by S Kaeth
“How dare you speak to us that way?” said one of the nobles. “We rule this City.”
“Only on our backs!”
There was a division here, just as there had been in the City of the Lost. The rich in their finery, and the rest of the people just trying to survive.
“How is that one alive, anyway? Did she not fall into the chasm?” another noble asked, pointing at Kaemada.
She pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders. “The Collective caught me.”
Tjodlik positioned himself nearby, his composure at odds with her worry. “I remind you, no harm may come to them until the Justices convene.”
“As Scouts are meant to keep order, I do hope you intend to address this appalling lack of order and legality among your own,” Dode said with a smile that spoke of danger.
Kaemada’s gaze flicked back and forth between the sides. So much danger lurked here, so much darkness and pain. But there was light, too. Those standing up for them like Rikr, Tjodlik, and Dode, even the Kamalti children playing with Eian. Or in the City of the Lost, when she’d been so out of her depth, when cruelty and kindness had been the opposite of what she’d expected, Elisabei and Reinan had helped her, twice.
Several of the Kamalti seemed to have no issue with them, and trading stories and songs last night had been somewhat enjoyable, even given their circumstances. It was the nobles who were more likely to scoff.
It was them she had to convince.
She scanned the nobles—mostly Scouts, Dode told her. They were an argumentative group: Dode and her comrades argued with Justices over legality while disgraced Scouts sat stiff and sullen. Answer often remained silent, shifting uncomfortably. Guilt and shame filled her face as she stared at Taunos’s bed. The woman’s eyes met hers, and all expression shut down, smoothed away to a hard mask and glinting eyes. A shudder crawled up Kaemada’s spine. Anyone but her. But apparently, she had power, and despite her role in the torment inflicted on the others, Answer’s eyes held the remorse that Theron’s eyes had lacked. She had failed to reach Theron, but if she could bring Answer to their side, with Dode’s allies as well, perhaps they had a chance.
Taunos stirred, and Answer stood, stalking out of the Hall.
Kaemada’s heart leapt as her brother winced and opened his eyes, then struggled to sit up.
“Will you lay down?” Elisabei snapped at him from Ra’ael’s bedside. She gave Kaemada a sharp look as if she were at fault. “I can see the family resemblance. Both of you seem to want more work for me.”
Kaemada smiled, squeezing his hand. “Her tongue may be sharp, but she’s a good healer.”
A soft groan escaped Taunos as he lay back down. “I will take your word for it.”
“How do you feel?” Her voice came out in a whisper, for she feared the answer.
“Thirsty.” He grimaced.
“Give him this,” one of the Kamalti Doctors said, pouring liquid into a cup and handing it to an underling.
Elisabei faced them, hands on her hips. “And what’s this?”
“It will relax them and subdue their magic, for the safety of us all.”
The glower on Elisabei’s face was fit to match a raging thunderstorm. “No wonder they’re not waking up! How often have you been slipping them these?”
“I do not want to be drugged,” Taunos growled. “I have spent the last six moons drugged against my will, and I have a craving for untainted drink.”
Tears pricked at Kaemada’s eyes. Was that why Takiyah had fallen back asleep so quickly? She ducked her head. At least she was awake now.
Glaring at the Doctors, Elisabei handed Taunos a water pouch, and he drank greedily. After handing it back, Taunos gripped Kaemada’s hand in both of his. He lay back down, weariness in his face and voice. “I knew it. I knew you were alive.”
She squeezed his hands again.
Takiyah leaned over, drawing Kaemada’s attention toward a commotion near Ra’ael’s stretcher. “Kae, what’s Eian doing?”
“What?”
Many of the nobles had left the room. The Kamalti Doctors and Elisabei were arguing, gesturing wildly as their fight escalated. Eian stood near them, babbling away.
“Listen,” Takiyah said.
“…know how to use it,” one of the Doctors was saying. “The machines take many circulations for even Kamalti to master.”
“It’s too complicated for you,” said Eian.
“You’re not going near her!” Elisabei snapped.
