by Trevol Swift
Jhee pulled out her conch to note her findings. No signal and still almost full. She peered at the hillside underneath the spire. Around the edge of the bluff, she thought she could see flickering lights. The sea wisps?
She joined the prioress on the stairs. “Show me the Bridge Tower, please.”
The prioress brought her to the other high spire. So many stairs. The space atop its height resembled the other except well kept. Archways had likewise been carved and fitted with railings. All except one which led to a little overhanging platform. The wind howled and rain pattered against the roof before accumulating to drip down onto the floor.
The view was as breathtaking as the climb. Jhee rested against the low rail. One overlooked nearly the whole isle from here. This spire’s twin and the taller storm light spire partially blocked the view. No doubt from the storm light deck little escaped notice. Mighty sea. High bluffs. Wetlands.
The billowing mass of the storm shield dominated the horizon. Lightning flashes from within brightened its ever-present glow. She squinted against an occasional glint from the solar array field when lightning escaped the bounds of the shield. Beautiful, vibrancy hid underneath new and near-constant fog and mellowing gray. The bright, cheery isle now plagued by storm and rain. Even when not storming, claustrophobic cloud cover persisted. How much more spectacular the view must have been before the shield? At the right time of day, in better weather, the light would be perfect for painting and photography. “Saheli made this climb how often?”
“Every day, including the day of her transfiguration.”
“She must have been most fit.” Jhee pointed at scorched roofing tiles. “Is this where she ascended?”
“No, sometimes the reflections from a misaligned solar array get too hot.”
Jhee held tight to the rough, coral arch as she inched out onto the overhang. She found paint splotches and some scratches from Saheli’s easel and tripod. A little lean—more than Jhee found comfortable—gave a good overview of the domed, hothouses. She gave a sigh once safely back on the landing.
“Fit and fearless.” Further in the distance, away from the town proper, ramshackle huts and cook fires dotted the landscape. “Those are the refugee camps?”
The prioress’s perpetual frown deepened. “The loss of landmass and rapid erosion near the storm zone has driven many closer and closer to high ground such as Torilsisle.”
“The same happened on my home isle.” Jhee remembered the prioress’s comments about supplicants. “Many seek to take holy orders?”
“Saheli encouraged it. Pyrmo has been more restrictive. Males in particular.”
“Strange so many young men taking vows.”
“Those refugees left their homes for better lives. As a larger isle, Torilsisle has game enough and land for crops and flower beds. It is in no danger of being lost to the sea, which is why it sees so many on their way to elsewhere. The capital will not be able to accommodate them all. With proper education and training, some may find work on the shield or in mining. Some have made the calculation; it might be better to stay at places such as this.”
“I’ve seen some of the places in the Far Reaches. The abbey is indeed an improvement from what many might normally expect.”
The prioress expression and tone softened. “More than that, Justicar, as laypeople or charity cases, what we provided them was much more limited. Many joined the abbey to have full bellies. The abbey makes use of who it can. The refugees are cheap labor for fishing and farming. As Prospectives, they get an education, better quality food and accommodation, and to serve the Makers as they will.”
“In that light, it does make much more sense.” Jhee noted this on her conch. She returned to the platform and held her conch aloft. “High spires. High bluffs. So many dangerous heights on this isle.”
“It protects our privacy and allows us forewarning should trouble come our way. With enough of us being veterans, I suspect any coming to do us harm as in the raiding days would no longer find us such easy prey.”
“I suspect not. How long have you been prior?”
“I was raised to the priory upon Pyrmo’s appointment as abbess. She held the position before me.”
“Was it you who found Saheli collapsed?”
“Sister Serra. I arrived soon after. The horticulturist claims she came to return her cat. I insisted we take Saheli to the infirmary. Both claimed it unnecessary. Perhaps if I had been more insistent.”
Jhee noted that too. Another failed transfer notice greeted her.
The prioress scowled. “Am I boring you?”
