Chapter Three

Tanitha remained where she was for several long moments after the demon vanished. The sun baked down on the back of her neck, and beads of sweat collected on her forehead. She stayed perfectly still, the courtyard's flagstones hard and hot against her knees even through her long tunic. She barely dared to breathe. If she let herself think on it, it was astonishing that she even could still breathe. Demons were not known for their mercy, or their tolerance of mistakes.

A sparrow fluttered down to land on the flagstone beside her, then hopped closer, looking up at her with a quick, inquisitive head tilt. Another soon joined it, and another. Within a few minutes, the regular sounds of their chirping and fluttering wings had filled the courtyard once more. Only then did Tanitha allow herself to sit upright. Her pale golden hair flowed around her shoulders with the motion.

Though the danger had clearly passed, she still had to work to calm her racing heart. She rubbed her upper arm. Gods, striking one of the city's rulers? It had been an honest mistake, a reflexive protection of the sparrows against a hawk's predation, but from the stories she'd heard, that meant nothing. The demon lord— she assumed it had been a lord, since the lion form it had taken had been male— would have been within his legal rights to kill her for the assault.

She stood, though her legs trembled slightly beneath her. Perhaps he had simply decided that she wasn't worth the effort. If that was the case, she had to keep her mouth firmly closed about the incident. Letting it be known that she'd gotten away with such an action would be an excellent way to ensure that she suddenly was worth the effort.

She looked around the courtyard again. The little desert sparrows had returned to searching the cracks between flagstones for grain, seeming completely unperturbed. And then there was the other matter— the birds' behavior. Flying toward a threat? All at once?

She hadn't made them do that, had she?

She reminded herself to breathe. It was a disconcerting thought. Hiding the ability to soul-speak was illegal— anyone who retained elemental magic abilities into adulthood was automatically conscripted into the service of the Ivory Throne— and so she'd taken great care never to display the skill. She hadn't used it in nearly two decades, and up until several minutes before, she'd assumed that the ability had faded, as it did with most people. Did she still have it? Was it even possible she'd used it by accident? That she'd been frightened enough to instinctively bring the birds' desires into resonance with her own, driving them to protect her?

Slowly, she shook her head at herself. A demon would have sensed all but the most subtle uses of elemental magic. The demon, whoever he was, would have taken her setting the sparrows on him to be a clear and deliberate attack, ineffectual though it might have been. There was absolutely no way she would still be alive in that case. Strange though the birds' behavior was, it had been their own behavior. Her secret was safe.

She set her shoulders back, looking around once more. The sparrows were still returning to the courtyard in twos and threes, returning to their hunt for grains and insects. It all seemed so commonplace that she could almost believe that she'd imagined the entire incident.

Almost.

She turned to the back wall of the dovecote. It was about twelve feet tall and covered in white plaster that had been sculpted in a honeycomb pattern to encourage nesting— desert sparrows were considered lucky, heralds of good tidings, so it was common in Karazhen to try to attract them, especially near message centers. Superstition, maybe, but the Sanctuary's dovecote was a large one. In Tanitha's opinion, the volume of messages it handled and the importance of their implications meant that anything that could curry good fortune was well worth cultivating.

She crossed the courtyard to the sun-bleached wooden door, pulling it open to step inside the cote, then quickly shut it behind her. The air was still, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust after the brightness of the courtyard. The only light came from a small oil lamp and what little sun filtered in through the slats of the door and window shutters. Some of the doves chirruped and cooed at her entry, bobbing their heads from their perches behind thin-barred cage doors.

