The Sand Prince (9 page)

She dipped the tip of her crooked old finger into the cup, and savored the resulting chips and slivers of ice.

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riis City

9 years after the War of the Door, Eriisai calendar

45 years later, Mistran calendar

The Quarter

In the end, it turned out to be a matter of telling people what they wanted to hear.

Old Master Vee, the sand sorter, was too busy keeping his three daughters from burning each other to cinders to worry about something that might or might not have happened during the war.

"It was a terrible time," Diia said to Master Vee. "And my Hellne, well, she took some awful risks even bringing that child to birth. Worked herself to a shadow in those days. Before I started making sure the poor thing ate and slept, that is. Well, I don't need to tell you how difficult it can be, even with healthy children. The Weapon, you know, it didn't just change the landscape. Oh, she sends these hair beads—three sets, you have three girls, don't you? With her compliments. Your sand is always first choice in her kitchens."

Diia led her elderly clan-aunt out into the street, and looked for Jaa’s review. She nodded approvingly. Diia could be counted on to repeat any story, as long as she was featured in it.

Mistress Kaaya, the pretty young kite maker, had an appraising eye and sharp tongue. Jaa knew she’d need a delicate kind of convincing.

"Her boy," Kaaya told Mother Jaa over water one afternoon, "Now, he'll be tall. Some women like that. And he seems polite enough. Whatever the queen did before the war, at least she's raising a respectful child. The Weapon, you say? Well, I suppose it makes sense, it changed so many things. And yet I recall there was some talk...."

Jaa placed her gnarled old hand over Kaaya's slender, ink stained one. "There is always talk. There was talk about a young soldier, if I recall. Wasn't he secretly wed?"

Kaaya blushed crimson. Jaa couldn't see the younger woman’s face but she could feel the rising heat. "Quite right, Mother. Idle talk is just that—fit only for those who don't have anything better to do. The Weapon, of course. It's just a shame, he'd be a handsome boy, sort of, if it wasn't for those eyes. Well, not handsome exactly, but... oh well. And please, let me pay you for the mending. You do the finest work, I can barely see the stitches."

Sometimes, they'd do the work for you, if you were patient.

Diia and Jaa stopped for cups of sweet ice and sat together in Dzhura Square. This, the oldest part of the city was built around squares and plazas, connected by a twisting maze of alleys, side streets, and the occasional named boulevard. Before the war, it had been lined with trees and bright with flower boxes. Now it was twice as crowded and the air was almost as full of dust, kicked up by sandals and wheeled carts, as the plains beyond the city wall. It was still not uncommon to see people coming and going with their traveling scarves thrown over their faces.

"True," said Diia, rather loudly, "but as anyone can see, the air definitely improves. Well, you know who we have to thank for that." She nibbled at her ice. "And don't tell me the Mages—Light and Wind alone knows what they'd get up to if our Queen hadn't set them straight."

"Not quite natural, I think, for a person to live underground," commented Jaa.

With a little prompting, the residents of the Old City reminded each other that things were finally improving. The years of hunger and fear were behind them. One could see all the way across the city from the Tower of the Moons straight to the City Wall, most days (if only briefly), and who was to thank? Who came to the Quarter in those first days to make sure everyone had at least a cup of water and a place to sleep? Not the Mages—they hid safe underground through the whole thing.
When they make the rain come back to Eriis
, they told each other,
then we can talk about the Mages. Maybe the boy, the Queen's strange son, maybe there was more to him than one could see....

***

"O
w!" Rhuun had stabbed himself with the needle again. "My fingers are too fat." His sewing lesson had stalled out at 'threading.' Jaa, having listened carefully to the wind that blew down her street, was starting to think the boy himself was his own best advocate. Diia wasn't so sure.

She spends her days by Hellne's side
, thought Jaa,
and she sees the way our Queen looks at her son. And these days, Diia doesn't piss without the Queen's blessing. But our people, here in Quarter, are perhaps not so... close to the situation. They will get used to him. People can get used to anything, if they have water and bread.

