City Without End (22 page)

He looked toward Rim City. The fog was parting, disappearing like soap bubbles left too long in the bowl.
Sydney
, he thought, as though his heart would burst.

On land the procession turned. The citizens were marching toward something, but the goal did not matter. What was important was to be on the Way at the moment all other city dwellers were. Most could not have said why it thrilled them to circumnavigate the sea; but few would have missed saying “I did the Great Procession on the first day Rim City was a sway.”

A shower of candy hit Quinn as a float passed by. He waved at the acrobats performing their routines on a motorized float. It hummed by, wheelless, suspended a foot above the Way.

Suddenly at his side there appeared an outrageous-looking, very short woman. It took him a beat to realize it was Zhiya.

“By the bright, we are a sway!” she said, in the prearranged signal before disappearing into the oncoming procession. So, Zhiya had gotten the message to Sydney. It settled on him with a jolt that Sydney was nearby. She now held the note he had written in his own hand. He wanted to ask Zhiya: what does she look like? He would soon find out.

He was approaching the crystal bridge. He had been tracking the progress of the line of Adda that were sailing up the shoreline toward the mansion. Through the thinning fog he caught glimpses of the symbionts.

Time to cut down to the Pearl Wharf. Everything now depended on timing, and Zhiya’s man riding the Adda with the purple fringe, the man who was not afraid of heights. Quinn made his way down to the shore, his mind now on nothing but Sydney.
Show me that you still love the Earth. Child of the Entire
you might be, but Earth is still your birthplace.

And the Great Procession turned.

Firecrackers clapped out a long burst. Even deep in the mansion, Helice could still hear the cacophony of the parade crossing the bridge. She’d promised Sydney that she’d check on Riod, but now that she’d used the time to check on her mSap, she might just let that assignment go. A slight breeze hit her from a side corridor. Her scalp felt it. She’d forgotten her hat.

Turning back, she hurried down to the level of her quarters, just rounding a corner when she saw the Lady Anuve disappearing into the doorway of Helice’s own apartment. She froze. Why would the Tarig bitch be in her room? She mustn’t have time to search, to find the mSap. Helice rushed to the doorway.

It was too late. Anuve knelt beside the mSap, having pushed aside the heap of clothes covering it.

Helice swung back out of the doorway, pulse thudding, mind racing. How to explain the mSap? There was no way to explain it except for what it was. She would have to kill Anuve.

Not damn likely.

Helice found herself in a nearby room, pasted against the wall, panic banishing normal thought from her mind. She had to get the mSap from Anuve. The mSap was her only power in this universe.

She rushed to Sydney’s quarters a few suites down. Empty. Everyone except Helice and Anuve was on the terrace. Helice stood in the doorway and screamed.

Ducking back into Sydney’s room, she tore over to the windows overlooking the sea. She opened the casement and stepped through onto a small lanai, shutting the windows behind her and leaning against the wall. In a moment’s assessment, she had her route planned out. First, she had to get from the lanai to the adjacent servant’s quarters; a window ledge offered footing. She climbed onto it. Helice now stood hundreds of feet above the confluence of the Nigh and the sea with nothing to hang on to. Sidling along, praying Anuve would not look out the windows, she came to Riod’s quarters. The windows were thrown open, blocking her passage. She flung them shut with her feet, crossing in front of Riod as he lay on his pile of straw observing her.

“Stupid, mind-sucking cripple,” she thought murderously. “Die and get it over with.”

Riod’s voice smashed into her consciousness, though she willed him away from her.
Jump. That is the best way for you.

Snarling her contempt, she passed on, scrambling finally onto her own lanai. She peered inside. Anuve was gone, having rushed off to investigate the scream. The mSap was still there.

Moving quickly, Helice jumped into the room and pulled her long scarf from around her neck. She cradled the mSap inside it. Grabbing her hat from the bed, Helice jammed back through the lanai doors, moving away from the window panes. She had the mSap. But no disguise, no money, nowhere to go.

First things first. She had to get down from the bridge.