Tanitha looked around, glad to see that none of the birds appeared agitated or distressed— they likely hadn't been able to see the incident in the courtyard— then turned to a small alcove where a writing desk was nestled. The oil lamp flickered slightly, and she crossed to it, checking the wick's length and the level of the oil. This done, she pulled back the stool to sit at the desk. Carefully, she looked over her logs. She'd stored the original messages— tiny scrolls bearing just a few words each, light enough for pigeons to carry— in cubbies over the desk according to category, but her notes made it easier to see and understand patterns. It was a good thing that she'd already recorded everything from the messages that had arrived that morning, she thought, looking down; although she'd thought she'd recovered from her earlier fright, her hands still had residual tremors running through them. She rested them atop the desk, trying to ground herself. She was safe.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again and began counting her tallied records of the messages that had come in that day. Twelve were promises of offerings to be given at the Awakening. Of those, half were from owners of vineyards and olive groves, three were from shipyards and shipwrights, two from families that had built their wealth on wool, and one was from the silversmith's guild. She'd been receiving similar messages for weeks now, summarizing and relaying them to Ivathi Yarun, one of the Sanctuary's authorities, and high priest of the One Who Sleeps.

Some might have viewed this as little more than accounting, but much of her value in this role had to do with the fact that she could see more than that. Minimum tithes were set by law, dictated for the support of the Sanctuary and the foundlings that it sheltered and placed, so there was little to glean there. Additional offerings, however, when seen across entire industries or sections of the population, told stories. Stories about the city, stories about its people. Their petitions to the gods told of their struggles, of the patterns and factors shaping their lives. The Sanctuary and its temples were ideally positioned to see the first ripples of the impact of far-off problems, and she knew that this information— in tandem with the sometimes hazy and tangled visions of the city's oracles— was often used to head those problems off at the pass.

Not that she'd be spotting any patterns today, she thought, glancing again at her hands, which still didn't feel steady enough to hold a stylus. She gave a rueful grimace; it never ceased to amaze her that no matter how convincingly someone lied to themselves about how they were feeling, the body would betray the truth. Much as she might like to think that she was imperturbable, she was rattled. The city's rulers— the demons— were good at what they did, and the Shadowborn City prospered because of it. But that didn't mean any human with the smallest bit of sense wanted to come face to face with one of them.

Fortunately, she knew that any patterns she might see would be clearer over the next few days anyway, so there was no need to force herself into trying to do much more today. She contented herself with counting and recounting her tallies from the previous few days, taking some comfort in the ability to assign numbers and order to the world. It was just make-work, perhaps, but it did do something to calm herself. When her replacement finally arrived about an hour later, Tanitha left soon after, managing to make a quick escape without betraying that she had any reason to be upset.

And actually, as she walked through the Sanctuary compound's streets, passing by acolytes, priests, and the hundreds of other people that contributed to the continued operation of this place, she found that she was regaining her equilibrium. The Sanctuary was exactly that to her, and had been since she'd been a small child. She was safe.

She didn't realize that she'd made a detour from her way home until she found herself at the reflection pool that lay behind the female acolytes' quarters. It was a peaceful place; the water was kept perfectly motionless with the use of elemental magic that stilled even the ripples of the wind, creating a surface as smooth as glass. It was ringed by trees, the ground around it covered in low-growing grasses and herbs. Tanitha had been brought here often as a child to do meditation exercises, so perhaps it wasn't surprising that her feet had led her here.

She found an area carpeted in flowering thyme, the herb's warm and spicy scent rising up around her as she settled down to sit. She bit her lip, thinking, then closed her eyes. The issue preying on her mind was well-settled, at least as far as the city's elementalist mages were concerned. But that didn't mean she couldn't check.

Eyes still closed, she took a slow breath, reaching out with senses that she couldn't truly name. A chill ran over her, and she opened her eyes again quickly, retracting her awareness back into herself. She hadn't checked that in years— hadn't wanted to check that in years— but yes, she could still sense the presence of elemental magic. She swallowed. Ashen Halls, she thought, rubbing her arms against a chill. The sense of it was weak, but it wasn't gone.

It was entirely possible that she could still soul-speak.

She gave herself a little shake. She wasn't in trouble. She hadn't used the ability today, and she never would, so there was no risk of being caught at it. There was nothing wrong with having the ability itself— on the contrary, it was highly sought-after. But she'd hidden it as a child, not wanting to be pressed into service in a way that would mean being separated from her sister, and doing that was illegal. She had demonstrated the other basic elemental abilities she'd possessed when she was young, knowing that having them made her more valuable— a concept that, as a foundling, she'd come to a keen awareness of early on. But those tangential abilities had faded down to almost nothing. It was incredibly common for that to happen; magic was strongest in those whose souls were closest to the Land of Ash, which most often meant that the very young and the very old had best access to it. There were exceptions, of course. Some people's souls were more tightly woven with the fabric of the world, and those people could draw on the power that came through the Elemental Rifts throughout their entire lives.