“I do not trust you,” said Eian.
“She is our patient. Where have you trained?”
“This is my territory,” said Eian.
“Life, in all its harshness,” Elisabei shot back.
“Experience taught me,” said Eian.
Takiyah turned to Kaemada. “He’s translating.”
Kaemada shook her head. “But there’s no need for that. They can understand each other!”
Takiyah frowned. “Listen to your son, Kaemada. It may be needless, but he’s translating what everyone knows is truly behind their words.”
How could she not have seen? “He… he read Kamalti writing. Only he said the book was wrong, but how could he know? And he seems to have some inkling of Kamalti customs—he told me to frown when I gave Tjodlik a compliment. And somehow, he opened doors into the mountain…”
“There is probably another explanation.” Taunos’s voice was weary, his eyes closed. “Is he telepathic?”
“I have tested him many times. He has no psionic abilities of any kind.”
“Perhaps he’s hiding them?” Takiyah asked.
Kaemada gave her a frank look. “How much control can a boy with only four summers have?”
“I would ask you.”
Kaemada shook her head. “Maybe this is something new. Why did we not see it before?”
Taunos chuckled, then grimaced as the chuckle turned into a cough. Kaemada quickly turned to him with water, which he sipped, then waved away with a grateful smile. “How much chance has he had to be absorbed in a conversation between two different cultures?”
Takiyah nodded. “If Eian had never gotten lost, we might never have known. But what does it mean?”
“They seem about to come to blows over there, cha’atanahn,” Taunos broke in, his eyes still closed.
Grateful for the distraction, she turned. Reinan stood behind his wife with his arms crossed while she gestured wildly, accentuating her words. The conversation had devolved to thinly veiled insults, with Eian in the middle.
“Shareil, shareil!” Kaemada stepped, stumbling a bit, between them with arms raised, close to Eian in case she had to whisk him out of harm’s way.
“Kanae, kanae!” Eian repeated, folding his arms over his chest.
Kaemada marveled at him. Of course Takiyah would notice it—she was always paying attention to the details.
“Not until they back down! Nae shareil!” Stubbornness radiated from the set of Elisabei’s shoulders.
“This is our home and our land and our equipment! We will not take orders from savages!” bellowed one of the Kamalti.
Everyone began shouting at once, striving to be heard despite Kaemada’s efforts to calm them. Pushing forward, one of the younger healers slipped and knocked a machine off the cart. It clattered to the floor with a clang, loud in the sudden silence as the Kamalti stopped to stare.
“…you better than me!” Elisabei finished her rant.
“You novice!” A Kamalti Doctor rounded on the younger man.
“My sincerest apologies!” He bowed his head and retreated. “I, I, I will pay…”
“You will pay for this? Do you know how precious it is? It is an invaluable piece of equipment!” The Doctor’s raised voice echoed across the Hall.
“I heard peace and quiet are good for healing. Apparently, there’s a different opinion among our healers here,” Taunos remarked lightly to Takiyah.
Takiyah’s whisper carried. “Kaemada has not said a word of the T
raveller’s Tongue. And she’s usually the one careful not to offend.”
Apprehension flooded her and she swallowed hard. Show no weakness, show no damage, her internal voice screamed. She had no Tannevar to help steady her, to add to her senses, to be strong together.
“I will ask her about it. Why would she risk offense?”
Takiyah snorted. “She will not tell you.”
Kaemada shook herself, focusing on the matter at hand. She would deal with Taunos and Takiyah later. Hopefully, much later. She gestured to the machine. “What is it?”
“Nothing you would understand,” the Doctor snapped. “It is advanced healing equipment.”
“Perhaps not,” admitted Kaemada as Eian translated for her. “But Takiyah is good with metal things. Could it hurt for her to take a look? After all, it’s already broken.”
“Do not let her. Either she will sabotage it, or she will steal our secrets,” another Doctor broke in anxiously.
Elisabei glowered. “If she sabotaged it then it would be no good for healing. Why would Takiyah destroy a machine that could save Ra’ael?”
