Troubled Waters (18 page)

She was just upstream from the river flats, passing between high, unfriendly banks on both sides but heading down toward calmer and more familiar waters. Once she had her bearings, she let the Marisi carry her forward but began a slow, methodical stroke that would bring her into the shallower waters of the western bank. In another ten minutes, she was able to drop her feet to the riverbed and walk the last dozen feet toward shore, splashing heavily. Her soaked clothes weighed her down, particularly her heavy, waterlogged shawl; her skin prickled with chill, even on this warm day. It was almost more effort than she could manage to pull herself out of the water’s possessive grasp and then drop to the baked stone of the flats, where she lay spread-eagled on her back.

She had been in danger of her life, but the river had saved her.

She did not know how to make sense out of such an impossible thing.

ELEVEN

Z
oe told no one about her misadventure, though both Ilene and Annova commented, during the next two days, on her unusual quietness. “It’s like the old Zoe has come back for a few days,” Annova said.

“The old Zoe?” she asked.

“The girl who first came to the river, silent and afraid. I thought she had run away forever.”

There was no way to explain, so Zoe said, “I’m just tired.”

“Well, I hope you catch up on your sleep very soon, because I think Mitchell will be joining us for dinner the day after tomorrow, and I want you to feel your best.”

Ilene did not ask personal questions, but Zoe sensed her concern. She tried to reassure the older woman by smiling a great deal, though it took an effort, and showing tireless goodwill. Even so, she knew it was worry that made Ilene let her go early one day, claiming that business was so slow that Zoe might as well treat herself to a lazy afternoon sleeping by the river.

Instead, Zoe went straight to the Plaza of Women and waited patiently behind four other petitioners until one of the blind sisters was free to talk. Then she climbed the dais and sat on the low mat.

“I stood on the banks of the canal the other day and I saw a woman jump into the water,” Zoe said. “Ten minutes went by and she did not raise her head to breathe. Another ten minutes went by and another. When she finally broke the surface of the water, she was laughing and smiling, but she never once took a breath in all that time. How is such a thing possible?”

“It’s not,” said the seer, “unless the girl is the Lalindar prime.”

Zoe shook her head. “She isn’t. True, she is a
coru
woman, and even a Lalindar, but she is not the prime.”

The seer cocked her head. Even her blank eyes looked interested. “How do you know? Christara Lalindar’s heir has not stepped forward in the two years since the old woman died.”

“But—then—who
is
Christara’s heir? Why hasn’t her son or daughter taken over the title?”

The seer held out a hand and Zoe dropped a handful of quint-silvers in her palm. Let the woman think Zoe was curiously ignorant for a Welce girl; she had no idea how the laws of inheritance worked.

“It is not such a simple thing, naming the next prime,” the seer said. “Only the primes themselves understand exactly how the process works. It is said the Dochenza prime whispers a name to the wind, or the wind whispers a name to him, and they speak one name after another until they both agree. The Ardelays swear they see a name written in fire. The Serlasts see it carved in the trunk of some old tree.” The woman shrugged. “But only the prime can say aloud the name of his or her heir.”

“And then—that’s it? The next prime is suddenly instated?”

The seer gave a skeptical chuckle. “Oh, they will claim there is more ritual than that. Mirti Serlast says she had to walk through a grove of plum trees on her brother’s estate—a grove she had visited many times during the past twenty years—but once she was named heir to the title, the trees embraced her. She felt their branches lean down to touch her shoulder—she felt the leaves sweep across her face as if memorizing its contours. The Lalindars say that the new primes are not recognized until they are wholly immersed in the Marisi River.” She shrugged again. “Each family has some such ancestral touchstone.”

Zoe could hardly breathe. She remembered the afternoon that she had gone bathing in the river with Annova and Sima. She remembered how long she had stayed underwater, not needing to breathe, feeling the river run curious fingers over her face, her arms, as if reacquainting itself with someone who had been long missed and was greatly beloved.

It was the first time she had immersed herself in the Marisi since she and her father had been exiled.

But did that mean . . . Could it mean . . .

