“Yoshani and I were doing a little weeding last night and unearthed this stash of coins. We thought having a bit of gold would smooth the way once you get to where you’re going.”
“Be well, Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar,” Yoshani said. “I hope we meet again.”
She blinked back tears and walked over to where Lynnea and Sebastian waited.
“Here,” Lynnea said, holding out a book. “I know you can’t carry much, but this is my favorite book of stories. I thought Sholeh would enjoy them.”
“Glorianna is waiting for you at the edge of the road,” Sebastian said. “I’ll walk you up there.”
He took her elbow before she could decline the offer. As soon as they rounded the corner of the house and were out of sight of the others, he stopped and slipped a small cloth bag into the pack.
“One-shot bridge to the Den,” he said. “Heart’s Justice is supposed to take you where you’re meant to be, so you’re supposed to handle whatever hardships come your way. But if you’re in danger, Zhahar, if your lives are at risk, Sholeh or Zeela can use the bridge to cross over, and we’ll deal with the consequences.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “All of you.”
He kissed her cheek, then led her halfway to where Glorianna waited.
She walked the rest of the way alone—and not alone. One who was three. Three who were one.
There were a lot of things she wanted to say to Lee’s sister, but none of them were appropriate—and probably didn’t matter now.
Our life, our journey, our choice.
“Let your heart travel lightly,” Glorianna Belladonna said. “Because what you bring with you becomes part of the landscape.”
*What do we want to bring with us?* Zhahar asked her sisters.
::Hope,:: Sholeh whispered.
=Courage,= Zeela said.
*Heart,* Zhahar added. Then she said to the Guide of the Heart, “We’re ready.”
Glorianna smiled. “Yes, you are. Ephemera, hear me.”
The wind blew over her skin, under her skin. The ground felt soft, fluid. The world faded and became a white sheet where images flashed by almost too fast for them to see. A dark lake and two huge black stones rising out of the water. A desert of rust-colored sand. A harbor town that made them uneasy. Another harbor town that looked bright and happy. A valley full of fog. Bobbing lights and music.
Images pulled at one or the other of them, but not all of them. And then…
Zhahar felt something snag her as the ground became so fluid it disappeared. She screamed—and heard Sholeh and Zeela scream too.
She stumbled and almost stepped on a dead, bloated cat, scattering the rats that had come for a meal.
Zeela came into view, steadying them as they walked out of the alley and looked around.
=Late afternoon, if I can trust the position of the sun and the feel of the day,= she said.
*Then we’re nowhere near Aurora,* Zhahar said. *But it has the cool feel of autumn here too. Sholeh? Are you all right?*
::Yes.::
Zeela wasn’t sure of that, but being the one in view, she had to pay attention to where they were and leave Sholeh to Zhahar.
A dark place. She could feel it. It looked like a poorer section of town, but that wouldn’t have made it dark. Sometimes the fanciest parts of a town were also the darkest. This felt more like a shadow street that had gone septic.
*Shadow street?* Zhahar asked.
=Couldn’t be.= But it feels like one. Blowing out a breath, Zeela headed for a group of men working around an empty lot in the middle of the block, then veered toward the women who were watching the workers from across the street.
“What happened?” she asked a middle-aged woman.
“Strangers took over a house a while back,” the woman replied. “Nasty pieces of work, every one of them. Then one night they disappeared—and the house with them. Pipes were ripped open and we had water and sewage filling up the house’s cellar and pouring out into the street. Was worth a demon’s ransom to get the city workers to come out here and begin fixing things. Had to petition a Shaman before we got any help, and had to hire the Knife Guild to protect the workers, because some bad things had happened on this street. Wasn’t like that before the strangers arrived, even if it was a shadow street.”
Zeela swayed and wished she’d taken time for a sip of water and a bite of food. Not that she would have taken either in that stinking alley, but…
Shaman. Knife. Shadow street.
“What is this place?” she asked. When the woman, who had sounded friendly enough, gave her a less-than-friendly look, she added hurriedly, “I just arrived. Was left here, actually, and wasn’t told the name of the town.”
The woman bobbed her head once. After a minute during which they both watched the workers, she said, “This is part of the city of Vision. You’ve heard of Vision?”
Zeela nodded, not sure if her heart was pounding so hard because of her feelings or because of her sisters. “In the city of Vision, you can find only what you can see.”
“That’s right.” The woman looked her over. “There’s lodgings at the end of the street. Not the cleanest place, but it won’t cost you much to stay there.”
“Appreciate the information. I’ll go down and see if they have any rooms available.” She narrowed her eyes and studied the man who didn’t look like he was doing anything useful, but his eyes never stopped scanning the street. He wasn’t the Knife who had helped them get out of Vision, but having that much of an introduction couldn’t hurt. “But first I need to talk to a man about a job.”
Chapter 35
Lee settled the island a few steps away from the cottage he now called home, picked up the cloth-covered bundle that contained his new roommate, hurried off the island, and rushed to get inside.
But he still wasn’t quick enough.
“Lee?” Danyal called from the large screened patio that connected their cottages.
