offered her the jewel, saying, “Hold this in your hands.” She carefully cupped it in her hands and held it closely.

Setting the box aside, Shadow turned to the bowls and emptied some sand from each into the cast iron one. He passed a hand over it and bright blue flame rose up, setting the sand alight. Opaque white smoke smelling of the air just before the breaking of a storm curled upward like ghost tendrils. He lit each incense stick and put them in their holders in front of her.

“Breathe deeply,” he instructed.

Obediently, Maira leaned forward and inhaled with an open mouth. Scents mingled in her nose and throat and mouth - a mix of icy coldness, summer’s rain on hot stones, dry, sun scorched heat. The smell snapped her mind into the memory of flight. For a moment she found herself back in Graymere’s harness as she soared, happy and shivering despite all that had happened.

The jewel pulsed bright enough to be seen through her eyelids. She opened her eyes and uncurled her fingers to see it. It glowed brilliant, flickering as Shadow passed his hand over the flame again. The fire died and left only dark blue-gray soot in the bowl. He put his hands into it and rubbed them together until it covered his palms and fingers.

“Stay still,” he instructed and reached out very slowly to take her face in his ash covered hands. His thumbs pressed lightly beneath her eyes and the gentle pressure of his touch set her skin tingling from crown to toe. She breathed slowly and carefully with reverent trepidation as she locked onto the center of his eyes. Some fragile, vital thing now lay between them and she feared to break it.

Suddenly his magnificent black wings shot out to full extension, missing Graymere by inches. He leaned further in until their foreheads touched and his cool skin met the flushed heat of hers. He shut his eyes and inhaled hard with mouth wide open. The air in Maira’s lungs obeyed as if pulled by an invisible hand. She jerked hard against the loss of air but he held her like iron.

Black wings closed around her and took her into a dark, empty place where whispers and images flew around her too fast to catch or understand. Robbed of breath she could not plead to be allowed breath again.

Shadow’s broad voice sliced through the intensifying chaos in her head, I am not hurting you, do not be afraid. The words came wrapped in tangible tenderness and aching, intimate sorrow with the feel of a well worn stone in a river. Around her the pure darkness congealed into a stormy sky dominated by a maelstrom. The forced pulled her like it pulled her breath. Whipping wings stung her with sensations of pain, loneliness, fury and despair. Each wave brought new and troubled feelings. She stared into the storm and instantly understood that it was no storm but a heart and a broken one at that.

Not her own. Shadow’s.

Instead of retreating when borrowed sadness took her she focused on the storm and imagined herself flying straight into the center of the turbulence and wrapping her arms physically and bodily around it, pulsing comfort the way the jewel in her hand pulsed light.

Oh, my brightness, he called out from the center of the tempest as his pain peaked into a sharp point. The maelstrom enveloped her and she clung even tighter, refusing to let go until the pain stopped.

Shadow’s mind pushed her away and he breathed air into her throat and chest. The flood of mental sensation receded. Empty and weightless she hung in mid air until his wings drew back and let in the light. Even the lamps blinded her with obscene brightness.

“Now you are marked,” Shadow said and slowly pulled back. The unnameable thing between them dissolved and left her too stunned to speak. “The gem,” he said.

Maira opened her hands again. The blue jewel had gone dull. She offered it back to him with her eyes turned away out of respect. Once he took it she inspected the circles with swirling symbols and stylized pairs of wings that marked the palms and backs of her hands.

“There is another on your face and on your back,” he informed her.

Maira touched her face but didn’t feel any bumps or textures out of place. Her fingertips touched only skin and the wet streaks of tears. She resisted the urge to reach behind her and under her shirt. “Is it done?” she asked, quietly giving a sniffle.

“It is done,” he confirmed as he wiped his hands on the white cloth. “Once you are finished with your task, whatever it is, you will come to me. Will you honor this agreement?”

“Yes.”

He stood, and put the cloth on the tray. “My agents will continue to keep watch. You may come here freely now. You need not ask or wait. Merely show your marks and all here will know to allow you passage or bring you to me should you be unable to answer for yourself. You may leave if you must. Prime Graymere will take you wherever you please.”

The solid, emotionless formality of his voice left her wondering if she had only imagined what happened between them. He did not even look back as he left.

