Page 43 of Queen Demon
Kai had to stop and look over the railing, and even the impatient Dahin lingered for a glance. What must have been a maze of prison cells had been rebuilt into two levels of multiple dwellings, roofed with tile, with little balconies and a communal kitchen in the center. It was well occupied, from the people moving around on the ramps and the amount of laundry hanging out to dry. He could hear running water, and the strongest scent was something cooking with saffron. “The drainage must have been a problem,” he said.
“It was,” Etem agreed, with only a little surprise. “The prison was not much concerned with hygiene. But the Belith engineers devised a clever system for it.”
Dahin tugged Kai’s sleeve. “You can compare notes later.” He explained to Etem, “He lives in a well.”
“It’s a big well,” Kai said defensively as they continued down the bridge.
The envoy house at the end had been built in the far northern Enalin style, out of smooth wooden tree trunks supporting a jumble of steeply pitched tile roofs and glass windows. The bridge led through a series of open gates with pointed arches, decorative rather than secure. Etem led them to the side, where a sheltered platform was set up as a waiting area for guests. It had a low square stone stove in its center, a welcome warmth rising from the coals inside, and it was ringed by wooden benches with cushions. “Please wait here,” Etem said, “while I carry your message inside.”
They took seats, and Dahin commented, “Not the hospitality of the house. They’re being cautious.” His left knee started to jiggle impatiently. “Do you think they’ll keep us waiting long?”
“Have you got something else to do tonight?” Kai asked. There were other Enalin, probably more Wardens or Doorkeepers, lurkingnear the pointed arch that led into the house’s main entrance, trying to snatch curious glances while still being polite.
One emerged from the house and came over to offer a tray with two ceramic cups, a tisane made from fenugreek seeds. Offering a drink was an old custom, going back to a turbulent past that had long faded into history. Like the martial paintings of the Arike that celebrated the city-state wars, even as they settled all their disputes in councils and assemblies now.
They barely had time to finish the drink, when Etem returned with another person. They were older than the rest of the Doorkeepers and attendants, their hair silver and gray and the lines of weather and laughter etched into the skin around their eyes and mouth. They said, “I am Reanis, the Senior Doorkeeper of this house. The Tescai-lin asks Kaiisteron what Bashasa bar Calis never lost.”
It was a test, which Kai expected; it was only sensible after Kai had been declared missing, and was turning up here in a different body. It also told him the Tescai-lin was actually here, since they were one of the few still living who would know to ask this question. But this particular test hit him harder in the heart than had probably been intended. Still, he pulled his veil off and said, “Hope.”
Reanis smiled. “Please accept the hospitality of the house.”
Reanis led them through the last gate and into the foyer. It was high-ceilinged with dark wooden walls, lit by pierced copper lamps. There were basins set into a stone table where they could wash their hands. As quiet as the house looked from outside, from the foyer Kai could hear voices speaking the more informal Enalin dialect, laughter, and more distantly several stringed instruments. Faces peered over one of the balconies in the upper half of the room; children, drawn by the sound of visitors being greeted.
Next they were taken to an enclosed court with a fountain pool. There were more benches here lined with cushions, and low tables. Crane messenger birds stood elegantly in the shallow water, coolly eyeing the visitors. Two young Doorkeepers were just setting down trays. There was a carafe and glasses of what looked like hibiscus water and some traditional greeting sweets that were triangular pockets of dough filled with dried fruit and nuts and honey. Reanis said, “Would you speak to the Light now, or accept hospitality first?” They eyed Dahin, who had gone to hover over the table with the pastries. “I don’t know how long your journey has been.”
Kai told them, “I’ll speak to the Light now, if they are ready. The rest of our family is waiting in the port. Could they join us here?”
“Of course. The house is open to any companions of Kaiisteron,” Reanis assured him.
Dahin waved, hastily swallowing a bite of pastry. “I’ll arrange for the raft. You go ahead, soften them up for me. I mean, apprise them of the situation so far.”
