Shatter (The Children of Man)

by Elizabeth C. Mock

  The market district of Wickcester sat on the eastern edge of the town providing a clear view of the Kurinean harbor. But the market sat far enough away that the telltale smells of its docks remained down wind. The goods and wares of competing shops spilled out in the street and those sellers who lacked the revenue to rent a storefront had carts set up against bare brick walls and blocked alleyways. The particular street that Sheridan sauntered down was too narrow for any carts to pass through, but a single rider could manage to squeeze through the crowd.

  Though she did hope to find new gloves to replace her ruined pair, she felt no need to hurry and enjoyed the beautiful craftsmanship of the clothes and shoes and weapons and trinkets on display throughout the market.

  Stopping in front of the window of one shop named Bernard’s Cogworks, she saw engraved fob watches in every metal imaginable with their covers open so customers could see the watches’ dials. Some of the lids boasted intricate floral designs and some bold geometric patterns, while the dials varied from precisely inlaid shell to simple metal plates. Sheridan loved watches, their precision, their artistry, and, especially, their design. Everything about a watch was both artistic and functional.

  Regardless of her desire, she had a watch still in good working order and she could not justify purchasing a new one no matter how exquisite its movements were. Pulling herself away from the temptation, she began searching the signs for a leatherworker’s shop. She only managed to pass two more shops before an elderly woman at a cart called to her.

  Though the woman’s braided hair resembled highly polished silver, she stood straight without any assistance. Her skin was dusky and weathered as if scoured by the winds of the Rainier plains in Taronpia. Behind the cart covered in garish, clashing shawls, and jewelry of every kind, a young boy clung to her full, multicolored skirt. The woman captured Sheridan’s gaze with her sparkling blue eyes.

  “Good afternoon, Sister. May Ashalioris guide your way,” she said with a throaty, musical voice. She swept her hand above the cart causing the rows of silver bracelets that ran halfway to her elbow to fall toward her wrist with a series of tinkling clinks. “Do you see anything you like?”

  Shocked by the woman’s eyes, Sheridan stepped closer to the cart and inspected its contents. “Well met, mistress, and may Tallior guard your tribe,” she responded with the traditional Deoraghan greeting. Though Sheridan did not share their odd faith in a three-fold deity, she felt no need to disrespect their beliefs by greeting her in the name of the Light. “And which tribe might that be?”

  “You know the ways of Lior’s children,” the woman said with a surprised smile as she put her hand to her forehead, then brought it to her lips. “That is rare amongst the Daniyelans and rarer still is one who would greet us in his name. I thank you, Sister. We are of the Eaststar tribe.”

  “The Eaststars,” Sheridan said searching her memory, “your elder is Lennox Eaststar, isn’t it?”

  “My, you are full of surprises,” the woman said with a laugh. “Lennox is indeed our elder.”

  Sheridan grinned pleased with herself at successfully remembering that detail as she continued to admire the jewelry on the cart. Her eyes kept returning to a silver ring. Thin lines of metal interwove like liquid in a complicated knot-work that stretched across the top of the band. The delicate complexity of the ring fascinated her. Picking it up, she traced its lines lightly with her pinky. As she followed its endless flow, the woman watched Sheridan and her eyes sparked with bright blue light for the briefest of moments. Her expression saddened.

  Sheridan put the ring down and dug around the inside of her bag. “How much for the ring, mistress?”

  The woman had already retrieved a tiny, carved sandalwood box from behind the cart and was nestling the ring inside. “I merely ask that you accept it, Sister. It is a gift.”

  Sheridan shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly. You must let me pay you something.”

  She shut its lid with a soft click and put the box in Sheridan’s hand. “You made an old woman feel less alone amongst the followers of the Light. This is my way of thanking you for your courtesy and kindness, young lady.”

  “It’s too much,” Sheridan protested trying to return her hand to her bag.

  The woman caught it before it reached its destination and captured Sheridan’s gaze again. “Though you don’t seem the superstitious type, you wouldn’t refuse a gift from the Deoraghan, would you?”

