by Kat Ross
“I will, Javid. Thank you.” Katsu flashed a white smile. “But I have not given up on you yet. If you were content, I would walk away without regret. But I sense that you are not happy serving this Lord Asabana.”
“I wouldn’t drag you into this,” Javid protested. “Asabana is nothing compared to King Shahak. The man’s a lunatic. But Asabana is blinded by how much money he’s making.” Javid closed his eyes. “And now you tell me Nazafareen had a run-in with a fire daēva.” An unpleasant thought struck him. “Did this Vatra come from the Kiln?”
“Where else? Though I’ve no idea how he managed to escape.” He saw Javid’s tense expression and assumed it was simple fear. “Don’t worry, he’s the only one I know of. Nazafareen nearly killed him, though he managed to get away.” He shook his head. “She has some fey power I’d never heard of. Huo mofa, she called it.”
“I know.” Javid missed her despite the fact that she attracted trouble like flies to a midden. Nazafareen always meant well, even if her plans tended to go horribly awry. “Was she well when you left her?”
“Quite well, and her Danai lover too. When we parted, they were planning to go to the darklands.” He eyed Javid. “Come back to Tjanjin with me. Samarqand is too dangerous.”
Javid glanced back at the house. “I can’t leave, Katsu. I’m in too deep.”
Katsu nodded. “I understand. Let me think on this some more. Tomorrow at the Abicari?”
“Tomorrow.”
They clasped hands. Javid watched Katsu walk away, his smile fading.
20
Weddings and Wind Ships
The falcon glided in wide circles over the ancient olive trees growing along the riverbank, its pale breast flashing in the sunlight. Suddenly it dove, a dark missile streaking for the earth. At the last second, the bird banked and climbed, some small creature dangling from its talons.
Javid leaned his elbows on the marble balustrade, Leila at his side. Their employer stood a few paces off. He raised a gloved hand and the falcon sped toward its master, alighting on his wrist. Asabana took the mouse by its tail and dropped it into the bird’s open beak.
“Why does she always return to her jailers?” Javid murmured. “She could just fly away and never look back.”
“Because she has been trained to do so,” Leila replied with a darkly amused look. “Her masters feed her well.”
Asabana gave the bird to its handlers and strolled over, pulling the thick leather glove off. He seemed to be in a good mood. Javid steadied himself.
“My lord, I was hoping to request some time off. My father’s health is declining. He cannot use his hands. And my sister is getting married—”
“I pay you enough to take care of them,” Asabana said gruffly.
“Indeed, you are very generous, my lord. But—”
“No.”
Javid had expected this, but it still rankled.
“A few days only….”
“It’s a sensitive time. Ask me again in a few weeks.”
In a few weeks, we’ll all be dead. Or worse.
Javid bowed his head. It was pointless to argue. But he could try again to make his boss see reason.
“King Shahak is growing impatient, my lord. He’s demanding to know the source of the dust. I don’t think I can put him off much longer.”
Asabana scowled. “If we tell him where the source is, he’ll cut us out.”
“Not necessarily,” Leila ventured. “He’ll still need your ships to get it.”
“Perhaps. Or he might hire someone cheaper. There’s always some hungry newcomer looking for a piece of the action.”
“My lord,” Javid said, “he threatened to summon you to court.”
Asabana chewed thoughtfully, then flashed his gold teeth. “Don’t worry, lad, I can manage him.”
Javid doubted this. Asabana had attended the coronation along with the other nobles, but he hadn’t spent time in Shahak’s company. He didn’t seem to grasp what the prince was capable of.
“You’d best get back to the palace. Tell our King, the Holy Father bless his name, that the next shipment is on me. That should keep him happy for a while.”
Asabana must have seen the skepticism in Javid’s face because his gaze hardened a fraction.
“Unless you have a better idea, in which case, do share it.”
Javid stifled a sigh. “No, my lord.”