“He honors you far more than you realize,” Graymere said quietly but pointedly after the door closed. Maira raised her head. “Lords are limited in what they can keep in the dominion of their sign. This publicly proclaims his esteem for you. Many would say it shames him to mark someone like you. He will be criticized greatly for it.” The words burned. Maira rose from her chair with a huff. Graymere also stood and spoke before she could. “However, you and I know that it is a sad truth that the world is filled with very ignorant people. Otherwise they would know better.”

Maira let out a great, weary breath. “This is getting ridiculous. Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on? It would it a lot easier.”

“I know,” he said, inclining his head. “Do you wish to leave now?”

With nothing more to say, she told him she wanted to go back to the safehouse. He obliged and took her to the tower’s top. He harnessed her close to his body and soared through the chill night air to the safehouse. She closed her eyes and memorized the scent of the cold night air and the feel of flight. Each lungful only reminded her further of Shadow and the storm that lived in his heart. She wondered if any, even Graymere, knew it was there.

When they came to the safehouse, Graymere made an impressively clean landing in the dark. Maira craned her neck around to see Naran and the agent carrying him land as well. The agent did not pull wings around him as Graymere did around her. She leaned back against him, tilting her to the side so that she could crane her neck back without hitting his face. She cast her eyes up at his spotted feathers.

“Why do you always do that?” she asked pointing to his feathers.

He paused with a hand on her shoulder. “It is…merely an unthinking gesture,” he said, hesitantly. She blinked, startled at the first instance of any uncertainty she’d ever heard from him. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No. I just wondered.”

He made quick work of the harness and stepped back, lifting off with nothing more than a flap of his wings. He offered no parting courtesies and Maira realized then he never had. Yet even the agent carrying Naran offered a clipped ‘goodbye’ before joining Graymere.

“Come on, it’s freezing out here,” Naran said.

They went to the door and Maira smiled at the sight of two pairs of shoes - one of them sharp toed high heeled boots - on the mat. It meant Yena and Kei-zi waited inside for them. She and Naran shed their shoes and went inside. The smell of warmed, spiced fruit tea greeted them. Maira walked into the sitting room and found the two agents lounging and sharing a small pot between them.

Kei-zi gave her a stunned look the minute he saw her face. Even Yena paused with her cup half way to her lips.

“So that was his plan,” she said and finished taking her sip.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Maira said. She took the chair beside Kei-zi, fighting the need to run to the mirror in the washing room to inspect her face and back.

Naran sat by Yena. A protracted silence stretched, broken by Yena carefully putting her cup down and cautiously saying, “Maira. I think it’s time you gave us the device.”

“Why?”

“I spoke with Sister Matsuda today. We were correct. She brokered the meeting with Professor Decaran.”

Naran and Maira sat up straight at the same moment.

“So you know what the device is for, who he meant to give it to?” Naran asked.

“No. Sister Matsuda only brokered the meeting. She claimed to have no knowledge of the reason why and refused to divulge the identity of the person Decaran was meeting. We had no leverage to compel her. She’s fullblood Tsaqa, that puts beyond our authority unless she commits a crime in the Palm.”

Naran huffed and rubbed his face, making a scratchy sound as his hand went over the stubble on his face. “What did she tell you, then?”

“She confirmed she was the go-between and a contact of hers came to her weeks ago needing the name of a discreet sorcerer capable of handling a difficult problem. She recommended Decaran and agreed to pass messages between them to protect their identites. Her contact was very paranoid about that.”

“How could she not know what the device was for?” he asked.

“Through careful effort. She deliberately limited what she knew for her own safety. That’s why I want the device now. If we study it, we might be able to get a narrower focus and find out who comissioned it. We know who she associates with, but it’s a big list. She’s well connected.”

Immediately, Maira’s instincts rebelled and labeled the idea as bad. “I’m sorry, I can’t. What if something happens? The professor said to keep it secret for a reason. And if what Naran said about the ambergreen’s true, it could kill a lot of people. What if it was broken or stolen?”

“I promise, every precaution will be taken.”

“No. I’m keeping it. I’ll tell you anything else you want to know but it stays hidden, all right?” she said, getting up quickly. The urge to see her face grew irresistible despite her fears.

Yena stood up and blocked her exit. “Maira, wait. Please. Have you considered the danger to yourself?”

