Chapter Five
in the morning, Val was awake and out of bed shortly after sunrise. No one was in the small family dining room having breakfast, but servants hastily brought her a plate of food, which she scarcely tasted. It wasn’t long before she was sitting on a wooden bench in the courtyard, staring moodily at the placid water feature and waiting for the first omnibus of the day to show up.
It lumbered up the long drive fifteen minutes later, the gas-powered motor almost noiseless. Probably twenty people disembarked—more palace staff, as well as petitioners determined to get an early audience with Darien—and a handful climbed on. The interior was empty enough that it seemed much more spacious than its horse-drawn counterparts, though Val guessed it would feel a lot less roomy when the regular crowds started boarding.
In a few minutes, they were headed back down the mountain road, swaying on the wider turns and encountering an increasing level of traffic going the other way. Val gazed sightlessly out the window as the driver turned west onto the Cinque, heading toward the wealthy districts she remembered from her childhood. She knew she should be paying attention to the changes in the familiar skyline, noting new buildings and parks, nodding approvingly at some municipal improvement. But she couldn’t concentrate on anything over the low buzz of alarm in her head.
Other passengers hopped on and off, and the seats started filling up. But almost everyone exited when Val did, at the Plaza of Women. It was a large, paved open-air market where every curve and corner was crammed with booths and wagons selling an amazing array of offerings. When she’d been a little girl, it had been her favorite spot in the city, filled with the promise of such rich delights. Who knew what merchant would be selling a beautiful silver bracelet just right for a child’s wrist? Who could guess what vendor might be offering sweet cakes or honeyed bread, treats that an indulgent parent would buy after only a few pleas?
Her mother could almost always be counted on to get Val a trinket or at least a piece of candy. But the ideal companion was her father, though he rarely had the time to take her on frivolous excursions. If he had decided to spend the day with her, he would give her every scrap of his attention. He would stop to look over any piece of merchandise, he would encourage her to try any item that caught her fancy. He wasn’t a profligate spender, but he would buy her something on every outing. He would gravely tell her the budget for the day, and they would pause at every booth that interested them, and Val would make a list of the things she wanted the most. Then they would stop at one of the outdoor cafés and have flavored ices or spiced tea and debate the attractions of every item on her list. She always came away feeling deeply satisfied, certain she had chosen wisely, happy with her purchases. She had always come away secure in the knowledge that her father loved her.
Well. It had been a long time since anyone had showered her with useless presents and made her feel like she was the center of the world. She shook her head and walked on.
She didn’t know if Darien had set a guard to trail after her. It seemed like the sort of thing he might do just as a general precaution. She didn’t have the skills to elude a truly skilled watcher, but she also didn’t have to make it easy for anyone to keep track of her. She stopped at a few booths, ducked into a couple of the more permanent storefronts, wound around the backs of a couple of buildings, and attached herself to a small vivacious crowd of brightly dressed young women who tumbled through the narrow streets like escaping toddlers. When they moved as one body toward an oncoming omnibus, she followed them, and managed to be in the very middle of the group as they scrambled aboard. No one who looked like a soldier boarded in their wake.
The large elaymotive rocked gently as it headed south, stopping so often that Val sometimes wondered if it would be faster to walk. The girls were still chattering together in high, excited voices when the bus made its gradual turn left to travel along the southernmost leg of the Cinque. Val slipped off as five people boarded, hoping she looked inconspicuous, and began hiking down a narrow side street that pointed in a northeasterly direction.
The first few blocks were a little dicey, since the southside slums lay only a mile or so away, but soon enough she was in a respectable part of town. There were many small family dwellings, some storefronts and corner markets, and buildings that looked like schools and offices. Not a bad place to live, her father had said, if you didn’t mind being surrounded by stone and bare dirt. If you didn’t care if you never saw a rosebush or could rest your hand against a tree.
But then there it was, just ahead of her, a small green haven in the middle of a seemingly endless stretch of urban dreariness. Her father and Taro had decided one day that they would commission a park and build it in a neighborhood that offered no similar amenities. They would fill it with greenery—torz flowers and hunti trees—and make it a restful haven.
The trees that ringed the spot had grown significantly since she had last visited, creating a curtain of low branches she had to push aside to step into the velvety green heart of the park. On this early summer day in Quinnahunti, the whole space was carpeted in thick grass, with an inner perimeter of flowering bushes that offered a pleasing mix of scents and colors. Just inside the circle of bushes was a ring of five wooden benches, a bit battered from years of exposure to the weather, but still inviting to the footsore wanderer. Each one was a different color to correspond with the elemental affiliations—white for elay, blue for coru, red for sweela, green for torz, and black for hunti.
In the center of the enclosure was a pot-bellied metal cauldron that came up to Val’s knees. It was sheltered by a peaked wooden roof, but otherwise wholly open to the elements. Inside the cauldron, she knew, were hundreds of blessing coins, ready for anyone to pull if they came to the park and needed reassurance or guidance. Because this place was a temple as well as a sanctuary.
