Wild Magic

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Reyna tugged at the knob on his side of the panel to make sure Juvalgrim had turned the latch; sometimes he was careless about that. He started off through the inky blackness, one hand drifting along the wall of the passage. Ahead of him there was a scraping sound like a heel against stone. -•

He froze.

A click.

He held his breath.

Silence.

He ghosted along the passage, ears straining, one hand in front of him, the other drifting along the wall. Nothing.

There were other exits from this passage, his fingers read the wood as he went past them, read the accumulated grit and tickling cobwebs. If any of them had been opened, whoever it was left no sign of his passing, no disturbance to tell Reyna he wasn’t dreaming.

He went down and down through the complex of passages, wondering if he’d begun imagining enemies, afraid he hadn’t. If someone had been outside the panel listening to them…

He didn’t• want to think about that. Warn Ju tomorrow. All I can do.

The lantern that he’d left where the passage became a volcanic blowhole cast a welcome light in the darkness. He wound the wick a little higher and went along the branch that led up to the Sibyl’s cave. His feet knew the way’ well enough after so many years of traversing it, but there were too many offshoots for him to trust himself without light to see landmarks. Besides, there were bats in here and other things; he’d stepped on a poison lizard once when he was late and the lantern had burned dry, escaped by luck alone a bite that could have crippled him.

There was someone sitting in the Sibyl’s chair.

He blew out the lantern, tucked it into the crevice where he kept it between visits, loosened the rungo in its loops, the polished arm-length club he’d taken to carrying the past weeks.

Fan looked up as he came around the chair. “Loa, Rey.”

She wasn’t doing anything, just sitting, perhaps thinking. She was thin, and worn-looking, dark circles under her eyes…”Loa, Fa.” Then, because he couldn’t help it, he added, “You could smuggle saisais in those bags under your eyes.”

“I don’t sleep much these days,” she said. “Bad dreams. I Dance for Abeyhamal and… kill people. And the Low City folk, they want Blessings. All the time. As if some potzy word from me would make anything better.”

“Well, you should really be in bed, sleep or not, at least you could rest,” he said. “Come, I’ll walk back with you to the Wood Bridge.”

“Still protecting me, Mamay?” She laughed and stretched out her hand so he could pull her to her feet. As they strolled from the cavern, she said, “None of your Edgers would lay a finger on me, they’d be afraid of getting it burnt off.”

Reyna flipped a finger against her cheek. “Then you can protect me.”

Faan took his hand, squeezed it.

They walked together in companionable silence along the twisty trail, turned at the black ruin of the ancient olive and started down the Jiko Sagrada.

Near the last flight of stairs, Faan touched his ann. “You love him, don’t you. What’s it like, being in love with someone?”

Reyna was startled; he felt his face grow hot. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought to talk about with his daughter, but… He glanced down at her. She was staring at the Jiko as her feet kicked out against her skirt. What he could see of her face was intent and serious. “In love,” he said slowly. “Nayo, that’s not it, Fa. That’s pretty pink pleasures, sweat and sweet agony. I went through that a few times when I found my first clients.” He went down the stairs thinking about it, his hands clasped behind him under the cloak; without questioning it, he was suddenly very happy so it was almost a dance he was doing. “Nayo. This is different. Love? I don’t know. There’s friendship and fondness, oh diyo, and passion. It’s not bad, you know. It’s not bad, friendship and fondness and passion.”

“Does he love you?”

“It’s hard to say with Juvalgrim. He’s a secret man. He needs me. That’s enough, I think.”

“Need.” She shivered. “I hate that word.”

They turned down a kariam, walked in wary silence between the dark towers of the Cheoshim, past the burnt and blackened gardens of the Biasharim, stepped into the silent starlit Sok Circle.

Faan glanced at the flogging posts clustered dark and ominous in the middle of the Circle. Small bluish flames licked along her hand.

“Nayo, Fa. You’ll just make things worse.”

She looked down at the little fires; after a moment they vanished. “I know.”