“I’m protected. See?” She raised her hands, then pointed at her face.

“The marks are a warning, not actual protection. It merely means he is obliged to avenge you and vengeance is useless. People have died to save you, Maira. Think about that.”

Maira scowled. You manipulative fucker, she thought and glanced at Kei-zi. He must have told his partner about Fairmorn. Hearing zir name and sacrifice used as a tool flushed Maira’s entire body with the heat of rage. She curled her healing hands into tight fists, drew herself up and set her jaw.

“Because I owe you for using your mother’s without asking I’m going to go into the washing room and forget you even said that. We’ll talk about what to do in the morning. Goodnight, captain.”

She did not wait for a response as she stomped to the wash room. She went straight for the faucet and pumped the pedal with her foot until water flowed. She stuck her head into the stream and stayed there, gritting her teeth, until the bitter cold water numbed her cheeks. Eventually the guilt of wasting clean water got to her and she stopped pumping but stayed bent. She breathed into the copper basin and willed her mind to empty itself.

“Maira?” Naran called from the other side of the door. When she didn’t answer the door creaked as he came in. He sat on the edge of the washing tub with his long, fine boned feet on the stool. He balanced like a cat on a perch.

“Not talking to me doesn’t work. I can talk enough for both of us. Don’t think I won’t,” he said, feigning dire seriousness. She giggled into the basin and it echoed back to her. “I thought you were going to punch Captain Lookinghard. You should’ve. She can’t punch you back. Not unless she wants to mess with Shadow. Now’s a great time to smack anybody you don’t like.”

She laughed again and raised her head. “Two days ago, that would’ve been you.”

“Yes, and I’m very grateful he waited until after we made up. If his Prime hadn’t held you back, I’d be looking a lot uglier than I already do.”

She made a ‘pfft’ sound at him and rolled her eyes at him with a smile. She’d been in his head enough to know that he damn well knew he was handsome and was deeply proud of that. For all his cleverness and deep strength, he had his foibles. Vanity among them. And of course, irrepressible wiseassery.

“He might still let me. What the fuck did you two do to piss each other off?, anyway?” she asked and went to the mirror to study the new marks. The multi-colored facial mark started with a small symbol on her forehead. Stylized whirls and a pair of wings ran down her cheeks to her jawline in shades of blue, black and white that sparkled in the light. “Gods above,” she muttered.

“Be careful of Lord Shadow, Maira. Don’t trust him.”

She turned around. “I wasn’t planning on it. Why?”

“I noticed something about his spell today. It might be nothing. I’m not an expert on Asna magics.”

“But?”

“But if I didn’t know better, I’d say those were there all along and his spell simply made them visible again.”

Immediately, Maira covered her forehead with her hand, eyes wide. “You mean they were there before? But how?”

Naran shrugged. “I could be very wrong. Asna magics work on different principles. I do know that most times, a stone like that is used to remove something, not place it there.” He left the basin and came to her, putting his hands gently on her arms. “What’s done is done and for the moment it’s helping you. I just thought you should know what I saw.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, turning her head to the side as if she could hide some of the mark. “I keep going over everything. I’m not stupid. The way he and Graymere and Fairmorn talk. It’s like they know me or I’m some long lost daughter. Sounds like something out of a cheap drama. Except I’m definitely not Rok.”

“What about your parents?” Naran asked.

She frowned, shrugged. “Don’t remember them. Most everything before the orphanhouse is gone. I think I remember a place with lots of trees. Maybe near the ward. I don’t know.”

“Oh, gods,” he mumured and came closer. “How young were you?”

“Young. The priestesses didn’t keep up with birthdays,” she said. Instantly, he took her into a tight embrace that stunned her with it’s suddeness. She stiffened for a moment and then loosened against his warmth and laid her head on his should. “Could you stay a little while with me? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Sure. You play sharps?” he asked.

“Only when I need money.” She smiled into his shoulder, then pulled back. “I don’t have any cards.”

He gave a wily grin. “I do.”

“Do you have everything in that coat?”

“I can take it off if you’re really that curious,” he replied and waggled his eyebrows to make the least subtle suggestion in the history of suggestions. She rolled her eyes at him and turned on a bare heel to go back to the sitting room, hoping that Yena and Kei-zi had left some tea for her.