Sighing, Lee changed directions and joined Danyal on the patio. It was too chilly to sit outside for pleasure, so Danyal must have been waiting for him to return.
“We’re going to have to get a hook for that door.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the patio door and tried to ignore Danyal’s palpable curiosity. Then he sighed again, set the bundle on the table, and removed the cloth covering partway.
The lavender and white keet began a muttering scold—the same sound he’d been making since Nadia put the traveling cage on the island and left.
“Watch him, will you?” Lee said. “I have to get the other cage.”
“There’s more than one keet?” Danyal asked.
“No, but Jeb made him a big cage to live in. That one is a traveling cage so that, in warmer weather, he can come with me when I’m spending the day at the playground station. That will give him a chance to socialize.” He rolled his eyes—a wasted movement, since he was wearing the dark glasses and no one would see it.
He went back to the island, gathered up his pack and the big cage, and took those into his cottage. Then he returned to the patio. Since Danyal seemed interested in the bird, it was tempting to say the keet had been intended for the Shaman, but he could picture sitting down to dinner at his mother’s and having that little tidbit slip out during a conversation. And now that a stationary bridge linked their school to Aurora, Danyal was a frequent guest at Nadia’s home—and Sebastian’s—so it was bound to come up.
“I have his food, his dishes, his toys, and things for him to chew,” Lee said, knowing he sounded a little more sour than he felt. “And once he settles in to his new home, he’ll be able to play with his favorite toy.”
“What is that?” Danyal asked.
“People.”
Danyal laughed. “What is his name?”
“Haven’t come up with one. My mother doesn’t name the babies that are going to be given away, because she says the names should be chosen by the new families.”
“That makes sense.
So you have no thoughts?”
“One.” Lee leaned close to the cage and said, “Featherhead.”
He regretted it as soon as his eardrums started vibrating. How could something that small be so loud?
When the keet went to the back of the cage and resumed muttering, Danyal said with a straight face, “I don’t think he likes that name.” He gave Lee a puzzled look. “If you didn’t want him, why did you take him?”
“My mother presented me with the cage and the keet and told me it was time for me to have one. My sister, along with Caitlin and Lynnea, agreed.” And a man who had lived with Landscapers his whole life didn’t argue when three of them said it was time. Especially when one of those Landscapers was a Guide of the Heart.
“Perhaps I can help you with the name,” Danyal said. “Maybe something more traditional to this part of the world?”
Lee studied the Shaman, who was also a Guide. “Thanks.”
“I was waiting for you because the Apothecary dropped these off.” Danyal picked up a small case from the woven table beside his chair.
Lee took the case and opened it.
“Try them,” Danyal said.
Slipping the dark glasses into his shirt pocket, he carefully removed the other glasses and put them on. Then he took the book Danyal held out and opened it to a random page.
“They work,” he said after a moment. “I can read again.”
“Good,” Danyal said, smiling.
Over the past few weeks, his eyesight had continued to improve, thanks to the more potent eyedrops the Apothecary had made. His eyes weren’t as good as they used to be, but he could see again. And now, after a visit to the eyeglass maker’s booth at the bazaar to have a special pair of glasses made, he could read again.
He removed the glasses and put them in their case.
“What are you going to do now?”
Lee listened to the muttering in the cage that sounded more unhappy now than bitchy. He sighed—but he also smiled because the keet was a living reminder of home and the people who loved him. “I’m going to figure out the best place for his big cage—and then I’m going to make him some toast.”
Chapter 36
Zhahar sat at the wobbly kitchen table, rolling a glass of firewater between her hands. The cheap, rough-tasting alcohol didn’t appeal to her, but lately Zeela always had a bottle stashed in a bottom cupboard behind the pots and pans that weren’t often used.
The seasons were changing. The autumn days still held some warmth, but the night air had the crisp scent of winter. She had to find warm clothes—mostly garments appropriate for Zeela, but also garments she and Sholeh could wear. And tomorrow she would have to face the market and the increasingly suspicious looks from the vendors and the people in her neighborhood.
=Zhahar?= Zeela sounded groggy.
*You need to rest,* Zhahar said, not wanting to get into an argument and knowing she would if Zeela didn’t sink back into rest.
=We all need to rest. We need to sleep. It’s been too many days since we got real sleep. I missed a couple of easy blocks today and have the bruises to prove it.=
*You missed those blocks because you forgot that Sholeh is taking that medicine to calm her nerves, and it’s strong enough to affect all of us,* Zhahar snapped. *You forgot, so you went out last night and got stinking, fall-down drunk, and I had to clean up the puke after you passed out. You forgot—*
=I haven’t forgotten anything,= Zeela snarled. =And you gulping down a glass of firewater isn’t going to help.=
A brittle silence filled the little kitchen.
