4
The Inn at Moharrin
I hung back as the grown-ups rode on. People rushed out of the houses as we reached the outskirts of the village. They surrounded Rosethorn and Myrrhtide, giving me the shivers.
“Evumeimei, you are unhappy,” Luvo remarked. “Are you so weary from your journey?”
Luvo sees in the dark. I think he sees, anyway.
“People,” I grumbled. “Look at them. They swarm around Rosethorn and Myrrhtide like ants at a feast. They do everything but wag their tails—”
“Ants do not have tails, Evumeimei.”
He couldn’t distract me so easily, not when I was cranky at seeing the old game begin again. “Don’t play logic games, please. Just listen to them for me, will you?” I asked. Luvo could hear at great distances. It was very useful.
“They say it is an honor for their village and their island, that two dedicate initiates of Winding Circle temple are here. They say they could not have hoped for such blessings. They are happy, Evumeimei.”
“They’re happy now, Luvo. People always start out being grateful,” I reminded him. “But under the gratitude? They’re already telling themselves that Rosethorn owes—”
“Not Myrrhtide?”
Luvo was learning too many human tricks, including trying to distract me. It wasn’t at all becoming for a rock to be so sly. I ignored him. “Fusspot, too, if you insist. That our people owe them work and magic. That they should half-kill themselves in the service of this, this beetle-spit village next to its chicken-piddle lake on its donkey-dung island. You watch. Fast enough their requests will turn into demands and orders. That’s what people are like. If you do things for them? You turn from friend, or even helpful stranger, into a slave.”
I hadn’t noticed that Jayat had returned on foot. He’d come through the trees on my right. That was why I hadn’t noticed him getting close to me. He’d heard some of what I told Luvo. “Evvy, how can you say that? Surely you don’t believe people are so cruel.”
I slumped in my saddle. I hated having this argument with others, even more so when they seemed like they might be sensible. I squinted so I could see Jayat’s face better in the shadows. “I know they are that cruel. See here. My mother sold me as a slave when I was six. It was because I was one mouth too many, and only a girl. I understood that. The part I minded was where they sold me. They brought me all the way from Yanjing to Chammur. Why didn’t they just sell me in Yanjing? At least I was born there, and I knew the language.”
“You would have liked it if they sold you before they left?” Jayat sounded shocked.
“It would have made more sense,” I answered. “In Chammur I was a stupid slave who could barely talk. I had to run away, my master beat me so much. Then I lived on the street. You really see the good side of people that way. They chase you from their garbage heaps with brooms and rakes. They dump chamber pots on your head. They scream ‘thief!’ when you walk by, they steal what little you have, they kick you when they pass…For every person who did me a kindness, I knew twenty who left bruises on me.”
Jayat took my horse’s reins. “I’m sorry, Evvy. I must have sounded like an idiot.” He looked up at me. “But people are different here. We won’t take advantage of either of your dedicates. You have to trust me on that. She’ll see, won’t she, Master Luvo?”
Luvo was as silent as clay.
Jayat glared at him. “Master Luvo?”
Luvo clicked and said, “My knowledge of humanity is most incomplete, Jayatin. The samples of it that I have encountered until today have been of a mixed kind.”
Luvo always could say something bad so politely that it almost sounded good.
“We were in a war,” I told Jayat. “It sours you, kind of.”
We had reached the circle of light in front of the inn. Rosethorn, Oswin, and Myrrhtide had already given their horses to stable hands for care. I slid off mine and hit the ground with a wince. My knees and thighs moaned. I hadn’t done so much riding in months. My bum felt like crumbling sandstone. I hung Luvo’s sling over one shoulder, and my stone mage kit over the other. A stable boy took my reins.
Jayat got my saddlebags, lifting them down with a grunt. “What have you got in here, rocks?”
I grinned at him.
“So what happened?” He showed me inside and up a set of stairs. “How did you come to be traveling with Dedicate Rosethorn, if you were a street kid…where?”
He opened a door and ushered me into a room with two beds. I saw that Rosethorn’s gear was already there. I also saw a basin of warm water, soap, and cloths to dry with.