“I’m listening. I thought maybe I could get a signal out. Any updates on the antenna?”
“It’s been too overcast. For a strong signal, try the solar array fields or storm light tower.”
“Would you show me to where Saheli transcended?”
The prioress’s stern expression returned. “This way.”
The Coral Cloister Lesson Hall presented such an unremarkable backdrop to such a remarkable event. Clean-boards for instruction faced worn benches and chairs. Jhee considered how one might get from here to the courtyards or the abbess’s chamber.
“What time of day was it when she transcended?”
“Afternoon.”
“Any idea why Saheli collapsed?”
“Heatstroke? Dehydration? The double sunlight can become intense on clear days.”
“Forward-thinking to have fruit beer on hand. Saheli must have gotten so engrossed in her work she forgot to drink some. What do you think about these rumors of the Mist Abbess?”
The prioress’s face lost expression. “The abbey’s history has not always been a peaceful one. When the barbarians sacked it, they slaughtered lesser spouses and children who had hidden here for safety. Prior to that, it was controlled by the Middle Pillarists during the atrocities. In those days, it was called Swordbridge. The Drakist Adepts renamed it along with what we now call the Beach Tower.”
“Adepts? Yet, you eschew arcana.”
“Our abbey was originally founded by ex-soldiers who had turned to the ways of spiritual reflection. Yet the space remembers. They say the barrier between the first realms of the dead and last realms of the living is thin here.”
Jhee started calculating angles of reflections. “First Maker’s Folly, is that the time? I’m afraid I must interrupt the tour. Would we be able to see the storm light tower tomorrow?”
“A second day away from my duties is unacceptable.”
“Thank you for your assistance. I shall let the First Makers’ Design guide my steps then.”
8 Family Teatime
Make for Make
“You’re late,” Kanto said. “And you look a fright.”
“I know. I know.”
The small washbasin on a nearby table showed he had anticipated tardiness. Kanto spared her a frown but did not pause the painstaking process of lacquering Mirrei’s nails. His had been freshly touched up and colored to complement his turquoise outfit. She cleaned herself while the rest of her cohort dressed in silence. Every now and then Kanto set the lacquer bottle down with a punctuated thud.
Kanto approached to brush her hair. Her headache had returned. When she began favoring the bridge of her nose, Mirrei appeared from nowhere again with the poultice.
After eying the poultice briefly, Kanto checked the time and sighed.
“You wore one the last time you saw her. We’ll pretend it’s your look.” He found a scarf to match the robes he had chosen for her. “Early is on time and on time is late. I swear if we insult the vizier...”
Despite Kanto’s fears, they arrived fashionably early. However, Mirrei alone spoke to her during the trip. Kanto was giving her the felled fish routine while Shep was Shep. He detested visits such as this. Both had brought an item to showcase their talents: Kanto his lute and Shep his kalacha war club, a further reason for him to be ill at ease.
Lady Bathsheba welcomed them with the more formal bows rather than forea
rm clasps.
“Your prompt response to my invitation was an unexpected delight. The watermarks, so elegant: Star Mirror, Bright Harmony, Dawn Wolf. Outside naming. Such formality. You are, indeed, a quaint cohort. I took the liberty of having a meal prepared.”
“All honors to you, Lady Bathsheba, and I took the liberty of providing entertainment.”
Make for Make. The tea table had been extended to make room for five. Opposite the table, a little performance chair had been set out. Kanto and Shep displayed the lute and kalacha on it for later. Lady Bathsheba gave Jhee and her senior spouse pride of place to either side with her juniors seated farthest away. Kanto offered to pour the tea. After tea and pleasantries, her spouses set up to perform.