Gold teeth flashed, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Glad I can count on you, son.” His stare lingered for a few moments longer as though he saw into Javid’s secret heart, but he said nothing, signaling to a servant who hurried forward with a cup of iced wine.
Asabana rarely issued outright threats. He didn’t have to. Everyone knew his reputation and unlike other crime bosses, it wasn’t inflated. If anything, the truth was worse.
Once Javid would have quailed. But he’d grown accustomed to weathering the volatile moods of King Shahak, who was far more frightening in his way. Asabana might be a thug, but his motives were simple. The classics: money and power. Shahak, on the other hand, was not entirely sane. He had moments of genius, even kindness and generosity, but the dust was eating holes in his brain. One could never be sure where one stood with the king—or what he might do at any given moment.
So Javid simply brushed off his coatsleeves and bowed to his employer.
“I beg your leave then,” he said, shooting Leila a look. “I’ll bring your warmest regards to the king.”
“And I have work to finish,” Leila said quickly. “Father will be wanting me.”
Asabana waved a hand. He was already digging into the array of savory dishes laid out on the canopied table.
“How is your father?” Javid asked politely as they walked away, conscious of Asabana’s eyes following them. The man had hearing like a bat.
“Quite well. He will raise me up to a full alchemist soon.”
“A great accomplishment for one so young.”
“How kind of you to say,” she murmured.
The moment they’d passed through the door to the manor, Javid dropped his formal tone.
“Full alchemist, eh? And what will you do then?”
“Remain in his lordship’s service, of course. I’m his hawk too. Besides which, no one else would hire a woman even if I did find the courage to leave.” She paused in front of the splashing fountain in the manor’s grand entrance hall. It was loud enough to drown out their words if any servants were listening. “What’s happened? It’s obvious you’re bursting to tell me something.”
Javid leaned closer. “The Vatras aren’t all dead. I know someone who saw one in Tjanjin.”
Leila’s eyes narrowed. “What? Who?”
“I can’t say.”
“It’s that thief of yours, isn’t it? I can tell by the flush creeping up your neck.” She grinned. “How sweet. He came looking for you.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Javid hissed. “A Vatra! He must have come from the Kiln.”
She sighed. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Just slow down and tell me the whole thing.”
“I don’t have all the details yet, but I’m sure he’s telling the truth. When Katsu got out of the Pythia’s dungeons, he went to Tjanjin, seeking a talisman that had been stolen from the emperor. He met a woman I know, a breaker of magic. Her name is Nazafareen.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Leila said thoughtfully. “Rare creatures. My father says they are like white stags. Every so often, one turns up.”
“Well, they ended up crossing paths with a Vatra. He fled through a gate.” Javid saw her dubious expression. “Katsu said he witnessed the man working fire directly. I don’t think he would exaggerate such a thing.”
“Yet you didn’t tell Asabana any of this.”
Javid shuddered. “He has enough leverage on me already. If I told him, I’d have to explain how I knew. No way is he getting anywhere near Katsu. The poor bastard finally got a break. I’m not about to ruin his li
fe.” He stared at her. “You mustn’t tell anyone, not even your father.”
“I won’t. But whether it’s true or not, it doesn’t change anything.”
It changes everything, he wanted to shout. But Leila was right. He supposed he could feign sickness the next time they made a run for the Kiln, but that wouldn’t work forever.
“I want out,” he declared. “I don’t care about the money anymore. Katsu offered me a job. A partnership.”
“So take it.”
“You know I can’t.”
He saw sympathy in her eyes. “If there’s any way I can help, just ask. As long as it doesn’t put myself or my father at risk.”
“Thanks.” He gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “You’re a good friend, Leila.”
“Did you kiss him yet?”
“None of your business.” Javid stalked out the door and down the wide steps, heading for the Ash Vareca. Leila followed.
“I’ll take that for a no. You really must conquer your shyness. Katsu clearly likes you or he wouldn’t have come all the way to Samarqand.”
“It’s complicated,” he snapped, hauling himself up the ladder and lighting the burners.
