Chapter Twenty-One

[cityofthehand]

<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>

---

Chapter Twenty-One



Lord Shadow himself waited on his tower’s top with his glorious black wings spread against the golden afternoon sun. Behind him, neat rows of agents in full livery and armor stood at attention and waited. His chin lifted, gaze turning upward as Graymere made his approach. Maira held tighter to the strong arms around her, shutting her eyes and preparing for the pain that would come when she lifted her legs for landing.

Though pain shot through her leg when she moved it, Graymere’s landing made minimal impact. He touched down easily and transfered his weight from wings to feet without her feeling it. On instinct, she leaned back to give him counterbalance against his forward motion and winced as she put her own feet down. She leaned on the good one and clenched her teeth through the first stabbing throbs of pain.

When Graymere reached for the harness strap she expected his wings to enfold them. They did not. This left her staring into Shadow’s direct gaze. She turned her head and looked down to avoid those burning, cold eyes.

“How badly is she injured?” he demanded as he approached them.

“Most of the blood is not hers, my lord,” Graymere answered. His hand lingered on her shoulder a half moment longer than it needed to. Her mind lagged in understanding the gesture as one of comfort. Only when his hand left did she comprehend its meaning.

Lord Shadow nodded at Graymere and said nothing more. He freed her from the harness quickly and she limped a few steps away and looked around for Naran and Kei-zi. Panic caught her breath in her throat until she spotted them being unharnessed from other agents, safe and unharmed. Graymere indicated for them to follow and Naran took her arm gently in hand to guide her. She limped along with him and glanced over to Kei-zi who gave her a nod that she returned though she wasn’t sure what it meant.

She looked down at her feet as they made the slow stair by stair descent into Lord Shadow’s private apartments. “I’m getting blood everywhere. I’ll stain the floor,” she mumbled, blinking at the dotted crimson trail she left in her wake.

“It can be cleaned,” Graymere said.

When they came to the apartment, servants moved around them like silent shadows, always looking to Graymere then looking away. He had only to nod or wave a hand light and they scattered as if given very explicit directions. She wondered if they spoke mind to mind or were simply that attuned to the will of their superiors. Maira had been that focused on her workmasters and what they wanted. She learned them well and knew what the slightest frown or flick of their gaze translated to.

She hoped that Graymere didn’t command attention the way her old workmasters had.
Naran tugged on her arm again and she went with him into the magnificent washing room with Graymere and two servants in tow.

“I need to get a better look at your leg,” he told her, pointing down at the gash in her leg. She looked at it as her mind moved slow, thoughts dulled with shock and grief. She could not quite figure out what he meant for her to do in response to that statements. After a few moments he coughed into his hand. “I need you to take your trousers off so I can see it.”

Maira looked up. “Do I have to?” she asked. She swallowed against a soreness in her throat. “There’s a lot of people watching.”

Graymere said merely, “A robe.”

A servant rushed out the door and returned within moments with a thick cloth robe. The servant brought it to Maira and held it out to her as though it would be no trouble to stand, waiting, for hours until it pleased her to take it. She looked the servant in the face and recognized them.

“You were here last time,” Maira said. “Did you tell me your name? I don’t remember it.”
“Yes, high-grace person. I call by Windturn,” the servant replied, and Maira and took the robe. Windturn nodded and bowed and walked backwards to stand by the other servant. There they watched. All of them watched and waited.

“Please turn around,” she said and clutched the robe like it might shield her. “I don’t want to be watched.”

Without comment or argument, Graymere twirled a finger in the air just onc. Everyone, even Naran, turned their backs to let her slip off her pants. The fabric peeled away slowly and with stinging pain because the blood glued it in place. With the trousers off she quickly wrapped herself in the robe and tied it tightly around her waist. Then she let them know it was all right to turn again. The servants immediately came and made motions to take the clothes from her.

“They will bring you new ones,” Graymere assured her and so she let Windturn and the other servant take her pants, stockings, and boots. All the while she considered that she could not flee so quickly when wearing only a robe. The servants left and she breathed easier.