The Doctor stared at her in fury, but before he could reply, the senior Doctor said, “I see no harm in letting her look. There are none with the skills to repair it, and if its secrets cannot be fully cracked by Kamalti scientists, I highly doubt a savage will glean any from it. It will keep her out of the way.”
Takiyah raised her eyebrows, but he seemed not to notice.
“Is it necessary?” Elisabei asked.
“The machine enhances the body’s natural healing properties, significantly shortening healing time and reducing the risk of death,” the novice said, eager to show off. His superiors glared at him for his troubles.
The crisis appeared to be over for now. Kaemada sank into her chair by Taunos’s cot as the Kamalti reverently set the machine before Takiyah. Eian crawled up beside her, looking on with bright eyes and occasionally pointing to things. Takiyah bent over it intently, now and then murmuring an instruction to Eian.
Takiyah indicated a part of the machine. “This powers it?”
With surprise evident on his face, the Kamalti Doctor nodded.
She traced something inside, tilting her head to see it at different angles. “This does not run on steam like many of your machines.”
Grudging respect seeped into the Doctor’s tone. “This is more ancient.” He leaned down by her to join in her inspection. “Is this your magic, understanding machines?”
Takiyah furrowed her brow at him but didn’t answer, instead continuing her inspection. The three of them huddled together, their voices falling to a murmur as Takiyah occasionally pointed to something or asked questions.
Perhaps it was a start. But there were still so many dangers. She didn’t want to think about that. Kaemada turned to Taunos. “Are you in any pain?”
He waved away her concern. “It’s fine. It reminds me I’m alive.”
“You’re bald.”
“I was an ebr to Answer’s family, and they thought my hair unseemly. I was required to shave it.” His eyes glinted as he grinned. “Maybe I will get some peace from being pressured to court, unless there are very many women who like bald heads.”
Her brother’s irrepressible good humor put her at ease, but her smile died as a tailosae climbed onto Taunos’s head, and began grooming its fur. She rubbed her eyes and tried to ignore it, making an effort to joke. “Or maybe you will find you’re even more desirable.”
“Oh, Eloí’s light, let it not be so!” He shifted to look at her. “Kaemada, are you alright? Why are you not speaking the Traveller’s Tongue? What is that you’re wearing?” He plucked at her shawl as he interrogated her.
Kaemada shook her head. Everything they’d been through while she’d languished in the palace, wondering when they were coming for her… She did not trust her voice around the lump in her throat. “It’s a shawl. They wear it in the City of the Lost—the people who live outside the palace, that is.”
Concern edged Taunos’s tone. “Kaemada, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Kaemada snapped. There couldn’t be a tailosae grinning at her.
Taunos frowned in annoyance. “Clearly, it’s not nothing. You’re wounded, you’re jumpy, and you’re only speaking Rinaryn. I do not see Tannevar… My deepest sympathies, sister.”
Kaemada shook her head.
“Are those handprints around your neck?” He struggled to sit up again. “Who hurt you, little sister?”
“It’s nothing! Do not hurt yourself.” Kaemada pushed him back down, shrugging the shawl higher up to cover her neck.
“It clearly isn’t nothing, Kaemada.”
“Please,” Kaemada whispered, trembling. She wrapped her shawl tightly around herself and steadfastly ignored her brother and the tailosae. His sympathy would be too much to bear, especially in the face of all they’d been through. There was no Tannevar there to keep her steady, only the pieces left of him in her song. Broken, like her.
She shut her eyes, clinging to those pieces. They deserved to know they couldn’t trust her. She couldn’t trust herself. Her shoulders were stiff as stone and the words came out reluctantly. “I keep seeing things that aren’t there. And I’m worried. For all of you. For Ra’ael.”
Ra’ael’s ragged breathing joined the murmur of Takiyah’s voice while her brother sat silently. She kept her eyes closed, kept herself stiff to be strong.
She could do this. She had to. She needed to make the connections, just as she would with another kaetal. But she didn’t know how this kaetal worked, and the City of the Lost had taught her that jumping in blindly to help often hurt, instead.