Mirrei performed a Stations-of-the-Moons cypher. Jhee mouthed along as Mirrei performed each station flawlessly as they had practiced so many times. When she found herself miming along as well, she stilled herself. While the cypher was overly elaborate for what it did, it demonstrated many of the fundamental skills and techniques of the craft. At the close, the vase emitted a shower of shimmering cherry blossoms instead of the usual sparkles. Translucent blossom illusions evaporated as they landed upon the rug. The Stations-of-the-Moons was one of the required entrance cyphers for the magic program at the academy. A wide grin overtook Jhee. She, Lady Bathsheba, and Shep clapped in appreciation. Jhee perhaps with too much animation. She calmed herself when she saw Shep snicker. Kanto hovered about the edges, appearing whenever their teacups emptied.
Shep came to her aid with a distraction. “I must compliment the vizier on your collection of relics. Is that Hymn to Toril scrollwork on those aprons?”
“Indeed, it is. You have a discerning eye.”
Next, Shep took center stage to perform a battle stomp. Kanto had retired to the wings to sketch and prepare for his performance. Shep looked to Jhee before he began. She gave a slight smile and nod of encouragement. He performed one of the stomps their old unit did for inspections or when dignitaries came to visit.
“Your performance of Stations-of-the-Moon was simply masterful, my dear.”
“The vizier is most kind. It’s thanks in no small part to denbe’s excellent tutelage.” Mirrei gave Jhee demure eye twinkles then a wink. Perhaps the young woman laid it on a bit thick. Lady Bathsheba unfurled the finger maze on the table. “Justicar, if you don’t mind, I also brought out the finger maze you admired so much on your last visit once again. You and Star Mirror might be interested in trying it together.”
Jhee and Mirrei finger cast through the levels of the finger maze. Lady Bathsheba watched with a visage of barely contained excitement. “She hopes to begin teaching my fellow junior spouse as well. Denye’s as likely to flourish under her direction as I am.”
Lady Bathsheba regarded them with a bemused expression. “Nonsense. The subtleties, the nuance, the grace required of cyphering is too taxing for the male character. Common elemental grunt work is the only training suitable for men. Could you imagine if men were as proficient with fire as women? They’d fireball everything in sight.”
“Yet, some men are proficient with fire and have yet to burn the place down.”
“I owe that to most of the empire being on water.”
With the question thoroughly answered as to whether Mirrei and Lady Bathsheba would get on, Jhee changed the subject. “How long have you resided here, Lady Bathsheba?”
“Longer than I want to admit. I retired from court after the death of my third husband. What a talented cohort you have. You have your males well-trained and well-appointed. A state I had not expected given our previous meeting. The traditional figure of your anchor spouse shows the markers of virility and fitness. I never quite went in for silver fangs myself. He does, however, make me see the appeal. Shame about his eye, though. Was it a consequence of his military service?”
“The vizier is quite astute.”
“His tattoos and the recognition of the scrollwork. I’ve been around quite a few veterans.”
Kanto began a performance of Freedom Flight, a challenging piece meant to impress.
“Your Kanto, on the other hand.”
They lapsed into appreciative silence while he played. Kanto finished with a flourish. Lady Bathsheba clapped thunderously.
“Thank you, my dear. Your playing.... There are no words. Handsome, talented, and a connoisseur of tea. Such talent and good breeding. Rare jewels found in such a remote district. You will fit right in at court.”
“Thank you. Such high praise. The vizier is most kind,” Kanto said. He and Shep bowed then returned to the table.
“Come. Sit beside me.” Lady Bathsheba and Kanto turned Jhee’s way. She inclined her head. “Where did you learn to play so brilliantly?”
“Tutors. Though I am largely self-taught. Our corner of the district is so far off the main lanes. Not too many tutors were willing to make the journey. Certainly, none as brilliant or prestigious as you, my lady. My family could spare the expense. I was an exception. My dames were always great matrons of the arts. I was talking to my honored wife about improving the state of education in our district, particularly regarding art and music.”
“Talented and civic-minded. This one is such a flatterer. Makes me feel almost like a young woman again. Justicar, I might have to borrow him from you.” Lady Bathsheba drank from her teacup and nodded approvingly. “A perfect pour, precisely spiced. Hard to do with this blend.”
