by L. K. Rigel
She broke the seal on Celia’s message,
Mallory. When you get back to the City, attend to your daggers and totem. Great gods, your first counselor is three years old. It’s shocking. If Garrick files a protest in this matter, he will win. He could have your verdict set aside and demand that you complete his contract.
Shibbit, Celia was right. A pit of fear formed in Mal’s stomach. As soon as she got back to Red City, she’d visit the blade master. She’d have Quidel put on her totem and Allel’s bee at the same time. She hated the idea of sending Garrick something so fine as Palada’s carved blue amber dagger hilt, but it had to be done.
Saskia returned to the stage holding an infant in her arms. It was a cute little thing, with Mal’s brown eyes and Edmund’s dark curls. Céilidh. Well done, Mal.
I wonder what the other one looks like. The thought came unbidden, and she quickly pushed it from her mind.
When Edmund and Counselor came on stage, Céilidh’s face lit up. Saskia handed her over to Counselor – with great relief, Mal noticed.
Jannes bounded up the stairs and bowed to Edmund and Counselor with deference but also with self-respect. Jannes was like Pala, not a mindless follower like most of the guards in Garrick. Garrick inspired no one’s devotion. Not even, Mal suspected, Lady Bron’s. Garrick ruled through fear, Edmund through mutual respect – and love.
She had to finish this contract and get away. Away from Allel, away from counselors who were like sisters, away from cute little children. Away from Edmund. Otherwise, her life as a chalice – a life she wanted, that she was lucky to have, a life every female dreamed of – would become too horrible to bear.
“Citizens of Allel, tonight we celebrate good news. The best news. We have our princess, Céilidh.” Edmund took the child from Counselor, kissed her, and blew a raspberry on her neck. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his head. It still seemed odd that he had named her and called her his princess.
The crowd shouted rahs! for Edmund and Céilidh.
“And thanks to Jannes, our brood queen is safe!”
Here it came: To Jannes – Rah!
Edmund seemed preoccupied, not as happy as Mal had expected. Surely Saskia had confirmed the pregnancy to him.
“Celia has rewarded Jannes with three weeks on the grid.” Astonished silence, then a guard yelled “to the regent!” and the crowd answered “Rah!”
Behind Mal, Day One murmured, “They’re dreaming of hot showers and evenly baked bread.” Mal took her access to power for granted, but she hadn’t forgotten the hunger and the filth of settlement life and how much better a little electricity made everything.
“I am sure all of Allel is grateful to Jannes.”
There were tears in Edmund’s eyes. He loves them. He had been their servant all his life, but for the past nine years he had lived with no wish more important than to defend and protect Allel’s interests.
In Garrick – and in most cities, from what Mal heard – the best most citadellers hoped for was to have enough to eat and that their children come through the liminal gauntlet with souls. If their king were replaced, the entire city, high and low, would cheer for the next one.
But not Allel. These people loved Edmund because they believed he loved them. And the miracle of it was, he did.
“Jannes has earned our love and gratitude.”
But something odd was going on here. Edmund was giving more credit than Jannes deserved.
“From this day, he is secure in his position, in his household, in his wealth. He is given an irrevocable estate with hives, fields, and fishing rights unto himself and his heirs thereafter. He is entitled to be called my lord.”
Edmund had just created Jannes an aristocrat.
The people went crazy with their “rahs!” Jannes’ men slapped each other on the backs and stomped their approval. Tomorrow in households throughout Allel, every parent with a marriageable daughter would proclaim they’d always believed Jannes was destined for glory.
Counselor’s face was a blank. She didn’t look at Jannes or anyone. Mal’s heart went out to her. Edmund might agree to her taking a lover, but never a husband. A tribunal would slap sanctions on Allel in the blink of an eye if its counselor married.
Poor Counselor. At least Mal could leave Edmund and go on to other contracts, other cities. Counselor would see Jannes every day of her life.
