The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (49 page)

“Spring is
KhaBull
is usually wet,
sidi.
We are enjoying an early summer. But this…” He had also noticed the anxiety of
his horses, had motioned to his aides to round them up for shelter. “This sky
is most unusual.”

The Captain nodded once.
“Sidalady
tigress, I need to you make
your way back to the Governor’s residence.” And with that, he spun on his heel
and stepped toward the crowds. Fallon Waterford jogged at his side, wringing
her laces, package safely tucked under one arm.

“Do you want me to find the
others, sir?”

“No, I want you to make your way
back to the residence.”

 
“But you told us to meet at the closing of the
Gardens,
sir. They won’t be expecting to
go back so soon…”

This should not be hard,
he fumed quietly, fists clenching as he
walked.
Just do as you’re told.

“I will take care of that. Now
go.”

He lengthened his stride, not
rushing, but moving very purposefully and fast. The clouds were almost upon
them. People laughed, shouted, complained as they darted to and fro amongst the
stalls, finishing up their shopping and heading home after an abbreviated day
out. There were just so many people.

“But what if –“

“The markets are not a safe place
for you at the moment. Please,
sidala,
just do as I ask.” The crowds, the blackening sky, no night-blue cloak.

“Is Kerris calling this?”

He was not sure why he was
surprised, but he was, and he stopped in his track, swinging around to glare at
her. His jaw moved and tightened, his brow drawn and dark, but he could not be
angry with her.

“No.” He said, too quickly. He
sighed, furious with his own impatience. “Maybe. I - I do not know,
sidala,”
he measured his words
carefully. “But if he is, then this is dangerous, and I need to find him.”

“I can help.”

“You can die.”

 
“I won’t die. Promise.”

A flash of lightning overhead,
and Kirin turned away from the tigress and pushed his way into the crowd.

***

“As good as new,” said the Seer
with a smile.

“I told you. You should listen to
me.” Ursa tossed her head, smug with satisfaction as they stepped from the
seamstress’ shop and into the heart of the marketplace. It had taken little
more than an hour, as the seamstress had used very fine, strong threads and
sewn the tear in the glove with tiny, precise stitches. Her belly was rumbling
now, and she had a sudden urge for curried goat and beer. She was about to
suggest they use the Governor’s rings for more than just thread when a closing
rumble of thunder shook the afternoon sky.

She frowned. Tents, banners and
flags all whipped in the sudden wind, a hot desert wind that had not been there
when they had entered the shop. From the squalls lifting the dust off the
street, the sky beyond the yellow buildings was as black as night, with great
sooty clouds billowing like an ocean hitting the shore. She had only seen the
ocean once in her life. She never wanted to see such a thing again. It had
disturbed her to her very core.

She realized that the Seer was
not with her.

“Idiot! What are you doing now?!”
she snarled, as she scanned her wake for the height of him, for a glimpse of
his heavy brown cloak, and spied him through the rushing bodies, still standing
outside the front door of the seamstress’ shop. Snorting, she marched back,
ready to smack him with the heel of her hand.

He wasn’t looking at her.

She scowled. “What now?”

“This is not a natural storm,” he
said, his voice odd and otherwordly. His good eye glinted, sharp and shiny as a
falcon’s. “It is Alchemy, and the Captain’s brother is in danger of it.

“Kerris?” She wrinkled her nose,
thinking, then her eyes flashed at him. “Kerris is doing this?!”

“Not doing this,” he muttered,
but she was already gone, disappearing into the crowds like a bolt of
lightning, which was ironic, for at that moment, a bolt of lightning sliced
across the skies, it’s roar so loud overhead that shoppers and merchants alike
ducked for cover.

He flexed the leather on the palm
of his glove to see if it would hold, took a deep breath, and pushed after her
into the
Waterless Gardens.

***

The
Waterless Gardens
were no longer waterless.

