by M. A. Ray
Before he stood, he let her squeeze him. The top of his head was about six inches from the ceiling. “Hello there, Tikka.” He was hard put to do anything but smile at her. A soft-looking, cream-and-brown Ishling clung to her back, with its skinny tail sticking out of a nappy. “That a grand, or a great-grand?”
“No great-grands yet, more’s the pity. This is my newest granddaughter, Hilo. Of course you know my daughters, and their daughters…” She indicated the circle of Ish women and girls waiting to eat. They sat cross-legged on bright rugs woven with Ishian religious symbols: Salmon for plenty, Orca for war, and wise old Death, who wore the Raven’s face. There were even a couple of rugs woven with images of Otter, the trickster god. In the center of the circle, several cedar planks laden with baked salmon and skewers of vegetables threw off delicious-smelling steam.
“I know most of them. Is this your little girl, Neen?”
The youngest of Tikka’s daughters hooked a hand over her nose, looking down in delighted embarrassment. “Yes, she is.”
“Cute,” Vandis said. “Congratulations.”
Kessa poked her curly head through the trapdoor, and he introduced her. Tikka’s family fussed over her bright hair, pretty eyes, and impressive height. She couldn’t straighten completely under the low ceiling, and ended up hunchbacking over to a seat in the circle of Ish, on a rug woven in a pattern of Otter symbols. After another few moments, Dingus’s hood and thin arms came up through the hole. He shut his eyes, and Vandis watched his ribs expand as he rose, pulling a deep draught of the steamy, food-scented air through his nose. A broad, approving grin broke out across the homely kid face.
“This is Sir Dingus, my Junior.” No matter how many times he introduced Dingus that way, his heart felt like it would pop, he was so proud.
“That leaf is brand-new like springtime, isn’t it?” Tikka said, accosting Dingus before he’d even pulled his legs in. “Congratulations, Sir Dingus.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Dingus said, blushing.
“This is Hilo,” she added, pointing her thumb back at the baby.
Dingus offered a finger. “Hi, sweetie,” he said, and in a flash she’d bounded from his forearm to his shoulder, pulled his hood down, and settled on his head. Tiny, quick fingers picked through his blazing hair.
“Eee, hi, hi, hee, hee, hi!” she cheeped. Neen bounced up and rushed over, scolding in Ishian, to rescue Dingus, who’d started laughing along with everyone else.
“So sorry about that. She’s very friendly,” Neen trilled, reaching for Hilo, who was the size of a barn kitten, if the kitten weren’t particularly large.
“She can stay.” Dingus grinned. “I don’t mind.”
The Ish woman beamed at him. “Well, if she gets to be trouble for you, just shout for Neen!”
“This is everyone, isn’t it, Vandis?” Tikka asked, and when Vandis nodded, she clapped her hands and said, “Let’s sit down and eat!”
Vandis took a Salmon rug and Dingus pulled up the trapdoor before he scooted across the floor to an Orca; his hair looked a lot neater than usual, bar the Ishling still busy on the crown of his head. Tikka took a red rug with Raven symbols and served out the food: roast salmon with rosemary, green and yellow summer squashes, little, charred tomatoes that popped hotly in the mouth, and chunks of the big white radish the Ish called spoo: burnt on the outside, spicy-sweet on the inside.
“Now that you have a Junior and a Squire,” Tikka told Vandis, tipping a wink, “I think you’re ready for some children of your own! You’re not getting any younger. It’s high time you let some lucky woman make an honest man of you. Are you seeing anyone?” A chorus of female voices followed, demanding to know, and heat crept up Vandis’s neck.
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, do you know who I like?” Tikka said. “I like that Lady Kirsten. She wouldn’t take any of the shit you fling, and she’s pretty, for a Big. You should let her know you’re willing to go to bed.”
Vandis shook his head. They always did this. “I’m not, though. I’m fine being single, and now I do have kids of my own, right here.”
“It’s hardly the same. What about you, Dingus?” Tikka prodded. “You must be seeing someone. So handsome, and so nice with the baby! Raven’s tail, I can’t imagine you’re by yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am,” Dingus said, eyes on the floor, face like a hot coal.
“Well! Well!” Tikka threw up her hands.
