Palimpsest

Nirali –the city of pleasure– has no king. It has no army, no charter, and no official status in any kingdom's records. What it has is walls that have never been taken, a small harbor that has never been closed, and the particular reputation of a city that has survived five hundred years by being more useful to everyone than it is a problem for anyone.

It is, depending on who you ask, either the freest city in the world or the most carefully managed. Both answers are correct. They are also, in Nirali, considered the same thing.

— A Merchant's Register: Notes on Guild Commerce in the Free Cities. Ninth edition.

Chapter 28 The Beginning

Smoke was rising from the city, but only a distant echo of the chaos inside could carry beyond the walls. Foreign merchants were leaving the harbor in haste with their ships, and the western gate was being forced open by those trying to flee. The sun had passed its highest point and was beginning to lower toward the city behind them. The sea breeze moved through Kaelin's hair as she stood ramrod-straight in front of the setting sun, and she looked as though she had caught fire. Without taking her eyes off her, she was looking at the woman across from her, and Mistress was looking at her in the same way — but the commanding look that was always in her eyes was gone, and instead she was looking at Kaelin as though she were proud of her, even as she hid a sadness at the corner of her mouth.

When Veylith stepped forward to come up beside Kaelin, her hand had already moved to the weapons at her belt, and Asha across from them had gripped her spear in answer — but when Kaelin, without turning to look at her, reached out and laid her hand on Veylith's arm, Veylith glanced at her for an instant and let her hands fall back to her sides. Mistress turned her head slightly toward Asha, and Asha shouldered the spear behind her again. Then Mistress walked slowly into the shade of the great tree, and Asha followed. After watching them for a brief moment, Kaelin too made for the tree's shade, and without a word the others fell in behind her. When they had all gathered in the wide shade of the tree, Mistress and Kaelin came to face each other a step apart and stood there taking each other in. Kaelin felt respect for her, but after the things she had been through these last few days, she didn't trust easily, and she didn't want to take the first step.

"You look tired," Mistress said at last, in a tone unlike the hard one Kaelin was used to, and at the sound of it Kaelin involuntarily eased — because she had heard this tone before. It was the same voice that came at the end of a hard night, when a guest had tried to take her as far as she could go: the voice of that rarely-seen tender woman who would gather her into her arms beneath the bedclothes and talk to her about nothing in particular, of this and that, until she could breathe again.

"The last few days have been hard," Kaelin said, no longer as taut as she had been a moment ago.

"I know," the woman answered, and there was warmth in it. She was still taking her in as she spoke, her eyes moving over the soiled, even torn, clothes Kaelin was wearing. Then the noise from the city's western gate broke her concentration, and she quickly drew herself up and went on. "There is a great deal we need to talk about, but unfortunately we have very little time. Nirali — you know it, don't you?"

"Yes," Kaelin said, after an instant of surprise. "The City of Pleasure."

"Good. It is one of the last few cities the Ledger does not control. The city has no king, and no allegiance to anywhere. Authority lies entirely with Red Lantern, and you will be safer there than anywhere else I could send you. But still, no place is fully safe for you — don't forget that."

"Why?" Kaelin said. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we have lived inside their reality for over a thousand years. They shaped the entire continent the way they wished and rewrote history. Someone has to stand against this. You may have been inside this war for four days, but the war has been waiting for you for centuries. Red Lantern is a great deal more than what you took it for — you will see. But…" she said, swallowing at last, and her voice changed. "All of that is secondary for me. None of it would have to be true and I would still help you, because you are my responsibility. From the moment you stepped through my door and trusted me, your safety has been mine to keep, like the others'. That I haven't been better at it shames me before you."

Kaelin didn't answer right away, because the woman truly looked sorrowful, and she realized she hadn't understood until now how much Mistress had cared for her. There were a great many things she wanted to say to her, but the time was running short, and she had to ask only what mattered most.

"I still don't know what happened to me today, or how to use any of it. And yet everyone is already acting as though I've become the head of some movement. I'm not a fighter, and I'm not a leader. What am I supposed to do?"

"I'm sorry, but no one can teach you what this power is or how to use it. Even the Ledger doesn't fully know what they're up against. That is one of the reasons they see you as a threat. I know you've lived through a great deal in a very short time, and what I'm telling you isn't easy to take in. But this is only the beginning of your journey. Trust your instincts, always. Help will come to you."

When she had said this, she gracefully took Kaelin's hand, and with the other drew a bracelet from inside her dress. She slid the slim bronze bracelet, worked with floral patterns, slowly onto Kaelin's wrist. Looking more closely, Kaelin saw a fine yellow ring at the center of it, with a flower worked into that as well. After fastening the bracelet, instead of letting go of her hand Mistress took it now in both of hers and went on in a graver tone.

"We don't know what or who they are, but the one they call the Hunter set out yesterday from Karthul. We believe it is after you. When you show this bracelet, no matter the city or the kingdom you are in, the Red Lantern houses will take you in. You can trust that they will give you whatever help they can without asking a single question." Then, as the noise from the city rose, her eye flicked involuntarily to the gate for an instant. "From the Shearwind pass it is a ten-day road to Nirali. A day's journey to the northwest is a town called Crestwick — you can find horses there. Stay off the main roads." Then she turned to Veylith. "You will see to the rest however you must."

Veylith nodded.