“All love is complicated.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You’re scared. I suppose that’s understandable. But there are many types of intercourse between men and women, men and men, women and women. You can teach each other—”
Javid’s flush deepened. “I get it. Untie that mooring line, would you?”
Leila tossed the line to the deck and the ship drifted upward. She smiled at him indulgently.
“You are simply in want of an education, Javid,” she called. “I’d be happy to—”
He gave her a wave and set a course back to the city. The wind cooled his burning cheeks and he laughed. Leila Khorram-Din was certainly one of a kind. He wondered what his ma would make of her. Bibi, he knew, would fall in love with her.
The thought of his family sobered him quickly. He had a sudden image of Bibi screaming as faceless men dragged her from the house.
You’ll get out of this with your skin somehow, he thought grimly. You always do. Just keep your head down and your eyes open. Once you have enough gold, you can get them to safety.
From the air, Samarqand resembled a spiral shell, with its streets running in concentric circles from the Rock of Ariamazes. Smoke from the forge fires hung in a thick haze over the blacksmith’s quarter, but Javid could see the smudged outlines of the adjacent slum known as Bildaar. Izad Asabana had been born there. He’d started off as a small-time smuggler and slowly built up a black market empire. Then he’d discovered spell dust, thanks to Leila and Marzban Khorram-Din, and made his fortune, with a noble title from old King Cambyses to boot.
Shahak’s father had indulged his pleasures and left the affairs of state to the Queen and his advisory council. Asabana didn’t comprehend that the son was a very different sort of man. He seemed to think he was still the boy’s puppet master, but Shahak would not dance for him much longer.
Javid landed at the western edge of the Abicari. It was a hive of activity, though less than usual. Most of the ships sat at anchor and Javid recalled the rumors he’d heard about the Marakai. As he strode across the field, the other pilots nodded at him with new respect and a touch of envy. Everyone knew he worked for Asabana now. They figured he’d hit the big time. Javid almost laughed, though it wasn’t funny. He’d trade places with them in a heartbeat—even if it meant being a bucket boy again. Savah Sayuzhdri might be a perfectionist, but he wouldn’t have you killed if you screwed up.
Katsu waited outside a large hangar filled with ships in various stages of construction and repair. He broke into a warm smile when he saw Javid.
“I watched you land,” he said. “It must take great skill.”
“Nothing that can’t be learned,” Javid replied with uncharacteristic modesty.
Katsu laughed. “So says an experienced pilot. I imagine it took you many years.”
“I suppose I do have a knack for flying.”
“What does a new ship cost?”
“It depends what you’re looking for. Come, I’ll introduce you to the boss.”
They found Savah in his cluttered office, going over invoices for the Merchants’ Guild. He held a magnifying lens in one huge paw, which he quickly hid under the table as they walked in.
He’s getting old, Javid thought with a touch of surprise. It was hard to fathom. Savah was a force of nature—he’d been the master of the Abicari when Javid was in swaddling clothes. He knew his ships down to the last peg and could probably build one single-handedly. Javid couldn’t imagine anyone taking his place.
“Well, well.” Savah slid the glass into a drawer and shifted his right leg, which stuck out stiffly. “Haven’t seen you around here in a while. I hear you’re the man of the house now.”
“Just helping out a little.”
“That’s not what your mother says.” He studied Javid. “You look good, kid. Who’s your friend?”
Katsu gave a low bow. He looked elegant in a pearl grey coat that set off his dark skin and tilted eyes. “My name is Katsu.”
“You’re not from Samarqand.”
“Tjanjin.”
Savah eyed him skeptically. “Well, Katsu from Tjanjin, it’s nice to meet you, but I’ve got a bloody mountain of work to do, so—”
“Katsu wishes to commission a wind ship,” Javid said.
Savah leaned back. “Who do you represent?”
“Myself.”
The master of the Abicari drummed his index finger on the table. Only the wealthiest nobles commissioned personal wind ships and despite Katsu’s fine coat (which was a bit tattered at the cuffs), he was obviously no lord. Besides the scars on his hands, his face was a bit too hard, his beard too scruffy.
