The Stars Asunder: A New Novel of the Mageworlds (13 page)

Read The Stars Asunder: A New Novel of the Mageworlds Online

Authors: Debra Doyle,James D. Macdonald

BOOK: The Stars Asunder: A New Novel of the Mageworlds
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Or to come this way. Arekhon shouldn’t have been able to sponsor anyone into the family for another couple of decades, at least. Not unless—
“What else did you speak to the legalist about?”
“You know, Ela, you’re a lot harder to distract than Natelth.”
“’Rekhe. What else?”
He sighed. “I had him take my name out of the line for good this time. I can’t be a proper Third for Garrod sus-Demaizen if the fleet still has a claim on me. That’s where the sponsorship comes in—you’re going to be my replacement, if you’re willing.”
“Of course I’m willing,” she said impatiently. “Who wouldn’t be, in my position?”
“That’s what I mean. You’re on Fleet-Captain syn-Evarat’s list of possibles already, and probably on a couple of others the legalist didn’t tell me about. You might be better off waiting and taking sponsorship from somebody who’ll be around to help you afterward.”
“I’ll take it from you, if you don’t mind.” She spiked a bit of pickled wood-fungus on her fork, and added, “Besides—a patron in the fleet is good, but getting an early start and not owing favors to anyone over you is even better.”
“I thought you’d see it that way.”
“Clever man.” The pickle was sharp and bitter on her tongue. “I hope I’m not doing you a bad turn by letting you get away with it.”
 
Year 1123 E. R.
 
ERAASI: HANILAT STARPORT
ILDAON: ILDAON STARPORT
COUNTRY HOUSE OF ELEK GRIAT
 
T
heledau syn-Grevi sus-Radal kept his town house in Hanilat because such a residence was necessary for the head of the family’s pre-eminent line. Given a choice he would never have come to Hanilat at all, but since that was not possible—the sus-Radal were star-lords above all, and no one could rule them who turned his back on the port—he contented himself with making his official residence as much like home as he could. The carpets and wall hangings were thick-piled and patterned with bold north-country geometric designs; all the chairs and tables were made of pale wood carved in clean straight lines; and on the top floor, where otherwise an attic would have been, Thel had put in what might have been the only proper moonroom south of the mountains.
The room was circular, with a bare floor of polished board, and it stood empty of furnishings beneath a vaulted roof of clear glass. At home, on a night like this one, aurorae would ripple across the sky above the moonroom like luminous banners. Hanilat, lying nearer to the equator, provided no such display. The pale moon and the stars shone down to flood the room with grey unwavering light.
Thel spent the customary hour of respect in the room each evening nevertheless. So he had done when he was at home in the northland, where keeping the moonwatch in winter required both real devotion and a quilted jacket, and so he would do now, even if the sky over Hanilat was not the one he had been brought up to honor. Members of the sus-Radal fleet-family whose work brought them to Theledau outside the normal hours of business came to know the moonroom well.
Iulan Vai was one of those people. The town house recognized Agent-Principal Vai as one of those with the right of uncontested access, and let her come and go unchallenged in all the public and semi-private rooms.
Tonight she had come to Theledau halfway through the hour of respect. He didn’t think that Vai would have disturbed him for anything trivial, and her first words proved him right
“My lord,” she said, kneeling and rising again in one graceful movement. The moonlight threw her shadow onto the polished floor, sharp-edged as a black paper cutout. “One of sus-Demaizen’s Circle came into Hanilat this morning, and met with representatives of the sus-Peledaen.”
Theledau looked upward at the night beyond the skylight. Garrod, he thought. The reclusive master of Demaizen Old Hall was First of a Circle everyone suspected to be pushing at the borders of what was known about space and the Void. He was also touchily independent and famously eccentric—but all things changed with time.
Has the taker of no man’s money taken somebody’s coin at last?
“Who was Garrod’s Mage?” he asked.
“Sus-Khalgath’s brother. Arekhon.”
“It could have been nothing,” said Thel. He remembered the junior sus-Khalgath as a quiet young man, without any of Natelth’s forceful, ambitious nature … well suited, in fact, for the isolated life of a country Circle. “They’re still kin.”
Vai shook her head. “He met with the sus-Peledaen legalist first. And one of their pilots after.”
“Which one?”
“Inadi. Pilot-Ancillary. Junior, but rising fast. If Garrod’s decided to work with the sus-Peledaen after all, she could be his contact in the fleet.”
“The sus-Peledaen already control more trade routes than any other fleet-family on Eraasi,” Thel said irritably. “What use have they got for more?”
“Maybe it’s not another trade route. Maybe this time Garrod is onto something even bigger.”
“Find out what it is. Get it for us.”
Vai knelt and rose again. “As my lord commands.”
 
