The Shadows of Dust, page 15
Oh.
Oh no.
Gereld’s face had turned a shade of yellow that reminded Kerin of cured vellum. His eyes were bulging like he couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed.
“You’re a . . . you’re a . . .”
Tessa continued to smile through his stammering. “Yes, I am a Shroud of the Inquisitarium. And if you don’t want me to take a hard look at what exactly you and your runty flying lizard are doing here on Dust, I suggest you walk away. Now.”
The boy shot Kerin a final look of loathing and then turned quickly on his heel and made for the door. His compatriots followed close behind, nearly falling over each other in their haste.
Kerin couldn’t take any pleasure in watching the guildrat get humiliated. He felt numb. The Inquisitarium was one of the most feared organizations of the tributary, employed by the exarchs and the Golden Emperor to maintain order within the borders of the Mandate. They were the daggers in the dark: part secret police, part investigators, and part assassins, ruthlessly excising any threat to imperial rule.
Or at least that was the rumor. But the Tessa he’d known would never – never – have allowed herself to become such a tool.
She must have seen the disbelief in his face. “It’s true,” she said, closing her strange new eyes. Something passed across her face that suggested either exhaustion or sadness. “And as to your first question, why am I here . . .” Her eyes snapped open again, and whatever he had glimpsed for that moment was gone. “This planet is a hotbed of sedition. The thalani refuse to accept that they are now part of the Mandate.”
Kerin raised his glass and drank deep of the vile black spirit, unable to keep his hand from trembling. Tessa? A Shroud? Of all the shocking events and revelations of the last few days, this was the one farthest beyond the bounds of possibility.
“They were slaves once before,” he whispered. “They do not wish to be again.”
Tessa’s mouth twisted. “They have no choice in the matter. If the Mandate withdrew tomorrow from the cluster, it would only be a matter of time before another of the great powers swooped in to take the empire’s place. Would they prefer sloshing through the breeding pits of the ghenabakans? Tending the algae fields of the Qan Hegemony? Sacrificed to rise again as foot soldiers in a lich’s legions? The Golden Emperor takes far better care of his subjects than most, even those recalcitrants who refuse to become citizens. He allows them to live their lives, with all the benefits the Mandate brings to its systems. Stability, protection, trade.”
“You sound like a true believer.”
Tessa shook her head. “I’m not the child I once was, Kerin. And neither are you. I think we probably have both done things that would have horrified our younger selves. But this shedding of innocence happens to everyone . . . or the universe breaks them.” She sighed, falling quiet for a moment. “I’m on Dust because the Black Dawn somehow managed to assassinate an exarch.”
“Truly?” The surprises continued. Exarchs were drawn from the ranks of the Mandate’s most powerful archmages, and the layers of protection wrapping them – both sorcerous and otherwise – should have made them beyond invulnerable to a bunch of ragtag revolutionaries.
“Yes. And not just any exarch. Charvenak had been a favored apprentice of the Golden Emperor himself. Even a Transcendent should not have been able to murder him so effortlessly.”
Kerin’s curiosity was piqued now. “What happened?”
“He was found dead in his chambers. His wards were intact, and there was no sign of physical trauma.”
“Poison?”
“Nothing in his blood. And no common substance could have harmed him anyway. It was like his spirit simply . . . abandoned his body.”
“Perhaps a sorcerous rival?”
“No trace of sorcery was found, at least nothing ever encountered by the mages of the empire.”
“But you’re sure the Black Dawn are responsible?”
She stared into her nearly-empty drink as if an answer could be found in its silty dregs. “He’d been marked for death by the Dawn for things he’d done trying to root them out. And then he died. Until I have further proof, I’m holding them responsible.”
“So you’re here to find out what happened and bring the guilty to justice.”
