“It was nice of Aelle and Olly to send a gift,” Lelet said. “I wish they could have been here.”
Olly, now full-time ambassador to Eriis, had his official residence on the Edge, quite close to May and Stelle, where a community of handsome riverside villas had gone up. He and Aelle were currently visiting his family at their house in Upper Garden. Aelle made frequent trips to see her mother at the tents but made it clear she preferred to spend her time in Mistra. She was a fiercely sought-after dinner guest among the Fifty, as were their dear friends Rane and Althee. The second pair had left Eriis early, as they were locked in furious and ongoing negotiations with wine merchants to the north. Well, Althee was. Rane was probably sampling the goods. But he made Althee glow, and that was all that mattered.
Lelet was somewhat relieved Aelle hadn’t come. She still never knew quite where she stood with that woman and thought perhaps she blamed Lelet for her father getting away, although she never mentioned his name. No one did. Thayree’s either, but knowing the girl was back on Mistra, probably swimming and bossing her “father” around, helped to ease Lelet’s heart.
The duReed name died with Auri. She sometimes had nightmares where she was still living in his house, and in her dreams, her heart twisted with despair because she was bound to him forever. She knew she ought to feel something other than relief at his death. Perhaps, since it was the rock and bone of Eriis that helped her kill him, they had absorbed any guilt, because she felt none at all.
The subject of the day’s attention began to scream, and Lelet, although she worshipped the baby, wished Zaii and Liim would take little Rhuusa home. Her Naming Day party had been a throwback to the days before the Weapon, lavish and lengthy, held at the palace and attended by everyone who had even the most remote association with either parent, the spark mother, or Moth and Lelet, who served as hosts. This was the last event, held in Moth’s private suite and with only the closest friends and family invited. The girl had been named for one of the heroines of the River Seat, as it was now being called, and for the new king.
Hellne had been adamant upon her return, saying Rhuun had been prince for long enough. There was a ceremony with Anuu—a real one, this time—and Lelet had nearly burst with pride as Hellne told the story of Malloy and placed the glass crown on Rhuun’s head. It was an unconventional crowning ceremony, but as Rhuun was quick to point out, he was an unconventional demon. Later, Hellne confessed she was looking forward to a rest with her old friend Siia along with her no-longer maid Diia and the other women at the tents. No one would call her queen out there, but Lelet had no doubt she’d be the one in charge, with Jaa gone to rejoin her celestial sisters. Hellne said she was thinking of writing her memoirs, in addition to lending a hand to the ambassador.
“Olly says I am simply indispensable,” she’d told them. Between Aelle and Hellne, she figured Olly had a full plate.
“I feel your sister needs a bit of time to recover,” Coll said to Scilla. He was looking at Lelet strangely. “We should depart back to the Guardhouse as well.”
Scilla nodded and smiled at Lelet, opening her eyes wide. Lelet caught a glimpse of her sister’s eyes, knowing she was showing them off to make her jump. It worked—she was consistently startled by Scilla’s new bright red eyes. It had been Jaa’s last gift to Lelet’s family, and Calaa was reportedly only too glad to make the sacrifice, if it meant sparing her from the Crosswinds. She was currently learning how to see without seeing from the sisters of the circle at the tents and, according to Siia, daily plotting her revenge.
Scilla said, “I have something for you too. It’s not really a gift.”
Lelet groaned inwardly. Her nap moved further out of reach.
“It’s something I found. It was in the box of chlystrons, kind of jammed up in the lid of box. When I made the last batch for you, the lid fell on the floor, and it came out. I couldn’t... I only got to read it after I got these.” She pointed at her eyes then glanced at Coll, who nodded. “I think...we think it might be important. Moth needs to see it too.”
Lelet took the delicate paper and held it out so Moth could read over her shoulder.
