Glass Swallow (29 page)

Rain was pleased with her new workforce. The glass-makers who had been left behind in Rolvint tended to be the apprentices who had not had the means to flee the capital during the troubles. They’d hidden along with everyone else and only felt safe enough to crawl from their bolt-holes now that the palace glass foundry had reopened. Due to the fire risk it posed, the foundry itself was on the eastern outskirts of Rolvint in an area Rain did not know well, a district of orchards and tanning fields.

The most urgent need was for clear panes. Many of the foundry tools had been looted but Rain and her apprentices salvaged enough to begin the production of crown glass. This was one of Rain’s favourite processes. After the molten gather had been blown into a cylinder shape, it was then spun on a potter’s wheel to make it flatten and spread outwards. The wavy sheets of glass were then cut into small panes and fitted in lead frames in the houses able to afford the replacement, paying with bartered goods and services until the new currency was made ready. The first building to be done was Krital’s office in the palace complex. After that, Rain insisted that the houses of the indigent be next in line before she would consider any private commissions. Those who dealt with the little glassmaker soon learnt to respect her determination to get her way. It took only a few days working for her for the apprentices to become staunchly loyal; they would not hear a word against her, especially from those still suspicious of the outsider.

When Torrent finally caught up with his daughter, he found her checking the latest batch of glass for flaws. He stood for a moment, drinking in the sight of her bending over the workbench, her hair flopping forward as she rubbed at a bubble trapped under the surface.

‘Raindrop,’ he called softly.

She sprang up. ‘Papa!’ She couldn’t believe it! He was here!

Torrent crossed the workroom in three big steps to sweep her into his arms. ‘My God, girl, don’t do that to me again! I thought you had to be dead.’

‘I’m not; I’m fine.’ She clung on tight, thinking that she’d probably never let go now she had him back.

‘More than fine from what I hear. I called in first on the palace and they told me all about you. I met a splendid chap called Mikel who seems to think you float above the ground, you are so perfect. Even the thug they’ve got in charge of the army adores you and I noticed one of your creations hanging in pride of place in his office.’ Torrent eased her back to the ground. ‘He said you were injured by an arrow.’

‘Peri shot me—but it was an accident,’ she added rapidly seeing the thundercloud gather on her father’s brow.

‘I think I met your Peri.’ Torrent’s frown deepened. ‘Out on the pass across the mountains. He was the one who told me where you were. But he didn’t mention wounding you.’

‘Peri? In the mountains? That’s not right.’

Torrent shrugged. ‘Maybe he’s not your one—but he did seem to know you well.’

‘What’s he doing out there?’

‘On guard. Said he wasn’t allowed back into the city for some reason.’

Some of the delight on Rain’s face leached away. She had been wrong: Peri had not turned from her; he had been forced to go. ‘Krital. He hates Peri—not because he shot me but because he took me from him in the first place.’

Torrent couldn’t follow her reasoning, not that it mattered just then. Soon he’d have her back home, away from these Magharnans with their chaotic state and their fragile government. ‘I see we have much to catch up on, love. But first, is it true that your cousin is dead? I’m here with Timber; he’s waiting outside.’

Rain bit her bottom lip. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is. He didn’t even make it as far as Rolvint.’

‘I’m very sorry about that. Come, let’s go and tell Timber together. He already knows the truth but he should hear it from you in person.’

Learning that Rain’s family had arrived to reclaim her, Hern insisted on holding a celebratory meal for them all that night. Katia for once was happy to welcome Rain to her table, hoping that this would mean the foreigner would soon be gone and her family return to normal.

‘It’s not that I wish her ill—indeed I hope she is happy when she gets home,’ Katia confessed to her husband as they prepared the rabbit stew together. ‘But she’s no good for Peri. I can’t get past the fact that she’s the reason he’s not here tonight.’

Rain stopped in the doorway, embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping. Katia’s attitude to her was no surprise, but this confirmed what she had feared. She only hoped her father hadn’t overheard.

‘Um, Papa, can I introduce you to Hern and Katia Falconer?’ She tugged him into the room, Timber just behind them. Her father was smiling, so she guessed his basic Magharnan learned in Port Bremis and on the road hadn’t been good enough to catch what was said.

Timber accepted the Falconers’ commiserations on the loss of his brother with suitable gravity. His eyes glistened with tears as he thumped his chest.

‘I feel I’ve lost half of myself,’ he said, before tucking heartily into a bowl of stew.

Rain spent the evening acting as translator between her family and her new friends. Hern and Torrent hit it off from the start, as Rain thought they might. Timber was frustrated by his lack of fluency so spent the evening grilling Bel for new words and phrases. Rain made a mental note to thank her later for putting up with him.

‘So, Rain, what will you do now?’ Timber asked her towards the end of the meal.

‘She’s coming home with us, of course,’ answered Torrent, holding his daughter’s hand in his lap.

But what about Peri?
thought Rain. Her father had made it clear that he expected her to go back with him immediately. Now he was here, she realized she no longer wanted to leave. There was so much she and Peri still had to settle between them. Would he still want her after she had left him to go to the bandits? At the very least, she had to see him one last time to explain. She had never actually told him that she loved him and now it might be too late.

‘We’d be very sad to lose her,’ said Hern. ‘And, seriously, I’m not sure our general will let her go. He seems to think she guarantees the success of our attempt to rebuild our shattered nation. We’re only barely keeping him under control as it is. We need you, Rain.’

