“I didn’t get close enough to see.”
“Why not?”
“I wasn’t going to step inside the circle.”
“Why in the world not?”
“It felt strange.” I didn’t like admitting that. It was fantasti cal and childish. But it was what had happened.
“It felt strange?” Risa asked with a snicker.
“Yes,” I snapped.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re different,” she accused me. “So are you,” she said to Taro. “Why are you so quiet?”
“Silence enhances my beauty,” he announced solemnly.
Risa clearly didn’t know how to respond to that, so she didn’t. She was smart that way. “Did you notice anything unusual about the grass around the marker?” she asked him.
“I didn’t step into the circle, either.”
“Why not?”
“Lee said it felt strange.”
Risa rolled her eyes. “So neither of you touched anything?”
“Correct.”
“And you didn’t see or hear or smell anything other than what you’ve already mentioned?”
“No.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yes.”
“Then I guess all I can ask is that you let us know if you think of anything else.”
Hopefully, we would never have any reason to ever think of it again. It was weird.
“You said this has been going on a lot?” Taro asked.
Shut up, Taro. This is none of our business. Oh, except— “Were any of the other markers for the ashes of aristocrats?” Just in case. Taro had been born into an aristocratic family, and that caused him a stupid amount of problems, even though he’d given up all rights to the family title.
“Aye, but not all of them. There’s everything you could think of. Merchants. Gamblers. Actors. Farmers. All sorts of different people.”
An interesting selection of victims. If one thought the dead could be victims. Which I didn’t, as they were dead.
“Do they have any idea who’s doing it?” Taro asked.
“Not yet,” Risa said in a curt voice. “Why? Are the two of you going to be supplying desperately needed assistance?”
That wasn’t fair. We didn’t try to get involved in these things. It just happened. “No,” I answered loudly, before Taro could say anything. “It is none of our business. We are a Pair. That’s what we do. That’s all we’re going to do.”
Risa looked amused by my words.
Taro raised an eyebrow. “I would think after the last year you’d have a different opinion about that sort of thing.”
Flatwell had been a rude shock for us both. It had been terrifying to be in a place where Pairs were neither respected nor supported. We had been expected to pay coin, which we didn’t have, for everything we needed. It had been a harsh lesson in the dangers of having only one skill and relying entirely on it.
On the other hand, it was wise to know one’s limitations. I was not a Runner. Who was I to get involved in a Runner’s business?
“Where did you two go, anyway?” Risa demanded. “And why?”
No one was supposed to know where we’d gone, or why. Showing up after more than a year of absence, it was hard to lie, and I wasn’t good at lying. “Triple S business.” Which wasn’t entirely a lie, as taking Aryne to Shidonee’s Gap was Triple S business, and it was also a catchall phrase used to tell regulars to stop asking questions. Handy.
“Huh,” said Risa, unimpressed.
“Did you bring your costume back with you?” Taro asked, sounding innocent when he was acting anything but.
I couldn’t kill him. I wasn’t suicidal. But I could hurt him a lot without experiencing any ill effects myself. Testing the limits of that ability might prove educational.
“Costume?” Risa demanded, eyes alight.
“It’s not as interesting as it sounds, Risa.”
“I beg to differ,” said Taro.
Why was he doing this to me? I couldn’t remember aggravating him recently. “Part of the task I was required to perform demanded particular clothing.”
“Task, eh?” said Risa. “Some task other than Shielding, I suppose?”
“Bloody barbarians,” Taro muttered, suddenly losing his good mood. “Wasn’t enough that we were a Pair. They expected us to work.”
Risa gaped at him for a moment, then started cackling with laughter, nearly falling off her chair in her enthusiasm.
“It’s not funny,” Taro objected, and no, he didn’t sound at all petulant.
“It’s beautiful!” Risa exclaimed. “Finally! You two had to work to earn an honest coin?”
That was all it took to bring Lord Shintaro Karish back. He sat up even straighter in his chair, his shoulders squaring back and the haughty mask slipping over his face. “We spend our lives risking our lives settling natural disasters, and have never gotten a damned coin for it.”
I loved the way his r’s rolled whenever he was particularly annoyed.
But Risa was not the sort to be intimidated. If pushed, she could tell dozens of stories about lordlings whom she’d picked up in various drunken positions of embarrassment or destruction. “So what did you do?”
“Nothing we can tell you about,” I told her.
“You can’t tease me with a mention of a costume and then just drop it.”
“Just watch us.”
“At least tell me why you had to wear it.”
“I’m sorry, Risa,” I said. “Really. It’s just that our time away was difficult, and to come home and come across—” More weird ritual trash. The people we’d known on Flatwell had taken their belief in ritual and superstition to fatal extremes. I hated rituals. They were never a good thing. I sighed. “It’s disappointing, really.” And frightening. And frustrating.
Risa tried to stare us into confessing. We stared back, silently. Then she shrugged. “All right. For now. But I’m getting some of that horrible white wine you like and pulling the story out of you.”
Like hell. I was making a note of it. No more drinking with Risa.
