Carousel Seas – eARC

by Sharon Lee

  “Mr. Ignat’ seemed to think so. ’Course that was before the Wise served warning on us.”

  Gran tipped her head, apparently regarding the decoy bindings, and the bogus soul-light.

  “Perhaps…” she said, then shook her head. “No, leave them. It won’t be that much longer, and we don’t want to spike Aesgyr’s guns.”

  “You know the prince?” I asked, as we continued the tour.

  “No, but Bel—oh, ridiculous bird!” She stopped with her hands on her hips, shaking her head at the rooster, in either reproof or regret. “Kate, I can’t believe…”

  “Yes, you can; he’s right there. Go put your hand on him if you don’t believe it.”

  She sighed, but to my surprise, she did walk forward and laid a hand on the saddle.

  “Fiberglass.” She shook her head again.

  “Hey, I was desperate. But here’s the good news—we ought to have the new, carved horse here just in time to close for the Season.”

  “What sort of horse did you order? I don’t think you ever said.”

  “Couldn’t say; you’d gone in-tree. I ordered in a batwing horse—gray, black mane, white socks. This new one won’t have fangs.”

  “Probably just as well.”

  “No sense scaring the small fry,” I agreed.

  We did the rest of the tour in silence, with me not repeating my question about Prince Aesgyr as obviously as possible.

  Gran ignored me—or she might just have been so caught up in revisiting that she didn’t notice.

  We stepped off the wheel across from the operator’s station. There were no customers yet, I noticed, but under the circumstances I wasn’t going to be too depressed about it.

  Gran settled again onto the operator’s stool—and no one with any more right to it. I skinned back onto the top rail, and sat there, pitched a little forward, arms straight, hands gripping the rail, head bent so I could watch my feet swing.

  “All right, Katie, what’s your point?”

  I looked up. “My point is that any sentence starting off with, No, but Bel—really needs to be finished, so I don’t have nightmares.”

  Gran looked at me seriously.

  “I’m afraid that you’ll have nightmares, even if I do finish it,” she said. “I’ve had my share of them, since we started down this path. But, even so—even now—I can’t see what else we could have done, and it was certain that we had to do something.”

  “Now you’re just having fun with me,” I said.

  Gran glared—then laughed.

  “You’re right. If I’m going to tell it, I ought to tell it properly, from the beginning.”

  “Which is when certain parties interested in achieving great power nudged the Changing Land out of true with the rest of the Six Worlds, so the Wind Between couldn’t deliver jikinap equally to all?”

  “No, after that by a considerable amount of…time. Ramendysis had gone to Daknowyth, bearing the Victor’s Terms to Mergine, and come back to plead clemency. Since Ramendysis had argued so urgently for punitive terms, your grandfather wondered what had happened to change his mind…”

  “So he paid a social call on Queen Mergine and asked her.”

  “That’s right. Mergine and Bel were long known to each other, and she had no hesitation in speaking with him frankly. She told him that she had promised her daughter Princess Leynore to Ramendysis in true and full marriage, in order to gain clemency and, perhaps something more, for Daknowyth.”

  She paused, frowning, as if deciding how to explain the next bit.

  “Mr. Ignat’ told me some of this, in between dodging questions about other things. Ramendysis had to collect a certain amount of jikinap in order to be a worthy bridegroom. If he managed to make it to his wedding night, he had very little chance of surviving that true and full marriage, because the Opal’s the Guardian of Daknowyth, and she would have just funneled his power straight into her land.”

  “Yes, that’s right. But, at that juncture, Mergine wasn’t particularly worried about Ramendysis. As far as she was concerned, Ramendysis was, if not a non-problem, an insignificant one that would eventually solve itself. What frightened her—and Bel assures me that there is very little in all of the Six Worlds that had the power to frighten Mergine of Daknowyth—

  “What frightened her was that she had received a visit from two of the Wise, who put her on notice that there was a Worlds-spanning conspiracy afoot, to disturb the flow of humors and energies between the Six Worlds. The Wise had already apprehended some of the ringleaders of this conspiracy, and they asked her cooperation, in aiding their search.”