My own Rabaa—
Why must you be so far away? I think now, especially now, you should be closer to my hand. How would you like a new house? A nice one. Yes, the very one you made me look at, the last time we put on our veils and snuck through the streets. It’s yours now—yours and our little moon’s too. And anyone else you might want to bring with you, as long as he is out when I come to call. And no, that isn’t the only gift I have for you today. Look in the box. You’ll also find a chlystrons for our new moon, and it’s the kind you wanted, a gift from the High Seat. I hope that will ease your mind and that you understand the time must be right for me to put him into the line of succession. Even though there’s no reason to suspect Araan will not take the Seat—don’t pout, we’ve talked about this! —our moon will grow up to be at the right hand of the king. And that means you, my jump mouse, will have whatever you desire. But only if we are clever and patient.
Speaking of not being clever, I really must sit down with Hellne. That girl has gotten far too close to the humans. If she doesn’t mind herself, our moon might one day have a rival! Ah, don’t make that face, our boy will always have the Seat’s favor, no matter what else happens. And Hellne might be a silly girl, but I raised her better than to be that much of a fool. Can you imagine the results? It boggles the mind. As soon as I send this post, I’ll find her. This is a good time to talk to her, because for some reason the humans have called back all their representatives—even that grotesquerie Hellne trails around after. I’ve sent Preeve to keep an eye on them. I don’t imagine they’ll be gone for too long.
With kisses as if I were with you now,
-F-
“So that’s my grandfather,” said Moth. “And that grotesquerie he mentions was my father. Well, Fedeer certainly sounds nice. This must have been written just before the Weapon.”
“It’s a love letter. And it looks like there’s a love child too.” Lelet frowned. “But who’s Rabaa?”
“Rabaa is...was...Niico’s mother.” And then Moth started to laugh. When he could speak, he said, “I guess this means we’re related.” He wiped away tears. “He’s going to hate this. He’s my…this makes him my...um...”
“He would be King Fedeer’s son and your mother’s half-brother. He’s your half-uncle?” Coll seemed unsure. “If...when he returns, will you tell him?”
Moth was still laughing. “Tell him? I’ll throw the crown at him and let Ilaan run things.”
He wasn’t joking. He made an excellent but unenthusiastic king. He’d wistfully mentioned Mistra on more than one occasion and talked fondly about the opera, of all things.
She sighed. Ilaan had left to search the Veil before the Zaal had fallen, and there had been not a word since. She worried that the book of luck he relied on had let him down. But Moth never wavered in his belief that Ilaan would return and looked for him morning and night.
“Did I do the right thing?” Scilla whispered.
Lelet nodded. “The truth is always the right thing. And if Niico ever comes back—when he comes back, that is—he has the right to know.”
“Plus that would put Ilaan in charge.”
Lelet opened her mouth to correct her sister then gave up. It might not be technically true, but there were honestly worse outcomes. After hugs and kisses—and a solemn nod for Coll—and promises to visit soon, Coll and Scilla left to go through a Door of their own making and back to the Guardhouse, and Liim and Zaii took the guest of honor home.
Finally, it was just her and Moth. He closed the door, which still had no lock, never a lock on his door or hers, and came back to take her in his arms. She smiled up at him, thinking longingly of her nap.
Voices came from the garden, which had been empty a moment earlier.
“Did we miss the party? Is there any cake left?”
“What exactly is cake?”
“It’s a Mistran thing, shani. You’ll like it.”
You have got to be kidding me. No, this was perfect. She would have expected Ilaan—with Niico by his side—to make a grand entrance, but after all, Ilaan lived to upend expectations. She would have thought Ilaan would want a bigger audience for this particular entrance, but maybe Moth was all the audience he required.
The pair, arm in arm, were disheveled and dusty, and Niico had a curved scar that looked permanent bisecting his eyebrow. She thought it gave him a dashing air. Lelet figured it was a souvenir of his run-in with the Zaal. She had keepsakes of her own.
Moth embraced his old friend. She’d never seen him look so happy or relieved, not even, she noted, when it was her own life he was relieved about. Those two.