A commotion broke out at the back of the hall. Some shouted get out! And others said let her through! The people standing in the doorway separated, and the Ptery from the Horus tent shuffled up an aisle toward the stage.
The Ptery stopped halfway down the aisle, looked up at Mal, and pointed a shaking finger. “What did you see?” Her white eyes were wide and bright and terrifying. Céilidh started to cry. That wasn’t so cute.
Again the Ptery hissed. “What did you see there?”
Edmund growled something under his breath, and Jannes’ men swarmed up the aisle to the Ptery. One guard lifted her and carried her out of the theater. Edmund handed Céilidh to Counselor and walked forward on the stage as the Allels regarded Mal with confusion. Should they be worried about their brood queen after all?
“My lord.” Saskia stepped forward, drawing attention back to the stage. “I am humbled to inform you that I have an announcement to make.”
The room fell dead silent with electric anticipation. These words from a king’s physician had but one meaning. The Days and Nights squealed, then immediately tried to look as if they were in on the news all along. Four guards entered the box and assumed an alert stance.
“We are ready to hear you.” With the ceremonial reply, pandemonium let loose. No one needed to hear Saskia say: The brood queen is carrying the king’s second child, a male.
They were crazier with joy than when she had announced the future counselor. This second child would complete the pair and ensure the next generation of the city’s rulers. Continuity leads to prosperity. Tradition ensures peace.
Until this moment, “service” was just the pretty word she put on her random luck. Because she could breed naturally, every good thing was hers for the taking.
My lady likes mandarins? These have the sweetest juices and no seeds at all! Feel this fine Zhongguó silk against your lovely skin! Drink this exquisite pinot noir from the Novato coast! Have a warm bath every day of your life – scented with ylang-ylang!
And what she gave was indeed a service. Lives would improve because of the two natural children she bred. With the succession secure, Allel would be free of challenges for another generation. Resources could be spent on the well-being of the people instead of defending against those challenges or on the draining price and expense of a brood queen.
There was no controlling the Allels now. They were delirious. Someone started a song and the rest of the crowd picked it up. It was probably the city’s anthem, but it sounded like a drinking song.
Edmund glanced up at her and she smiled, but he only nodded in a pleasant, business-like way. As Counselor and Saskia left the stage with Céilidh, Edmund signaled the guards in the box. He was angry with her for going to the mad bog, and he was right.
Two guards lifted her and swept her out of the box. They carried her down passages she didn’t recognize, the LOTHs running behind. Her feet didn’t touch the floor until they were back at her suite.
-oOo-
Was that me? Mal sat upright with the sense that someone had just spoken. More like screamed. But she was alone in her room with the scream’s fading echo.
She drew in several deep cleansing breaths and got out of bed. Through the window, the scorpion lay low on the horizon. Sunrise was an hour away. Only a short time ago, she’d been caught up in the assembly’s euphoria. For a moment, she’d even loved the Days and Nights. Thank the gods that had passed.
Without getting a light, she went to the outer chamber. The Nights weren’t there, but someone was sitting on the bench in front of the fire.
“Identify yourself.”
“Saskia. Is everything all right?”
“I woke from a dead sleep and realized I hadn’t reviewed your provisions. Your LOTHs have gone to make sure there are enough biscuits and green tea packed for your voyage.”
“But that won’t be for days yet.”
“Hours, I’m told. Apparently Garrick’s plots have thickened.”
“You said my voyage. Aren’t you coming?”
“Ah. No. I agreed to be your KP in Allel, but I will never return to the City. Don’t worry. You’ll have Harriet there, and I’ll be here for your lying-in. I’ll have a lovely vacation in Allel while you gestate back at the mother ship.”
Even for Saskia, and even in the firelight, she was pale. “You don’t look well.”
“You told me there is a soul.”
“Yes.” This was a good time to talk about it, with the Nights gone. “I wanted to ask you if there’s anything I need to be careful of or do differently.”
“Mallory, I just checked. There is no soul.”
“My lady.” Night One bustled in followed by maids and porters. “I’m so glad we didn’t have to wake you.”