Naran told her to sit and pointed at the wood bench in front of a little table and a mounted round wall mirror. She slowly let herself down on it and straightened her wounded leg for him, pulling the robe aside. The gash looked worse than she expected and ran from knee to hip, exposing the ugly meat of skin and muscle underneath.

He crouched down next to her and looked it over. “This is very deep.”

“If it is beyond your capabilities, I can summon any number of talented healers to tend the wound. It will be no great matter for them,” Graymere said, sharply and coldly. Even she heard the clear challenge to Naran’s ability.

Naran gave a quiet, flat chuckle that held absolutely no mirth.“Oh, believe me, it would take a lot more than this to be a challenge.”

“Then you could’ve helped Fairmorn?” she asked, quietly. “If you’d gotten there in time.”
“No,” Graymere and Naran both said. Naran turned and glared hard under his brows at Graymere. He explained, turning back to her, “My magic only really works with humans and Rok.”

“All Asna’isi practitioners are, of course, are trained in interracial magics as part of their regular studies,” Graymere said, crossing his arms.

“Which I suppose you came first in.”

“I did not limit my studies merely to healing or sorcery, but yes, I did achieve top marks in those courses.”

Naran gave that eerie, dull chuckle again and smirked in an angry way as he pulled a talisman from the inside of his coat pocket. “Remember this?” he asked and offered up the pearly talisman to her. She hesitated only a moment before taking it in her hands and holding it tight, as though she could squeeze relief out of it. The pain in her body faded in the space of a heartbeat, but the warm comfort never came. The unsettled, disturbed feeling remained with no physical pain to distract from it.

“I wish I’d had this earlier,” she said.

“Was your leg hurting that badly?” Naran asked.

“Not for me, for Fairmorn. Zie went through so much pain because of me. Zie lost part of zir wing,” she said, reaching up to touch her left shoulder to show them which one. “I wish I knew why I’m so upset.”

“It’s a hard thing to see someone die, even someone you didn’t know,” Naran replied. He placed one hand over one side of the wound, pressing it closed.

“No, it’s different, Naran, it’s something else. I feel bad when I think about zir, like something’s really wrong, but I can’t remember what it is. It’s like I’ve forgotten something important. I keep getting these feelings. They’re weird.”

Naran didn’t answer her. He pressed his other hand on her leg and bent his head, saying the words to his spell. This time she watched closely as the blood evaporated from her skin and the wound pulled itself together. Between his fingers her flesh tightened into a scar. She expected glowing light or heat like his other spells and saw none. This spell showed no signs of magic save his words. Naran went silent and lifted his hands just enough to see the wound again. The spell left a bigger, more ragged scar than before, but did the task. He sat back on his heels.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It was no problem at all,” he replied, raising his voice at little and turning in Graymere’s direction. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Maira thought about it. She hadn’t really noticed her leg and when she did she noticed nothing else. Graymere hadn’t pointed out any other injuries. She decided the rest were nothing but bumps, bruises and scrapes beneath Naran’s notice. She shook her head and held the pearl talisman out to him. “Take this. Before I talk anymore nonsense.”

Graymere said, “Nothing you have uttered up to this point has been foolish.”

Naran took the talisman from her. The pain and soreness crashed against her body like an ocean wave. She ached stiffly as she rosed and pulled the robe closely around her, suddenly chilled to the bone. She stopped her teeth chattering long enough to say, “I’m nattering on about having weird feelings about someone I didn’t know.”

“Perhaps you are having these feelings for a reason,” he countered, speaking so evenly the effort he made to express no feelings became obvious.“It might be wise to discuss them.”

Maira stepped up to him, limping the first step before she remembered she could put her weight fully on it. “You know something, don’t you?”

“That is an extremely expansive question,” he replied, tonelessly. “New clothes will be brought. You may wish to wash yourself. Have you eaten recently?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Straight from dodging the question to changing the subject. Not a good sign.

“I don’t need to eat, I need answers. Do you know why I’m having weird feelings? Why is Lord Shadow interested in me?” she demanded. Her stomach growled loudly at that moment. She rolled her eyes and put her palm to her face with a sigh. Of course her stomach picked that moment to betray her.

