Dangerous Gifts

by Gaie Sebold

  “Babylon?” Laney said. “Babylon, darling, it’ll be all right. I mean, it’s Tesserane silk. Everyone knows it’s the best. That’s why everyone was willing to give me money, to buy lots of it. I don’t understand why you’re all so cross.”

  “Because, Laney, investing money like that is for people who understand money. And markets, and trade, and things like that. Which you don’t. And neither do I. And now,” I said. “We not only have no money, we owe an awful lot of it to an awful lot of people who are going to be very, very unhappy if they don’t get it back.”

  “Do you have any idea how many things can happen to a cargo of silk that has to come so far?” Ireq said. “Fire. Rats. Moth. Bandits. Civil war.”

  Something at the back of my mind tolled an ominous little bell. At the same time, my gut, already clenched, clenched tighter.

  “Oh,” Laney said. She looked at her nails, then sighed heavily. “Well, then. I shall have to talk to the family, I suppose. Daddy will...”

  “No.” The chorus was unanimous, even from Jivrais. Laney looked up, startled.

  “Laney,” I said, as gently as possible. “You don’t want to do that.”

  “Well, no, I don’t, but...”

  “Laney. Listen. I know things are... tricky, between you and your family. But that’s only part of it.” I was trying to think of a tactful way to put things when Jivrais forestalled me, only somewhat missing the tactful part.

  “Laney, sweetie. You borrowed money from people who can walk through King of Stone at three in the morning, unarmed, and out the other end because even the Kingsters don’t dare touch them. And the only thing worse than being in debt to them is being in debt to Fey.” He shuddered theatrically. “At least your standard loan-shark only cuts bits off if you can’t pay. They don’t make them grow back a completely different shape.”

  “Oh,” Laney said.

  “Or fill your eyes with bees. Or make you serve them for the next two hundred years, wearing your pants on your head. Or someone else’s pants. Or...”

  “Jivrais,” I said. “That’s enough.”

  Laney’s eyes were glimmering with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought it would solve everything.”

  “I know, Laney. But next time you want to help, just... ask one of us first if it’s a good idea, all right?” That little warning bell at the back of my head was now ringing a loud, persistent alarm.

  Civil war. I looked at Ireq. Silk route.

  Fain’s voice. ‘Enthemmerlee... is the best hope for stability that Incandress has.’

  “Oh, buggery crap,” I said.

  “What?” Flower said.

  “I think I’m going to Incandress.”

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  “YOU CHANGED YOUR mind,” Enthemmerlee said.

  It was a different room, but I could see the silvery dust of wards on the windows this time, as well as the door. Obviously things in the Section had got no better, as far as Fain was concerned.

  “Yes,” I said. “I changed my mind.”

  They were all looking at me; their faces were unreadable apart from Malleay, who was scowling fiercely. “Why?” he said.

  “I have my reasons. If you still want me.”

  I tried not to look at Fain, wondering if he knew about the mess Laney had got us in, and if not, how long it would be before he did.

  “Enthemmerlee,” Malleay said.

  “Yes?”

  “‘I have my reasons?’ How do we know what those reasons are? If we can buy her loyalty, so can someone else.”

  He had, although I hated to admit it, a point. Over the years I had developed my own set of rules about who I sold my sword to and exactly what loyalty that bought, but a sellsword I had been, and now was again. There’s a reason “mercenary” is an insult.

  I shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t want to see a civil war in Incandress.”

  “You wouldn’t see it if you stayed here,” Malleay said.

  I looked at Enthemmerlee. What was I going to do if they turned me down? I would have to travel to Incandress myself, try to find the trade caravan... even if I could catch up with it, the chances of getting hired as a guard, if I simply turned up, with no references... if I did get hired, that didn’t bode well for the security of the caravan. If I didn’t...

  My stomach clenched on acid emptiness. I could lose the Lantern; and where would my crew go?

  “Rikkinnet?” Enthemmerlee said.