Night Two followed. “Jannes says you’re to leave before the sun rises.” They were like two dueling conductors, issuing conflicting orders about Mal’s luggage. Who could think of luggage after what she just heard?
Saskia took charge. “And did Jannes say to use maids and porters? I think not. Send them away. You’ll pack my lady’s things yourselves.”
The LOTHs weren’t about to argue with Saskia. They chased the servants away with glares and scurried off to pack.
Mal grabbed Saskia’s hand.
“What do you mean, no soul? I was there. It happened. I’m not happy about it, but it did happen.”
“I know about early ensoulment. It’s more common that you’d think. I thought I should check. I figured it would be easiest on you if you were asleep.”
That’s what had awakened Mal, and that’s why Saskia had looked so awful sitting by the fire.
“I tried. Several times. There’s nothing there.”
“It was there. I swear it.”
“I believe you. It isn’t there now.”
“That’s doesn’t make sense.” The fire was too hot. “What am I going to do?”
Saskia sat down beside her. “I don’t know. When Edmund goes to the City for the soul ceremony, maybe you can get another one?”
“That sounds creepy. Maybe I was wrong about it.”
Twenty minutes later on the administration roof, she was secure in the same carrier that figured in yesterday’s rescue. The Nights waited on the tarmac for her to go, likely as glad to get away from her as she was to get away from them.
And she was glad to be leaving. She had to put a stop to these feelings for Edmund. And at Red City she could do her own research on ensoulment. Nin would help her. Harriet had been a physician for a long time; maybe she would know something. That’s all she needed, to see her friends again, Nin and Harriet and the hubbies. She needed to remember who she was.
Jannes ran onto the tarmac and yelled something to Saskia and the Nights. The Nights appeared shocked and headed for the citadel. Saskia waved to Mal and ran after the LOTHs. The aircraft lifted off the ground as Jannes jumped inside.
As they rose above the citadel, all the lights in the city came on. It was a magnificent gesture, but Edmund shouldn’t have wasted so much power. A personal farewell would have been nice. She already missed him. It was much easier to leave a client when you couldn’t stand his guts.
Once they were in the air, Jannes came back from the cockpit. The aircraft was tiny, smaller than Garrick’s personal shuttle. The word airship didn’t fit. It was closer to an air boat. Air dinghy?
Jannes took the facing seat, continuously shifting his position. “We’ll set down on the Golden Wasp at sea. The harbor is vulnerable, so Captain Serna took her out. There’s space on deck for a stinger.”
“Stinger?”
Jannes smiled. “Counselor suggested the name. It’s what we’re calling these little guys. As you saw, we’ve built a tarmac to hold fifty – though as yet we only have a half dozen. We’ll need a proper dirigidock for the airship, but Harold won’t finish building that for months.”
“What are the stingers for? Besides rescuing wayward breeders, I mean.”
“Search and rescue is a main function. Transporting injured workers to the medical center. Day trips to the settlements.”
“Allel has settlements?” That was disconcerting. Jannes looked out the window as if he’d seen an interesting cloud. He wasn’t very smooth at changing the subject, but she didn’t push him. “I imagine you’d rather be in Allel than here watching over me.”
“At the moment, you are Allel.” In a sense, true. But not convincing.
“You were shouting on the tarmac. What was going on?”
“It isn’t good for you to worry.”
Oh, great. “The truth, Jannes. Otherwise, I’ll imagine worse.”
“Let’s put it this way. When we get to the Golden Wasp, I won’t want any ceremonial tea. I need to drop you on the deck and fly.”
“What is it?”
“An assassin tried to strike little Céilidh tonight – I should have said first: she’s safe. The attempt failed. But we know nothing, really. Was there only one? Was Céilidh the only target, or were they after you? That’s why the king tripped the grid, to blind anybody who might try to sabotage your departure.”
Oh.
“Who would have ordered such a thing?” Jannes was truly scandalized. “Even Garrick wouldn’t wish for the death of a royal child.”