Rhuun set his needle down and kicked his heels under the stool. "Tell me about the old times, Mother Jaa. Before the war. Did you ever go to the other place?"

"I did not, in fact I don’t think I’ve been out of the Old City since before you were born. But!" she said, with a smile, "I know someone who went over, and came back to tell." She didn't need conventional sight to see the boy's wide eyes. "Your mother's lady, Diia, is one of my grand nieces, as I've told you, and her father's cousin— so some relation—in my clan anyway, his best friend was a man named Teeuh, and that man was the ambassador's assistant. He went twice before the war. He told us all about it; we didn't believe half of it! Water from sky to sky, can you imagine? And people travel on the water in boats." She pronounced it boh-hats.

He sat back, disappointed. "That can't be true. There's not enough water, you wouldn't get anywhere."

"Well, I suppose you know best..." She waited, knowing his curiosity would defeat his pride. He quickly apologized and she nodded and continued. "There are flowers of every color, and birds in the trees—he told us one might think they were mice with wings."

"Like Rhuumice?"

She’d heard many times from him about the magical Rhuumice, although she knew the boy had never actually seen one.

"Something like that, yes. Well of course we had many of these things before the war—not birds, though—but they have something we never had. It gets cold. Very cold, so that the ice, like this—" she held out her cup, now frosted over, "it fell from the sky."

"From the sky? I don’t..." Since he didn’t want to risk offense, she let him change the subject. "What are the human persons like? Did he tell you?" he asked.

"Now, the humans, they're an interesting lot."
Walk carefully
,
Jaa
, she thought. "They are clever, very clever, and while they can be foolish and destructive in their anger, they have much capacity for kindness and generosity. Teeuh told us most of them don't even know we exist. Isn't that strange? A whole world right next to them, and they don't know a thing about us."

"Maybe I'll go there one day, and tell them who we are," said Rhuun.

Jaa sipped her water thoughtfully. "You might be exactly the right person to do so,
shan
. Now, it is still light, am I correct?"

"Mother Jaa, you are always correct."

"Let us thread a needle, lest your garments fall to rags and we have to start transforming my table and chairs into a shirt for you. Have you doubled in size since last week?"

"What happened to the ambassador? And to Teeuh?"

Jaa didn't answer for a while.

"I'm sorry, Mother. It was rude of me to ask."

"No, not rude. I was just remembering them. Teeuh vanished the first day, I think the Weapon took him. The ambassador... he went to the other side and never came back. Humans can be dangerous, Rhuun. Most of them may not know we exist, but there are those who watch the Door, I think, and wait for us to knock."

"Look! I did it!" He held up the needle and thread, the human world, for the moment, forgotten.

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riis City

10 years after the War of the Door, Eriisai calendar

50 years later, Mistran calendar

The Palace

Hellne, as she grew older, discovered she disliked dining alone. The only thing she was less fond of, was trying to have a meal with squalling brats roving around the room. So when she asked Yuenne to join her for dinner, it was understood that his wife Siia and their two young children would not be in attendance. But since this was a casual dinner ‘to catch up with my dear friend’ as she put it, and not a formal meal, Rhuun was expected to join them. At least, she thought, he knows how to comport himself at the table. She’d made certain of that.

She, if she was honest, preferred a formal dinner. There was always something to do or say or pass, and less opportunity for chatty talk. The rooms looked nicer too, lit for formal occasions with great glowing stones in black and cream—casting their soft yellow light—and matching black and cream silk hangings. Tonight was simple. The far wall, which once had opened onto a view of the valley and mountains beyond, now revealed the burning plains. At this time of evening, the wind and ever present dust were at their lowest ebb, so the silk sheers were drawn back. Low bowls of glowing stones cast a wavering yellow light which slowly grew stronger as the sun set behind its curtain of grey and yellow clouds. The long table was set with bread and meat—today shaped into neat squares, stacked on silver dishes. She and Yuenne had already taken their seats and sipped their water when Rhuun skidded into the room at a full run and slid into the chair next to his mother.