We were able to tell her some of the more ridiculous things that had been going on in the Imperial court, claiming we had heard the stories during our travels. Risa told us of some of the goings-on in High Scape, which included a rash of home fires, a mayor who’d been caught spending too much government money on personal pleasure, and a series of successful jewel thefts. Risa’s world was largely shaped by criminal activity, which was perfectly natural given her occupation, but it could make for a depressing conversation.
Risa was always, for some reason, a little less fun when Taro was with us. She seemed less relaxed and more likely to be offended. So it was a bit of a relief when she decided it was time to leave. But that wasn’t necessarily an improvement of my overall circumstances, because Taro declared that it was time to go shopping. “For what?” I demanded.
“For whatever takes our interests. We work damn hard at our jobs and deserve whatever compensation we desire.”
I looked at him with concern, discomforted by the tone of bitterness in his voice. “I don’t need anything,” I said.
He rolled his eyes. “That’s subject to debate.”
And that quickly, the bitterness was gone. Perhaps it had been a momentary aberration. “You can stop it right there.” I found myself pointing at him, which was rude. “Only my mother is allowed to nag at me about my clothes.” And only because I’d failed to find an effective means of gagging her.
“The point of shopping, my love, is not to go hunting for things you need, but allowing yourself to stumble across things you like and delighting in the discovery.”
“How like a flighty lordling you sound.”
“Hush, you, and be a good girl. It’s not like you have anything better to do.”
He was unfortunately right, but that didn’t mean I was going to obey him unequivocally. “We are not shopping for clothes.”
“Aye, aye. There’s
plenty else to find, you know. We need to get you some trinkets. You almost never wear any.”
I shrugged. It wasn’t as though I didn’t like jewelry; I just never thought of it much. And when I did, I was uncomfortable with the idea of taking it from merchants. It was expensive, and I didn’t need it at all. What few pieces I did have had been gifts from my family, and those would have been properly bought.
But there was no harm in looking.
In my experience, no city did markets as High Scape did them. It wasn’t merely a matter of size, though High Scape did have a much greater number of merchants than any other city or settlement I had ever been to. It was also the fact that it was pretty much spread out all over the city, with a concentration in each quad and tendrils of stalls winding through the surrounding streets.
And then there was the sheer variety of goods. Clothing, of course. Clothing already made to fit general standard sizes, at which Taro always turned his nose. Fabric, to be purchased by those forced to make their own clothes. Tailors for those who could afford to have clothes made for them. Consumables, such as chocolate—Taro picked up three bars—and other luxuries, as well as vegetables and fruits and fish and meats and breads and cheeses and ales and wines and other liquors. Paintings and rugs and wall hangings and trinkets and toys. Dyes and cosmetics and perfumes and hair combs. Playing cards and name cards and news circulars and books. Just everything imaginable.
The noise of the market was often deafening, the scents in the air a battle between the sublime and the disgusting, and the streets completely crammed with people, animals and stalls. Sometimes I found it overwhelming. As well, fingering items I didn’t need and listening to people bicker just wasn’t terribly interesting to me.
Still, shopping with Taro could be fun, for he obviously enjoyed it, and his enthusiasm was a pleasure to observe.
Besides, there was a part of me that still hadn’t quite recovered from worrying about every coin and whether we’d have enough to buy food, which had been a constant preoccupation of mine while on Flatwell. I couldn’t say I wasn’t thinking about how much things cost—I could never return to such a state of perfect ignorance—but knowing I could have it if I wanted it, regardless of price, was an almost dizzying relief.
I was disgusted that I felt that way. I was ashamed of how much I’d hated my time as a regular, how stressful I’d found it, how eager I was to return to the ease of being a Shield. I would ignore such self-assessment, if I could.
“That,” he said, nodding at a bolt of blue cloth, “would look brilliant on you.”
Aye, it would. “No clothes,” I reminded him.
“Blue brings out the green in your eyes and makes your hair look exceptionally red.”
And that was a good thing? “No clothes.” Especially clothes that had to be made for me. That meant fittings, and fittings were time-consuming, irksome things.
“But you agreed to jewelry.”
“I agreed to look at it.” And I hadn’t even done that. I just hadn’t verbally opposed it.
Jewelry itself covered a lot of variety. There were plenty of rings, bracelets, anklets and chokers woven from leather or a variety of fabrics, and some of it was quite pretty. But that, of course, wasn’t what Taro had in mind. “Gold,” he declared.
“Copper would do, too,” I suggested, but only because it made him give me that look of affronted disdain.
“Gold,” he repeated.
“You know, if copper were more expensive, you’d be insisting on that over gold.”
“There’s a reason gold is more expensive.”
“The merchants flipped a coin?”
“Because it’s more rare, and it’s prettier.”
“Pretty being so much more valuable than useful.”
“That’s something that damn island taught us, didn’t it?”
Taro never called Flatwell by its name if he could avoid it.