“Luvo, would you tell him while I clean up? I feel like I have a mask of dust on my face.”
“I do know the story. Evumeimei was nine human years of age when she heard the song of stones out of harmony with themselves. She was in the city of Chammur.” I had put Luvo and his sling on my bed. I peeked over. Jayat sat beside him, watching Luvo as if Luvo was the village storyteller. I giggled and began to scrub off the dust.
“She followed the disharmony to a merchant who sold stones,” Luvo went on. “She offered to clean them for coins, and in cleaning them, she restored their harmony. A year later, young Briar, Rosethorn’s student, saw Evumeimei’s magic in the stones. Briar pursued Evumeimei for days, to inform her that she had magic.”
“He sounds very determined,” Jayat said as I dried off.
“He would have to be.” Oswin stood in the open doorway. “From what I hear, the mages of Lightsbridge and the Living Circle have strict rules. Regarding new mages, if a graduate of those schools finds one, he has to make sure that new mage gets an education. If he doesn’t, the penalties are harsh. The graduate mage will lose his credentials. Or hers.”
I nodded at Oswin. “That’s right. The only stone mage in Chammur was a fungus on legs. I refused to study with him. Briar had to teach me the easy stuff until he found somebody who wasn’t. He and Rosethorn were just visiting Chammur on their way to Yanjing, so I went with them. That’s where we met Luvo. Oswin, you know a lot about mages, for somebody who isn’t one. You aren’t a mage, right?”
“You can’t tell?” Oswin crouched by the bed so he could have a better look at Luvo.
“No, that’s Briar. And his sisters. They can all tell if someone has magic in them.” I squinted at Oswin. I always do that, squint at people, though I can’t really see magic. At the same time I reached out with my power to try to feel Oswin’s. I felt only air, like I do with most people. I’d only felt air with Jayat. “Are you a mage, then, Oswin?”
He gave me a twisted, sideways smile. “No, but I’ve studied what they do, every chance I get. How they use herbs, how they clean wounds—whatever helps the magic along. You’d be surprised how many of those things a normal human can put to use.”
“Oswin’s the reason why Starns hasn’t needed to call on outside mages in years.” Jayat said it with as much pride as if he was the reason.
“That’s not true.” When Oswin blushed, he did it from the collar of his tunic all the way to the back of his skull. There wasn’t any hair to cover it. “Tahar is good for most problems, and you’re coming along, Jayat.”
Jayat chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound, like warm honey. “Tahar would tell you herself, she can’t even predict the weather with a spyglass and a tall rock to stand on. Maybe once, but she’s too old now. She’s good enough for the likes of me, with my cupful of talent, but what does that say? None of us is up to Winding Circle standards. If we were, we’d be somewhere else, earning a real living.”
“It is a wise mortal who knows his limits, young Jayatin.” Luvo cocked his head knob to look at Oswin. “And what kind of man is it who is more valuable than mages?”
“I’m not.” Oswin turned even redder.
“Oswin fixes things.” Jayat leaned back on the bed. “Let’s say you have a problem. Maybe your well’s gone dry, or your barn roof is falling apart. You have no money for a new roof, or the mage can’t find water to fill your w
ell. So you go to Oswin’s with a loaf of bread or a crock of pickled eggplant, and you tell him your problem. Oswin comes to your place with a slate and chalk and looks things over. He starts drawing things and telling you what you have to do. Sometimes it involves helping another fellow who comes to help you. Sometimes Oswin builds a device to fix your well so you have water again. Then you send him home with a roast leg of lamb or a sack of couscous. They always need food at his house.”
“Oswin fixes things.” I said it again just to be sure I had it straight.
Jayat nodded. “Now, he might see what your Rosethorn does for plants. Next time he’ll remember what medicines she used besides her magic. If we use the medicines first, before the plants are dying, maybe we won’t need the magic.”