Kaemada opened her eyes. There was Dode, turning away from conversation with a noble by the door and walking back toward Ra’ael. She cleared her throat. “Dode, may I ask your thoughts on something?”
The elderly Kamalti didn’t answer, and Kaemada looked down at her hands, shoulders slumping.
“Cha’atanahn, you’re still speaking Rinaryn,” Taunos said.
She grimaced. Ah, yes. Yet another weakness.
“Would you like me to translate?” Taunos put his hand on her shoulder.
Kaemada fixed him with a fierce look. “If you say my words, not yours.”
His eyes held apprehension, but he smiled. “Of course, little sister. Are you alright?”
She clenched her jaw, managing a jerky nod. By the way he raised his eyebrows at her, he saw through her lie, but he called out to Dode instead of questioning her further. “Dode, my sister would like to ask your thoughts.”
Dode’s browridge raised in surprise as she approached. “Of course. How may I help?”
“Thank you for all you have done. I wish to reach out, to help change your people’s views of my people.”
Taunos grinned at her as he translated.
Locking eyes with her brother, Kaemada continued. “I thought I might start with Answer.”
Anger and ferocity swept the grin from her brother’s face, but though his misgivings were clear on his face, he translated faithfully.
Dode’s voice was calm. “There is a chance you could get past her pride and offense. If so, that might help tip things in the desired direction.”
Tugging on her shawl as if that would help her maintain her composure, Kaemada nodded. “How would I set up a meeting with her to soothe ruffled feathers?”
“Ruffled feathers?”
“To calm any hurt feelings. Like her wounded pride.”
“Ah, I see. An honorable sentiment.”
“Is there a specific way your people apologize?”
Taunos interrupted. “You do not need to apologize, little sister.”
“It will not be the first time I have apologized for my brother.” Her smile broadened as his expression became troubled, and then he sighed.
“Just be careful. Please, Dode, make certain nothing happens to my sister.” Taunos sounded strained as he took Kaemada’s hand.
&nbs
p; Dode nodded. “You will not use words, for to verbalize such emotions would be crude and vulgar. Instead, you will give gifts of crystals, a much more refined method of communication. Each crystal has a specific meaning, so you will need to buy certain colors and shapes.”
“You will need money,” Taunos prompted. “Our people do not use money.”
Dode waved a hand. “I will provide it for you.”
Kaemada hesitated, searching her unusual features. “Is it a good idea?”
Dode’s smile broadened. “It is. I will set up the meeting and have Tjodlik take you to buy crystals in the morning.” She patted her hand and then stood.
One of the Scouts standing guard by the door scowled at Dode as she approached. “The Outsiders may not roam our City. They have caused quite enough chaos, Philosopher Dode.”
Dode scoffed. “One would have to be blind not to see! But at least our chapels are safe from them.”
The Scout stiffened. “If they had not been in the chapel, it would not have been torn down.”
“At last, you admit your anti-civic attitude.”
The Scout scowled. “Your attack on the Scouts will not succeed, Lady Dode.”
Dode raised her browridge again. “Your lawlessness will not succeed, Scout.” She stalked out.
Kaemada turned to her brother, forcing a smile she didn’t really feel and covering him with a blanket as he laid down, her hand caught in his. Connected.
Connecting with the Kamalti where there was already so much enmity, so much bad blood… Fear and self-doubt still paralyzed her, and yet, she couldn’t stand to do nothing. She had to do whatever she could—even small deeds—to bring a little brightness to their song, to turn the Kamalti toward peace.
Where there was a potential connection, she could build a true one. She’d done it enough at home, mediating between disagreements. She just had to be careful not to repeat her mistakes.
They needed the goodwill of the Kamalti to go home. Even more, her people as a whole needed the Kamalti. They had technology and weapons that could help keep her people safe from the Darks. They had resources, and the fighters among them were good—she well remembered fighting them. But the Kamalti needed them, too—their freedom, their flexibility, their casual peace, the open air and broad spaces. They just didn’t know it yet.