Tessa set her glass down hard with a clink. “Yes. In fact, I have other things I need to be doing tonight. My coming here to the Whimsy was supposed to be just a brief stop to say hello to an old friend.” She must have seen the question forming in his face, because she hurriedly continued. “Information is hoarded by the Inquisitarium. Your arrival was noted today and brought to my attention, and I know you well enough to realize that this place would be where you’d spend your first evening on Dust.” She tossed a generous handful of tribunes onto the bar and began pulling on the red-leather gloves she’d removed earlier when she’d started drinking.
“Did you hear my grandfather is dead?” Kerin blurted. He’d been avoiding broaching this topic, but she should know if she didn’t already.
Another quick shiver of emotion passed across her face. “Yes,” she said simply, stepping away from the bar.
“Can I see you again?” Kerin asked, suddenly afraid that she was once more going to walk out of his life and vanish.
One side of Tessa’s mouth lifted. “Come by the magistrate offices tomorrow around the tenth glass. I’m working out of there, as the Inquisitarium has no permanent presence here on Dust yet. Though that might change if we have more days like today.”
“You mean the explosion in the plaza?”
She nodded. “They nearly killed the new exarch’s daughter. I can’t imagine what kind of reprisal would have happened if they’d been successful. I fear it would have been bloody and indiscriminate. We must end this insurgency before too many innocents suffer.” She withdrew a featureless black disc slightly larger than a coin and held it out for him to take. “Show this to the guards when you arrive, and they’ll bring you to me.” Her golden eyes lingered on him for a heartbeat longer, then she turned and strode away.
He continued staring at the door for a long time after she’d vanished. Tessa was here on Dust. And she was a citizen of the Mandate. Not just a citizen, but a member of the Inquisitarium. If his grandfather’s ghost had watched what had just unfolded his heart would have stopped a second time. Of all the people he had ever known, Tess would have been the absolute last he’d have expected to become an agent of the Golden Emperor.
He raised his glass, but then realized he had no desire to drink any more tonight and set it back down again. He knew he should be happy knowing that Tess was still alive – he’d wondered many times what had happened to her after she’d left their crew – yet there was a sadness starting to gnaw at his insides. More of Zino’s Tears might well lead to real tears, and that wasn’t a path he wanted to go down right now.
Sighing, he pushed away from the bar.
10
Wrapped in his thoughts, the streets of Sanctum passed in a vague blur as Kerin made his way back towards Bas Jelaska’s spire. Late night snack vendors called out to him from behind makeshift grills as they brushed marinade onto the carapaces of cooking insects, and groups of scantily clad thalani women clucked their tongues in an attempt to lure him over to where they lingered in the puddles of light below hanging spheres.
He ignored them all.
Tessa. There had been a time when he’d been sure that their destiny was to be together. That they’d stand side by side on Drifter’s deck as the Streams flowed past, carving a place for themselves in the tributary. He’d imagined them becoming legends in the guild, eclipsing the fame of his grandfather and all of Kerin’s other storied ancestors. They would bend the universe to their will, taking what they wanted from life with both hands.
And then that fantasy had been shattered. The memory of that day still sent a pang through his heart. They’d alighted on Heth to stock up on supplies and meet with a merchant who had been looking for a courier to deliver some important documents to a distant system. Tessa had seemed quiet in the days leading up to their arrival, but nothing to suggest what was coming. Then, almost as soon as Drifter’s flippers had touched the blue grass of Heth’s stables, she’d thrown a ladder over the side and started to descend. He’d been surprised, wondering what was on this world that was so important she couldn’t wait for his grandfather to conclude his negotiations with the stablemaster.
Kerin remembered his shock when he’d realized she was carrying a bulging travel bag that must have contained nearly everything she owned. He’d rushed to the edge of the deck, calling down to her as she reached the ground and paused to adjust how the huge bag hung from her shoulders. But she hadn’t looked back or responded, setting off towards the crowd of hawkers and merchants clustering on the edge of the stables. He’d started to follow her, but then a hand had fallen on his shoulder.
