Justice swallowed heavily. "It's Sunny, ma'am. Krishna stole him and sold him on White."
For a long moment Hilda was silent, then the ghost of a smile touched her mouth. "This afternoon? I'd wondered where Sunny'd got to."
Justice stared. Of all the reactions Hilda could have evidenced, this was the last one he expected. Hilda, to put things mildly, was short of temper, and her rages were notorious. Now, faced with the theft and sale of her cat, she accepted the fact with little more than a shrug.
"But, ma'am ... Sunny's been sold! We may never get him back!"
Hilda's smile was genuine this time, a smile that softened the harsh lines of her face. "Krishna"U end up paying for this 'un in the long run, Justus. Dishonesty like that carries a lot of karma. Don't worry. Everything'll work out all right." She straightened in her chair and stood. "Well, time's flying. I got to get back to work. And the two of ye got yer dinners coming."
Hilda was right, for Jason came across the room, two plates and two mugs on a tray he balanced with ease above his head. As Hilda set off back toward the bar, Jason laid out the meal, set the mugs alongside the plates, and returned to his station by the kitchen door.
"Eat up, son," Rhajmurti said, lifting his fork and cutting off several large bites of the excellently prepared razorfin. "You're thin enough as it is."
Justice looked back to his plate from staring after Hilda's retreating figure. Revenantists! He would much rather help karma along in Krishna's case. He shrugged, and started his dinner.
Rhajmurti seemed to want silence as he ate, so Justice obliged, washing down the bites of fish with what proved to be some of Hilda's best beer. Thank the Lord Rhajmurti was picking up the tab; this was one meal he would have thought more than twice about buying.
Justice was nearly Finished when a familiar voice drifted over the conversations around him. He stiffened in his chair and looked off across the room.
Krishna!
Back from selling Sunny, seeming unaware what he had done had been witnessed, Krishna was in high good humor. He and Pavel had taken a table close to the bar and Krishna was busy telling his friend what the two of them could do for entertainment. He had bought himself and Pavel the best wine in the house and was loudly ordering one of the most expensive dinners Hilda served. Justice's jaw clenched and he looked down at his plate, trying to curb his anger.
It was no use. The more he thought about what Krishna had done, the angrier he got, and he could stand it no longer. Slamming his fork down beside his plate, he shoved his chair back and stood.
"Justice," Rhajmurti said quietly, catching at his sleeve. "Don't do anything you'll regret later."
Both Krishna and Pavel had taken off their swords to eat dinner. Justice glanced down at Rhajmurti. "Stay out of this, please, Father. This is between Krishna and me!"
Justice left the table, threaded his way between the two other drinkers and diners, and came up at Krishna's side.
"Well, Justus," Krishna said, looking up from his drink. "I didn't see you over there. Will you join us?"
"Later, perhaps. Will you do me a favor?"
"What?"
"Come out front and I'll tell you."
"Oh. All right." Krishna turned to Pavel and waved at the table. "Hold things down for me here, will you? I'll be right back."
Justice turned away and walked across the room and out the front door, hearing Krishna come along behind. Once outdoors:
"What can I do for you, Justus?" Krishna asked, still in good humor. "Do you need a loan?"
"Where did you come up with the cash?"
"Oh—" Krishna's gaze wandered "—I have ways."
"I'll bet you have Tots of them," Justice said. "But in this case, I think your benefactor was a cat."
Krishna stared, his face going a bit pale in the lamplight. "Whatever are you talking about?"
"Sunny. And you damned well know what I'm ,. talking about, you lying sneak! How the hell could you sell Sunny like that? You're no better than the scum down at Megary!"
"Now you just wait a moment," Krishna said, drawing himself up to his full height. It did him no good, for Justice overtopped him by at least a hand. "Who do you think you're talking to? Nobody calls a Malenkov a lying sneak!"
"All right," Justice said equably. "You're a lying thief!"
Krishna's right hook came so suddenly that Justice barely had time to dodge. O Lord and my Ancestors! Not a fight! That's the last thing I need! He struck back, catching the younger man square on the chin, feeling the force of his blow all the way up to his shoulder.