Although for Val, it had always, first and foremost, been a sanctuary—the place she went when there was no other solace, no other rest. When she was a child, she had run away one day after an argument with her mother, and this was where she had gone. Her father had found her within the hour. After he died, when Val and her mother were living in the town house and Darien was so busy attending King Vernon, Val had visited the park almost daily. One summer evening she had even spent the night there, sleeping on the hunti bench as the anxious stars peered down. She had been surprised, when she returned home in the morning, to find her mother so worried. I thought you would realize I was at the park. Even Darien, who seemed to have abandoned her, knew that this was the place Val would go when she was troubled and on edge.
Sebastian certainly knew.
She took a seat on the hunti bench and waited.
Barely an hour had passed before she heard footsteps approaching at a steady pace. She stood up and faced the small break in the treeline that led to the street. She had had time to compose herself, but it hardly mattered. Sebastian could always read the emotions on her face.
Another moment, and he was inside the park. He was dressed in his usual careless style, a nondescript brown jacket over wrinkled trousers; his dark red hair was long enough to brush his shoulders and looked as if he might have forgotten to comb it this morning. But he was smiling as he threw his hands in the air.
“Finally! I’ve been here every afternoon for the past nineday. What took you so long?”
“I wasn’t even sure you knew I was in the city.”
“And that’s another thing! Why didn’t you tell me you’d be in Chialto?”
“I didn’t want to come. But Mirti made me, and I didn’t have time to let you know I would be here.”
He cocked his head to one side. “You could have sent a note once you arrived.”
“I’ve barely had time to think, let alone get in touch with anyone.”
“How long are you staying? Let me guess, you’re planning to leave tomorrow.”
She couldn’t help a wry smile. “If I had my way,” she agreed. “But Darien is trying to convince me to spend a quintile in the city. He seems worried that I’m isolated and lonely, that I need to be out in society more.”
“Finally, something Darien and I agree on.”
“I’m not isolated and lonely! There are people everywhere and there’s a great deal to do.”
Sebastian bestowed a warm smile on her. “But Valentina Serlast should be at court, dining with rich merchants and clever politicians and taking up the accustomed life of a daughter of the Five Families.”
“You know I’ve never cared about that.”
“You haven’t,” he said. “But you deserve a better life than the one you’ve been living.”
“I don’t think,” she said, “that you should be giving other people advice about how to live their lives.”
His smile turned devilish. “Now what would bring you to that conclusion?”
“You’re smuggling sirix, aren’t you?”
He burst out laughing. “That’s my Tina. Always straight to the point.”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is?”
“Oh, there are a few hazards on the road, but so far the Soechins selling the merchandise have been trustworthy enough. No one’s knifed anyone in the back, anyway, as far as I know.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said. “Darien has started to pay attention. He thinks the Soechins blame the Welchins for providing open harbors to the smugglers, and he wants to shut down the illegal operations so there isn’t some kind of diplomatic crisis.”
Sebastian put a hand to his chest. “My heart pounds in fear!”
“Don’t be stupid,” she said sharply. “You know Darien can be relentless. And he’s the king now. He’s got all the resources of the country behind him. If he realizes you’re involved—”
Sebastian shrugged. “Darien has never liked me. He’ll hardly think less of me for being a free trader.”
“I don’t care what he thinks of you! I care what he might do to you!”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you. I’m careful. I don’t think Darien’s spies will catch me.”
She stared at him. “You’re never careful.”
He laughed. “It only seems that way to you because you’re so cautious about everything. In fact, I have a very well-developed sense of self-preservation. I am smart about my choices, and I minimize my risks. I’ll be fine.”
“But Sebastian,” she said helplessly. “Why sirix? Why smuggling?”
He glanced over his shoulder and nodded at the sweela bench, so they sat down side by side. The sun was beaming enthusiastically, but the trees provided just enough shade to keep the temperature tolerable.
“Oh, you know that I’m too restless for an ordinary job and a steady life,” he said. “This kind of work suits me. I like the buying and selling. I like finding the merchandise and matching it to the outlet. I like putting puzzle pieces together. Who would want this? How much would they pay?”
“Very well, but there are plenty of traders who handle legal goods, and they’re traveling all across Welce, and they seem to lead fine lives.”
He shrugged and spread his hands. “There’s no edge to it. It’s too easy. The contraband goods—I like that I have to be one step ahead, that I always have to be watching, that there could be a trap behind any door. It keeps me on my mettle. It makes every day exciting.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t understand it. Oh, she understood that Sebastian felt that way. He had said variants of the same thing dozens of times in the past nineteen years. But it made no sense to her. She had never been attracted to risk. Never seduced by danger. She was happiest when she felt most secure. “But why sirix? If it has to be something illegal, why not pick something that won’t start a war at the border?”
His lively, laughing face became unexpectedly somber. “I’ve tried other contraband,” he admitted. “Veneben. Renaissance. Drugs are a whole lot easier than liquor to transport and sell. The packages are smaller and the buyers are numerous.”
She was shocked. She’d known he dabbled in illicit activities, but she hadn’t realized which ones. “But veneben is—and renaissance—”
“I know. I’d tried them myself, but only a few times. They’re not my style, though I can see why people get addicted.” He sobered still more. “That’s what stopped me. Meeting a couple of addicts. I’d always thought—” He shrugged. “I’m nobody’s moral compass. If a man has a craving and I have the goods, why shouldn’t I sell him what he wants? But then I saw—”He shook his head. “So I decided I didn’t want to be part of that chain any more. I didn’t want to be the link that enabled that kind of devastation.”