Tanitha had all but discounted the possibility that she might still be one of them.

Again though, did it matter? The risk of being caught was infinitesimally small. No one was going to find out that she'd illegally hidden the ability, she wasn't going to be conscripted, and she wasn't going to lose the small but safe corner of the world that she'd claimed as her home.

"Tanitha!" Jolted from her thoughts, Tanitha looked up to see Lithra— her sister by bond if not by blood— stepping from the east-west path onto the grassy area surrounding the pool to cross to Tanitha.

Her breathing slightly heavy, Lithra dropped down beside her on the thyme.

"I've been looking for you for hours," she said. Tanitha quirked an eyebrow. Lithra knew where she worked, and Tanitha had been gone from there for less than an hour now. Even if they'd just missed each other and Lithra had been searching for her since the moment after she left the dovecote, hours was certainly an overstatement.

"All right, fine," Lithra said to Tanitha's wordless skepticism. "Perhaps it only felt like hours." She tossed her honey-colored hair over her shoulder. "Are you coming to the harbor festival tonight?"

Tanitha's brow furrowed. "You've been searching for me to ask if I'm planning to come to the festival?" She wasn't certain why that couldn't have waited until she got home.

Lithra made a face. "No, I came searching because a messenger arrived at our quarters. I'm asking about the festival because I saw you sitting here alone again, which reminded me that you've been avoiding anything resembling socializing for over two years now, which then reminded me that tonight I have an opportunity to help you break that habit."

Tanitha made a neutral noise. In truth, she wasn't actively avoiding social gatherings; she simply didn't see very much reason to seek them out. She did avoid leaving the Sanctuary if she could, though. The harbor might be the pride of the city, but it was loud and chaotic, and a massive celebration over the seasonal return of the most sought-after schools of fish wasn't going to improve matters on that front.

"A messenger?" she asked, keen to bypass discussing the other matter; it was an oft-repeated debate between them. "For me?"

"Yes, a summons for early this evening," said Lithra with a quick flutter of one hand. "I don't imagine it will take long, though, whatever it is, and then you can come to the festival. We can get fried bluefin; I know you miss it in the winter."

"A summons?" Tanitha asked, determined to keep Lithra on the matter at hand, though the prospect of fresh-caught bluefin was admittedly tempting. "Who sent it?"

Lithra gave a small smile edged with affectionate mischief, her dark blue eyes sparkling. "I suppose I could tell you, if you promise to come tonight."

"Lithra!"

"Come on," Lithra wheedled. "I can introduce you to some people from outside the Sanctuary. You don't need to limit yourself to acolytes and priests." She cast a glance toward the temple behind them. "They're all stuffy and think they're much cleverer than they really are, anyway. I don't think half of them even understand the scrolls they're pretending to discuss. You can do better."

Tanitha gave a light laugh, trying to cover her discomfort. Lithra never seemed to believe Tanitha when she said she wasn't looking for romantic attachment, but perhaps that was to be expected when Tanitha had never told her why she'd broken off the nearest she'd ever come to that sort of relationship two years previous. Most likely she never would, since speaking about why she'd done that would mean admitting to worrying about something that was, by her own standards, ridiculous.

"I'm safe from the priests and acolytes, so don't you worry about that," she said with a smile.

"Why?" Lithra asked. "Do you think they'll cast omen-bones and run away in terror when they see that one day you'll lose your looks?" She gave Tanitha an affectionate shove.

Tanitha rolled her eyes, but in truth, the mention of omens on this subject left her deeply unnerved, bringing up a memory of an old woman's laughter and the taunting hint of things to come. She tore her thoughts from that.