But Mal knew better.
The Counselors’ Daggers
A proof slapped a note down on the bistro table and ran off before Mal could thank him. Claire scoffed. “They’re nearly out of control since the Matriarch gave Father Jesse sanctuary.” She nodded toward the top of the admin tower and Durga’s suites. “Don’t they know what’s going on down here?”
“Why don’t you accept a bid and get out of the City for a while?” Roh said. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“Will you be coming back?” Mal picked up the note, only half joking. Kairo was still in country two years after delivering Hibernia’s future king and refused to come back.
It was a matter of family honor, she said. Her brother was a priest of Asherah. She could not live in Red City with that Samaeli running around as the Matriarch’s guest, great gods. He’d only been in Red City for two months, but Kairo said that wasn’t the point.
Mal last saw Kairo boarding the Angel’s Harp to go to her second lying-in. She strode across the bridge to the airship wearing the ancient Celtic circlet like an official coronet. It had become part of her permanent costume.
As usual, King Harold had skipped along behind her. With Delilah panting on his arm, the grinning king had looked more youthful than ever. It was a nice juicy scandal, and Red City had been nearly forced to convene a tribunal.
But when Father Jesse showed up in Red City, of all places, begging for sanctuary, the gossip switched from Kairo’s love match to the priest’s story. He claimed that during his sabbatical – or time on the lam, as Roh put it – Garrick had threatened his life over his testimony at Mal’s tribunal.
Don’t blame yourself for Father Jesse being there, Kairo had written, Durga should have refused him.
Mal didn’t blame herself, but she stayed in the residence tower to avoid the priest. Whenever she went stir crazy, she’d slip out to the arcade or bistro; but it never took long before she sensed Father Jesse trying to get into her mind.
At first, she thought he used his psychic powers, such as they were, to find her. Then she realized he had recruited some of the proofs to be his eyes and ears. One advantage to the whole thing, she had honed her ability to put up the mental shield wall.
A gust of wind whooshed through the trees on the quad’s perimeter. The rust
ling leaves made her restless. She had to get out of the compound, take a run up the mountain. She longed to listen to the songbirds and watch the bay from Corcovado.
Corcovado, where she had not made love to an Empani.
“There’s a seal on that.” Nin plucked the note from Mal’s hand. “Are you in trouble again?”
“Great gods.” Her heart was in her throat. “My daggers.”
“Are you kidding?” Claire twisted her upper torso and flexed her entire left shoulder girdle. She pulled aside her strap for full exposure. She was the most ripped of them all, and her totem was splendid overlaying all that muscle: a fierce old-world-style angel with a sword of fire. “I’m the only one who follows the rules around here, and all I ever hear is hey, hormone girl.”
“In your imagination!” Roh flexed her chaos star. “I’ve sent out both my daggers, hormone girl.”
“This is bad, Mal.” Nin returned the note. It did have a seal – the tribunal seal.
“I know, I know, I know.” Might as well open it. “But I can’t have the totem put on until after I deliver this one.” She patted her belly. “No way I’m being branded without a laudanum chaser.” She broke the seal and read the note. She caught her breath.
“Shib, princess, what does it say?” Claire’s voice softened slightly.
“Garrick’s filed a formal complaint. I have to deliver the dagger, or the tribunal will reopen his case.”
“I have no sympathy for you.” Claire threw her hands up. “You’ve had ages to do this. Go to the blade master right now – I don’t suppose your hilt jewels are ready?”
“Yes, as it happens.” Thank Asherah for Palada.
“Well, there’s that.”
“You’d better do it, Mal.” Nin was right. Putting it off any long was just stupid. “We’ll save you a seat.”
She hadn’t discussed her soul problem with Nin after all. There were no instances of a breeder losing a soul anywhere in the literature. Not that she’d been able to find, anyway. The more time went by, the more she convinced herself that she had to have been mistaken.
“A seat?” Claire searched all their faces. “No. Don’t tell me. You’re going to the amphitheater?”
