Maker of Fire

(continued from installment 3.55)

Emily, Black Falls, Cold Season, 1st rot., 2nd day

I had my feet back in Foskos for less than half a day, and the Keep the Coyn Captive Club was already back to its old tricks. Aylem, Moo, and Lisaykos got into a taffy-pull over who would be the one to carry me into the hall. Yes, I was disgusted with all three of them. While they were distracted, I used the foot latch to escape. I ran and got to the manse's reception hall before they caught up. I dodged boots, knees, and skirts on my way to where I spotted Senlyosart sitting and chatting with Foyuna, Satsusum, and Ashansalt.

"Welladay, Holy Ones. Can one of you give me a hand up, please? I have something for Senlyosart."

"I've got this." Foyuna made room between her and Satsusum and lifted me up to the couch.

"You just got here, and you have something for me?" Senlyosart said, leaning forward in her armchair. Her leg was on a hassock. Poor lady, were her war injuries still not healed?

I held out the blue slate to her. "Sassoo wanted me to give this to you."

With a look of surprise, she took the edge of the rock between her thumb and forefinger. A clear, high-pitched bell-like tone sounded, stopping conversations around us.

"Here, hold this again," Senlyosart gave it back to me. While I held it, she lightly tapped it, and the bell-like tone chimed a second time. The silence around us grew.

"Great One," Senlyosart said in an awed voice, "is there more of that rock? Where is it from? If there is enough of it, I could make another lithophone. When did Sassoo show this to you?"

"The rock is from a harbor hidden in the Cliffs of Gong," Moo said from behind me. "It is all over the hillside in back of the harbor. We destroyed a pirate port there two rotations ago. The harbor ices in during Cold Season and early Planting Season, so I fear you cannot fetch any before next year. When I return to my home, I can send a crew to gather some. Perhaps some of your people who are in Mattamukmuk can come along, though I confess, I would not object to collecting enough to build a lithophone in my own realm."

Senlyosart was gaping up at Moo, who was standing with Aylem behind the couch. "Please pardon my bad manners. Let me introduce myself." Moo made the Mattamesscontan greeting gesture. "I, Moo'upegan nu Mattakwonk, greet the holy ones of Foskos."

The three high priestesses introduced themselves and invited Aylem and Moo to join them. Moo was just settling into an armchair when Kamagishi came hurrying across the room to join us. In the confusion, I slipped off the couch and escaped, though not without getting a look of reproach from Aylem and an expression of disappointment from Foyuna. I felt a little guilty, but not enough to keep me there. I was uncomfortable around all those oversized silverhairs, especially since I didn't know Ashansalt or Sutsusum well. I didn't like feeling small and powerless over my own coming and going.

I wound my way through the socializing Cosm, looking for Tom. I finally spotted him sitting with Twee, Lord Skalta, the Holy Irralray, and Prince Listayodas. I got close enough to overhear them talking about army tactics. Having found Tom, I decided I didn't want to join that conversation. I was fed up with war. I turned and headed to where I saw the gang of three and Lisaykos, tucked into a circle of armchairs in the corner of the room.

Kaysea spotted me first. I found myself suddenly floating. Kayseo crooked a finger, and I landed in her embrace.

"I missed you, Em."

"Me too, but seriously, folks, if I endure any more of these Cosm-sized hugs, I will need to spend time at the Healing Shrine to recover from bruised ribs."

"Oh no. I'm sorry, Em. Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, not that. I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed right now. You startled me. I think I would have preferred to walk over. It's not easy to return to how everyone treats me like I will break. My patience is feeling thin after the last several days. I know you mean well, but I hate feeling like I never have any control over being hugged, picked up, or carried somewhere because someone is worried I'll get stepped on. It's just . . . just . . ." And at that point, I lost it and ended up crying into Kayseo's shoulder for a while.

"Better, Em?" Kayseo leaned her big head against mine. Thuorfosi leaned over and rubbed my back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, Kayseo," I sniffled.

"We're so happy to see you," Twessera said, "and you showed up on such a festive day, bringing a revelation and a rescued prince and visiting royalty. It's disconcerting that you aren't looking happy, too, dear heart."

"I'm a bit worn out, Twess. I'd be happy to skip all the partying. As much as I have missed you, I want to crawl into my bed and stay there for a while. Three days ago, Moo and I were in a battle. If Mugash hadn't intervened, Moo would have died. Two days ago, I negotiated a settlement with all the gods. Yesterday, Moo and I smashed the gates of a Tirmarran city, faced down Tirmarran warriors, and rescued Prince Listayodas from a prison surrounded by compulsion crystals. This morning, Galt, in his aspect of wrath, destroyed the chief of the eagle tribe at my instigation. At least ten people died because I was there. That's not something I can be happy about. Going from war to wedding is hard."