  Rikkinnet looked at me for a long time, cold-eyed. “And if the stability of our country suddenly does not look so attractive, then where will your loyalty lie?”

  “I can assure you,” Fain said, “I have every reason to believe that Madam Steel has at heart the best interests of the Lady Enthemmerlee the Itnunnacklish.” He gave me a sharp look; no, he hadn’t forgotten the oath I’d made him take.

  “Lobik?” Malleay said.

  They all turned to look at the Ikinchli, even Fain.

  Lobik was leaning back in his chair, watching me. He rested his hand along his jaw, thumb pressing against the corner of his mouth. His eyes were calm. “I think we should remember that Madam Steel helped Enthemmerlee before, when she did not know who she was. Yes, firstly for money, but then, when she realised the situation, she did her best to provide protection even though she could have lost by it. I believe she was, and is, a person of honour.”

  I looked at Enthemmerlee. She frowned down at the table, then up at me. “I will trust you.”

  “I don’t know if I can do everything you want of me,” I said. “I don’t know about training up your guard. I don’t know if I can keep you safe. I can promise I will try my best.”

  “That is all that can be asked of any of us, is it not?” She smiled then, brilliant as the sun coming out, and despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile back. It wasn’t all relief, either. I liked the girl.

  “So what else do I need to know?” I said.

  Lobik said, “What is your feeling about snakes?”

  “Snakes? How do you mean, how do I feel about them? I’ve never had a lot to do with them. Why?”

  “I understand some humans find them disturbing.”

  “I’d find one disturbing if it bit me, otherwise, I’m happy to leave them alone if they leave me alone. Again, why?”

  “They are, in a manner of speaking, pets among the Gudain.”

  “Pets,” Rikkinnet said, and snorted. “That is one word for it.” She flicked her long blue tongue out through her teeth.

  Lobik shook his head at her, but was fighting a grin.

  “Fine,” I said, wondering what was funny. Snakes I didn’t mind. Beetles, on the other hand... “But are there other things I need to know? Rules of behaviour? Things that must or mustn’t be done?” I’d spent enough time in various courts that I knew how easy it was to trip over the etiquette.

  “Life among the Ten Families is generally quite formal,” Enthemmerlee said.

  “Not ‘quite,’” Malleay snapped. “Ridiculously. Degrees of this, degrees of that. Depth of the bow. Forms of address. Given my way...”

  “Given your way you would sweep it all aside,” Enthemmerlee said, smiling at him. “And I would no longer be Enthemmerlee Defarlane Lathrit en Scona Entaire the Itnunnacklish. Which would be a relief for those who have to learn our names, I am sure.”

  “Is easy,” Rikkinnet said, snapping the words out like the cracks of a whip. “Do as we Ikinchli have always done. Smile, say ‘sir’ and ‘madam,’ bow. Treat every Gudain as superior. Then, if you are lucky, no one beats you because they have had a bad day or someone’s spilled their drink.”

  There was a silence, then Lobik said, “I don’t think anyone is going to try and beat Madam Steel over a spilled drink. Though I think would be fun to watch them try, no?” He turned to Rikkinnet, and said something softly in Ikinchli.

  She hissed.

  He said something else.

  She turned to the rest of us, and said, he
r voice tight, “Lobik reminds me that those here are not responsible for the past, and that we look to the future.”

  “The past leaves scars,” I said, and didn’t realise until I saw Fain’s eyes following the move that I was rubbing my own scar, the one on my jaw, symbol of the Goddess Babaska.

  “Yes,” Lobik said. “And we will not deny the injuries that caused them. But if all we can see is scars, we will never see anything but the past, and the future will slip away while we lick over old wounds.”

  “True enough,” I said. However, they are supposed to fade with time. They’re not supposed to do what mine had, which was disappear and then come back.

  And sometimes, it itched. And sometimes, when it itched, I felt a buzz in the back of my head, as though an insect were trying to gnaw its way in.

  I had been the Goddess Babaska’s Avatar. It had been a stolen power, and I’d given it up willingly; but I wasn’t quite sure she’d given me up.