The stalls with the valuable jewelry were easy to spot. They had solid wooden walls on three sides and a guard or two standing at the front. The guards gave us a glance before returning to scanning the rest of the crowd, recognizing us as a Pair by the braids we wore on our left shoulders, and therefore not a threat.
Ah, and there was that disappointed look from the merchant when he realized some of his precious stock might be walking out with no coin in return. I’d almost missed that look.
“And don’t even think of hiding your best stock,” Taro warned him.
I looked up at him, startled. As the first words out of his mouth, they were a little harsh.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” was the merchant’s snappish reply.
“In fact, why don’t we start with your strong box and move from there?”
The merchant sighed and ducked behind his display. He pulled out one black box, about a foot square, and then a second, unlocking both with keys secured to his belt. He raised the lids and pulled out the drawers.
I knew immediately that this was not the stuff for me. Gem-encrusted necklaces, rings, earrings and bracelets, thick and heavy and glittering. My skin hurt just looking at it.
Taro seemed to be reading my mind, for he tugged on one of my naked earlobes. “The holes are fairly small. You might have to work your way up to earrings such as these.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Taro. I’ve no occasion for earrings such as these.” I didn’t expect any repetitions of the one party I’d attended in honor of the Crown Prince. Thank Zaire. I enjoyed music and drinking with friends as much as the next person, but there was something rather stiff about the gatherings of the High Landed. Plus I knew they were looking down at me, which was never a comfortable sensation.
The look of relief on the merchant’s face was hilarious.
“You have in the past.”
“And if I have any luck at all, I never will again.” I looked at the merchant. “You can put these away.”
He was pushing in the drawers before I’d finished speaking.
Taro growled but didn’t press, instead choosing to glance over the rest of the man’s inventory.
It wasn’t a matter of modesty with me. I truly didn’t care for jewelry that was too fussy, no more than I liked fussy clothing or fussy furnishings.
“So, what are these things?” Taro asked, holding up what looked like a gold lump on a gold chain. The chain was too short to be a bracelet, too long to be an earring. “I’ve seen people wearing them.”
So had I, now that I thought about it. A faint memory teased at my mind and faded away. I took the item from him. I found a small pinning loop attached to the chain. The lump, upon closer inspection, was beautiful golden knot work.
“Not like that one, sir,” the merchant objected. “Few have the taste required to—”
“Yes, yes,” Taro interrupted him with a wave of his hand. “But what is it?”
“Are you visitors here?” the merchant asked in return.
Taro raised a haughty eyebrow. “We are Shield Mallorough and Source Karish.”
And before the merchant would make the mistake of admitting the names meant nothing to him, I added, “We returned to the roster only yesterday. We’ve been at another post.”
The merchant nodded in a quick, abrupt gesture, because it wasn’t as though he actually cared. “These are called harmony bobs. They have become highly fashionable. They are said to bring good luck.”
“Bring good luck?” Taro picked up another bob from the display. “How do they do that?”
The merchant shrugged. “The spells cast on them.”
Taro chuckled. “Spells?” he asked incredulously.
“Casting has become popular this season.”
How could belief in casting become popular? Like a style of boot. Who believed in casting outside of plays, poetry and novels? And, of course, Flatwell.
“You are to wear it pinned to your clothing, over your heart,” the merchant explained. “The beating of your heart is supposed to wake the power in the metal. The
bob itself must be given enough length to hang freely, to give it direct exposure to the forces it is supposed to affect.”
What a ridiculous idea. “What has brought this on?” I asked.
“I suspect it has something to do with the Riverfront Ravage,” said the merchant, and I could hear him capitalizing the words.
The what?
“Excuse me?” Taro asked.
“Some kind of illness. It started a few months ago. No one knows how it started or where it came from. Some people think it’s from the trade boats. Some think it’s because of all those little flies that seemed to be springing up down there.”
How had we not heard of this during our travels?
“What’s being done about it?”
The merchant shrugged. “There are healers looking into it, I expect. It’s nothing too serious. No one’s died or anything. It’s pretty common for these kinds of illnesses to flare up in larger cities. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Yet they are developing this interest in casting because of it?” Taro gestured at the merchant’s display.
“The ignorant get scared,” the merchant answered. “I believe people started feeling uncertain about things during the Harsh Summer.”
Though I had not heard the title before, I imagined he was referring to the summer before last, when unseasonable weather had a devastating impact on crops and stocks, on all number of livelihoods and lives.
“Many have still not recovered. I imagine there are those who never will. And then this illness comes, and the healers can do nothing. The Pairs can do nothing, the healers can do nothing, the mayor can do nothing. People start looking for other solutions.”
How incredibly sad. I couldn’t imagine what was worse than feeling utterly helpless, having terrible things happen and knowing there was nothing to be done about it. “But no one has died from this illness?”
“Of course not.”
All right, then. It was unpleasant but not fatal. I was really tired of fatal things.
“Does the design have special meaning?” Taro asked of the bobs.
“Yes. A design will determine the nature of the luck you’re seeking. In wealth, in health, in love and so on.”
“And is there a limit on the number of designs?”
Moira J. Moore - Heroes at Risk Page 3