“Thank you, Vizier. Black forest tea has such a dominant flavor; it must be delicately treated, so it does not overpower.”
“My goodness, I just noticed the lovely foil work on your nails. I’m amazed it didn’t get damaged in your playing.”
“The trick is to apply another layer of lacquer once it has properly set up.”
The two laughed and got on famously. Whenever the Lady so much as held out her cup, Kanto rushed to refill it. Shep from his newly demoted position gave Jhee another smirk. Perhaps Jhee had been too fast to rule out a match between Kanto and the vizier. Yet, she imagined the conversation with Lady Kaydence. Trapped at the isolated abbey with these sexist women was surely not what his grandmamere had in mind. The abbey was a woefully inappropriate place for him. This place is too small for her husband. She was too small for her husband. And if she were to be so selfish, the match held little socio-political advantage for her.
Jhee occupied herself during Lady Bathsheba’s distraction with a closer look at the room details. The martial theme to the decor had not been what she expected from a music tutor. A jostle caused the finger maze to slip. She caught the finger maze and placed it with some architectural plans for an archive expansion on a nearby table. The speckled texture of a ritual collar gave her pause.
“Such sumptuous robes, this time, Justicar. Was it something I said?”
“No, Lady Bathsheba,” Jhee said, then finished in her head, it wasn’t one snobbish thing you said was everything. She returned her attention to her companions. She hid her mouth with her cup so Lady Bathsheba would not see her frown. The Lady Bathshebas of the world did not worry about having much younger husbands. They viewed husbands as pets. There would be more women like this in the capital. Not the ideal situation she wished for Kanto. In the end, it would be his choice.
One insurmountable concern outweighed the others for Jhee. Someone here may have killed Saheli and the young men. Even if the deaths weren’t murders, the clergy had little love for anyone save themselves.
“In my indelicate way, I thought I was doing you a favor. My warnings about court were not hyperbole. I also sought to test you. Conscientious officials are not always the norm. Are you also, a veteran?”
“Intelligence pool.”
“Wealthy enough for your family to position you away from real danger.” Jhee sipped some more tea. “Please, don’t take that wrong. As an official, a vizier, I had a way out of combat. Like yourself. Someone as fearless and civic-minded as yourself, I might have thought you’d get a commission to the na
vy.”
“I prefer solid ground.”
Lady Bathsheba studied Jhee for a moment. “I continue to scandalize you. A privilege of getting older is no longer concerning yourself with trivia, niceties, or conventions. Those are young woman’s cares and concern of court. I live a more rustic life here.”
A Gracious Host
Their assembly ate a most excellent meal of crispy pork, braised rice and onions, yams, kale and fennel salad, and a marvelous poached tuna, accompanied by a humble decanter of Tranquility Bridge’s Light. As expected, Mirrei favored generous helpings of salad and heavily salted pork in avoidance of the starch and other animal proteins.
“Pascoe standards. No land meat. Did I get it correct?”
Jhee dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “You did, my lady.”
Lady Bathsheba addressed Mirrei, “Your wife mentioned you are into dietetics. Are you whose palette we are accommodating?”
“I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit, Vizier.”
“Was everything to your satisfaction, gentlemen?”
“The crispy pork was cooked to perfection,” Kanto said.
Shep nodded enthusiastically. “It helps when you start with such prime cuts.”
“It seems the privation which hit the rest of the isles has yet to do so here,” Mirrei said. Jhee winced. Kanto pinched Mirrei just under the table. She twitched. “Everything was wonderful, Vizier.”
“Yet, you did not touch most of the dishes.”
“I’m watching my saline levels.”
“Fresh Lung?”
“A mild case.”
“Your Star Mirror is a true daughter of the sea, Justicar. Did you try the draught I suggested? I hear it works wonders on Fresh Lung as well.”
“Not yet, my lady.”
Lady Bathsheba twisted her napkin. “Make sure you do so soon.”
“Have you spoken to the archivist yet?”