The first drops were large, warm
and heavy, splattering the dusty roads like stones, leaving pits and dark
circles on the ground. Then they came faster, not as thick, but long and sleek,
a volley of arrows hitting road and pelt alike in their sharpness. And then
faster still, smaller, lighter but denser now, a veritable cloak of water
spilling from the ink black sky, little shards of lightning in each drop.

The Captain spied him in the
center of the market square, a flap of night-blue under a huge limestone
carving of a winged lion. People moved to and fro around him, not bothered by
his presence, probably not really thinking he was a lion at all as they tried vainly
to get out of the downpour, while he stood completely still within it, face
upended to greet the rain, smiling.

Kirin slowed his pace, grateful
that his brother’s arms were still at his side. He glanced around at the market
stalls, marched over to one, and pulled his short sword from its sheath. Fallon
held her breath as, in one smooth flashing arc, he swung the sword and sliced a
length of rope that held a variety of dried meats. The meats fell to the
ground, and a spotted head peeked out of the canopy, about to complain but took
one look at Imperial Gold and popped back in again. The Captain swiftly wound
the rope palm to elbow and back again. As he turned to his brother, his hands
began fashioning a slipknot out of one end of it, and Fallon could not help it
as her heart leaped into her throat.

“Kerris,” said Kirin, in a voice
both soft and firm. “We need to go back to the Governor’s residence now.”

“Yes,” said Kerris, still smiling
at the sky, but he made no move to leave. The rain had slicked the pelt on his
face, so that he looked like clay.

“Give me your hands,” said Kirin,
and his brother obliged, not really seeing him, absorbed in something no one
else was seeing. The knots slipped over first one grey wrist, then the other,
and the tigress gasped when the Captain pulled them tight, binding his
brother’s hands like a prisoner. Even still, Kerris did not seem to notice.
Once, twice, three times, he wrapped the rope round his brother’s waist and
with one final tug, the Captain secured Kerris’ hands to his body.

“There,” said Kirin, his tone
reassuring and strong. “Safe. Let’s get you back to the residence, shall we?
Kerris, look at me.”

“She’s calling.”

“I know. Look at me.” The golden
hand reached up and drew the cloak’s hood over his brother’s head, pulling it
low as to obscure the sight of the clouds from his eyes. “I bought the horses.”

She could see the battle as
Kerris fought to come back from wherever it was that he had been. “Horses?”

“Yes. The desert horses. They’ll
do nicely for this next leg of the journey. Thank you for finding them.”

Kerris frowned and looked back up
at the sky, but Kirin put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled his
attention earthward.

“And the new clothing –
that should have been delivered by now. Let’s go check, shall we? Come, now.
Move your feet.”

Kerris obeyed, turning stiffly as
if carved from stone, falling in at his brother’s side and together they began
to slosh their way out of the
Waterless
Gardens.
Fallon caught a glimpse of silver – Ursa Laenskaya on the far
side of the market square, her own cloak drawn, hand on the hilt of her sword,
pale eyes narrowed and scornful. Defensively, the tigress slipped in next to
the brothers, amazed to hear the Captain still talking as one would to a
frightened child or wild animal one was trying to tame.

“And perhaps there is cocoa in
the kitchens as well. I for one could use a large mug of cocoa. All this water
is simply dreadful for the pelt, not to mention the mane –“

The dark sky lit up as lightning
forked overhead, directly above the market square, and its lover and constant
companion, thunder, actually shattered two windows high above them. Fallon
flinched, ducked as glass rained down on her head, and when she opened her
eyes, she was surprised, no –
amazed
to see sparks crackling and leaping along the market’s dusty road towards them.

No,
she corrected herself again. Towards Kerris.

Even bound like a trussed lamb,
he was now the very picture of tension. He was holding his breath, every muscle
taut, fingers stretched wide over the ground, raining water downward, while
calling the sparks upward, up and into the palms of his bound hands. They
crackled and buzzed like lightning rods. The clouds grinned wickedly overhead.

“Captain,” she whimpered. Her
hair was standing on end.