  “Wait,” I said. “I thought that the reason Daknowyth took a war into Sempeki was because the flow of humors and energies between the Worlds had already been disrupted, and Daknowyth was dying.”

  “So Bel tells me, and I know it for the truth, since I hold his soul in safety.”

  “So…the Wise are trying to choke off the Six Worlds? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Doesn’t it? The Wise may well find that a closed system of power suits their purposes very well. Jikinap seeks jikinap, and the Wise are Wise because they’ve figured out how to survive the terrible costs of controlling that much power. But we don’t need to tease ourselves with what might be. Bel investigated. He found nothing…conclusive, but much that was disturbing.

  “The Flaming Land had been subverted. The prisoner that the Wise had placed into the carousel, and forced me to bind—she had been, so Bel found, high in the House of the Supreme Flame. In Cheobaug, he found news of a sea-god who had destroyed himself, his people and his sea—no one knew why. It was thought that his waters had been poisoned, but how, or what poison might touch a god, wasn’t known.”

  “But the woman from Cheobaug—”

  “That was after,” Gran interrupted. “They’d already brought me your Wolf, who lived up to his name, but was bound at the last.”

  “No one could have thought that holding his master of hounds hostage would stop Aeronymous, if he felt the need to act,” I said.

  Gran smiled. “But the Wise thought they had your father. Aeronymous was never a fool, as I’ve heard it told. When the Wise came with their accusations, Aeronymous produced, as his son Nathan, Cael the Wolf, who stood to do his lord’s bidding, holding jikinap that stank of the House’s power.”

  “So grandfather wasn’t as bound as they thought he was, to do what they wanted him to do.” I turned my hands out. “What did they want him to do?”

  “They may have only wanted to weaken the House, so Ramendysis wouldn’t have any trouble. That’s Bel’s theory: that the Wise’s plan in Sempeki was to allow Ramendysis to absorb as much jikinap as possible…”

  “…and then pick up Ramendysis.”

  Gran nodded. “So, getting back to the main tale, Mergine was afraid, for both her daughter and her land. She sent Leynore to her long-time ally in Varoth, Prince Aesgyr, and employed various subterfuges to make it seem that her daughter was still at Daknowyth. Bel and I came to believe that we must become involved…”

  “So he brought the Opal here, you bound her into the carousel, and then he led the merry chase of Ozali who wanted his head, and subsequently bound him into Googin Rock, they thought, while Queen Mergine kept up the fiction that the Opal was minding her own knitting at home, so he couldn’t have had anything to do with her going missing.”

  “Exactly so.”

  “Well, as an explanation, it hangs together pretty well,” I said, slipping off the rail and onto my feet.

  “That wasn’t quite what I wanted to explain,” Gran said.

  I stood in front of her and looked down into her face; there were lines around her eyes and her mouth; she’d aged—as she would, of course. Trees age and die, after all. My head knew that, but my stomach didn’t want to have anything to do with it.

  “What did you want to explain then?” I asked gently.

  “I wanted to explain why I put…everything, really, into s
uch terrible danger. And it’s because…the Worlds are interconnected. If one falls, we all fall. It’s why Aesgyr is…doing—or is about to do—what he’s…decided to do. If it doesn’t work, I don’t expect we’ll notice his failure. The world—our world, the whole globe—will slowly succumb to entropy. If Aesgyr is successful…I don’t suppose we’ll notice much difference then, either.”

  She smiled, palely.

  “We might miss the slow slide into chaos, but only a handful of us will ever know that was an option. So that’s why.” She took a breath and met my eyes firmly. “I wanted you to know.”

  It occurred me then that she wanted me to say something: that this had been a burden she’d been carrying for a long time, a burden that had frightened her, and Gran scares even less easily than Mergine of Daknowyth.

  “I’d’ve done exactly the same thing,” I said, and leaned over to give her a hug.