“Tess is leaving,” his grandfather had told him, and the sadness in the old man’s voice had shaken Kerin. Up until then, he’d never heard such emotion from his grandfather. Tessa’s actions hadn’t been a surprise to Calvin. She’d told him, and he’d kept it from Kerin. The bastard.
Ever since that day, Kerin had imagined what might have happened if he’d pulled away from his grandfather and chased Tessa into the crowd. Was it possible he could have convinced her not to leave them?
But he hadn’t. He’d watched, numb and broken hearted, as she turned back just before vanishing and stuck out the tip of her tongue. Had she been crying? Somehow, he couldn’t remember. Every other detail of that moment was etched diamond-sharp in his memory, except for what emotion she had been showing. Or maybe there hadn’t been any tears. Maybe there had only been relief and joy, and the gap in his remembrance was his mind trying to protect him from the truth.
And now they’d been brought together again. Ten thousand systems were spread throughout this branch of the stellar tributary. What was the chance that they would find each other on the same frontier planet on the edge of the Known? It felt like fate. It felt like destiny.
Neither of which Kerin believed in.
A clattering from a nearby alley brought his hand to the hilt of his sword, but it was just one of those damned lizards chasing a rat into the shadows. He relaxed, frowning, and squinted at the silhouettes of the spires picked out against the stars. They were also speckled with glimmering points, but the color was different: the light filling the windows was golden and warm, while the smaller stars beyond the spires gleamed white and sharp. Perhaps Tessa had tired of the cold beauty of the stars and the Streams that bound them together. She’d not been born a streamsurfer and had lived the first eight or so years of her life on the outskirts of a poor city on a backwater world. Tessa had come into his life when she’d tried to pick his grandfather’s pocket. Cal had caught her, of course, and she’d thrashed and squirmed like she knew he was going to cut off her hand. Kerin remembered standing there frozen in the bazaar, his jaw hanging open as this whirlwind of snarled red hair tried desperately to free herself from his grandfather’s grip. Her terror had been so raw, so real. He’d been about the same age as her and had been travelling with his grandfather for less than a year, and he hadn’t known his grandfather well enough to guess what he would do. Back in the slums of Deval, if one of his mother’s lovers had caught a thieving urchin there would have been blood spilled. But his grandfather had only waited until she’d exhausted herself, and then as she watched him warily with wild eyes, her body heaving in panic, he’d taken a coin from his pouch and pressed it into her hand. After that he’d let her go, and she’d disappeared between the dusty pavilions like a terrified mouse, clutching the coin to her chest.
At the time, Kerin had been sure he’d never see her again.
But after they’d swum nearly to another system she’d crawled out of a barrel half-stuffed with hardtack, crumbs in her hair. And she’d stayed for seven years, until that day on the blue fields of Heth when she’d abandoned them.
Abandoned him.
He swallowed back a surge of emotion. Something had changed in that moment for all of them. Age had finally seemed to catch up to his grandfather, bowing his shoulders and deepening the lines of his face. He’d been more melancholy afterwards, spending far more time in his solarium watching the Streams. There had been less laughter, and he’d been quicker to anger. It was like the fire inside him had been dampened. Kerin felt that he had never been the same either. His dreams had constricted after Tess had left, becoming far less ambitious. No longer did he imagine becoming one of the legendary streamsurfers. Now it was enough just to keep Drifter swimming between the stars, with enough money in his pouch to sleep in a comfortable bed and enjoy a good meal in port.
The canted apex of Bas Jelaska’s spire emerged from the shadowy forest rising in the distance. Would Nala ever abandon him like Tessa had? The mere thought sent a cold shiver through him. He’d be alone, except for Drifter. He imagined wandering through the empty rooms as a Stream surged outside, playing t’skelcha silently by himself in the Nest under the pitying stares of his ancestor’s ghosts. The hollow ache in his chest intensified. He couldn’t lose Nala. How could he continue if he did?