 
Elek Griat had ordered his driver to take him to the spaceport as soon as the working day ended. Now Ildaon’s sun was setting out beyond the western flats, and the chill of night was coming on, but Elek continued to wait.
Wild-Bird-at-Morning,
a passenger craft belonging to the sus-Dariv fleet-family, had reported to Ildaonese authorities upon entering the system, and among the messages transmitted for local recipients was a personal one directed to Elek: Jaf Otnal would be arriving on Ildaon as soon as the Bird’s first shuttle made port.
Elek hadn’t seen Jaf since the day the younger man left Ildaon for Ayarat and a position with the Zealous Endeavor. At that time Elek had been Jaf’s friend and mentor, and—much against the promptings of his own heart, which would just as soon have seen the younger man stay on Ildaon—he had advised in favor of the change. He was happy to learn from the contents of the message that his judgment had proved sound, and equally happy with the prospect of having Jaf’s company once again, however briefly.
He didn’t know exactly when the
Bird’s
passengers would arrive—the times from in-system to ground were not exact—but Jaf deserved to have someone waiting when he came in and cleared Ildaonese customs. There would be no trouble with the officials; Elek had made sure of that already. A few well-placed words, and the payment of a discreet “vehicular traffic fee,” had procured for him the right to park the groundcar at the edge of the landing field nearest to where the shuttle would touch down. It only remained for him to wait.
Shortly after sunset, the shuttle from
Wild-Bird-at-Morning
came down from the orbital docking station. At the same time a wing of supply craft lifted from the hard-packed earth, their bright trails sparkling across the dark blue of the evening sky, bound for the station with food and drink and export goods. At last, Jaf Otnal emerged from the entry hatch of the grounded shuttle.
Outside the groundcar, Elek’s driver held up a placard with “Otnal” written on it in block letters. Jaf spotted it and broke into a smile. Gesturing at the luggage carrier to follow, he hurried over to the parked groundcar. He appeared pleasantly surprised to find his friend waiting for him inside.
“I hadn’t expected to see you for another six hours,” Jaf said after they had embraced and exchanged greetings. He settled himself across from Elek in the car’s rear passenger compartment, where yellow-tinged lamps shed a warm, luxurious glow on plush seats and rosewood paneling. “This is an honor.”
“No more than you deserve,” said Elek. “I was delighted to learn that you’d come home for a visit.”
“And I’m delighted to see you, as well,” Jaf replied. “How are things going at the old firm?”
“Prosperously—I’m in the tower now, and well-placed to do even better. And you?”
Jaf glanced modestly downward. “Not quite so elevated yet. But I persevere.”
Elek caught his eye, and chuckled. “Judging from the priority treatment the Bird gave to your transmission, you’ve come a long way already.”
“I wouldn’t be the one to say so. I’ve done my work and drawn my pay.” Jaf paused, and looked up to meet Elek’s gaze directly. “But something has come up that has the potential to change everything. It’s risky, though. Very risky … I’d be grateful for your advice on how to handle sit.”
“Let’s not talk business yet,” Elek said, though Jaf’s confidence warmed him. “We’ve got a groundcar ride to the flyer port ahead of us, and more travel after that. We can spend the time catching up on old acquaintance, and discuss weightier matters after a good night’s sleep.”
 