  I pushed it out of my mind, as I was in the habit of doing. “So, what else do I need to know?”

  “There are certain formalities to social occasions,” Enthemmerlee said. “But as a...” She broke off. “You will not be expected to know them all.”

  “Ah, well, I won’t be eating with you. Not at the same time. I shall be on guard.”

  “You’ll need to watch out for the Fenac,” Malleay said. “Though you look enough like Gudain that they might not haul you in just for the sake of it.”

  “They’re your Militia, yes?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Enthemmerlee said. “They are in need of reform. Like so much else.” She sighed. “Almost all Fenac are Gudain. If there is trouble, they look at the Ikinchli first.”

  Which didn’t mean they wouldn’t look at a handy foreigner, such as me, if there was trouble. I hoped I could keep out of their way.

  “The few Ikinchli Fenac, most of them are tic dricancai,” Rikkinnet muttered. Malleay looked slightly horrified; his mouth opened, but he shut it again.

  Before I had a chance to ask what tic dricancai meant, Lobik said, “The uniform is a dark brown tunic, brown leggings, and a low round helmet. You will hear them called guak, but this is not wise to say if they can hear.”

  “Not if it means what I think it means,” I said. “Gotcha.”

  “There is one other thing. The way we dress, normally, is quite covered,” Enthemmerlee said. She glanced down at my cleavage and away, quickly.

  “I will be more covered,” I assured her. Exposed flesh is strictly for non-lethal situations. I have worn chain-mail underwear and nothing else but boots, but only in the bedroom. What can I say? Some people have funny ideas about armour.

  “There is a reason the clothing is very covering,” Lobik said.

  Malleay stared at the table. Enthemmerlee had a faint pearly-green flush along her cheekbones. Lobik went on. “The Gudain... they do not touch, in public. And” – he glanced apologetically at Enthemmerlee – “Sex, this is not spoken of, you understand?”

  “Yes, I’ve been told,” I said.

  “I need to be clear,” Lobik said. “They do not mention, ever. Even to speak of marriage except in the most formalised way, this is disapproved, because it implies that the sex will be had. Pregnancy is not mentioned. Nothing with any connection whatever. There are many, many laws governing behaviour, and they are enforced by the Moral Statutes. They do not usually apply to Ikinchli, because in law, we are still largely considered animals, and therefore beyond moral reform, but for the purposes of your visit you would have many of the privileges of a Gudain, and it would be wise to be... circumspect.”

  “Oookay. I assume I shouldn’t mention my profession, then?”

  “Your profession?” Enthemmerlee said.

  Hoo, boy.

  “Er...” I said. “I sort of thought you knew.”

  “It has something to do with...” She stopped.

  If it was difficult for her to even say the word, I wondered just how she had brought herself to do the deed with two men of different species. And if neither Enthemmerlee nor Malleay could actually bring themselves to mention what it was they were supposed to be doing, how had they done it at all?

  “Yes. It has to do with that,” I said. “For money. That’s how I make my living, generally. You understand?”

  “Oh.” Her blush deepened until it was a glowing jade. It made her look very pretty. “I see. Yes, it would be best that it was not mentioned.”

  “Well,” Fain said, into the echoing silence that followed. “I believe that concludes the business for now. Is everyone happy?”

  I wasn’t sure “happy” was the word, but no one seemed to have anything else to say. Lobik and Rikkinnet seemed amused but unfazed, but Malleay’s eyes and mouth had gone completely circular; I looked at him and, perhaps unfairly, smiled. His mouth snapped shut, his own deep green blush rising up his neck as though he were drowning. He really was cute. Oversensitive, touchy, and sulky as a wet cat, but cute, nonetheless. I wondered idly what he’d look like out of those dreadful clothes.

  “In that case,” Fain said. “If you would come with me, Madam Steel?” He pointed towards his office. “I need a few words with you.”

  “You’re the client,” I said.