“Now, then! Is this how you show folk Moharrin hospitality?” a woman asked from the doorway. Oswin and Jayat leaped to their feet, as if they were boys who’d been caught raiding the pantry. The woman looked them over with snapping black eyes. She was queenly tall. She looked even taller with her henna-red hair pinned in a knot on top of her head. Her dress was plain brown cotton with yellow and orange embroideries, under a sleeveless yellow robe. Still, the emperor didn’t look so regal in all his silk. When she frowned, her thin black eyebrows snapped together over an eagle-beak nose. “This child has been riding all day. Now I find you’ve kept her here, gabbling like a goose, when doubtless she’s starving. In my house!” She looked at me. “Your Dedicate Rosethorn tells me that you are Evvy. I am Azaze Yopali, headwoman of Moharrin. My apologies for these two scapegraces.”
“We didn’t mean—” Jayat hurried to say.
“We were just explaining a few things.” Oswin was sweating a little. I stuffed my sleeve in my mouth so, if I giggled, no one would hear.
“Forgive us, Azaze Yopali.” Luvo reared back on his bottom end. He stretched up as high as he could, though that wasn’t very far. “I am unable to reply to questions speedily. I fear the delay was mine, and the blame is mine.”
For a moment the lady could only blink. Then she said, “I wasn’t told of a talking rock.”
“I prefer to be known as Luvo, though it is not my complete name. ‘Talking rock’ is unflattering at best.”
Again Azaze was briefly silent. “Are there more of you about?”
“They prefer to keep to their mountains. I am an unusual sample of my kind.”
“I don’t know what to feed you,” Azaze said.
“You need not concern yourself, but accept my thanks,” Luvo told her politely. “I dine on the power within the earth, and take it as I need it. As to my housing, I remain with Evumeimei. We have traveled together for some time and are accustomed to one another.”
Azaze smoothed her hair. “Well.” She looked at me sharply. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, that’s plain. Come down and be fed. And—Master Luvo is welcome for his company, if he likes.” She turned and walked downstairs, muttering to herself.
“We should have taken you to supper.” Oswin still looked sheepish. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to get to know Luvo better. Come on, Evvy. Azaze’s as prickly as a thornberry bush, but her girls know how to serve a meal.”
“Do they ever!” Jayat said eagerly. “Master Luvo, may I take you down to the common room?”
“Do you want to walk, Luvo?” I asked. “I know you don’t like steps.”
“Thank you, Evumeimei. I would prefer to be carried on the stairs.”
Before I could warn Jayat to let me do it, Jayat put his hands around Luvo. Luvo’s size being what it was, I knew Jayat had expected Luvo to weigh four or five pounds at most. Jayat lifted, and almost fell over.
“You’d better let me carry him,” I warned. “Me being a stone mage, it’s a lot easier.”
“No, I can do it. Excuse me,” Jayat told Luvo.
I looked at Oswin. He stood just outside, a finger on his lips, watching Jayat try to pick Luvo up. His eyes were interested, but distant, like Briar’s when he was thinking. I wondered if that was the look Oswin had when he was deciding how to fix something.
It was a good thing for Jayat that Luvo is the patient sort. When he likes someone, he only weighs about forty pounds. Once, he adjusted himself when someone he didn’t like was lifting him. It didn’t go well for that man’s back. I hadn’t liked the fellow, either.
“Can your Briar carry him?” Jayat staggered as he carried Luvo to the stairs.
“Briar knows to leave stone things to me,” I said. Oswin and I followed them. “Actually, that’s what I liked about him, once I got to know him. He was the first person I knew who ever treated me like I had a mind of my own. See, he was a street rat, once. He knew how bad people could be. So he knew what would help me understand things.”
“He…sounds…like a…paragon.” Jayat was puffing when we walked into the main room of the inn.
Paragon—I knew that word!
Jayat set Luvo down on the table closest to the door and collapsed onto the bench.
“I’ll get the food.” Oswin patted Jayat on the shoulder. “I think you’ve done enough for today.”
I giggled at both of them as Oswin walked off. “Briar’s no paragon, Jayat. He likes pretty girls and picking locks and making jokes and playing with knives. And he’s a realist. We both are.” I looked across the room. “And we both look out for Rosethorn.”
She and Fusspot sat with Azaze and a few people who seemed to think they were important. They had a table near a big stone hearth. There was a fire burning there, even though it was the middle of the summer. The room needed the heat. The air up here was even colder than it had been when I’d gotten Rosethorn’s coat on her. There were more grown-ups at other tables around the room, eating, drinking, and eyeing the main table.