*We were sent to the darkest landscape that resonated with the heart of Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar,* Zhahar said wearily. *When you connected with that Knife and got work so fast, I thought it was a sign that this was where we were supposed to be, that Sholeh and I would find something here too. I thought it was a sign that we ended up on a shadow street that had been touched by the wizards, that our presence might do some good. But after you started reporting for training every day and Sholeh and I could come into view only in our room or when one of us went out to the market, I began to realize what it had been like for you and Sholeh when I worked as a Handler, how limited your lives were. How limited our lives would be from now on, no matter which one of us is supporting us.*
=We were all able to have a bit of a life when you worked at the Asylum, at least for a while.=
Zhahar hesitated, but this wasn’t something she had a right to hide from the warrior aspect of their Tryad. *The last couple of times I went to the market, there was talk—people commenting about how they never see us together, and isn’t it strange that we’re doing washing and such late at night when two of us are home during the day and could be putting that time to use.*
=Busybodies,= Zeela grumbled. =All they do is talk.=
But Zhahar heard the uneasiness under the grumble, so she said the rest. *A story has started going around about a kind of demon the wizards brought with them to act as their servants and spies—a demon that can wear more than one face but has only one body.*
Now Zeela swore. =We need to go. Sholeh needs to get off that medicine so her head is clear and she can help us. Then we need to pack up and go.=
*Not yet. Not yet,* she repeated when Zeela started to protest. *If you can finish your training with the Knife Guild, you’ll have a better chance of finding work in another part of Vision. I’ll push Sholeh to remember what she learned about other parts of the city, parts that weren’t directly touched by the wizards. We can hold on long enough for you to get your journeyman’s badge.”
=How many other Tryad held out too long?= Zeela asked grimly.
Because she knew the answer, Zhahar said nothing. She waited until Zeela drifted back down to rest. Then she reached into her pocket and took out the little bag that held the one-shot bridge Sebastian had given them. She stared at it while she sipped the firewater, hoping the alcohol would pull her into sleep.
They could use that one-shot bridge to leave Vision, and she would insist that Zeela use it if they were in life-threatening danger. But every time she looked at the bag, she knew with a certainty she couldn’t explain that if they used it, if they tried to slip around this part of the journey that Heart’s Justice demanded of them, they would get a glimpse of what they needed at the moment it disappeared from their lives.
Tucking the bag back into her pocket, she got up, rinsed out the glass, and went into the bedroom to try to give them all the sleep they needed.
Chapter 37
Answering the summons, Zeela stepped into the doorway of the guild-house room that served as Primo’s office. A swarthy man with a long scar on his left cheek, he was First Knife, the leader of the Knife Guild in the northwestern part of Vision. When she had been brought before him, he had been sufficiently impressed with her fighting skills to make her a guild apprentice, and she had worked hard every day since then to earn a guild badge. Judging by the look on his face, whatever he had to tell her wasn’t something she wanted to hear.
“Come in, Zeela,” Primo said. “Have a seat.”
She sat because he was First Knife and he had earned that title.
He settled on the corner of the old desk. Funny to think of him doing accounts and paying bills, but the guild was a business like any other. They were just selling a different kind of skill.
“You need to find another place, Zeela,” Primo said kindly. “The shadow streets around here turned dark and mean while those pus-filled wizards fouled our city, and even with the Shamans assigned to the northwest, it will take some time to turn it back to what it was.”
“I can help you,” she said quickly. “I know I was late and didn’t go out with the rest of the team this morning, but—”
“Your sister was crying again,” Primo said. “The youngest one. Sholeh. I see it in your face.” He leaned toward her. “If it was just you, I’d let you stay. You’ve got skill, girl, and you would have made a good Knife one day. But it’s not just
you, is it? And this part of Vision is no place for your sisters. Especially young Sholeh. And even Zhahar was roughed up when she went to the market, and could have gotten more than a black eye if you hadn’t shown up to help her carry the bags home. Yes, I heard about that.”
Zeela looked at the floor. Ever since Zhahar was assaulted, they were barely able to convince Sholeh to come into view, even in their room. And the Sholeh they knew was fading away a little more every day, hardly interested in existing, let alone living.
But Zhahar still believed they could hold out a little longer, needed to hold out a little longer, even if she couldn’t explain why.
Primo leaned back and studied Zeela in a way that made her want to fidget.
“There are rumors spreading in the streets around here about a three-faced demon who slipped into the city with the wizards. You’ve heard these rumors?”
Not with the wizards, she thought as her heart pounded. But that won’t make any difference. Not now. “I’ve heard them.”
“I contacted brethren in other parts of Vision, asking if they had heard these rumors. Most had heard nothing, but one had met a trio of sisters he called a three-sided heart and spoke well of them.” Primo looked pointedly at Zeela’s left bicep. The tattoo was covered now, but all the Knives had seen it during the training sessions. “His words carry enough weight with me that I would have let you stay, and will still tell the rest of the brethren what he told me so that they will know the rumors are false. But that won’t help your sisters. That won’t keep them safe in the market.”
No, the guild believing she wasn’t a demon wouldn’t keep Zhahar and Sholeh safe. By the triple stars, they had tried to hold on long enough build a life here. Hadn’t they tried?
“Got you a ticket on a passenger coach,” Primo said. “It leaves in the morning.”
“Going where?” Zeela asked, feeling weighed down by emotions.