"I don't ask that you report your activities to me moment by moment, Rhuun. I do ask one thing, though." Hellne was only slightly annoyed. The boy was such a cloudhead, she was surprised he wasn't late more often. At least he was clean and his clothing didn't smell like smoke. She frowned at him. He was too tall for the chair, his knees hit the bottom of the table.

"Sorry, Mother," he muttered. "Lost track of time. Won't happen again." He poured her a splash of water before helping himself to a cup.
He tries
, she thought with a sigh. She watched him fiddle with his utensils, which looked child sized in his long fingers.
He looks more like his father all the time.
She tore her eyes away from him.

"As I was saying, Hellne, this time I'd like to go further out into the Vastness, and perhaps stay through a season." Counselor Yuenne spoke to the Queen, but his eyes drifted to her son. "Maybe one day you'll go with me, Rhuun. Wouldn't that be an adventure?"

Rhuun looked up and said, "I'm going through The Door one day. I'm going to see the humans."

Hellne dropped her fork and began to cough. Instantly Diia was at her side with water and a fresh
serviette.
When she had recovered, she said, "Please do forgive me, a speck of untranslated sand." With a bright smile, she turned to Rhuun. "What a funny thing to say! Now, Yuenne, a whole season—"

"What do you know about humans, Rhuun?" Yuenne asked. "I don't think they're very nice, do you?"

"Oh, I know all about humans," the boy told them. "They can be nice or nasty, and they're very clever. They have birds and ice." He turned back to his dinner, the topic depleted.

Hellne looked helplessly at her son. She couldn't fill his mouth with sand to stop his talking, but she could find out where he'd come up with birds and ice and ideas about the humans.

The evening continued with plans made for Yuenne to depart for the Vastness. That was one problem, at least, out of her hair.
Someone’s been chatty,
she thought.
Someone has my son’s ear. I'll have to have a talk with Diia. She can send one of the kitchen boys out after Rhuun and find out where he goes and who he sees. And who sees him.

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riis City

10 years after the War of the Door, Eriisai calendar

50 years later, Mistran calendar

The Quarter

A week later, Rhuun was surprised to find a door, a real ashboard door in place of Mother Jaa's old white curtain. He pulled the latch, and finding it unlocked, pushed it open.

"I like your door, Mother!" He was surprised to find a young couple with a child of about two (which took one look at him and began to howl).

He backed out, more confused than anything else. Had he forgotten which was her house? Was he on the wrong street?

One of her neighbors stuck her head out the door at the commotion.

"Where's Mother Jaa?" he asked.

The woman shrugged sadly. "She's gone."

"What do you mean, gone? She can't be gone. This is her house!"

"Not anymore." The father of the screaming child joined Rhuun on the street. His accent was heavy—they must have just recently moved to the Old City from the outskirts of the Vastness, the in-between place people were now calling the Edge. "This is ours, now. Mother, she's gone."

She was old,
thought Rhuun,
but I didn't know her time was close. I didn't even get to say goodbye!

"I'm sorry I just walked in on you," he told the man. "And that I scared your baby." The child was still wailing. "Mother Jaa was my friend. I didn't know she was gone."

The man said, "You're the one. Tall boy. Stay right here." He ducked back through the door, emerging a moment later with a small parcel wrapped in paper. "She left this for you."

Rhuun thanked the man and made his way home.
Gone? How could she be gone?
For once he didn’t notice the eyes on him, or respond to the smiles. He always ignored the frowns and dark looks anyway.

Once in his room, he opened the paper. It was her sewing kit, a neat cream colored ashboard box with a Rhuumice carved into the lid. He smiled at it, but felt a stone in his throat. He took the pain and put it away, just as she had shown him.

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riis City

10 years after the War of the Door, Eriisai calendar

50 years later, Mistran calendar

Queen Hellne’s receiving room

"Is it done?"

In response to Diia’s question, the young man pulled a flat, paper-wrapped parcel from his coat and handed it over.