A change of subject was most definitely in order. “Kessa here took second place in the All-Order Arm Wrestling,” Vandis offered.
“Did you? Sweetie, that’s wonderful!”
Kessa grinned and flexed so her muscle popped out. Tikka made admiring sounds and reached up to feel, and the women in the room fell to praising Kessa.
Dingus’s attention was mostly on Hilo, to whom he fed tiny bits of fish and vegetables, and then cherry pie when dessert came, but he kept glancing at Vandis and frowning.
Vandis allowed himself one slice of pie and pretended it wasn’t happening. He ate quickly. If he didn’t leave soon, he wouldn’t. As soon as the last bite slid down his throat, he stood. “I hate to eat and run, but I need to get going. The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be back,” he said, that last mostly for his Junior’s benefit.
“Behave yourself,” Kessa joked, and he stooped to let her kiss his cheek.
“I will if you will. You know the rules by now, don’t you?”
She smiled at him. “Don’t take any crap, make sure they draw back stumps, and listen to Dingus.”
“And watch out for pickpockets, wooden royals, and ‘No Bigs’ signs.”
“Yes, Vandis. Be safe, okay?”
He nodded and squeezed her shoulder. “Tikka, a minute, if you can spare one?”
“Of course. Let’s go up to the shrine.”
Dingus looked distinctly hurt, but Vandis tried to shake it off and followed Tikka through the levels of her cozy, brightly-decorated house, up to the very top, a simple platform high in the canopy with a little incense burner carved like the white oak and a figurine of the Lady.
“Do you like my statue?” Tikka asked, pointing out the figurine. “Neen’s partner Loo made it for me before he went back to the Men’s House.”
“I do like it,” Vandis said, stooping to admire the dark, polished wood. It looked a little more Ishian than the Lady was wont, but She wouldn’t have minded.
“He’s Hilo’s father. Neen decided she wanted a break, but she will mope and sigh. I hope she’ll have him back for good. He was an excellent addition to the household, and so good-looking, too.” She finished with a wicked grin so broad only an Ish could have managed it.
Vandis shook his head, grinning too. “You’re just a dirty old bird at bottom.”
“I’m enjoying old age. I get to say things and people write them off because I am old.” She rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Now, what would you like to say to me, friend?”
“Thank you for doing this. I really appreciate it. They shouldn’t need much from you.”
“Of course!” she said. “But I feel as if you want to tell me something else. Is it about your Junior? I noticed you didn’t say good-bye to him.”
“Will you send him up to me? Dingus is… he’d rather hear good-byes in private, I think.”
“All right. I’ll send him,” she agreed, and headed for the trapdoor.
“Write to me,” he said, fidgeting. “If there’s anything I need to know.”
“I’ll do that,” she said, nodding, and went down.
In a few minutes Dingus unfolded his lanky body from the trapdoor and rose, glancing around before his eyes settled on Vandis. “Thought you were pissed at me,” he muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“I wasn’t.” Vandis scowled. “Why’d you think a thing like that?”
Dingus gave him nothing but big, hurt eyes, and he felt like he’d kicked a puppy.
“I’m not angry with you. I just thought
you’d rather have a few minutes with me.” He raised his eyebrows. “Was I wrong?”
“No.” Dingus’s lips ticked up at the corners, and the minute, familiar smile slammed into Vandis’s chest.
He stuffed his cap down over his hair. Barber, he reminded himself sternly, trying not to think of how much he’d miss his son-who-wasn’t, and cleared his throat. “As hard as you were watching out for me, I want you to watch yourself and Kessa. Heads down, eyes open.”
“Yes, Vandis.”
“I gave Kessa some for her expenses, so you don’t have to spend your stipend. Remember, it’s against the law for you to carry more than ten sovereigns at a time—that’s total, not just the gold pieces.”
“I got a lot more than that in my pack. What if—”
“Keep it out of sight and store it as soon as you can. Mind what I told Kessa about the ‘No Bigs’ signs. They don’t want you kicking the citizens around, even by accident.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Dingus promised. He paused, licking his lips. “Vandis…”
“It won’t be more than a month.”
“Please. Be careful.”