"Emily, dear," Lisaykos said, "the battle with the pirates at the Cliffs of Gong was over two rotations ago."

I turned and slid to sit on Kayseo's lap, blotting my face on my sleeve. "We traveled with Landa from Gong to Tirmarra, and then from Tirmarra to here. I have observed that time is lost when traveling with a god. If you remember, it happened last year, too, when Vassu, Erhonsay, and Galt took me to Mattamukmuk and back. So the battle may have been two rotations ago, but for me and Moo, it was three days ago."

"Em," Thuorfosi asked, "who's Moo? Is that the tall lady you came with?"

"That's right. She's the gal in white with the diadem talking with that knot of high priestesses. She's the Infanta Moo'upegan nu Mattakwonk, the Empress Presumptive of Mattamesscontess. We were shipwrecked on the same boat and have been traveling together ever since. She's fun and just as bad as the three of you at harassing me. I don't think I should introduce you. I might not survive."

The gang of three chuckled on cue.

A wave of fatigue hit me. I closed my eyes and leaned back against Kayseo. I noticed there was more of her than there used to be. "Kayseo, are you getting enough exercise now that you're missing your feet?"

"I'm sure I am. Why do you ask?"

"I think you've put on weight."

The gang of three and Lisaykos looked at each other and started laughing.

"What? What did I say? What's so funny?"

"Emily, dearest," Lisaykos replied, with a smile worthy of a manic mass murderer, "Kayseo is two seasons pregnant."

"What!?"

Lisaykos, Black Falls, Cold Season, 1st rot., 2nd day

Tom looked like a miniature Galt in his aspect of wrath, his brows creased, and his aura bright orange with combative aggression. I was impressed. Most Coyn never achieve this level of bravery when talking to someone like me.

"Great One, the King told me that you took Emily to rest somewhere. Might I please recover my wife?"

"Certainly, Revered One. I put her in my bed for now with a charm of deep sleep. The stress of the last few days was showing, so I helped her escape. I was waiting for you to show up so you could spend the night with her, if you wanted, after I move her to her own quarters."

"Own quarters?"

"No one was prepared for extra guests. The Holy Senlyosart is opening the guest quarters at the shrine for the Prophet, the Empress Presumptive, my brother, and the Tirmarran. We assumed you would want to join her at the shrine."

"Why the shrine? Why not in my room here?"

"So Emily can have some privacy before the twenty-three rulers of Foskos descend on the poor girl. The Holy Senlyosart has restricted access to the guest quarters in the shrine because of the latest revered one, who is a shy eleven-year-old boy. Knowing this, I asked Senlyosart if she would house Emily and her party. The members of the Convocation will not be able to descend on the Prophet while she's in a guestroom at the shrine. Staying at the Singing Shrine has the additional benefit that Emily already knows many of the shrine's Coyn, so she can socialize if she wants, with folks on a less intimidating scale than all the silverhairs who want to control her daily living situation.

"I brought a bag with some of Emily's clothes from the Healing Shrine. If you would carry it, I can carry the sleeping Emily, and we can walk over to the Singing Shrine together. If you want to socialize further this evening, I would ask that you not stay up too late because I'm already past the time when I like to retire."

"Let me pack my things, and I can meet you at your room. Where is it?"

"I'm upstairs. It will be easier for me to meet you at your room. Lord Skalta put you and my son's party on the ground floor so you could avoid the stairs. And my son has already packed your bag for you."

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"Shouldn't I be carrying my girl, not you?"

"That's a silly question. Why shouldn't I carry both of you?" I made sure to smile at him. "Then I wouldn't need to walk slower to match your pace. Good fish face, Tom."

Tom worked hard to disguise his annoyance. He didn't know my empathy was feeling his internal war between his ire and his fear-driven need to speak politely to a Cosm who could squash him with a thought.

"My apologies, Revered One. I confess that I was needling you. It's a bad habit of mine. If you really want to carry Emily, I will meet you at your guestroom so you don't need to carry her down the stairs."

"No, I can meet you at your room. I can take the Coyn stairs in the back of the manse. That's quite a face, Great One. Let me guess what you're thinking. You find it unbearable that Emily might touch anything associated with the Coyn servants, not because they are Coyn but because they are menials, while Emily is the Prophet who even the High Priestesses bow to. It's a class thing. So, of course, you and Emily live on the top floor of a famous Shrine, while the spoot slaves live in bunkhouses on the flats. So, of course, the Prophet takes the front stairs while the cleaning staff takes the back stairs.

"I know you're one of the least racist Cosm I've met, but I also understand you don't want to see the Prophet mingling with lowly spoot slaves on the back stairs. But isolating Emily isn't a good thing. Many Coyn think the shrines were keeping Emily prisoner. Yes, I know she was a patient for almost a year, and yes, I know you're an aristocrat from head to heel, so you want to protect Emily from tow barge trash. But Great One, every Coyn in this place is tow barge trash compared to the divine high holy Prophet. You're overlooking that she belongs to them more than she belongs to the Cosm."