  “You won’t curse me if I refuse, will you?” Sheridan said half-joking, but something in the intensity of the woman’s gaze made her feel like something was crawling across her skin.

  “The stories are right in one sense,” the woman said her voice turning serious. “When the Deoraghan offer a gift, it is for a reason. The only misfortune that falls on those who refuse the gift is that they lack the gift when they have need of it. Please, Sister, the ring is yours. I can give or sell it to no other. It is meant for you.”

  Sheridan nodded. When she withdrew her hand cradling the box, the noises of the street flooded back. Bringing with it the voices of traders and customers engaged in commercial sparring as they circled one another each searching for the upper hand. With a start, she realized that she hadn’t noticed the absence of the sound until it returned.

  *****

  Chapter Five

  Eve sat on the bench outside The Fattened Trout waiting for Sheridan. They had agreed to meet back here for dinner after six, but Sheridan was late — again. The bouncing rise and fall of someone playing a mandolin floated from a tavern further down the street. With her arms folded, her thumb tapped out a counter-rhythm to the music. As her mind wandered with the music, her senses extended and she traced the flows of the green glimmers of life that flared around her, from the smaller sparks of rodents and tabby cats to the larger flares of horses and people. But no matter how small or how large, they all contained that connecting green life.

  When the music stopped, so did her thumb and she let the second sight fade away with a blink. Swiveling her head, she saw Sheridan weaving around a carriage that had stopped in the middle of the street to unload its occupants. Eve waved at her sister and Sheridan increased her gait, but never moved faster than a quick walk.

  Finally reaching Eve, Sheridan collapsed onto the bench. “Sorry, it took me forever to find a pair that fit.” As it to emphasize her point, she wiggled her long, thin fingers in front of Eve’s face. Eve batted them away, which caused Sheridan to retaliate by poking her in the side.

  “Stop it,” Eve said with a hiss as she trapped her sister’s hand. “Do try to have some sense of decorum.”

  “You started it,” Sheridan told her with an innocent expression.

  “Oh, I surely did not,” Eve said getting to her feet as she pulled Sheridan with her, “but I will most definitely finish it tonight if you try anything else.”

  Sheridan’s eyes flashed as she leaned in close to her sister. “I accept your challenge,” she said then kissed her sister on the nose with a quick peck.

  Eve couldn’t stop herself from laughing at her audacious twin and linked her arm through Sheridan’s as they entered the tavern. “You are impossible, you know that?”

  “Why thank you, sister dear.” Sheridan steered them toward the back of the open room where a set of wide windows overlooked the Kurinean harbor. They each took a seat at the end of a long table that ran the length of the windows where they could enjoy the view of the boats skimming across the water. They had only just sat down when a server came to take their orders and left as unobtrusively as he had appeared.

  When they were alone again, Eve said, “Let me see these gloves that usurped our dinner plans. They better be marvelous.”

  Sheridan picked her bag up off the floor and removed a pair of caramel-colored lambskin gloves that she set on the table with a flourish. “They’re like a buttery-soft second skin. Try them on.”

  Eve had already slid one on her hand and flexed her fingers and found her mobilit
y only marginally restricted. “Oh, Sheridan, these are exquisite. I retract my earlier complaints. These are definitely worth delaying dinner, if not missing it entirely.”

  “Hey, now,” Sheridan said raising her hand, “let’s not talk like we’re mad. Not even these pretties warrant missing a meal.”

  “Speaking of missing meals, did you notice how many of the cases we heard dealt with theft and more often than not stealing food?”

  “It’s been getting worse,” Sheridan said losing all of her frivolity. “The number of cases has been increasing with every circuit we ride and not just regarding theft. Think about that smithy in the last town, Boris. I remember him from a couple circuits backs. He’s a good man.”

  “I can’t understand what could have driven a hard working, honest man like that to helping slavers,” Eve said tracing the grain of the table with the tip of a finger.