And just like back in
Sha’Hadin
when the Seer’s life hung in
the balance, the Captain of the Guard balled up his fist and sent it thudding
into his brother’s abdomen, causing him to buckle forward, sparks flying in all
directions. Lightning leapt from cloud to cloud, the wind howled at them, and
Kirin hit him again, this time behind the ear and the grey lion dropped like a
stone into waiting Imperial gold.

Immediately, the howling quieted
and the grotesquely grinning clouds shrank back, leaving wave upon wave of rain
and rain only, a wide-eyed tigress and two brothers huddled in the streets.

***

Golden eyes watched from a
shadowed awning, until brown leather blocked the view. Sireth benAramis leaned
against the wall, arms folded across his chest, dark mane dripping with
rainwater. He cocked his head and smiled at her.

“Impressive, wasn’t it?” he
purred.

She smiled back, a crooked smile
that pulled into one cheek. “Lions are impressive,
sidi,
no matter what the circumstance.”

“Indeed. The First Mage has
trained you well. Has he any idea of the breadth of your powers?”

“Powers,
sidi?”

“What are you? Earth?”

“Of course.”

“You are helped by Fire and you
weaken Metal. Naturally.” He looked at his hand, began to pull at the fingers
of one glove. Her smile faltered. “What do you have under your arm?”

“Supplies,
sidi.
Nothing more.”

Free of their prison, his long
speckled fingers reached for her, knowing she was far too proud to pull away.
He brushed her package.

“Ah, Fire Powder. Anticipating
rats, are you?”

“Danger is a constant companion
is the Dry Provinces.”

“Yes.” His fingers reached to her
forehead, her cheek, her brow, not touching but hovering just above, causing
the tiny hairs of her face to stand on end as they traveled.

Still, her mask would not crack.
In fact, she smiled all the more.

The fingers reached further
still, to the strands of spider silk holding the little red pouch.

“And this,
sidala?
Why are you never without this?”

“It protects me. The way a snow
leopard protects a priest.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you wish to kiss me again,
sidi?
Is that why you are here?”

His own smile was very wide now,
his good eye glittering and dangerous. “It was a good kiss, yes?”

“Yes.” She leaned closer towards
him. “It was.”

He leaned closer towards her.
Their lips were but inches apart. “Leave them alone, both of them, or I will
kill you.”

“Of course.”

And he pulled on his glove and
left the wall and the Alchemist and there were no longer lions on the street.

***

Dearest Mummie,

I’m not certain when I’ll be
back. Kirin seems to think this will take some time. Not to worry. I have Quiz.
He’ll see to it that I’m safe. Seeing lots of sights. Maybe I’ll find something
extraordinary for you.

Love you forever,

Your Kerris

***

There was indeed hot cocoa in the
kitchens of the Governor’s residence, and she walked very slowly, balancing
three frothy mugs in her hands. The house was very large, with golden-guilt
statues, cedar doors and stained windows, and the terracotta floors were cool
to the step, even with fires roaring in almost every room. The servants had
offered to carry them for her, but being the youngest of six, she was more than
used to doing things on her own. A cornerstone of her independent spirit, she’d
always reckoned. Her family had never really known how it had shaped her. She’d
learned to obey quickly, get whatever chore done and out of the way so she’d
have more time alone, to wander and get lost, and then found again in the most
miraculous ways. Compliance secured freedom, or a form of it.

She paused at the great wooden
door, both hands full of ceramic. She tried transferring all three mugs into
one hand, but that only served to slop a splash of brown onto the tile. She
tried kicking the door with her foot, but it was slippered at the moment, and
the soft silk made no sound against the wood. She tried tapping it with her
chin, her elbow, was even contemplating banging the door with her forehead,
when, as she leaned in to do so, she heard a strange and wonderful sound.

The Captain of the Guard was
singing.

She knew it was he and not
Kerris, for Kerris sang always, and was completely sure of notes, had an
intuitive feel for melody and was comfortable with the range of his voice. But
this was different, tentative and soft, like a new father singing kitten songs
to a firstborn. Or, she realized, an older brother singing those same songs to
comfort a distraught younger one.