Val remembered how quickly the sirix had gone to her head when she and Corene were at Geoffrey’s restaurant yesterday. “I’m not sure your current product is much better.”
Sebastian was grinning again. “Maybe, but it’s more elegant, you have to agree! And sirix is a banquet for the senses. The taste, the smell, the color, the effect—it’s all exquisite. As you should know, since you tried a sample of it for yourself.”
“Did you follow me yesterday? Is that how you found me?”
He burst out laughing. “I did not! It was absolute random chance that brought us to Geoffrey’s place at the same time. I was making a delivery and Geoffrey was distracted by his clients, so I peered into the taproom to see who had made such an impression on him—”
“It was Corene, not me. He scarcely noticed me.”
“His error, then.”
“Well, Corene is pretty hard to overlook.”
He smiled at her. “You might not be as striking as the princess, but I’d pick you over her any day.”
She scoffed. “Only because you don’t want to be competing with another sweela person who might get all the attention.”
He was still watching her. “That’s it, of course. That’s the only reason.”
Speaking of outsize sweela personalities . . . “I saw Nelson at the coronation the other day.”
Sebastian nodded. “We have dinner from time to time.”
Nelson was head of the Ardelays, the hot-headed and often feckless sweela clan famous for their indiscretions. As far as Val knew, Nelson had never sired any illegitimate children, but Ardelay bastards could be found across Welce. Nelson had always treated them like any other member of the family. He had been particularly kind to Sebastian when he was young and practically an orphan—his mother dead, his father largely absent.
“And Nelson doesn’t lecture you about your illegal activities?”
“It’s possible he doesn’t know about them.”
“I would guess Nelson knows a lot more than you might think.”
Sebastian grinned. “Maybe. But he himself is not above the shady deal now and then, so he’s unlikely to tell anyone else how to behave.”
“I don’t think Nelson is smuggling.”
“Maybe not, but I’d be surprised if he hadn’t bought a cask or two of illegal sirix. I think he delights in annoying Darien, at least in small ways.”
She snorted. “Everyone delights in annoying Darien. Or trying to. It’s very hard to throw him off balance.”
Sebastian studied her for a moment. “So how are you doing? Are you getting along with your brother? Do you think you’ll be able to enjoy your time in the city?”
“I don’t know. I’m not very happy. I’ll try.”
“I can’t really stroll up to the palace when I want to see you.”
“You were there for the coronation, weren’t you?”
“Ha, you did see me! You looked away so fast I couldn’t be sure.”
“I didn’t want anyone else to notice you! And this is before I knew about the sirix. I just knew you were involved in something criminal.”
“My point stands. I can’t come calling on you like a scion of the Five Families. How will I see you again?’
She glanced around the park. “We can meet here every firstday.”
“That would work. Say, noon?”
She stood up, smoothing down the front of her tunic. “All right. I’ll see you next firstday. But now I need to get back to the palace.”
Sebastian jumped to his feet and gestured at the cauldron. “Since we’re here, shouldn’t we draw blessings for each other?”
She was already headed that way. It was a ritual they often observed when they were together. It was ridiculous, she knew, but she always preferred the blessings that came to her by way of Sebastian. “Of course.”
The big kettle was so squat, and the protective overhang so low, that they had to crouch on either side of it. Val reached in and mixed the coins, letting them slide between her fingers and over her palms. “Just one, or three?” she asked.
“Just one for today.”
She made her choice and laughed when she glanced at the glyph in her hand. “Honesty.”
“Hey, I always tell you the truth.”
“I don’t suppose you can say that about anyone else.”
“Not if I’m actually being honest.” He plunged his hand into the cauldron, giving the coins a vigorous stir before drawing one out. “And for you—” He presented the disk with a flourish.
“Loyalty,” she said. It was the blessing they shared, the single trait in all of human existence that they had in common. “Did you cheat?”
“How could I cheat? You were here before I was! I haven’t had a chance to approach the barrel in secret.”
“You could have stopped at another temple on the way, and picked through the coins, and then put this one in your pocket.”
“Would an honest man do that?”
He hadn’t denied it. She was pretty sure she was right, and she should have been scolding him, but she was just a little pleased that he’d gone to the effort. She offered him the coin she’d drawn. “Keep it or throw it back?”
“Keep it,” he replied, taking it from her. “I don’t think you’ve ever pulled honesty for me before. Do you want this one?”
“Thank you, but I already have the blessing of loyalty.”
“Always and forever.”
He tossed the disk into the pot. They began strolling back toward the street, not moving too quickly.
“Did you take the omnibus?” he asked. “I’ll walk you to the stop.”
“I can’t get over how many elaymotives there are on the Cinque these days,” she said. “Do you drive?”
“I do. Very fast. I can take you out in one someday if you like.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Next firstday, then, when I see you.”
She smiled. “Maybe I will enjoy a whole quintile in Chialto.”