Krishna staggered back and grabbed for his sword, but he had left it inside at the table. He snarled something best unheard, leapt at Justice, shoved him off his feet and landed right on top of him. The wind knocked out of him, Justice struggled against Krishna's surprising strength, trying to get some kind of hold on his opponent.
"Fight! Fight! Hilda! You got a fight on your hands!"
Justice thought he recognized the voice but was too busy warding off Krishna's wild punches and connecting with his own to bother guessing who it was.
"A silverbit on the tall 'un!" someone called out.
"Done! And I'll raise ye a half!"
Damned fools! Justice narrowly avoided a knee to his groin, finally got one leg hooked between Krishna's and slowly began turning him over onto his back.
To see in front of him, not more than three steps away, the black-stockinged legs of the law.
Justice stood somewhat unsteadily on his feet and wiped at the blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. Krishna was in worse shape, his jaw swollen and a black eye beginning to form. But it was small comfort to have beaten Krishna, for now they both stood backed up against the wall outside Hilda's Tavern, five blacklegs facing them, riot sticks in their hands.
"Ma'am?"
The voice came from Justice's right. He risked a sidelong look: Father Rhajmurti had pushed his way forward through the gathered crowd and stood facing the sergeant, a tail, dark woman who looked set on no further foolishness from anyone. Motioning for her men to keep Justice and Krishna in line, she turned toward the priest, nodding in respect. "Yes, ser?"
"I'll speak for both lads. They're students of mine. If you'll recognize the authority of the College, I'll take them into my custody."
Justice's heart leapt. He glanced at Rhajmurti, then back at the sergeant.
She considered the priest's offer for a moment. "Yer name, Father, so I c'n list it on my report?"
"Rhajmurti, Alfonso Rhajmurti. Initiated at Third Level; instructor of fine arts."
"Huhn." The hint of a smile tugged at her mouth. "More likely instructor in martial arts t'judge by these two." She took a small notebook and pencil from her pocket, and wrote down Rhajmurti's name. "All right, Father. I'll release them to yer custody. But I got to take their names."
"Justice Lee and Krishna Malenkov. J-U-S-T-U-S."
The sergeant's right eyebrow rose slightly as she jotted down the names, but she refrained from any comment. Flipping the notebook closed, she turned to Justice and Krishna. "Ye heard the man, gentlemen. Ye're damned lucky he came along, or it would've been a trip to the Signeury for both of ye. Ye're free now, in his custody. And I don't want to see neither of ye in trouble again this Festival, or even the father here won't keep ye out of the Signeury. Hear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Justice mumbled, wiping at his mouth again. He glanced sidelong at Krishna and elbowed him.
"I hear you, ma'am," Krishna said.
"Good. Don't forget it." She shoved the notebook in her pocket, motioned for her men to follow her, and started off down the walkway toward Borg.
Now the interested crowd began to disperse, those who had been passing by headed off about their business, and Hilda's customers headed back inside to theirs. Justice kept his eyes on his feet, not willing to look Rhajmurti in the face.
"All right," Rhajmurti said quietly. "We have a problem here and that problem's a missing cat."
Kr
ishna glared. "Damn you, Justus!"
"I didn't tell your father, did I?"
"Quiet!" Rhajmurti snapped. "We'll never get this solved if the two of you start fighting again. Krishna, do you think you can buy Sunny back?"
Krishna swallowed heavily. "I don't know," he mumbled.
"You'd best hope you can,'" Rhajmurti said. "You've already collected quite a bit of karma today, young man, and will likely collect more in school after the holidays. You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"
"Oh, yes. Quite."
"How much did you sell Sunny for?" "A demi, sir."
Justice groaned inwardly. A demi was a lot of money; to Krishna, it was the price of an evening of high entertainment. But Sunny was worth far more and, had Krishna appeared in all ways to be the cat's legitimate owner, he could have probably gotten a sol out of the deal.
"I see. Well, let's get going. I want us back here before nightfall."
"Where?" Krishna asked.
Rhajmurti looked him in the face. Krishna ducked his head, and led the way down toward Borg Bridge.