Vandis shut his eyes and breathed. Getting sick and tired of hearing that, he thought, but aloud he only said, “I’ll see you soon,” and climbed to perch on the railing around the deck. He wished it’d feel a little less inappropriate to hug Dingus. The boy looked like he could use it: somehow smaller than usual. It wasn’t as weird with Kessa. She’d been kissing Vandis on the cheek almost since day one, and she didn’t have the same restlessness Dingus exuded. He settled for a hard squeeze on Dingus’s shoulder. “Soon, okay? Don’t worry.”
“See you soon.” Dingus hunched, looking like he wanted to say something more, but Vandis didn’t think he could stand to hear it and still leave. He let himself fall slowly back with a wave and a grin, which startled out the laugh he’d been hoping to hear.
He plummeted, guilt dragging him down, and at the last moment shot up and through the canopy, scattering needles behind him. Rain pattered off his protective wrapping of air—it kept him dry, for the most part, but a cloudburst or a hailstorm would leave him wet and bruised. As he climbed, he made a quick check of all his fastenings, buckles to bootlaces. Once he had everything secured to his satisfaction, he flattened his body, stroked his arms down to his sides, and blew into the low deck of clouds, curving eastward. From below, they looked like gray wool muffling the sky, but from within they were thick-soup fog. Once, he’d let himself fall through one, wanting to feel what it was like, but he’d regretted that in a hurry. It had soaked him, and up high was like the cold heart of Hell.
He burst through the cloud-top, leaving his own streak of condensation behind, and flew out of the sunset. There were times he pitied everyone he left on the ground, but in truth, he liked that nobody else had ever seen this, nor ever would. The world above the clouds was Vandis’s alone, his personal gift from his Lady. Down below, they might have a gloomy day with buckets of rain or piles of snow, but above there’d be sunshine every day, pure blue and pure white, except at sunup and sundown. Now Vandis’s little shadow zipped along ahead of him, a distorted dark patch on glorious, golden-edged mounds of soft purple, shocking pink, and hot orange. The air was clear and clean, sweet and chilly in his mouth and lungs.
Thank You for letting me see this, he said to Her, a prayer.
With whom else should I share it but My own Vandis? She answered him, and his heart leapt at the sound of Her voice.
I’m well out of Windish by now. Think I should pop over to Muscoda and scare the shit out of Lech Valitchka?
She gave Her wicked little laugh, the one that darted straight to places Vandis would rather ignore and reminded him of the things he hardly dared to think. I so truly love the way your mind works. I’m glad I chose you and that’s a fact—but all the same, I’d rather you not go. It would be terribly dangerous.
Oh, I don’t know, he said. I could just fly past his office window...
He’d soil himself. She cackled again and prodded at Vandis’s mind, giving him a strange, tickling sensation.
A broad smile stretched his lips. That he could please Her, even in the smallest of ways…
You do, My own. Speaking with you is such a pleasure. This time, Her mind-touch was more in the way of a caress.
Vandis flushed. He hadn’t meant for Her to pick that up. You’re right, though. It’d be dangerous. Besides, I want to get this over with. He turned himself slightly north and pressed his arms more tightly to his sides, willing more speed. Whatever force pushed at his forehead, he hurried to press past it. He never flew this fast over a city, or low to the ground; a couple of times he’d done it over Dreamport, and he couldn’t believe the bitching afterward. He’d never heard any loud noises, and he definitely didn’t remember breaking any windows.
Pressure rippled down his body, so fast he could hardly perceive the motion. He only felt squeezed, continuously, inside his thin air shield. It wasn’t precisely pleasant, but damn! His soul sang with the feeling of speed, and when the sky cleared beneath him, he saw the ground slipping away, mile after mile. Do You think they’ll be all right? he asked.
Worrywart, She murmured. Do you not trust them?
Of course I trust them. It’s everyone else I don’t trust. What if somebody hurts my kids?
Would they go unpunished?
Vandis snorted aloud. Hell, no. But that wouldn’t heal the wounds they took. It’d only help me, no matter who I pulped. And hadn’t that been a bitch to learn? He could hammer all the bailiffs he wanted, but it wouldn’t take Dingus’s nightmares away; he could thrash all the soldiers he felt like, but it wouldn’t return to Kessa what she’d lost. I can’t fix them, he thought to Her. I want to, but I can’t.