  “You saw the fear in his eyes, just like I did, Eve,” Sheridan said as she wove some strands of her long hair into a tiny braid. “He didn’t know what else to do. Barely anyone in town’s been requiring his services and they’re too isolated for him to travel to sell his goods. He’s got that whole brood of seven kids. Keeping them fed has to be a fulltime occupation in and of itself.”

  “But that doesn’t justify what he did,” Eve said her voice holding a serious tone. “Nothing can justify helping slavers. I wouldn’t even call them animals. Their kind shouldn’t be allowed to exist.”

  “I’m not saying I think what he did was right,” Sheridan said in a slow voice, “I’m just pointing out that his circumstances are tragic and are becoming disturbingly common. At this rate, half the towns are going to be under judgment.”

  At that moment, their server returned with white wine for Sheridan and cider for Eve as well as their dinners, which Sheridan descended on with a voracious appetite.

  Flakes of halibut melted on Sheridan’s tongue, leaving behind a smoky flavor. Only a few hours ago, the fish had been swimming in the Kurinean Sea blissfully unaware of the culinary fate that awaited him. She speared another mouthful and savored the taste.

  “You know,” she said, sucking on the tines of her fork, “it isn’t decent to enjoy food this much.”

  “Well, not all of us are as fortunate as you in our ability to consume anything and everything that is placed before us, dear one.” Eve took a small bite of her couscous and roasted vegetables. The slight searing of the vegetables gave a nice charcoaling, but kept them crisp.

  “Eve, how can you be my twin,” Sheridan asked in exasperation, “when you can’t eat meat?”

  “I was just wondering the opposite about you, you carnivore.”

  “This barely counts,” Sheridan argued punctuating her statement with a stab of her fork in the air.

  “Fish are animals too, Sheridan,” Eve reminded her. “I’ll stick to my grains and vegetables and fruits, I’ll thank you.”

  “It’s truly tragic, Eve, truly tragic,” Sheridan said around the rim of her cup as she took a drink of her wine.

  “Let’s talk about something other than my inability to consume animal flesh. Have you confirmed that there’s any truth to the rumor that Kaedman made Nessa an offer?”

  “Well, I haven’t made it that far north since he was installed as the Daniyelan representative on the council, but he’s known Nessa as long as he’s known us. He’s always been fond of her, but I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?” Eve swirled the contents of her plate with her fork.

  “I don’t know. Kaedman just never seemed like the marrying type to me. You know how he is.”

  “Yeah, he’s a bit single-minded in his service to the Orders.”

  “He wasn’t always like that,” Sheridan said with a resigned sigh. “That last year in the war changed him. But wouldn’t Nessa have told you if he did? You two were always closer than we were.”

  Eve shrugged. “It seems that as she’s gotten older, her cousins rank a bit lower on her priorities. I haven’t received a letter in over a year.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind having him in the family officially and I’m sure his mother’s family will be thrilled.”

  “Which would be evidence against the rumor, if you ask me,” Eve said raising her mug as she redirected the conversation away from the possibility of Kaedman joining their family.

  “Too true. I think he would marry Ossi if he thought it would irritate his aunts and uncles,” Sheridan suggested with a laugh.

  After they finished dinner, the sisters strolled through the market together and Sheridan took Eve to the leatherworker who had made her gloves and to Bernard’s Cogworks to show her a brass watch with tiny floral enameled embellishments. As the sun began to set, they returned to the Daniyelan temple to resupply and repack. After they had everything ready, the two women gladly sought their beds. Their day had begun before dawn that morning and this day should have ended their circuit. Instead of a fortnight of leave, their orders sent them back into the field with only this one night to rest.

  Eve stared at the wall next to her bed, following the lines of the mortar’s intersecting patterns and thought about their imminent departure for Montdell. Several years had passed since the last time she had seen Kaedman and this arrangement suited her just fine. She didn’t dislike him; she even respected him. Few Daniyelans possessed his gifts and dedication. Despite this, she preferred to keep her distance from Kaedman Hawthorn and knots of anxiety clenched her shoulder muscles at the prospect of working with him.