“We were just talking about you,” he said.
Ilaan looked pleased. “Then everything is as it ought to be.”
Niico pointed at her hand. “That’s new. Very stylish.”
She lifted it so he and Ilaan could see the glass in her palm. It only ached in the morning, when she first woke up. She didn’t mind. The glass in her breast hardly ever hurt at all. “Thank you. I hope to set a trend.”
Niico laughed and hugged her. “I didn’t miss you most of all, but you were fairly high on the list.”
Ilaan took in the redecorated grounds, the greenery, and the water and turned to Niico. “It looks like we won.”
“Well, shani, we knew that.” Niico stretched and helped himself to a drink. “We heard bits and pieces from travelers. A lot more activity in the Veil than we thought. Still, a nuisance to get out of there. Definitely overrated as a vacation destination.” He sipped and choked. “What’s happened to sarave? Everything is ruined!”
Rhuun took the glass of wine out of his hand and replaced with actual sarave. “Not everything. Let me think. The Zaal got eaten by the last of his daeeve. We couldn’t get the stain out of the floorboards.”
“Nothing left but the green trim on his hood. I guess that part wasn’t edible,” Lelet added.
“There’s a permanent Door open in your old apartment, so you’ll need to look for a new house.”
“A permanent...” Ilaan was so rarely surprised that it was truly gratifying seeing him caught short. “Did you say a Door?”
Moth shrugged. “I accidentally opened it in the middle of a river on Mistra.”
“You say you opened it?” Niico was wide-eyed with admiration. “How unexpected. Anything else?”
“Well, I’m king now.”
Ilaan’s eyebrows shot up. “Does Hellne know that?”
“Of course.” Rhuun looked offended. “What do you think, I pushed her out a window? It was her idea, actually. She’s retired. She’s spending some time with your mother at the tents.”
“King Rhuun,” said Niico. “That has a certain…what’s the opposite of ‘ring’?”
“Do you want to tell him?” asked Lelet.
“I find that I do,” Rhuun answered. “Speaking of unexpected. Would you like the news now or wait until you’ve gotten settled?”
“Is it about me?” Ilaan asked, looking cheerful again.
“Niico,” Moth said, “what do you remember about your mother?”
Niico stiffened. “As you know, she left the path of life when I was an infant. As you also certainly know, there was talk. If that’s what you mean by ‘what I remember.’ Nice welcome home—”
He handed Niico the letter. “He must have loved her very much,” he said. “She must have been a remarkable woman.”
Both Ilaan and Niico read it over.
“You’re the son of the old king and possibly heir to the High Seat, shani. Now, that’s a proper welcome home.” Ilaan sounded delighted. “I told you nothing interesting would happen until we got back.” He looked from Niico to Moth. “What happens now? Do you two have a trial by combat? An aerial battle?”
“Let’s slow our sand,” Niico said. “Rhuun—”
“Yes, cousin?” Rhuun replied.
Ilaan hooted with laughter and hugged Niico’s arm. “Cousin!”
Niico grimaced. “Um, isn’t it step-half-uncle? Do we have to decide this right at this instant? Can a man shake off the dust first? Perhaps get drunk and talk about this before possibly rehoming the crown?”
“Light and Wind, I hope so. Also, there’s cake inside.”
The three went off to catch up and probably overindulge, not that they didn’t deserve it.
Finally, alone. She could hear the men talking and laughing inside. Good, no battles—aerial or otherwise—had broken out. She yawned hugely and, pulling her hair out of its tidy coil, shook it loose before resting on one of the chaises she’d brought through The Door as part of her household goods when she’d come to stay.
Moth’s suite of rooms hadn’t needed much by way of remodeling as far as the interior, but his walled garden, once a patch of sand, had been transformed. With water for everyone and dirt to go along with it, she’d had some special exotic plants shipped from the Southern Provinces: desert roses and palms and bougainvillea, and, thinking of Mother Jaa, an orange tree near the arched doorway. Moth had only one request, and his little greenhouse, tucked against the wall near the patio, was filled with orchids, including a blooming beauty he’d adopted from Ilaan.