“Does no one know who Christara wanted to be prime after her?” Zoe managed to choke out.

The seer nodded, holding out her hand again. Impatiently, Zoe gave her a quint-gold, surely enough to cover any question she might ask for the rest of the session. “Christara’s daughter, Sarone, says her niece, Zoe, was her mother’s choice. But everyone wonders if that is true, since Sarone never said a word about Zoe until Darien Serlast went off to find the girl. Zoe Ardelay was long in exile with her father and no one knew where she was,” the woman explained kindly.

“And why did Darien Serlast want this—this Zoe Ardelay?”

The quint-gold had loosened the blind woman’s tongue. “He thought she would make a suitable fifth wife for the king. He was still out of the city when Sarone stepped forward to claim Zoe was prime. All the gossips anticipated a clash of wills between Sarone Lalindar and Darien Serlast—”

“Why?” Zoe interrupted.

“Because the king cannot marry a prime, of course. All of a woman’s property is forfeit to the king when she marries, so no family ever would allow the heir to go to the royal household.”

“And did Darien Serlast find the missing girl?”

“He says he did, but he cannot produce her. He claims the Lalindar heir is alive and living in Chialto, but no one has seen her and no one knows if he is telling the truth. So the king has no fifth wife and the Lalindar house sits empty, and no one knows if the Marisi has, in fact, anointed the next Lalindar prime or if Sarone Lalindar was lying.”

Zoe slowly gathered her feet below her and stood up, pleased that she was actually able to stand. “I have a message you can give to Sarone Lalindar and Darien Serlast and anyone else who may care to hear it,” she said.

The seer tilted her head to one side, her face brightening in anticipation. “Yes?”

“Zoe Ardelay is not dead. Darien Serlast found her and brought her to the city, but she slipped away from him. She is still here, and she is trying to decide exactly when to make her presence known.”

It was the first time Zoe had seen one of the sisters dumbfounded. Her blind eyes fluttered; her wide mouth parted slightly as if otherwise she could not draw in enough air. “You’re certain,” she said, but not as if she had the remotest doubt. Zoe supposed she must have an extraordinary ability to determine when someone was telling her the truth.

“Entirely,” Zoe replied.

Without speaking another word, the seer reached out for Zoe’s hand. She returned all the coins Zoe had given her, folding Zoe’s fingers over the smooth, round edges. This was information worth more far more than gold.

I
t was a short enough walk to the temple, and Zoe felt the need for a quiet space to sit and think. But even when she paid her tithe at the door and collapsed onto the blue
coru
bench, she could not calm her jangled nerves or slow her racing mind. She was numb with disbelief, stupid with shock, but she was surprised to find that her dominant emotion was rage. Against Christara Lalindar, for being too stubborn to maintain relations with Navarr Ardelay after her daughter died. Against her Lalindar relatives, who had made no effort to locate Zoe and inform her of her inheritance, hoping instead to find some way to win it for themselves.

Against her father, who, she was beginning to suspect, had known all along that Zoe was Christara’s heir.
It is time that you remembered that you are part of your mother’s family as well,
he had said to her, only a few days before he died. Not simply part of it, oh no. The head of the family. The Lalindar prime. He had known, and he had said nothing, because he was careless or because he was vain or because he felt so much spite for Christara he wanted to make her suffer.

Zoe could not calm herself enough to sit there and meditate back into a state of balance. Already, the dozen or so other people who had taken up contemplative poses around the temple were sending her glances of irritation as she kept squirming on her pew and clenching her hands and shaking her head as if to shake away her anger and befuddlement. Abruptly she got to her feet and headed for the door, then changed her mind and strode back to the blessing barrel in the middle of the room. Plunging her hand deep into the pile, she churned the coins with such vigor that she earned a few more dark looks. She let her hand close over three coins and pulled her arm free. Not until she was outside the temple doors did she pause to see what blessings she had wrested from the fates.

Travel. Change. Surprise.

All three
coru
virtues.

All three perfectly suited to her mood.