“I will have food prepared should you desire it. When you are ready, Lord Shadow will wish to speak to you.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?” she asked.

He answered by turning his wings to her and leaving the room. Naran shrugged when the door closed and shook his head.

“Do you think -” she started to say. Naran put a finger to her lips to quiet her.

He came close and embraced her softly, putting his lips to her ear. He whispered three short sorcerer’s words and then said, “Say nothing while we’re here. Assume you’re always being heard and watched. In this Tract, these people outmatch me. We have to be careful.”

She nodded and shut her eyes to savor the close warmth of him and the strong hands on her arms, the stubbly cheek pressed to hers. If they had been anywhere else, she might have wrapped her arms around him and held him close for much longer so his presence could push back the strange, upset feelings. She didn’t and sent him out of the room when he stepped back. Being alone made her cold and uncomfortable, but she could wash away her blood and Fairmorn’s with no one there to see her quietly sobbing as the water turned red and drained away, taking with it the last remains of the agent who died saving her.

Once more she dressed herself in the fine clothes that Lord Shadow’s servants gave to her, with obvious deference on their faces. She wondered if they knew that one of their own had died defending her because of a decision she made in the first place. She washed her face a second time to get rid of any tears and went to the dining room.

There, to her surprise, Yena sat next to Kei-zi, poking at some roasted vegetables with her eating sticks. Maira smiled involuntarily. “Yena?”

Yena smiled back. “You know, I’m beginning to wonder how you lived to be as old you are.”

“How did you get here so quickly?”

From seat to the right of the head of the table, Graymere answered, “I dispatched an agent to retrieve her once we knew you were being pursued. She arrived shortly after we did.”

Maira frowned at him, but did not ask him again about the things he would not tell her. She sat next to Naran and across the from Graymere where an empty plate and bowl with clean eating sticks waited. For all her pride, she refused to turned down free, plentiful food. Especially very good food like this. Best to eat while she could.

When this whirlwind ceased, no one would find her important and the free meals and clothes would cease. She mattered only because of the device. Once it found its destination, the Asna’isi and the Red Hand would turn their back and wouldn’t care if she was murdered in front of their eyes.

Maira served herself without hesitation from the dishes on the table. She loaded up on the foods that would stay with her longer and give her energy, foods like meat and rice and noodles. Greens made a body feel good, but never stuck to the bones as the old priestesses at the orphanhouse said. Eating also gave a wonderful excuse to keep her head down and ignore everyone. She ate as fast as decency allowed. Amongst less dignified company Maira would have inhaled the food. With a smile, she remembered when she and the other orphans came upon the remains of someone’s feast on a park table when a lightning storm came. They risked life and limb but stripped the table and the roasted bird to bones with an efficiency to amaze even locusts.

She only looked up when an Asna’isi entered the room. She recognized this one as an agent from the fight by the distinct yellow and black wings. The agent remained in battle attire, scuffed and dirtied by blood and dust. They approached Graymere with a bow, then kneeled by him so as not to assert any superior height. They spoke in whispered Asna and Maira didn’t bother trying to eavesdrop. The armored agent rose and bowed again and then left.

“Captain Lookinghard, Lieutenant Tutenga, Lord Shadow wishes to speak with you both privately,” Graymere announced. Maira stopped eating and raised her head. She looked to Yena, who gave her a quick glance, a cool, half-lidded look. Maira hoped she would not say anything about the device.

“Then let’s not keep him waiting,” Kei-zi said and got up from the table. Yena remained seated and took a last, long sip of her tea before she rising, deliberately showing no bother at the idea of making a Tract lord wait for her. New admiration for the woman brought a smile to Maira’s face as she strolled through the door as if she had no where particular to be. Maira suddenly loved her for the action, whether it came from her nature, a smart tactic, or just legendary Pahali pride.

Let Shadow do his worst. The Asna’isi might be famed for their learning and technology, but Ambassador Walksbetween and her daughter could match them wit for wit and had double handfuls of daring besides.

