Cold Steel (Spiritwalker 3)

As the great general Hannibal Barca had famously said just before he and his queen, the Dido of Qart Hadast, defeated the Romans at Zama, Either find a way, or make one.

“I have a few questions about contracts I would like to ask you, Chartji. Is now a good time?”

On our walk home Bee could not contain herself. With the letter clutched in her hand, she stumbled frequently on the cobblestones as she read bits aloud to me. “ ‘In the lore of my people, it is told that the women who walk the dreams of dragons may find among dragon-kind one mate to match them.’ Isn’t that romantical, Cat? He goes on. ‘The obligations placed on me by my position as headmaster…’ That’s why he cannot leave yet. The hatchlings are still too young. They look like youths in size but they need constant care before they are ready to be left on their own. I wonder how many hatchlings the headmaster raised among people at the academy all those years without anyone being the wiser! Kemal begs me to never reveal their secret. He says that the lore of the dragons speaks of dark cruel times when the dragon-born were hunted and killed!”

“It seems to me, Bee, that you could go to Noviomagus for a month’s visit. Then you might discover whether he is the, ah, mate to match you, which I rather doubt since you seem to still have feelings for Caonabo.”

o;Trolls are excellent lawyers because they can pick through the fine points of the law. And they are clever scientists because the world fascinates them, and they’re not really scared of anything except dragons. Also, they share everything within the clutch. The food on my plate is the food on your plate. That’s why they have become such keen printers, spreading knowledge like seeds. But one thing troll printers and lawyers can’t do is go places where they would be conspicuous for being trolls. Therefore, you and I—and Rory if he wants to—will act as their human agents. We will investigate things for them that they otherwise would have trouble knowing.”

“We’ll be spies,” I said delightedly.

“If you must use that word, then I am content with it. Andevai says this is exactly the sort of scheme that will please you, Cat. Obviously it pleases me. I can scarcely wait to begin sneaking about and poking my nose into other people’s business, just as we used to in the old days! I mean, when I am not making speeches in the Assembly. But he has been worried about you. He has stewards to take care of the day-to-day running of such a large household, for it is truly an unwieldy task best left to people trained from an early age to manage its complexities. He knows you don’t belong in the mage House, nor does he expect you to serve it. He says you told him once that you wouldn’t have minded being a warden in Expedition, and I can see how that would suit you. This is something like that, don’t you think? You like our plan, don’t you?”

I took her hand in mine. “Of course I do. It’s a marvelous scheme. It’s all splendid, what Andevai is doing, this new endeavor, everything!”

She pulled me to a stop under the feathery brown sign with orange letters that marked the door of the law offices of Godwik and Clutch. “Are you well, dearest?”

I clasped her hands tightly. “I’m at peace, Bee, except for one thing. You know I told you how I met your parents when I was with Camjiata.”

The storm clouds could not have moved in more swiftly, from clear sky to threatening rain. Her voice trembled. “I should have been there with you, Cat! You should not have to face all these terrible things alone!”

I had to look away from her then. My worn but thoroughly polished boots made a good alternative to her probing gaze. Vai did not like the way I polished my boots, so he had taken to doing it for me. “I just think that after all it would have been better if I had found it in my heart to forgive them. I felt so betrayed only because I loved them so much.”

“They shouldn’t have done it!”

“I know, but… it must have hurt them, too.”

She heaved a dramatic sigh and was about to scold me when the door opened and Chartji poked her muzzle out. Her crest was flared in an odd pattern, some feathers flattened and some upright. She whistled a curt greeting, a bit off-key.

“Bee, a letter arrived for you this morning. Of course I did not open it, but it stinks of dragon and I would be grateful if you would remove it from the premises as quickly as possible.”

With a shriek Bee released my hands and dashed inside.

Chartji bared her teeth at me. “Cousin, there is something about you that puzzles me. You rats are funny creatures, hard to understand, but I sense a shadow beneath your smile.”

As the great general Hannibal Barca had famously said just before he and his queen, the Dido of Qart Hadast, defeated the Romans at Zama, Either find a way, or make one.

“I have a few questions about contracts I would like to ask you, Chartji. Is now a good time?”

On our walk home Bee could not contain herself. With the letter clutched in her hand, she stumbled frequently on the cobblestones as she read bits aloud to me. “ ‘In the lore of my people, it is told that the women who walk the dreams of dragons may find among dragon-kind one mate to match them.’ Isn’t that romantical, Cat? He goes on. ‘The obligations placed on me by my position as headmaster…’ That’s why he cannot leave yet. The hatchlings are still too young. They look like youths in size but they need constant care before they are ready to be left on their own. I wonder how many hatchlings the headmaster raised among people at the academy all those years without anyone being the wiser! Kemal begs me to never reveal their secret. He says that the lore of the dragons speaks of dark cruel times when the dragon-born were hunted and killed!”

“It seems to me, Bee, that you could go to Noviomagus for a month’s visit. Then you might discover whether he is the, ah, mate to match you, which I rather doubt since you seem to still have feelings for Caonabo.”

She sniffed imperiously. “According to tradition, Kena’ani women can take two husbands if it serves the clan: one husband from within the clan and one trade husband, an outsider, to seal an alliance.”

“I can’t figure which one you would call the trade husband and which one within the clan.”

She ignored this perfectly legitimate question with an airy wave of her hand. “Anyway, when will I ever see Caonabo again? How can I ever afford even to go to Noviomagus? We can barely afford to feed everyone. The only reason we have managed all the renovation and repairs is that the household is doing all the work.”

I swung her hand in mine. “That’s true. But after Hallows’ Night you must promise me you’ll find a way to go. Just to see what happens. Do you promise me, Bee? Do you?”

“Gracious Melqart, Cat! If I protest that I do not want to, you’ll know I am lying. And if I say yes, love will carry me across the distance like wings, I’ll appear as giddy in love as you! Maybe after things are more sorted out here and the household is better established and everyone has a decent cot to sleep on… Prim Astarte! What I wouldn’t give for decent plumbing!”

We discussed such mundane matters all the way home, and I cherished every word of it.

So it was that at midday on the last day of October, I finished darning a worn elbow on the last of Vai’s dash jackets that needed repair, the much-abused but lovingly tended gold-and-red chained pattern he had worn the night of the areito and Hallows’ Night and thus into the spirit world. As a fine elegant dash jacket suitable for court, it was utterly ruined, but I could read the course of our love across its mended injuries and still-shining threads and know it for the glorious garment it was.

He had selected the sturdiest of his jackets to labor in, and they did get worn. I had worked hard to get all the mending done to my liking, sitting at an old secondhand table at the window in the corner room Vai had picked out for the mansa’s study. At this table in the evenings, while I sewed and Bee drew or practiced declaiming and while visitors came and went, he wrote letters, planned lessons, practiced illusions, and had me read out loud to us from a recently published monograph by Professora Alhamrai regarding accounts of how shrinkage in the ice sheets correlated with the creep of hardy trees into the Barrens.