His legs were burning by the time he reached the ninth tier of the spire. Apparently, the old man and the beast that turned the windlass had already retired to their beds – he should have expected that, given how deep it was into the night. Luckily he hadn’t drunk himself into oblivion like he’d planned, because he probably would have passed out somewhere on the endless steps spiraling up the inside of the spire . . . and that was presupposing that he would have even successfully retraced his path through the city to get back here.
He fumbled his way past the doors of the other families living on this level, careful to avoid tripping over the detritus he remembered seeing earlier. Without the daylight trickling through the cracks and holes in the walls the interior of the spire was draped in near-total darkness, although a few large luminescent moths shed just enough radiance that he knew he was going in the right direction. Even still, he had to catch one of the insects and hold it caged and fluttering within his laced fingers to make sure that he’d reached Bas Jelaska’s red door with its recognizable flourishes of black metal.
He suspected that those inside were already sleeping, so instead of waking them up by rapping on the door he pushed lightly with his shoulder and was pleasantly surprised to find that Bes Jelaska had left it unlocked. As quietly as possible he slipped inside the darkened home; he was tempted to release the glowing moth he was still holding, but then thought better of it and tossed it back into the hallway before closing the door.
The entrance to the corridor leading deeper into the apartment and presumably to beds was a square of deeper blackness. He decided the idea of stumbling around in the dark where three females were sleeping was a poor one, especially since he knew one of them answered her door holding a crossbow. So he was sleeping out here.
Kerin carefully crept across the room towards the hunched shape of the divan, remembering just before he flopped down to check to make sure that same crossbow was no longer there, nor any of its quarrels. Bas Jelaska must have moved it, as all he felt was frayed fabric, and so he unlaced his boots, unbuckled his sword belt, and laid down with a satisfied sigh.
As soon as his head touched a cushion exhaustion swept over him. It had been a long, overwhelming day. And tomorrow would be even longer. First, he was sure he was going to accept Tessa’s invitation to meet in the late morning. The thought filled him with no small amounts of both excitement and trepidation. He was desperate to know what had happened to her in the decade and a half since she’d left Drifter, but also worried that she might have changed beyond recognition. What had he told Nala? People don’t change, they only get better at hiding themselves. Was that true? Was the Tessa he had grown up with still there beneath those squirming black markings?
And then after his meeting with Tessa he should go to see the Antiquarian. Who knew how long Sep had before the alvaren artifact completely consumed her? Or would it simply stop at some point? Surely it wouldn’t change her entire body to crystal, would it? His imagination conjured up an outlandish scenario where crystallized alvarens were fixed to the fronts of starbeasts like the figureheads on terrestrial sailing boats, ready to smite their enemies with vast amounts of conjured stellar energy.
He shifted, trying to get more comfortable, and as he did so he saw something that sent a spike of fear through him. Looming over the far end of the divan was a formless shape, a blacker shadow cut from the darkness. Immediately he thought of the things he’d glimpsed on the streets of Sanctum, those ancient memories that had somehow been given substance by returning to this world. But maybe this was all in his tired mind. Yes, surely there was nothing really there, he was just being a ridiculous fool—
The shadow moved, coming partway around the end of the divan.
Terror held him fast. Kerin wanted to cry out, to scramble from where he lay, but the only part of him that still seemed capable of moving was his heart. He fought the paralysis, a cold sweat breaking out. This was exactly like what had happened all those years ago; this might have even been the same divan where he’d watched unable to move as a shadow of a child drifted closer . . .
“Are you awake?” A voice asked softly, and Kerin let out a gasp of relief. Sep. Sep was standing in the darkness.
He pushed himself into a sitting position. “Oh. You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, settling on the end of the divan.
Kerin rubbed his arms to banish the last lingering chills. “It’s fine. Are you all right?”
He heard her fingers running along the fabric. “Yes. Bas Jelaska is kind. She washed me and told me good things.”
“That’s . . . nice.”