Justice followed after, rubbing his knuckles, still itching to pitch Kirshna into the canal. "If they won't sell Sunny back—"
"Things could get messy everywhere," Rhajmurti said, "very messy indeed."
"Buy the cat back?" The doorman at the hightown house on White appeared quite surprised to be facing two students, one of whom he had met earlier in the afternoon, along with a priest of the College. "Why, m'ser, I don't think that's possible."
Krishna looked stricken and glanced at Rhajmurti.
"But it was a mistake," he said to the doorman, spreading his hands in appeal. "I've got to right it."
"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to right it somewhere else. The Mistress is very happy with the cat."
"But if I can't buy the cat back, I'll—"
"I said," the doorman glowered, "the Mistress is very happy with the cat. Now, if you'll be good enough to leave, I—"
"Precious!" a woman shrieked. A golden blur rushed through the doorman's legs and headed down the walkway.
"Get that cat!" the doorman bellowed. "Hurry! He'll be hell to find again!"
Justice reacted without thinking and ran. Behind him, he heard the doorman yelling and Krishna exhorting him on. A few aristocratic passersby paused in open-mouthed wonder. Justice dodged a woman, called back an apology, and kept up the chase.
Sunny, meanwhile, headed directly for the second level stairs, gaining ground as he went. Justice stumbled once, his breath rasping in his throat. "Dammit, Sunny! Come back here! It's me, Justice! I'm trying to take you home!"
But the last thing on Sunny's mind was listening— even if the voice was Justice's: he tore down the stairs in a flash of a gold tail. Panting, Justice hooked a hand on the railing, swung around the corner and pelted down after, just in time to see Sunny disappear through the bars on the gateway to the walkway beyond.
His heel caught on a step, and grabbing the railing, Justice caught himself before he tumbled to the bottom.
"What's going on here?"
Justice looked up, rubbing his ankle; the gatewarden was staring at him, his expression halfway between amusement and anger.
"Lost a cat," Justice panted. "It belonged to one of Krishna's friends on White."
"Huhn." The gatewarden turned to stare off down the walkway. "Well, m'ser, you c'n kiss that cat goodbye. He's gone, for sure."
Gone. But where? Justice cringed. Merovingen was not the most hospitable place for a loose cat. Sunny might fall into the hands of someone far less friendly than the rich lady of White.
He shook his head and turned back up the stairway, nursing his twisted ankle as he climbed. It took him a while to walk back to the Uptown house, and by the time he reached Rhajmurti and Krishna, the student and the doorman were involved in a violent, escalating argument.
"I refuse!" Krishna exploded. "Refuse! I'll give you a demi back for him. Not a libby more."
"M'ser," the doorman said stiffly, "this entire thing could be turned over to the law, you know. Since my Mistress no longer has her cat and the chances of finding him again are next to none, I repeat my demand for an additional gram to cover her pain and suffering."
"Her pain and suffering!" Krishna yelled. "What about mine! I haven't got it!"
"As I said, there's always the law."
Krishna cast an agonized look at Father Rhajmurti but the priest remained inscrutable.
Justice stood close by, his knees still shaking from the run, and his ankle beginning to throb. Suddenly— an idea ... a true inspiration. Damn! You've got him, man... got that rich bastard right where you want him.
"How much of that demi did you spend, Krishna?" he asked.
"Uhh ... two grams. Dinner and drinks at Hilda's."
Three grams, counting the additional punitive gram the doorman demanded. Justice calculated swiftly. He had always lived frugally and saved quite a bit from his monthly allowance. Three grams would hardly give Krishna pause under normal circumstances. But these circumstances were far from normal.
"I'll lend you the money," Justice said. Krishna stared. "You? Me borrow money from you?"
"There's always the law," the doorman repeated. Justice smiled smugly. There were only two choices Krishna could make: he could send to his father for the money, having to explain why he needed it; or he could take the money Justice offered, and the karma. "I'll take it."
"Such gratitude," Justice said, digging inside the deep inner pocket of his shirt. He came up with one gram, then two more. The silver caught the fading sunlight as he extended the money to Krishna.