As Reanis frowned dubiously at Dahin, Kai touched Ziede’s heart pearl briefly and sent her the direction of the house. With the prison ruin turned into a hostel visible from the air, he didn’t think they would have any trouble recognizing it. Her acknowledgment was wordless, but it was enough for him to know they were well, and had been eating fresh fishcakes in front of a firepit at the port cookshop.
Reanis led Kai deeper inside the house, down a couple of broad corridors. The walls were all of the same dark rich wood, sometimes with painted panels of forests or fields, or views from cliff tops of storm-tossed seas. They passed an open door that led to a balcony, looking out on the garden of another house, and Kai twitched at the lack of security. He had to remind himself that they weren’t at war with anyone and the Tescai-lin and the Enalin ambassador to Belith would have their own protections.
They reached a foyer with a waterfall fountain and Reanis stopped, gesturing him to go ahead. Kai noted that the play of water was just loud enough to keep anyone from overhearing a conversation, even inadvertently.
Past it was a room lined with paintings of a city, or maybe several cities, and Kai recognized the architecture of Nibet: delicate towers and onion-shaped domes, the bridges and ornamental waterways. It was Nibet as it had been once, lush with gardens and shaded by parasol trees, filled with scholars and students and pilgrims.
In the center of the room, the Light sat on a cushioned platform a few handspans off the floor, padded with pillows. They gestured Kai to another couch opposite. Kai stepped onto it, sat on the pillows, and put his feet on the wooden rest. It felt awkward; this body didn’t have the sense-memory of dealing with the different configuration of formal Enalin furniture.
It was also a little awkward to be dealing with the different configuration of the Tescai-lin, Lord of the Hundred Coronels and the Light of Enalin. The Tescai-lin of the Hierarchs War had died some years ago and had been reborn into a new body. They were currently a small youth with the same dark skin and eyes but with more delicate features and shorter hair that had been woven into a tight cap of intricate braids. Kai had only seen them once since it happened and he still wasn’t used to it. As they took in Kai’s appearance, their sharp brows quirked with amusement. They said, “Kaiisteron. Now we are both somewhat different from what we were.”
Waiting on a low table was an Arike glass drinking set with delicate spirals of blue woven through it. “Somewhat,” Kai agreed, smiling as the Light poured and handed him a cup. It was one of his favorites, a blend of milk and sesame. “I wondered why you had gone to Belith with the Rising World council still in session, then I heard about the Ancartre expedition to Sun-Ar.”
The Light acknowledged that with a nod, setting the carafe aside. “I thought that might be why you were here, with Dahin Stargard. Are the others well and with you?”
“Tahren and Ziede are here, with two others you haven’t met yet, on their way from the port.” He hesitated, but the Light was still waiting expectantly. “Do you know why the Belith envoy called an emergency meeting of the council? Did something happen to the expedition?”
“I have some knowledge of it. No harm has come to the scholars as far as I know. They consulted me before they left, since I am one of the remaining few with personal knowledge of the original trip to Sun-Ar.” The Light eyed him. “But first, I would hear what happened to make you and Ziede Daiyahah miss the failure of Bashat’s Imperial renewal. I know how much you were looking forward to it.”
“Ah.” Kai had to smile. The younger Tescai-lin sounded so much like their old incarnation. “What have you been told?”
The Light sat back. “A story was reported to me, told by the once emperor now Prince-heir again Bashat, during an unusually exciting meeting of the council. I felt there was more to be said, but I would hear the rest from you.”
Kai would rather the Light hear it from him too. He said, “My version is a little different from Bashat’s,” and started at the beginning, with him and Ziede waking in their tomb prison. The Light listened in increasing consternation, until Kai reached the end. They held up a hand and said, “Bashat informed the council that Tahren Stargard had been abducted, but was less forthcoming about where you and Ziede might be. He let these conspirators take you? He let them murder you? This person who wanted to become our emperor?”
Kai had been against that even before Bashat had betrayed him. “The Enalin consensus didn’t let that happen.”