“What do you want it for?”
“Just to travel, make a little money on the side.”
“A little money on the side.” Savah shook his grizzled head. “You do know the Marakai have vanished. Not a single ship has come into the harbor at Susa for the last week. Nothing’s moving. The docks are clogged with fresh meat and produce bound for the Isles. It’s all going to rot. And that’s just the perishable goods. The prices for silks and spices are skyrocketing, but no one has any to sell.” His mournful gaze landed on Javid. “You’re lucky you work for Asabana. He’s the only one whose bottom line isn’t getting erased.”
“I saw the Marakai fleet sail away myself,” Katsu ventured carefully. “The Five is meeting. What will happen after, I cannot say. But I do know the Marakai captains personally. If they return to Susa, I might be able to secure a contract or two.”
“And cut the Guild out?” Savah growled.
Katsu looked alarmed. “That’s not my intention. I’ll follow the proper channels, of course. I assume there are…licensing fees to be paid.”
“You assume right.”
“Come on, uncle.” Javid flashed a grin. “He’s an honest man. I’ll vouch for him. Perhaps his contacts with the Marakai can be of use.”
Savah stared hard at them both, then heaved a sigh. He pulled a small, dusty cask from underneath a stack of papers and poured three cups of wine.
“Remember when I told you we’d be reduced to the swill they brew in Susa?” he asked Javid. “Well, this is even worse. Vinegar from the cellars of the magi, the Holy Father bless them. But it’s all we’ve got, so bottoms up.” He raised his cup. “To the health of King Shahak. May he save us from the bloody Pythia and whatever else is headed our way.”
“To the health of King Shahak,” Javid murmured.
He took a bracing sip. From the corner of his eye, he watched Katsu swallow with an admirably blank expression.
Savah slammed the cup down and let out a discreet belch. “I’ll need a down payment before we can start work.”
Katsu placed a heavy bag on the desk. It made a clinking sound that warmed Javid’s heart
.
“Will this cover it?”
Savah peered inside, then nodded. “More than enough.” He rubbed his hands together. “Now, what did you have in mind?”
“I’m not sure. Can any of the wind ships cross the sea?”
Savah laughed. “It’s never been tried, so I won’t say no. But you’d be crazy to make the attempt. First storm you hit…. Well, the air sacks aren’t made for storms and smashers.”
Katsu nodded as if he’d expected this answer. “I’d like something that can carry cargo but also with sleeping quarters below decks.”
They spent half an hour discussing the various options. Katsu finally settled on one of the newest styles, a swift cutter thirty paces long—modest by the standards of the Guild’s cargo ships but more than adequate for Katsu’s needs.
“It’ll take a couple of weeks,” Savah said.
“Can you finish it faster?” Katsu asked, glancing at Javid.
“Sure, but that’ll cost extra. Say five thousand darics.”
“I have the money.”
“We’ll start today then.”
Savah drew up the contract and Katsu placed his mark on it. Then they toasted Golpari and her upcoming wedding and Katsu and his new ship. Javid was pleased, but he also felt a bit depressed that the Stygian would be leaving so soon.
“I hope you’ll reconsider my offer,” Katsu said as he walked Javid to the Ash Vareca.
“I have,” Javid replied firmly. “It’s impossible. But I’ll make sure you hire the best pilot.”
Katsu seemed to accept this. “If I may ask one last favor then. Perhaps you can direct me to a good tailor? I had no time before I left Tjanjin and I’ve been wearing these clothes for days.”
“Of course. I’ll take you to Bahruz. But you have to let me do the haggling. I know his tricks.”
Katsu laughed. “I heard you Persians like to argue over price. In Tjanjin, it would be considered unforgiveably rude.”
“You mean you pay whatever they ask for?” Javid asked with disbelief. “Where’s the fun in that?” He nearly told Katsu to come to the house again, then thought of his parents. “Where are you staying?”