At the end of that blunt analysis, I was at a loss for words. I can't say I liked his continued aggressive posture, but I recognized he had a need to shield his partner from the well-meaning Cosm in her life. I found his overprotectiveness both amusing and ironic, given his lack of size and magic.

"I will fetch my bag and meet you at your room, Great One. After I've gotten downstairs, do you want to meet me by the back door for Coyn or before the front steps?" Both routes started at the base of the Coyn stairs. His passive-aggressive choices displeased me.

"Tom, I am not your enemy. Take the route you know Emily would take."

"From the pantry to the front door, Great One. But why do you believe this would be Emily's route?"

I swallowed my laugh. He underestimated me. "Because it's the shortest route with all-Coyn steps. Emily will always place practicality before precedence. To her, the kitchen and banquet hall are just rooms to cross despite the noble-attendant divide in the middle of the route. I will meet you at the front door, Tom."

I had to wonder if Tom's overprotectiveness was a veneer hiding jealousy toward Emily's Cosm friends, or if it masked a need for control in a world where he was powerless. Whatever the reason, I hoped he would progress through it. Maybe he needed a visit with Lyappis.

I also hoped Tom would understand the underlying subtext of my route advice: that I was not the snob he thought I was. Like Emily, I, too, favored practicality over precedence. My shrine and chapels would not function otherwise.

Emily, Black Falls, Cold Season, 1st rot., 3rd day

"Good morning, little bed bear," Tom said in an energetic voice. Even in my half-asleep state, I knew that tone of voice was trouble. Tom's morning person routine started with insufferable cheerfulness as, one by one, my blankets and pillows would be stripped away. Then, my legs would be tackled and the bottoms of my feet tortured, followed by the oral eulogy for my toes, which would be tickled concurrently.

I gathered all covers, tucking all the loose ends under me, doing my best imitation of a pill bug. Then, I encountered my demise. It was that smell, the salty, savory aroma of cooked bacon. I heard the crunch of teeth chewing through the delicious crispy bits of meat and fat.

"Ah, dthats so gfooff," a masticating Tom enthused as I tried to maintain my pill bug defense. "Em, you gotta try some of this bacon. The Holy One had a platter delivered. There are some pastries too. One's called a morning bun. It's a local specialty, with bog berries and clotted cream on the inside. Umff, so ymmfy."

"Go 'way. 'M sleeping in." I protested.

"I'll eat everything if you don't get up."

"I'll survive."

"The Holy Kamagishi left off a package of liver pate, and–"

"Where?" Before I could stop my reflex reaction, I popped my head out, alert for liver pate, especially if it was from the little shop in Is'syal.

Foolish me. I lost the war even before the battle began. My poor feet. My poor little tootsies. I needed to do something to defend myself better now that I was smaller and he was bigger than he had been in our previous life, or I would be losing to Tom every morning. A lifetime of having my ticklish feet attacked was not in my plans.

And just like Thuorfosi, he ate all the bacon too!

I might consider divorce, except I wasn't sure we were legally married according to Foskan law. Regardless, it was not too late to insist on separate bedrooms.

I sent Tom off to find more morning buns. It was a cruel deception. I intended to sneak out without anyone following me. What I wanted was some time to myself, and I wouldn't get any if I sat in bed and let the world of Foskos take my life over again. No, this time around, I meant to carve out my own space and my own life.

As soon as the door shut on Tom, I was into the flying clothes and the new Healing Shrine mantle Lisaykos brought me. I also swiped all the bronze coins out of Tom's pouch, just in case I wanted to buy a skewer or nip. Given that he ate all the bacon, I didn't feel guilty at all. Then, I jumped on the foot latch and was out into the hallway. I sprinted for the dome chamber, thinking it would be a good place to get lost. I was right about that. I exited the dome into a large lobby space and then out the doors to the outside.

Feeling pleased with how my escape was progressing, I strolled out of the gates of the shrine grounds. I swung down toward the river, thinking that I needed room between me, the shrine, and the manse.

Ud laid out the new Black Fall around three hills. The west hill was home to the Singing Shrine. The center hill was occupied by the manse. The garrison complex covered the east hill. The three hills had two circles of ring roads around them. The rest of the streets were a rectangular grid, with the long blocks oriented east-west. The commercial districts were between the hills and the river. The residential neighborhoods were on the opposite side of the hills from the river, on higher ground. All the roads and building foundations were made out of Ud's solidified white spider silk. The shrine, garrison, and manse were white from the ground to the roofs. The overall look of the city was stunning.

I walked onto the bridge over the river and climbed up the decorative railing wall to watch the river traffic. The view included the loading docks on the riverbank, godowns, and warehouses. On the north side of the river were the ruins of the old city, the tent city, and the parting grounds.