Deng rushed toward the sound of the scream. He was supposed to be waiting on the Inyx, but instead he’d been lolling next to a window to look at the procession. Clattering down the stairs to the residential quarters, he heard someone rounding the corner to come up. It was a Tarig. He crashed into her.

She lifted him up by his shoulders.

“Did you scream, ah?”

Flabbergasted to be in the grip of a Tarig, he shook his head furiously. “I heard it, Lady.”

She dropped him and, spinning around, strode back down the corridor, darting into rooms, one after the other. Deng was frozen in consternation.

Who could have screamed? And why? The sight of a Tarig slinking and darting in the corridor filled him with a sickening fear. He trailed after Anuve, wanting to flee but understanding he must serve her.

The lady came out of one apartment and stood stock still. She drew a knife out of her waistband. Deng was going to die. She hurled the weapon at him. It landed at his feet, embedded in the floor.

“Find the woman Hei Ling. Search everywhere. Use any means to stop her from leaving.”

“Yes, lady.” He yanked the blade from the floor and went in the opposite direction from Anuve, piss running down his legs.

On the terrace, a team of acrobats passed by on a float. Sydney gripped the note in her fist, but she needed privacy to read it. The dwarf had referred to Sydney’s ambitions. No one knew about those; no one should know.

The acrobats were wildly popular, bringing cries and applause from the onlookers. The servants on the terrace steps clapped gleefully. Anuve had been absent for several minutes from her post at the window. Now was the time. Sydney turned to the nearest attendant. “I will use the washstall.”

She hurried into the foyer and into the nearest washstall. There she read the note; reread it. She leaned over the fountain, sick to her stomach. When the wave of nausea passed, she gripped the basin and looked into the mirror.

He won’t see me like this, she vowed. She splashed water on her face and straightened her hair. A woman in red stared back at her, eyes like dark wells.

Entering the great hall, she looked for Anuve. If the creature had been in view, she might have gone to her, shown her the note. Might have. But didn’t.

She rushed down a back staircase to her apartment. She was going to do this. Stupid, stupid. But this wasn’t just to see her father; he was, for the first time, offering her something. She wanted to consult with Riod, but there wasn’t time.

Rushing into her quarters, she threw open the window to the largest porch on the Ascendancy side of the mansion. She turned to gauge the approach of the Adda. From out of a great bank of fog, a huge beast emerged.

The lead Adda. She strained her eyes into the murk to see the one with the purple tassels. Still back in the line of beasts. She crumpled Titus’s note and threw it over the railing.

The Adda bore down on the crystal bridge.

Tai’s arm was weary from waving. He rode the pliable ladder, having hooked one leg around a cross bar. Holding on with one hand, he shamelessly waved at the citizens gathered along the quay, those who could pull themselves from the procession for a moment to see the great passing of the Adda.

The line of symbionts was riding low, perhaps lower than it ought if it was to pass properly before the mistress’s review up on the bridge. The Adda just in front of his was particularly low, ruining the line of the procession. It was caparisoned in a purple headdress, dangling streamers and elaborate fringe. Now a man was rushing up to that Adda, trying to catch the ladder.

To Tai’s surprise, the green-clad rider in charge of the beast reached down a hand to him, helping him gain purchase on the lowest rung. For an instant, the two men clung to the Adda’s trailing ladder, and then the beast climbed back to position, just as if it were all carefully planned. So, Tai thought: the rider in front thought to give his lover a ride in the fabulous Adda.

For a moment the two men on the purple Adda hung on, then one climbed into the orifice. The remaining rider turned for a moment, looking around him, and met Tai’s gaze.

It felt like a punch in his midsection. Tai stared in a heart-stopping moment of incredulity. It was
he
. No. It was not. Looking more carefully, it was not. The face was not the same as the pictures . . . but in other ways it was. Tai had gazed so long at the likenesses of Titus Quinn that he knew him by face shape, by expression, by
essence
. By the Rose, Tai was sure. He found himself moving into a profound bow.

And on the other Adda, Titus Quinn bowed back.