A beggar woman's madness and a child's imagination , she told herself firmly, as she always did. She and Lithra were foundlings, both rescued from the streets of a city in nearby Sabria when they were too young for Lithra to have more than scattered memories of that time. Tanitha could remember more of it than she liked, though, and there was no doubt she'd seen more than her fair share of madness and pain in that time.

She turned back to Lithra. "Who are you accompanying to the festival, then?" she asked, knowing she'd make little headway on the matter of the messenger and summons until Lithra was satisfied on this subject.

Lithra's cheeks colored slightly. "Well… no one yet. But there's a girl who works a stall at the outer market. Her father's connected with one of the olive orchards somehow, I think, and she's been selling off some of last year's stock. Young men are always trying to catch her attention and she gives them even less of it than you do, so I was wondering…"

Tanitha leaned back, propping herself up on one arm as she regarded Lithra with skepticism. Lithra was the sort of girl who felt attachments very deeply, holding those around her close, but her apparent ability to fall in love without a second's notice had always perplexed Tanitha. Even if she was perhaps a bit envious of the freedom Lithra had to do so.

"I don't suppose you've even spoken with this girl?" she asked. Lovelorn or not, Lithra was also very shy around new people.

"I have," Lithra said defensively. "Today. She's very sweet."

"Oh?" Tanitha asked, stifling a smile. "And how many urns of olive oil am I going to find in our quarters when I go back there?"

Lithra blushed deeper. "Well, I had to have a reason to talk to her, didn't I? All right, yes, I bought more than I should have, but we needed something to offer up for the Awakening anyway."

"That's weeks away," said Tanitha, trying to look stern, though she felt the edge of her smile slipping through regardless.

"It'll keep until then," Lithra said. Her blush hadn't faded. "She really was very kind. I think she'll be easy to talk to. But… well, you know, people always seem at ease around you, so I hoped that if I asked her to the festival, you might come along for the first bit, and if things seem to be going well, perhaps you could… you know, find yourself occupied with someone else?"

Tanitha would be far more inclined to find herself occupied with sweet wine and heavily seasoned fish, she knew, but she'd never get past this point in the discussion if she brought that up. "All right," she said, feigning immense reluctance. "I'll come."

Lithra grinned. "Thank you, Tanitha," she said, giving Tanitha's hand a squeeze.

Tanitha pulled away, feigning sternness as she folded her arms. "You said something about a summons?" she said.

" Ivathi Yarun," Lithra said promptly. Tanitha blinked, surprised. "He'd like to speak with you before sunset. That was all the message said."

Tanitha glanced at the sun, getting quickly to her feet. The smell of thyme on the air burst in strength with her movement. It was late afternoon, the day well on its way to evening already.

"I'll need to move quickly, then. The message didn't say what this was about?" she asked, glancing at Lithra.

Lithra shrugged, rising as well. "They're probably going to ask you to take some extra duties preparing for the Awakening," she said.

Tanitha sent her a look. "I don't suppose you've been given any extra?" she asked. It wasn't as if the Awakening meant any change in the number of women seeking a midwife's attention, let alone an assistant midwife.

"Not yet, but I expect to spend a lot of time on my hands and knees scrubbing in the week leading up to it," Lithra said mournfully. "The priestesses think that purification of body and mind is worthless if your surroundings don't shine to match."

Tanitha chuckled. "Well, I don't imagine it hurts the women in your care for things to be clean."

"It's always clean!" Lithra protested. "I don't think it's unreasonable to think that floors only need to be clean enough to walk on, though, not eat off of!"

Tanitha grinned. Tradition mandated that on the day that the One Who Sleeps awakened each year, the city should be a place of purity and order. Tanitha herself thought that was a lot to ask of any city, although to be fair, Karazhen was skillfully administered and certainly less prone to squalor than the only other one she'd ever known. A slight chill ran over her at the recollection, though she shook it off easily enough. She was long past the point of letting childhood terrors affect her waking hours.

"I'm looking forward to meeting this market girl of yours," she said, giving Lithra's hand an affectionate squeeze. "I'll see you after I'm done speaking with Ivathi Yarun."