Krishna meanwhile had found what remained of the demi he had received for Sunny. He reached for Justice's three grams, combined the two sums, then extended the total to the doorman.
The doorman counted the coins, nodded briefly and turned to Rhajmurti. "I'm not even going to ask what happened here," he said, "but as a priest of the College I hope you'll note that both parties are satisfied. My Mistress has her money back and m'ser has no cat to resell."
Rhajmurti nodded and the doorman bowed slightly to Krishna, turned and shut the door behind him.
"I'll pay you back, Justus," Krishna growled. His brown eyes glinted in the dimming light. "A Malenkov always pays his debts."
He stalked off then, leaving Justice and Rhajmurti to follow slowly.
It was chill and fully dark when Justice and Rhajmurti returned to Hilda's Tavern. Beneath the sadness he felt over the loss of Sunny, Justice admitted he was rather pleased at having Krishna in karmic debt.
The warmth indoors was welcome, even after the brisk walk. Justice stopped and stood blinking in the bright light, Rhajmurti at his side. Then, he stared in disbelief.
There, sitting in an empty chair at Justice's usual table, was Hilda's large gold cat. Justice glanced at Rhajmurti, then looked back again. But Sunny seemed totally unconcerned by the afternoon's events and, lifting his front paw, set about taking a leisurely bath.
Hilda came from behind the bar, a wide grin on her ruddy face.
"There now ... ye see? I told ye."
Justice looked back at Sunny.
Hilda laughed and patted Justice on the cheek. "Sweet lad to have worriet so— But do ye honestly think this is the first time one of my roomers has tried to sell of Sunny?" She smiled fondly and looked over at her cat, who was now busy with a rear leg. "That there's the cat that always comes back."
FESTIVAL MOON (REPRISED)
CJ. Cherryh
The lamps and lanterns were out again, gliding along the black water below Boregy's tall windows, and that was an unaccustomed view for a canal-rat to have from the inside of those windows outward.
Unaccustomed too, the feel of the tight long trousers and the silk on her shoulders and the way Mondragon's hands smoothed down it. It was a scary kind of thing, like coming in here in the first place, up to the big bedroom with the huge bed and the fancy bathroom with its brass toilet—even his hands felt
scary, like they wanted something more than she had, reminding her of lessons and lessons and lessons and she could never remember when it was isn't and when it was aren't and how to walk with one foot in front of the other like hightowners walked and not fall out of the damned slippers.
Them she had kicked off. They hurt.
And she felt a damn fool.
"You going to talk to me?" she asked, ignoring the hands. "You going to answer me?"
Where he had been was not the question. It was Boregy, proper enough, with her skip clear across town in Gallandry Cut, with everything she owned in all the world.
But Mondragon called this safer.
"They have their excuse now," he said. "There'll be blacklegs from one end of town to the other. They'll harass every Adventist house in town—Gallandry, Mantovan—right down to the little ones."
"You saying that's my fault."
"No. I'm not." He turned her around and the damned slick blouse slid half open in front, but he had her hands and he was looking in her eyes, not there. "I'm saying it's an excuse and they'd have made one. Festival time and all that goes on out there—they could well have made one. Maybe they did."
"Well, what're ye doing here, fGod's sake?" She freed her arms and buttoned up to the collar. "What're we going to come here for, why we going to talk to him, when ye don't know it ain't damn Anastasi himself come hunting you?"
"I thought of it. Believe me. But there's nowhere to hide, then, is there?"
"Ye got the canals, ye got—"
"I had no choice... but to come here. To be loyal to one side." He touched her chin softly and rolled his eyes up and about, sending a little chill down her back. She straightened her collar, thinking of watchers and listeners. And being a damn fool again, talking out.
"Yey, well—"
"Put your shoes on."
It was down the hallway full of electrics that spent a canaler's week's take every little while they burned; it was into a little room full of books, true books; and a table, and Anastasi Kalugin himself sitting at it, him with his pale, pale skin and his black hair and enough jewelry at his collar to buy half the lives in Merovingen-below.