 
When the last of the cordial was gone, Elaeli went back with Arekhon to his room in the Court’s guesthouse. She had known since their days together on
Ribbon-of-Starlight
that any dealings she had with him would be like this—but she always forgot, in between times, how much she enjoyed being with him.
“And just as well, too,” she concluded some time later, as she lay on the bed in a state of pleasant exhaustion. “Considering the frustration if I had to keep on remembering it for … how long has it been this time?”
“Two years,” he murmured drowsily. “Plus three months and four days.” His head rested on her shoulder, the dark straight hair spreading out like a fan across her breast. He’d let his hair grow since leaving the fleet; in the old days he’d worn it clipped even shorter than her own loose curls.
She laughed under her breath. “I suppose you found a calendar and worked it out.”
“That’s right.” He was two-thirds asleep, and she wondered if he was truly listening to himself any more. He yawned, a warm breath against her sweat-dampened skin, and added, “All your fault.”
“My fault? How did that happen, ’Rekhe?”
The question seemed to wake him up—or maybe he hadn’t been as near to sleep as she’d thought, after all. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her.
“I started calculating in earnest after the last time I came into Hanilat on Circle business,” he said. “When I found out I’d missed seeing you by half a day.”
There was no laughter in his eyes this time. Elaeli stroked his dark hair back from his face by way of apology.
“Syn-Evarat took the fleet out of port early,” she said. “Somebody slipped him word that the sus-Radal were planning to use our jump-points and take out a convoy ahead of us. I tried to make a voice-call to Demaizen, for a chance to talk with you for a few minutes before we left, but the woman I spoke to said you weren’t there.”
“I would have been on the road by then.”
“I couldn’t have waited even if I’d known.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “Did you beat them to the jump? I dreamed of fires and explosions all that night, but I couldn’t tell whether it was a true vision or only my disappointment telling lies.”
“We had a bit of a chase,” she admitted. “Syn-Evarat sent a guardship and a couple of scouts up ahead of the convoy to make certain the jump-point was clear. Turned out the sus-Radal had thought of the same thing.”
“They do keep on trying, don’t they?”
“There’s only so much trade to go around,” she said. “And it opens up so slowly …”
“That could change.”
He was smiling again. Elaeli thought about his visit to the sus-Peledaen legalist, and about whatever it was that he’d talked Natelth out of before dinner, and about his new position in the Demaizen Circle. She sat up and looked at him sharply.
“Garrod’s working on something big, isn’t he?”
Arekhon lay back on the pillow. He looked pleased with himself, Elaeli thought. Hardly fair, considering what holding named rank in Garrod’s Circle was likely to entail, but that was ’Rekhe for you.
“Garrod,” said Arekhon simply, “thinks that the sundered half of the galaxy may not be barren after all.”
“He’s not the first one to think that,” Elaeli said. She felt cold already—the air circulating in the guesthouse bedroom made the hairs along her arms and spine stir and stand up—but she went ahead and asked the next question anyway. “What makes Garrod’s theory different from all the rest of them?”
“Nothing.” Now ’Rekhe was looking smug and pleased and excited all at once, and Elaeli would have slapped him for it if she’d thought it would do any good. “But this time Garrod plans to walk there and find out.”
 
 
The groundcar reached Elek Griat’s country house at daybreak, after a long night journey by flyer and a cross-country drive afterward. The land was a former working farm, but the fields and farmhouses had been replaced by new landscaping and structures built to Elek’s own design. The high-walled grounds, with their acres of fruit trees watered by swift-running streams, and the sprawling manor house itself, pink-lit with the glow of the rising sun, were all supported by Elek’s position at Prosperous Unity Mercantile.
Elek had long wished that he could share his happiness in acquiring such a property with his friend and former protege, but he’d never had much hope of doing so. Now that the opportunity had arisen, he found himself watching Jaf keenly for his reactions—both to the estate itself and to the not-inconsiderable achievement that it represented. Nor did the younger man disappoint him.
“You have done well for yourself since we parted,” Jaf said as the groundcar purred up the long driveway. “It surpasses anything I’ve achieved so far, that’s for certain.”
“I’m sure Ayarat has any number of places that are equally appealing, or that can be made so. Give yourself a bit more time.”
As always when returning home after a long journey, Elek went first to his devotions. Those, too, had changed in outward form—though not in substance—since Jaf had last attended them in his company. The family shrines, that had been so cramped and ill-dignified in their old quarters, now occupied a wing on the ground floor. A spacious, high-windowed gallery held all the plaques and icons, the altars, urns, and boxes, that Elek had gathered together and maintained over the years.
With Jaf following along respectfully, Elek approached the table of the Eldest, and placed on it a single white flower. Then he knelt, bowed his head, and thanked all the old ones for his success, for the visit of his friend, and for his current prosperity. A bit of smugness entered his thoughts at that juncture, but he promptly banished it, and asked instead for continued good fortune.

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