Katia gave a snort.

‘Uncle,’ Timber said after Rain translated Hern’s speech for the two visitors, ‘you should bear in mind that my lovely cousin has been put in charge of the glassmaking industry—an amazing opportunity.’ Timber smiled at her, smoothing his moustache, drawing what Rain considered quite unnecessary attention to it.

Bel giggled.

‘The girl needs to be in her own home with her own people, Hern,’ said Katia, pronouncing her sentence on the troublemaker.

‘Eventually,’ countered Timber when Rain had translated for him, ‘but such talent as hers should not be squandered. She may be just what your industry needs to get back off the ground.’

‘The decision, my dear, is yours,’ said Torrent.

‘I think,’ said Rain, ‘I think we should stay—just for a bit, Papa.’ She repeated her decision in Magharnan.

Hern filled her cup. ‘I’m glad—and I know someone else will be too.’ He gave her a wink.

D
etermined that the least she could do for Peri before she had to leave was win an end to his exile, Rain waited by the door to Krital’s office. Inside, he was briefing his men and giving them orders with a characteristic mixture of bribes and threats.

‘We’ve only got twenty square miles or so under our control, true? That’s like a clean spot on a cow’s bum; the rest of the beast is a ruddy mess. I want the whole of Magharna sorted by the end of next month.’

‘That’s impossible,’ whined one commander. ‘We’ve not got enough men.’

‘Then recruit some more. Find out who used to do the local law enforcement and drag their sorry butts back on the case.’

‘We’re being turned away by some of the jettan estates,’ added another.

‘Then beat down their gates. We’re the government now; no one holds out against us. The man who tells me he’s secured the road to the border with Kir gets the next bonus.’

‘How much this time, boss … er … general?’

‘A mansion on Peacock Street. Roof on, most windows repaired. I’ll bump it to the top of the waiting list with the glassmakers if you get this done. So get out there and do what I’m paying you miserable rascals to do!’

The bandit officers filed quickly out of the office. They were a motley bunch, the only sign of uniform being the red sash Krital insisted all his men wore.

‘Next!’ roared Krital, scaring his secretary, Nighman, into dropping his record of the meeting. ‘Nighman, you’re such a frightened rabbit.’

‘Yes, boss,’ agreed the secretary.

Rain poked her head round the door. ‘Just me.’

Krital beckoned her in and put his feet up on the table, his hands linked across his chest.

‘Do you think I’m getting soft, fey lady?’

She gulped back her laughter. ‘No.’

‘I’m sitting around all day, barking orders. I think I’m becoming one of those bureaucrats I hated.’ Krital looked a little lost, surrounded by paper in the elegant surroundings of his office. With his unshaven jaw and meaty arms, he was as out of place as an oak block in an ice sculpture.

Rain perched on the chair opposite his. ‘Then why not go out with your men sometimes? Go on patrol. Join in the training. I don’t think you’re made for this.’ She gestured to the files waiting for his attention and the lines of people queuing up to see him outside.

‘You’re right.’ He yawned. ‘I thought I’d like running a country, being the power, but to be honest, it’s boring. Only Nighman’s in his element. True, scholar?’

‘True, boss,’ replied Nighman, amusing Rain with his lapse into bandit slang.

‘Met your father,’ Krital continued. ‘Wants to take you home, doesn’t he?’ He reached up to touch her mobile of the horse, making the glass tinkle.

‘Wouldn’t you in his place?’ Rain asked cautiously.

‘Probably. So what are you going to do?’

‘I was thinking of asking you a favour,’ admitted Rain.

He laughed. ‘Got someone you want me to get rid of? That idiot of a cousin of yours perhaps?’

Rain found the suggestion tasteless seeing that he had already caused the death of Shadow. It reminded her that Krital, however much he had changed since leaving banditry behind, still had ugly sides to his character. He needed careful handling at all times.

‘No, nothing like that. I want Peri back. I know you sent him away, but I really want him to return to the city.’

Krital’s face set in harsh lines. ‘Sorry, fey lady, can’t do that. Bird boy and I don’t mix well.’

Rain stood up. ‘All right.’

‘That’s it? You’re not going to argue this any further?’

‘No. I’m just going to make arrangements to go home.’

Krital slashed at the mobile, ripping some of the delicate threads so that glass showered on to his desk. ‘You can’t do that!’

Nighman ducked behind his writing table.

‘Why not?’ Rain held very still, knowing that, when unleashed, Krital’s temper could be dangerous; but she stood her ground.

‘Because you bring us good luck,’ Krital blurted out before he could stop himself. He looked embarrassed to admit his superstition.

‘I don’t feel very lucky when one of my best friends is exiled from the city.’

‘He hurt you—he deserved it.’ He turned his back to her and stared out of the window.

‘But it wasn’t about that, was it?’ Rain approached the desk and began collecting up the pieces. ‘You were annoyed about what happened that first day.’

‘He made a mockery of me.’

‘No, he didn’t. He gave you a choice and you picked the horse over me.’ She tried to lighten the situation with humour. ‘If you think about it, I’m the one who should be upset, not you.’

Krital turned around to face her. ‘You’ll stay if I let that bird boy back?’

‘Yes, at least for a while, until I’m not needed.’ She rubbed her hands nervously—her father had not given up the idea of leaving as soon as possible.