Kessa does quite well for herself.
Yeah, she does. He smiled, thinking of her: unbowed, whatever had happened to her. Unbroken. But…
Dingus, She finished.
I don’t know what You were thinking with that.
I don’t know what you think you’ve got to complain about.
I am not complaining.
Are you not, then? Because it sounds awfully like that to Me.
Vandis scowled and put on a little speed to keep from being caught in an updraft over the mountains. I can’t ask a question?
You surely may, but you weren’t.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed just a hair further to the north. Why the hell’d You choose me for him? I mean—You could’ve chosen someone who’s even halfway not an asshole. Somebody kind, and instead… me.
And aren’t you glad of it? She demanded.
You know that I am. Darkness unfurled over the mountain, and a silver splinter of Oda’s face began to carve its long slash in the dome of the sky. The stars glittered fiercely in the thin air around him. You know how I feel.
Oh, that you love him? Yes, I do know that.
He fought his desire to fidget. A little miscalculation up here could be deadly.
That’s why, She said. I knew you would.
Vandis muttered a wordless, crabby sound. There was a wash of light on the horizon now, soft and yellow, and at the speed he traveled, it exploded in front of him almost as soon as he saw it, blotting out the stars. With an effort of will, he braked, pack and cloak sliding forward until the buckles put a stop to it.
I knew he’d love you, too. And, My own, it was in My mind to give you that.
He cruised over Dreamport now, at the very limit of the city. The maw of the Pit yawned beneath him. The Pit had once been a granite quarry, deep and wide enough to have supplied stone for several of the castles, as well as for the royal palace complex, but two centuries ago the owners had abandoned it. The city’s destitute had moved in to fill the hole nobody else seemed to want. In the dark of night, it emitted a smoky, sullen red glow from hundreds of cheap-peat fires. It always nagged at him, even to glance at, and let off a smell that offended his nose despite how high he flew. Disease
crawled through the shacks in the Pit, and crime strutted peacock-proud in its depths. The Knights pumped a stream of money into the community there: missions, healthcare, suppers, and it never seemed to make a lick of difference.
He’d say they have it worse than he did, Vandis thought, but I can’t imagine having Dingus’s life any more than I can imagine living there.
He’s wise enough, for a young one, She said with satisfaction.
Yeah, he is. The city itself spilled out of a shimmering bowl: a huge volcanic crater with the seaward side collapsed. It flooded three fjords and part of a fourth. A multitude of blazing lighthouses warned any approaching ship of submerged rocks or fjord walls, and the traffic in and out of the harbors looked, from this altitude, like swarming fairies—or so Vandis imagined. She let an appreciative breath into his mind, and he smiled. The Ennis River cascaded over the landward side of the crater and drained into Crater Bay under the long shadow of the City Redwood, which had been planted—so it was said—on the very day of the founding. Even now, late at night, the complicated lift system that drew goods and passengers up the sides of the hollow mountain was in operation, and the wharves hummed with activity. Dreamport, the greatest city of Rothganar, never slept.
What was it like? he asked, soaring out to the black, gleaming sea over the hulk of the sewage treatment plant spangled with squatters’ lights. He banked into a wide turn to slow his flight and let himself drop to the level of the cliff tops.
You always ask Me that, She said, warming him with the affection in Her voice.
So? Tell me again. Please.
Like a star on the land. Bright and clean, it was, with the light of magic shining from clear glass globes along every street, and the cobbles so well laid you couldn’t slide more than a hair into the cracks between. And there was music… oh, everywhere. People had time, you see, for art.
As he flew back in overland, he passed Last Resort, the black-granite seat of Friedhelm. The castle sat on the promontory jutting out farthest from the crater, guarding the city from the sea, and a watchman on the highest tower waved a greeting to Vandis. He returned it. Friendly glow illuminated the arrow-slit windows along the top edge of what he knew to be the Great Hall and flowed across the balcony off the Duke’s apartments. He could land just there if he wanted to see His Grace, but he decided not to—not tonight. An audience with Marcus sounded utterly exhausting.