She wanted an actual pool to swim in, but try as she might, she couldn’t get the idea through the heads of the workers. She, like everyone else these days, had what they called a water court, which looked like a pool but was only a few inches deep. The idea was that you and your guests could stand in the water while you chatted or sipped a glass of wine—everyone wanted wine—or even set your table there and have a meal with refreshing water lapping at your ankles, and she had to admit, it was charming to see a new custom starting right before her eyes. Feeling suddenly hot and uncomfortable, she got up and sat on the edge and let the water cool her feet then went back to the chaise, which was in the shade and loosened the tie on her deep blue tunic. She could barely hold her eyes open, and she must have had too much of that legendary cake because her stomach roiled.
“Congratulations, dearie.”
She opened her eyes. Light and Wind perched on the edges of the row of chaises. They were dressed for a tea party in pastel chiffon and daytime pearls. For once, they matched: Light in soft blue and Wind in peach.
And on the edge of Lelet’s own lounger, Mother Jaa herself. She wore a gown of rose chiffon which matched her eyes.
“Thank you,” she replied. “Lovely to see you all. May I call you Rain? Is that proper?”
Jaa smiled. “I left Mother Jaa behind, thanks to you and our boy. She served me well.”
“Hm, yes.” Lelet wondered if it would be impolitic to mention how desperately close Moth had come to dying that day. But she supposed goddesses expected sacrifice and let it go. “Um, congratulations for what, exactly?”
Light laughed. “Well, she won’t have to name it Niico, now that he’s come back home.”
Wind agreed. “Wouldn’t be proper. Anyway, Rain, your boy wouldn’t care for that at all, would he?”
Rain snickered. “We’d have two Prince Niicos running about. Can you imagine?”
“Wait.” Lelet sat up. “What are we talking about?”
But she knew. She knew, she knew, she knew.
“Well, you’re going to be seeing a lot more of us, dear,” said Wind. “We have to make sure you’re a proper mother. I don’t wish to be rude, but you are without natural inclination, as you’re mostly human.”
“Partly,” said Light.
“Let’s say half,” added Rain.
“I’m to be a mother,” whispered Lelet. “And you’re sure?”
“Aren’t you?” asked Wind. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Normally when you outsmart an elemental, you pay some sort of awful price, but I have to admit, you two have been through quite a lot already.”
Light leaned forward and patted the back of her hand. “We have
officially revoked the terms of our agreement, in case my sister wasn’t clear.”
Wind nodded. “I have no objections. You have earned this.”
“They brought me back. They can have whatever they want,” said Rain. Upon seeing the looks on her sisters faces, she quickly amended herself. “Within reason.”
Light held up her finger, and they were all holding glasses of champagne. “This is a wonderful day for Eriis,” she said, raising her glass in a toast.
“You’ll have to start taking better care of yourself,” observed Wind. “Cut back on that, for instance.” She pointed at Lelet, and her champagne turned to water.
“One sip,” Lelet protested.
“And don’t think no one notices you sneaking the occasional cigarette,” added Light. “Kiss those things goodbye.”
“Oh, and you’d better get inside. Look, it’s starting.” Rain pointed at the sky, and the three women looked up, laughing. When they clapped their hands the flash of light made Lelet blink and shield her eyes.
Rain was gone. So were Light and Wind. But the thunder that followed the lightning came fast, and so did the downpour.
Lelet got up slowly and walked in the rain to the middle of the garden. It only took a moment for her long hair to be plastered to her back. The air was soft and smelled of rich earth and the flowers all around her. From inside, came whoops of delight, and Moth, Niico and Ilaan raced out.
“Moth.” She tried to say more but couldn’t, so instead she held out her hand, and he took it. She was shaking, and could feel warm tears on her face.
The River King Page 27