  He led the way and locked the door behind us. “Well, are you going to tell me why you changed your mind?”

  “You’ll probably find out soon enough. Let’s just say I really, really don’t want to see Incandress descend into civil war, especially within the next week or so. Will that do?”

  He looked me over. “It will. For now. However” – his eyes were cold – “I do not have a Fey oath to put on you, Madam Steel, but rest assured that I do have every expectation you will do your best to fulfil your part of this bargain.”

  “I intend to.”

  “I do hope so.”

  “So what exactly do you want from me, Mr Fain?”

  “Firstly, the ship is the Delaney’s Promise, leaving through Bealach, two days from now on the afternoon tide.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Once you arrive on Incandress, I want you to keep your ears open. Everyone knows the situation is volatile; most people who do not have to stay will have left, or be leaving. Unless they have serious investments in the area or are clinging on there for other reasons. I want you to watch for unusual alliances; unexpected encouragement for one side or the other to push things to open confrontation.”

  “You mean you think there are people who want it to come to war? Why?”

  “There have been some unusual trading patterns.”

  “Trading patterns?”

  “Yes. I believe there may be people with an interest in the outcome of the situation on Incandress, an interest that may not be to the best advantage of its people.”

  “Can you forget you’re in the Diplomatic Section long enough for you to tell me, in plain language, what you’re actually talking about?”

  He smiled a little. “I’m sorry. Very well. Someone is buying grain; a great deal of it. I’m not sure who; a conglomerate, perhaps, or a single person acting through intermediaries. But they may be planning to profiteer: to sell at inflated prices to desperate people with few crops or stores of their own after a civil war. And it is not unknown, in these situations, for people to nudge things.”

  “War could make someone a profit.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Oh, great.” The little couch creaked in protest as I sat down. I knew how it felt. “Has this anything to do with why you’ve got wards slapped up all over the place?”

  “I am merely taking precautions.”

  “As if things weren’t bad enough. Fain, I don’t see how I’m supposed to do this as well as look after Enthemmerlee.” Not to mention finding the silk cargo. “I don’t even know anything about grain trading.”

  “You know about war. And you have a capacity for engaging people which could be extremely useful.”

  “You did hear what Lob
ik said, I take it?”

  “It would be insulting to assume that your ability to make friends is confined to the bedroom, Madam Steel. After all, Enthemmerlee regards you as a friend, and you have not slept with her.” He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Or so I assume.”

  I coughed. “Point taken.”

  “All I want you to do is listen,” Fain said.

  Well, if I couldn’t do that, I’d be out of a job. “So what do I do if I find out anything?”

  “Get a message to me. We have arrangements with the Empire’s courier service.” He gave me instructions. I was to write to him (not, obviously, under his own name), as though discussing arrangements for an exotic party, with several of my crew providing entertainment and Flower doing the cooking.

  That level of deception I thought I could manage.

  “Now. You haven’t met any of Enthemmerlee’s family, have you?” Fain said.

  “No. I didn’t get the impression they were terribly happy about her transformation, though.”

  “Would you expect them to be?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose not.”

  “Her father is Lord Enboryay. He is one of the Advisors to the Crown; the eldest of each generation of the Ten Families undergoes Patinarai and becomes an Advisor, unless there are exceptional circumstances which render them unsuitable. Enboryay is not one for great intrigue, so far as I have been able to discover; he is mainly concerned with his estates, and likes things the way they are. He breeds racing beasts. I would say the turn of events has left him largely bewildered.”

  “The others?”

  “Selinecree, the aunt. She seemed even more bewildered than her brother, but despite the circumstances, she appeared to enjoy her time on Scalentine; even after the transformation had taken place, I saw her at some social functions before they returned to Incandress.”

  “Oh, yes, I think I may have seen her at the Roundhouse Tower. I thought Gudain didn’t like foreigners?”

  “They may not, but they do receive foreign traders. They are on a major Perindi Empire trade route, so they could hardly do otherwise.”

  “Who else?” I said.