  * * *

  “How’s your relationship with Borgan?” Gran asked, after I’d gone over to Tony Lee’s and gotten us both an ice tea. It was hot enough to melt the tin roof over the carousel, and while there was a brisk breeze going on, it wasn’t by any means cool.

  “My relationship with Borgan is, I think, a little one-sided.”

  “You don’t care for him?”

  “I care for him a lot.” I might even love him leapt unbidden and startling to the front of my mind. I wondered how I would know…

  “You’re not giving up on him, then?”

  That, I thought, was being more than a little probing. I sipped ice tea through a straw, and raised my head to meet her eyes.

  “Gran?”

  “Yes, Katie?”

  “This thing with Borgan—did you set it up?”

  Have you paid your respects to the sea? I heard her ask, in memory. One of the very first things I’d learned about my new home, once I was well enough to walk up and down the land, was to pay my respects to the sea. There’d been no mention of a Sea Guardian, but there’d been no need; I was a kid, my oath to the land shiny new, and my understanding of my duties…slim at best.

  Plenty of time for Sea Guardians when I was grown up, and the scars of childhood had faded.

  And bearing in mind that Gran had kind of, sort of, manipulated me into taking up my ancestral duty as Guardian of the Land…

  It’s not that Gran’s cold-blooded—not at all. It’s just that she’s damn’ near five hundred years old and can probably be forgiven for believing that she knows better than a twelve-year-old kid.

  Gran sighed.

  “Set it up?” she said softly, like she was tasting the words. She shook her head slightly.

  “I’ve known Borgan since I was a sapling, Katie; he’s a friend, and he’s always been a good one. He early took a decision not to…become his duty; to remain, as much as possible, human. The sea’s love is a powerful force, and not easy to resist. Human love—mundane folk have such short lives. There comes a time when even a very powerful man just can’t bear to have his heart broken one more time.”

  “So I was going to save him with my love?” That came out with considerably more snark than I’d intended, and I remembered the girl—the Guardian of Surfside, had she only known it—who’d never had any harm in her…

  “I had hoped that you might…comfort him with your friendship. You’re young, more human than not—and the land’s love isn’t as strange as the sea’s. It will be…a very long time before you need to worry about losing yourself to your duty.”

  And he’d wanted to keep the sea familiar with humans, to keep it calm and well disposed toward the land, wasn’t that it?

  Well. The man knew how to set himself some goals, didn’t he?

  “I am his friend,” I said now, to my grandmother’s quiet and not-quite-human eyes. “At least that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tuesday, July 11

  The crowd started building right around six, and kept on’til Marilyn hit the closing horn at ten sharp. I leaned over and shot the bolt on the entry gate, smiling regretfully at the pair of girls standing first in line. They were maybe nine, ten—with turquoise polish on short nails; matching turquoise tank tops over flat chests, and bright yellow short-shorts.

  “Sorry, ladies; I’m not allowed to start any new rides after the bell. Come back and see me tomorrow, okay?”

  “But we thought the park was open ’til midnight!” the blonde one said.

  “Ten o’clock on weeknights. We want to make sure you get your beauty sleep.”

  “We better go find Andrew in the arcade,” the brunette said to her friend or sister. She gave me a solemn nod. “Thank you very much. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Looking forward,” I said and hit the bell twice to signal the end of the ride.

  “Ladies and gents, exit gate’s around to your left!” I called out for the dismounting riders, then turned to address the modest line.

  “That loud noise we just heard is the boss’ way of telling us that the park’s closing for the night! No new rides start after the bell, and we all heard it. So we’ll play by the rules. Come back tomorrow, please! And bring a friend!”

  “And earplugs!” shouted a wag from the end of the line. A smattering of laughter greeted this sally, and the line began to break up.

  I felt a shiver of delight run my spine, and smiled as I followed the last of the riders out to Baxter Avenue, then walked to the back, grabbed the edge of the storm wall and hauled it around. It rumbled and boomed, like it did, and I was grinning like a damn’ fool by the time I’d gotten to the middle, and met Borgan and the other half there.