“After he has concluded his meeting with them, Lord Shadow will wish to speak to you,” Graymere said to Maira.

Taking her cue from Yena, she shrugged and looked more interested in her roasted duck. “Sure.”

“When he feels the time is right, he will explain everything.” Maira snorted. If he felt like it. Of course. She gave Graymere an open look of irritation. “I assure you, Lord Shadow has excellent reasons for acting as he does.”

Taking a long breath of frustration, Maira put down her eating sticks slowly to measure out her anger. “I’m sure he does, but from where I’m sitting all he’s doing is throwing his weight around like some kind of bull in a ring and making me wait until he decides to share. How would that feel, if you were me?”

She waited, jaw stiff and back straight to brace against the icy fury he brought to the battlefield. “I did not mean to offend you,” he apologized. His voice went down in volume as his eyes averted to his barely touched plate. “I understand this must be frustrating. Please know Lord Shadow and I have only ever meant to protect you.”

“Protecting me is my business. And if wants to help so badly, he could’ve just offered nicely.”

Graymere raised his eyes. “He did. You fled.”

“That wasn’t an offer. That was an ambush! Or do you usually go fully armed to make completely harmless offers. You must have a hard time getting any business done,” she snapped, looking him up and down with disapproval.

“They are trying to kill you! Would you tell me to stand aside and allow it?” he shouted and slammed his hand down on the table so hard tea sloshed out of his cup. Maira sucked in a hard, quick breath but didn’t flinch though her entire body tensed, readying for a fight. She looked sidelong to Naran. He curled his hand around his eating stick in a way not for eating and his usually expressive face went black. He turned by subtle degrees in Graymere’s direction.

She stared Graymere down, locking on the black centers of his eyes. “If you won’t tell me the truth about something that affects my life, then you don’t respect my right to make my own choices for myself. And that makes you just as dangerous as the people trying to kill me.”

He met her gaze, but not with challenge. His face turned soft. “You have never lacked my respect. I apologize for my outburst. It was unworthy.”

She sighed as though exasperated to hide her relief that Graymere had backed down instead of getting angrier. Even with Naran there she had no hope of taking him in a real fight. “I don’t want to fight with you or Lord Shadow. I just want the truth. What’s so bad that you can’t just tell me? I can keep a secret if I have to, you know.”

“I do not doubt that, but my lord’s reasons are his own and I am not permitted to reveal them. Otherwise, I would have done so the moment that we met.”

“Then what can you tell me? Anything?”

He folded his hands neatly in his lap, looking like a perfect, genteel statute. “When you are told you will understand why we have done this. Things will be different. I do not know if you will approve, but you will understand.”

“What do you mean? What will be different?”

“For you, everything.”

“For worse? Will it be bad?”

“That decision will be yours alone when the time comes.”

The stunning softness of his words and the sadness on his face chilled her. She picked up her eating sticks again, but could not bring herself to put another bite in her mouth. She pushed some of the pieces of sticky rice across her plate, not giving voice to the thousand other questions she wanted to ask of Graymere. She had not considered the possibility of the answers being more terrifying than ignorance.

After a while, she gave up even pretending to eat and let the servants clear away the food things from the table. That left them sitting at a bare table staring at each other. She wished that Naran would speak up and considered asking him some trivial questions about sorcery or books just to fill the air.

The doors at the back of the room opened when a servant pushed them back to let Yena and Kei-zi back into the room.

“Lord Shadow wanted me to tell you that after he is finished debriefing his agents and his Prime, he wants to speak with you, Maira,” Yena said. Her unreadable expression made Maira’s stomach turn. She tasted bile in the back of her throat and mouth.

“The debriefing may take some time. I think you will be more comfortable waiting else where,” Graymere said, rising to his feet in a single fluid motion. He gestured to a servant who showed them all into an expansive sitting room with a scenic view of the Asna’isi Tract. A tea tray waited for them on a table inside a circle of plush sitting cushions.

As places to wait anxiously went, it wasn’t so bad.