“You watch Azaze.” Jayat had caught his breath. “She won’t let people impose on your Rosethorn.”
It was true: Two men approached the table, only to leave when Azaze glared at them. I was impressed, but how long could it last? There had to be people about who weren’t afraid of Azaze, headwoman or no. And I’d seen plenty of headwomen and headmen who would do what they were told, if enough rich people told them to do it.
At least they were feeding Rosethorn. Girls in aprons were putting bowls and plates before Rosethorn and Myrrhtide. They already had bread, hummus, and olives in front of them. Fusspot smiled and nodded to everyone, as if he was king of the Battle Islands. Rosethorn listened to Azaze and ate with a serious appetite. That was good. She wasn’t too tired to pick at her food.
Oswin gave us bowls of chicken stew and pulled spoons wrapped in napkins from his sash. The stew smelled of ginger and cinnamon. My belly growled. Behind Oswin, a maid brought us a tray of plates: hot bread, olives, chickpea and yogurt dips, lentils cooked with noodles, and pastries stuffed with eggplant. I swallowed my saliva and dug into my stew. It was delicious.
“Is the death of your plants and trees so unusual, Oswin?” Luvo had settled on the table where he could watch the room. He never got tired of looking at things, human or natural.
“I haven’t seen anything like this, Master Luvo.” Oswin scooped up hummus and olives with his bread. “Trees, strong, healthy ones, gone dead overnight—actually overnight. And I’ve never seen something that killed plants and animals in the same spot. It’s happened all around Mount Grace. The same thing with water sources. A pond that was good one day is acid the next, the fish, the plants all dead. It’s like the place has been cursed, but it’s a random curse. It doesn’t strike any one family or village. I’ll tell you, it’s the saddest thing in the world, to go to a place that was living a month ago, and find it…dead.” His mouth made a hard line. “If it’s a person who’s doing this, I’d like to dump him in one of the acid ponds. There’s an old pine in the grove by my place—it was there in my grandfather’s day. I’m going to have to cut it down, before it drops on one of the children.”
Jayat looked up and swallowed hard. “Speaking of your household.”
I turned around. A beautiful girl about Jayat’s age had come in. She walked over to lean on Oswin’s shoulder and steal a piece of bread. She moved like a dancer, swaying and graceful, as she whispered to Oswin. Her hair was the color of dark honey. She had a tiny, delicate nose. I tugged at the end of mine, trying to give it a little point. It stayed flat.
Oswin swore. “I told Treak if he started one more fight he was out on his ear.”
“I think that was the ear he wasn’t listening with,” the girl replied. Even her voice was pretty.
“All right, I’m coming. Nory, this is Evvy. Evvy, this is Nory.” Oswin got up. “It was very nice meeting you, Evvy.” He looked at Luvo. “And amazing to meet you. I actually wanted to ask—”
Nory dragged on his arm. “Treak is breaking furniture and you’re talking to a rock?”
“Furniture?” Oswin was red again. This time, from the way his eyes were bulging, I think he was red from anger. He hurried out, the girl trotting beside him.
“Remember I said he always needs food at his house?” Jayat asked. “A lot of kids were orphaned or left behind when the pirates were cleaned out. Oswin found homes for plenty of them all around this island, but not all of them. The rest live with him. They can be a handful.”
I wasn’t listening very closely. I was looking at my tea instead. I hadn’t touched the cup or jostled the table, yet the tea rippled, as if a stone had fallen into its center. On and on the ripples went. I looked at what was left of my stew. There, too, the liquid shivered. I closed my eyes. Grimly I concentrated on what I could feel. Under my feet and my behind I felt the ghost of a vibration in the floor and in the bench.
I rested my hand on Luvo. More earth-pulses? I asked him.
The earth can be as restless in its sleep as you, Evumeimei. I didn’t like his tone. It was troubled. Luvo had faced armies in Gyongxe without even grinding his crystal jaws. I hoped that whatever troubled him would go away soon, before it started to trouble me as well.
5
Dead Water