  The walls joined with a clash and a clatter, and I looked up at him with a grin.

  “Hey, there.”

  “Hey, there, yourself.”

  He put his arms around me and pulled me into a hug. I went with it, arms around his waist and head resting against his chest. He sighed, deeply, and…just kept on holding me.

  “Rough day?” I murmured.

  Another sigh, and he stepped back, letting me go, which wasn’t necessarily what I’d wanted, though I stood back, too, and let my arms fall to my sides.

  “You could say it that way—a rough day.” He extended a hand, fingertips just brushing my cheek. “It’s good to see you, Kate.”

  “It’s good to see you, too,” I said, which wasn’t a lie, though it did ignore the fact that he looked bone weary.

  “Let me finish shutting down.”

  “Sure.” He followed me inside the walls, and leaned on the operator’s station, arms crossed carefully atop the board.

  I pointed at the orchestrion as I passed, and the paper began to gently reroll itself as I crossed the decking to the door hidden in the center mural. Ducking inside, I turned the generator off, threw the switch for the sweeps lights, and exited, closing the door softly behind me.

  The Violano paper was still being rerolled, with all due care, as if I were actually doing the job myself, instead of assigning a doppleganger to the task. I crossed the decking and jumped to the floor, calling my ball of feylight to hand before flipping the switch that killed the inside light.

  “Good to go,” I said, meeting Borgan at the gate.

  “That’s a neat trick,” he said, following me outside, and pulling the door to behind him.

  “Which?” I snapped the lock through the loops and shook the light out.

  “Rerolling the paper from across the room.”

  “It is, isn’t it? Realizing that it was possible was a breakthrough.”

  “I can see that it must’ve been.” He reached out and took my hand, weaving our fingers together. “So, what’s it like, using your magic through the land?”

  “It’s good—natural. I don’t feel like I have to keep my eyes open every second to make sure my power’s not doing something I’ll live to regret. If I’m lucky. And I don’t get attitude, either, when I want to do something; I just…think about it, and the tool comes to hand—familiar and easy.”
/>   “So, you’re thinking world domination?” he murmured.

  “Who wants to do all that work?”

  He led the way down the alley between the carousel and Summer’s Wheel, his fingers still linked with mine, and a minute later we were on the beach. Tide was coming in, but the breeze was subdued. In fact, I realized as we came to the water’s edge, the water was subdued, the waves low and sluggish.

  “The ocean’s still…in pain?” I asked.

  “Still…yeah,” Borgan said. “It…hurt, moving among the waters today. The sea’s never hurt me, even…” He took a hard breath. “The first time, when she accepted me as hers, I managed to work myself up into quite a lather until I realized that I didn’t need to breathe, there below; that the waters would sustain me. But that wasn’t her, it was me. This…the whole ocean’s grieving. I’m not sure how to right it, or if it’s best left to run its course…”

  I slipped under his arm. He cuddled me closer against his side, unconsciously, I thought.

  “Aren’t the other seafolk able to help?” I asked, thinking of Felsic, running toward the considerable racket of the Wise One’s arrival; of Gaby, answering my whispered plea to the land, for help…”Surely there’s somebody…”

  He sighed.

  “Called in some aid today, but the seafolk are all…infected by the sea’s sadness. They want to float low, if you take me. I can understand it; they live in the sea, she’s their whole world. ’Course they’re going to take her mood. The only reason I’m doing so well is I’m an adopted son—and I can separate myself from her, physically. The seafolk don’t have that.”

  His arm tightened briefly, before he shifted to face me, his hands on my shoulders.

  “Which kinda brings me around to what I came to tell you. Got a problem down the Vineyard—yearling whale beached himself. The local seafolk, and landfolk, too, are doing what they can, but—I’m needed, is the short of it.”

  He looked down into my face, mouth wry.

  “Sorry I won’t be with you—shouldn’t be gone more’n three, four days. Less, ’cept there’s somebody I need to talk to, down that way, and he’s not always easy to net. Give my apologies to Breccia; hate to disappoint that lady.”