I was surprised to see the tent city, which I thought had been dismantled last year. It was much smaller than I remembered. Then, I saw a wagon emerge from it and travel toward the city's parting grounds. Four priestesses in the blue and white of Gertzpul escorted it. That was when I realized the wagon had victims from the epidemic, which I had just learned about last night, and that the tents were for the unfortunate who contracted the disease. Without thinking, I fingered the charm gem on the chain around my neck.

"Er . . . excuse me." A man's tenor broke through my thoughts. I looked and saw Yoyos, an older Coyn from the Singing Shrine, looking up at me from the bridge's walkway. He was a prell and divine player from the shrine's corps of musicians.

"It is you," he said. "I had heard you arrived yesterday on a white eagle with the missing prince. I certainly did not expect to see you here. We are singing at the bidding farewell ceremony for the most recent fever victims. Is that why you are here? Were you planning on attending?"

I noted around twenty other Coyn stopping and now listening to Yoyos.

"To be truthful, Yoyos, I was out for a walk. I did not realize there was a bidding farewell ceremony this morning. My meeting you here was just a coincidence."

"There are no coincidences, according to the scripture of Surd," said Beno, another of the shrine's Coyn, famous for his singing voice. "A coincidence is simply an occasion where we fail to comprehend all the actions of the gods. Come with us. We are no longer forbidden to gather, and the number of the dead has fallen to less than a wagon load. We will be singing your prayer of consolation. You should come."

So I went, first climbing down and then walking with the singers to the parting grounds. I took a seat halfway up the solidified spider silk tiers of the amphitheater and kept my hood up. About forty other Coyn were scattered around the tiers. Lord Black, Heir Sertfos haup Black, and Kattessat haup Gunndit stood in the back in mourning blue. That impressed me because Sertfos and Kattessat had been handfasted less than a day.

The ceremony was brief but powerful. The musical version of the so-called Consolation of the Prophet, sung a cappella by the Coyn choir, was moving. I was still flabbergasted that the words I told Thourfosi the day after Wolkayrs died had become part of the funeral rites.

Fifteen bodies were committed to the flames as I watched. The Coyn standing around me wept quietly. Their pain left me crying myself.

I had no idea of how many had died over the course of the epidemic. I guessed the victims numbered in the thousands. It was some consolation knowing that the dead really did go to a better place, but that couldn't erase the loss to those left behind.

How many had died in the handful of rotations since the Black Falls Fever started, I wondered, looking at the size of the freshly-constructed burning pits.

*Twenty-seven thousand five hundred and thirty-six,* a voice inside my head answered.

Is it over? I asked in a thought.

*Do you want it to be?*

Yes.

*Then, it is over,* said a voice I recognized as Mugash. *No more Coyn will die of this fever.*

I could tell from the reactions of the Holy Sutsusum and the priestesses attending her that they had heard at least part of that exchange.

The Ringed Staff of Gertzpul rose out of Sutsusum's hands, and the carved fire opal that capped it suddenly blazed so bright that it was painful to look at. The light coalesced into a beam that swung and shone on the spot in front of me. A Coyn-sized Gertzpul in a white robe stepped out of it, smiling at me.

"If you follow the strike of your pegmatite vein on Tourmalene Mountain, you will find a doubly-terminated rose quartz crystal. Give it to my dear Sutsusum, who will use it for the memorial for the fever victims."

Then, the god of journeys vanished, and the light from the staff went out. For dramatic effect, because the gods of Erdos love their dramatic effects, the great bell at the top of the dome of the Singing Shrine tolled once.

Oh well, so much for wandering around Black Falls incognito, I thought. A god just blew my cover.

*Oops. Sorry, Emily,* Gertzpul said. Well, at least he apologized. But now, everyone was looking at me.

"Who are you?" asked a Coyn man behind me.

"Someone with their hood up," I replied in a voice that I hoped was kind. Then I made my way to the nearest exit from the parting grounds, wanting to disappear.

I found Sutsusum and the floating ringed staff blocking my way at the gate to the street.

"Please, Holy One, let me go," I pleaded. I wanted to find a large hole or a crowd to hide in. I wanted to be anyone but me. I wanted to be anywhere but here.

"I see you are even more surprised than I am, Great One. But why the panic? I would think the end of the fever and the gift of a crystal would be joyful news."

"It's . . . I . . . just wanted some time to myself." I felt like crying in frustration. "I didn't know this would happen. Please."

Sutsusum knelt and studied me with a profound frown for a long moment. "I will come and speak with you later." She put her hand on my shoulder, and I felt the warmth of a charm pass through me. "This is a charm of misdirection. It will last about half a bell. I will tidy up here. There's an excellent skewer stall in the spice market that will serve Coyn." Then she got up and strode back into the parting grounds, blocking people from following me.