W
hen Zoe returned to the cobbler shop the next morning, her main purpose was to tell Ilene that she would be quitting soon for reasons she could not discuss. But Ilene had more pressing matters on her mind.

“Barlow will be back tonight,” she said, fluttering around the shop, happiness brushing color into her face again. “Of course, he leaves again in two days, but it will be so nice to have him nearby tonight.”

“Yesterday I pulled the blessing for travel,” Zoe said. “You may tell him that I will extend that blessing to him as well.”

“Oh—why don’t you tell him yourself?” Ilene said. “Join us for dinner tonight. It was so pleasant the last time you ate with us.”

Zoe opened her mouth to refuse, then a sudden inspiration made her change her mind. “I will,” she said. “Thank you.”

Accordingly, in the hour between closing the shop and returning for dinner, she strolled through the Plaza of Women, looking for specific items. The first was a dramatic red tunic that fit snugly over her bosom and fell to her knees; gold embroidery around the hem and the neckline drew attention to her figure. The second was a gold clasp for her hair, and the third was a set of cosmetics that the vendor’s daughter agreed to apply for her, since Zoe still had few skills in that area.

Naturally she had to buy chocolate drops as well, since the last time they had all dined together, Barlow had liked them almost as much as his parents had.

She wanted Barlow to like her.

“Don’t you look pretty!” Ilene exclaimed when she admitted Zoe to the
kierten
.

“I probably spent too much, but I just couldn’t resist this tunic.”

“And a good thing you didn’t! It’s perfect for you.”

Soon enough, they were all seated around the table, handing around dishes and listening to Barlow talk. This time, Zoe thought, she was paying even more attention to Barlow’s words than his mother was, as she waited for him to drop information that she could use. She wasn’t too interested in his account of his recent trades, but when he started describing his upcoming journey, oh, she couldn’t hear enough about that.

“The northwest provinces seem so far away,” she said. “How long does it take to travel there?”

Barlow laughed. “Much less time than it used to! My partner and I just invested in one of those new
elaymotives
. You can hitch two carts to it—one to carry your merchandise and one to carry your own gear. When the weather’s good, you can cover the ground in almost half the time it used to take.”

“And when the weather’s bad?” Melvin asked.

“Well, then you slow down, just like everyone. You still have to be careful getting through the mud. You still have to clear away trees and branches in the road. You can’t ford a river any faster than the ferry runs. But on the open road—” Barlow held his hand out flat in front of him and then moved it through the air to indicate smooth and rapid progress. “Nothing slows you down. We’ll be at the headwaters of the Marisi in a nineday.”

“I didn’t know you had a partner,” Zoe said.

Barlow nodded. “We sell different products to different buyers, but we split travel expenses and earn a higher profit percentage. He won’t be ready to leave until the day after tomorrow, which is why I’m stuck here until then.”

“We’ll be glad of your company,” Ilene said.

“So it’s just the two of you traveling all that way?” Zoe asked.

Barlow’s face clouded over. “We used to bring Jaker’s nephew along until he took a job with a sheep farmer. It’s a help having a third person on the trip, because you have to leave someone behind with the merchandise. If it’s just the two of us, we have to take turns doing our business. You lose time. And the trade business is all about time.”

Zoe made her face laughing and her voice light. “I’d
love
to see the northern provinces! Too bad you can’t take
me
with you!”

Barlow’s eyes narrowed; he gave her one long, analytical look. Zoe had the thought that her careful choice of clothing and makeup had been wasted, and Ilene’s subtle matchmaking as well. He wasn’t looking at her as a prospective mate. He was trying to determine how hard she worked, how honest she was, how successful she might be at fending off thieves who tried to rob his wagons.

“And why
couldn’t
I take you with me?” he said slowly.

She pretended to be unnerved, at a loss, a woman who had not meant her little joke to be taken seriously. “Well, because I—I have a job and I—you’ll be gone so long and—”

“Two ninedays,” he said. “Three if the weather is impossible. That’s not so long.”

Zoe glanced nervously at Ilene, whose face was drawn into a frown of concentration; she was thinking hard. “But your mother and your father need me! I could never leave them so abruptly.”