"Asha!" she called to the woman behind her, and Asha lifted the wide bundle she had set down on the ground, brought it across, and handed it to Ravah. A measured, meaningful look passed between them. "It isn't much — only a little clothing and food for the road," she said, when they had taken the bundle. While the others looked at the bundle without opening it, curious, Mistress, still holding Kaelin's hand, came a little closer.

"I'm sorry about Mayra," she said, almost in a whisper.

For an instant Kaelin felt the weight settle in her chest again. Without saying anything she gripped the woman's hand more tightly. Of course she knew, she thought.

"Mistress…" she began, but couldn't find anything to say.

"Call me Sereth — if our paths cross again," the woman answered, and then drew back from her and said, in a voice the others could hear, "Now go." Before letting go of her hand, she added, "Don't waste this." Then she let go, and she and Asha walked between them and started back toward the city gate. As the others were preparing to set out, Kaelin stood for a brief moment watching them go. Then she turned her head straight ahead toward the distance and drew a long breath. She heard the others' footsteps approaching her. Vaelra laid a hand at her back and stood right beside her. Veylith took her other side and looked ahead. As though all of them were waiting on her to move.

Kaelin took the leather strap out of her pocket and quietly gathered her hair, which had been blowing about. She looked out over the wide stretches of land in front of her, at the waves the wind was making across the grass as though it were the sea, and then she lifted her eyes to the horizon, to mountains she had never crossed, to hills, to forests. At last she took the first step, and began to walk. Without saying anything, the others followed her. As they moved away from the city, the smell of green began to overwhelm everything else. The traces of what she was leaving behind grew dimmer and dimmer until, at last, they disappeared. Walking through a stretch of jasmine flowers, she drew an easier breath — it smelled like freedom.

◈◈◈

By the time Ithran returned to his office the sky had darkened, but the noise of the chaos outside was still coming through. The orange light leaking in through his long horizontal window laid a band across the ceiling, while the flames of the fire lit the side of his face that was turned to the outside. The flames were dying down, but the fact that the situation still hadn't been brought under control kept him on edge.

The office door opened directly, without a knock. Ithran did not turn his head. "You're late," he said, still watching the flames outside.

"The roads from Karthul were rougher than usual," said the voice from the shadow. The voice was calm, the words measured. Ithran finally turned around.

"Close the door," he said, and made for his chair. The figure in the dark closed the door, settled into one of the chairs in front of the desk without a word, and crossed one leg over the other.

"You know the situation," Ithran said in a strained voice. It was not a question.

"Your messenger found me at the Veldrath pass."

"Then you know what's happened here."

"As much as the city knows," came the answer, after a brief pause, and then: "Which is probably less than half the truth."

Ithran smiled tensely. He looked at the papers that had been sitting on his desk all morning, none of which he had touched, and let out a breath as he leaned back. "The seal was broken. A twenty-year plan was lost in a few days. Tarr'en is dead, and the city's memory has returned. We don't yet know the reach of the effect. By our estimates the operation has been exposed in at least three other cities near here."

No answer came from across the desk.

"The girl made it out of the city. There are six or seven people with her. One is an elf who carries pistols and has had military training — I think she's from the old special unit, but for now we don't know her identity. The rest are mixed. But the fact that they were able to go in and out of the headquarters means they're more than capable." He paused, then drew himself up. "The girl is the priority. She is the one. You know what she carries. Now that we've finally found her, it would do us no good to have her die. Especially not with the coronation drawing near." He leaned back again. "The others are expendable."

"You wrote that this wasn't planned."

"Tarr'en thought it was. I'm not sure. If it wasn't a planned move, then her wandering around like a bomb may be more dangerous still." He paused. A smile rose to his face, and his eyes nearly lit up. "But it might be exactly the opportunity we need."

"An innocent girl who doesn't know what she's carrying," said the figure, and there was something pleasing in the voice.

"With the right guide, she could come exactly where we want her," Ithran said in the same tone.

"Where is she going?"

"If Red Lantern is involved — and I know they are — there is only one place they would send her. Their center."

"Then I'll take the road to Nirali."

"They are perhaps a day ahead of you — but I don't imagine that's a problem for you."

"It isn't."

The figure rose at last from the chair and went to the door. Ithran got up too and came back to the front of the window.

"Do I have full discretion on this?" the figure asked, after cracking the door open and pausing.

"Whatever needs to be done," Ithran said, watching the dying flames outside. After that, only the sound of the door closing was heard.

Ithran did not leave his place for some time. As the city, slowly tired by its own rage, settled, he watched the flames slowly fade. When the last of the glow had died and there was nothing left but the dark and the smoke, he finally went back to his desk and lit the lamp at its edge. At last he picked up the papers he hadn't been able to read all day, and got to work.

---

The last god fell in a season whose name is no longer remembered. The woman who killed it stood alone in a valley, holding more power than the world had ever contained in a single body. Those who watched from the ridgeline — and there were a few, hiding — said she stood there for a very long time before she moved.

They could not agree on what her expression was. They agreed only that she did not look like someone who had won.

Before she disappeared, she is said to have spoken once. Not to those watching. To no one, or to everyone.

"Truth does not need permission. It does not need a door. Bury it and it becomes the ground you walk on. Burn it and it becomes the air you breathe. You cannot contain what was never meant to be contained. In the end it will stand, and the weight of everything built against it will be what crushes those who built it."

— Chronicle of the First Age, Ledger Archives, transcriber unknown. The final passage is disputed. Several copies omit it entirely. The reason for the omission is not recorded.

End of Book 1

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