  Gentle snoring drifted from Sheridan’s bed. Her twin was fast asleep. Eve had always envied Sheridan’s talent for falling asleep regardless of the circumstances. Even when physically exhausted, Eve could never get her mind to slow down enough to fall asleep immediately. Tonight simply proved the rule.

  Rolling onto her back, Eve tucked a hand under her head and closed her eyes. She knew that Sheridan shared none of her hesitance where it concerned Kaedman and instead of easing her worry, it increased it. The only reason for their summons to Montdell, that she could see, would be if the local Daniyelan representatives had been compromised, which meant Kaedman had been compromised. Sheridan would refuse to accept this conclusion and that could make everything more complicated.

  Pushing aside her troublesome thoughts, Eve began counting her inhalations and exhalations until she lost track around three and sixty.

  The next morning Eve woke to the sound of morning doves quarreling outside the window just as the sky glowed with the gentle rosiness of dawn. Untangling herself from the covers, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and heard metal resonating against metal amidst the hooting of the doves on the windowsill.

  “Morning, Eve,” Sheridan said as she drew the top of her pack closed. “Your things are already packed except for your uniform, which I laid out over the chair for you. I’m taking my load down to Ossi before grabbing breakfast. So, if you get dressed now, I can take yours down with me.”

  With her long hair braided down her back, Sheridan looked impeccable in her clean and pressed uniform as she stood waiting for her sister’s answer. Eve hated to think how long Sheridan had been awake to look so put together.

  Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Eve nodded, but said nothing as she stumbled over to her clothes. In only a few moments, she had changed. Still barefoot she stuffed her nightclothes into her pack and hefted it up for Sheridan to take. Her own gear already in place, Sheridan looped her arms through the pack’s straps and left the room.

  “I’ll be in the kitchens,” she called from down the hall. With no other Daniyelans in the temporary quarters, they didn’t have to worry about waking anyone who wished to sleep past the sunrise.

  After pulling on her socks, Eve shoved her feet into her shiny boots and wiggled them up to her knees. Still feeling groggy, she shuffled her way to the bathing room with an odd sliding click of her boots on the stone floor. Washing her face with warm water, she felt the last vestiges of sleep melt away and thanked the
Light for whichever engineer invented the piping that brought the water into the temple.

  When she found her way to the kitchens, she discovered Sheridan perched on a counter with an apricot pastry in hand while she sipped something hot from a mug.

  “There’s a plate over there,” Sheridan said licking off the liquid on her lips. She pointed with the mug to a heaping plate of steaming pastries on a thick wooden chopping block.

  Eve grabbed a strawberry one and bit into it as she stole her sister’s mug and took a swig off the dark, bitter liquid and made an unpleasant face. “Darkness, Sheridan, why didn’t you warn me you hadn’t cut it with milk?”

  “Maybe because you took it before I could?” Sheridan said as she reclaimed her drink and drained it before Eve could take it back. “It’s not my fault you’re so impulsive, m’love.”

  Sticking out her tongue at her sister, Eve poured herself some cider. “Where do you plan on popping us in?”

  “The local temple,” Sheridan said around bits of pastry. “I know its courtyard the best. Because there is no way I’m going to be able to fit that beast of yours into the Amserian receiving room. Not to mention the fact that it’s on the third floor. I can’t imagine that horse being happy about going down the stairs.”

  “She has a name and it’s not ‘that beast,’ Sheridan,” Eve said annoyed. “You know that Kimiko isn’t just a horse.”

  “So you keep telling me,” Sheridan said wiping the crumbs from her hands as she held them away from herself.

  “She’s quite intelligent and she knows that you dislike her,” Eve said after finishing the last of her cider. “She’s just as much my partner as you are, you know.”

  “Great, I’ve hurt the beast’s feelings.” Sheridan hopped off the counter. “You know just because I’m popping us to Montdell does not mean you can equate me with a beast of burden.”