Second Guard (20 page)

Tali’s father shrugged. “The family is in Porto Sol for now. The men have hired themselves out as dockhands until they’ve enough money for a new tradeboat,” he said
without meeting Tali’s eye.

“And how is trade?” Tali asked, hoping to squeeze some information out of her father.

Father Sanchez set his cup down firmly. “This is no night to talk business! Let us hear of your adventures! Tell us a tale of the Alcazar, or how you come to be at my table tonight, young
pledges!” he said, almost, Tali thought, too eagerly, as if trying to sway the conversation elsewhere. Her father loved to talk business more than anything else.

Tali had to sign a few parts of their salt mine adventures for Nel, who thought they must be teasing her at first when she read the words on their lips. After reminding them not to share the
story with others, lest the miners’ secrets spread throughout the realm by tradeboat, they had fun taking turns describing the terror of their madcap ride on the packhound cart.

“I always thought those packhounds were brute beasts, and not very smart,” Father Sanchez said as Nel poured him another cup of hot coffee.

“Quite the opposite,” Chey responded. “They’re among the most wise and tender of all animals.”

“Is that so?” Father Sanchez asked, spooning a large bite of pudding into his mouth and winking at Tali. He enjoyed getting a debate started, and Chey had done very little talking
that evening. “Can you give an example that might persuade me?”

“Well, if not for a packhound, I wouldn’t be sitting with you today,” said Chey, his face growing a bit flushed as all eyes turned upon him in surprise.

Nel’s face furrowed in concern, clearly sympathetic to the discomfort Chey felt at being the center of attention. He smiled at her and reached over to pat her hand.
All’s
well,
he signed to her, much to Tali’s amazement. How quickly her friend had scooped up words from their silent language. For a brief moment she felt an unfamiliar stab of jealousy,
watching her sister and friend share this bit of intimacy. Am I bothered because Chey’s so clearly fond of Nel? Or is it because Nel’s so clearly fond of him? she asked herself. Perhaps
both, she admitted, trying to enjoy their happiness rather than resent it.

“When I was little more than a baby,” Chey began, “I wandered too close to a raging creek near our farm and slipped in. Our family packhound pulled me from the cold water and
saved my life.”

“How frightening for your parents!” Tali’s father said. He rubbed his scruffy face, but not before Tali saw the pain flit it across it, the grief he could not conceal.

“Champion carried me back by my bottoms and dropped me at their feet,” Chey said, then took a long draw from his lemonsong. “From that day forward my parents let him sleep by
my side.”

Father Sanchez raised his cup. “I am persuaded. All hail the mighty packhound!”

“All hail!” the rest of them replied, raising their own cups and laughing.

“Have your people always been tradeboaters, Father Sanchez?” Zarif asked as the cheer died down.

“No, no,” Alondro replied, reaching over to pour himself more coffee from the steaming pot. “My father was a fisherman from Castille, my mother a seamstress.”

“And how did you come to Tequende?” Chey asked, surprising everyone by asking a question before Zarif did.

“I arrived as a babe in arms. My mother, you see, came into a small inheritance from a distant uncle. She thought to buy my father his own fishing boat with the money, but my father had a
different idea. He’d heard tell of a bountiful land where peace had reigned for centuries and people worshipped tranquil gods.”

“Tequende,” said Zarif, nodding his head. “My ancestors heard the same stories before they came here. They wanted to know if such a place truly existed.”

Alondro Sanchez smiled. “And so we’ve become a realm of peace lovers and curiosity seekers. Tequende has served us well.”

“Even so, it must be hard to leave one’s homeland behind,” said Chey.

“No, no. That was an easy choice,” Tali’s father said, smiling over the brim of his cup as he took a sip. “The Far World is a barbaric place, with war after war
destroying the land and her people. Sadly, even much of the Nigh World is consumed by violence and discord now. Tequende is one of the last sanctuaries on earth, and though our Queens demand a
great tax from us, we do not complain, especially those who have suffered much worse outside these mountain walls.”

“What do you mean by a great tax?” Chey asked, popping one last chocolate-covered pecan into his mouth.

“Why, three of them sit before me,” Alondro said. “It is no small thing to give up one’s child in service to the realm for so many years.”

“But we gladly serve the Queen and her realm,” Tali answered, surprised by her father’s words. Never had she thought of her service as a tax before.

“It makes it no less a sacrifice,
m’ija
,” he answered, patting her knee. “Your sister and I miss you fiercely.”

Nel nodded at Tali in agreement, then quickly signed,
To the roof?

Yes,
Tali signed, then turned to the men. “Nel and I need to finish the lanterns before the festival begins,” she said. “Will you excuse us, please?”

“Of course,” said her father. “You girls be off while these young men and I make quick work of this mess,” he said, collecting plates from the table.

Tali and Nel clambered up the ladder onto the roof, where Nel had neatly stacked a dozen paper lanterns.

“Finally we can talk,” Tali mouthed to Nel without making a sound. Nel nodded in response.

“First, you must tell me what happened in Porto Sol…why you disappeared so suddenly.”

Saw guard who frightened me,
Nel said with her fingers.

“The centurio in the plaza?” Tali asked, her mind racing in a million directions as Nel nodded. So Chey had been right. It
was
Jaden who had scared Nel away. Were the rumors
true, then? “But why, Nel? How do you know him? Why did he frighten you?”

It took some time for Tali to understand all that Nel told her, and several times she asked for things to be repeated, but finally, the story unraveled. For several months now, Tali’s
father, along with several other traders, had been forced to transport bags of salt to a certain warehouse in Porto Sol, rather than their usual markets. The bags had been stamped with the
Queen’s mark, XXII, which meant that they were not to be opened or tampered with in any way. These traders were constantly being watched by members of the Second Guard, to ensure their
compliance.

Tali frowned. “Well, it is hard to understand, but the Queen must have her reasons, Nel. In any case, there’s no reason to distrust the Guard—”

Nel held up a hand to interrupt Tali and began to sign again.
Paulo’s family defied orders. Guards burned boat as punishment. Other traders are in danger.

Tali shook her head in angry denial. “That can’t be true, Nel,” she said. “You’re asking me to believe that the Second Guard would hurt the people of Tequende
rather than protect them! And Jaden, the centurio in the plaza…he is one of those guards you have seen?”

It is so, sister,
Nel said, her fingers flying.
Paulo has shown me much.

“Are you certain that Paulo is not just bitter about the loss of his family’s trade? Perhaps he is concocting treachery rather than recognizing tragedy, sister.”

Paulo speaks true. Father stays quiet, does as they ask, to keep us safe. At night he prays to Intiq for peace. But Paulo stays in Porto Sol not only for work as Father says, but to keep
close to the Alcazar so he can watch the Guard. He and others mean to fight back. Father does not speak to them anymore. He is scared for you.

Just then the men climbed up from the deck below, laughing over some joke. Tali tried to wipe the shock from her face, grateful for the temporary aid of darkness. Now that the sun had gone to
bed, Zipa would soon be afire under thousands of night lanterns. Nel grabbed the lanterns she had constructed from river reeds and white fabric, and handed them to Tali, who used a wax candle to
fire the wicks. Finally, Father Sanchez attached each lantern to a long, thin pole, at least triple his own height, and handed them out.

“Praise Intiq, the Sun God, for his light and warmth by day,” murmured the Sanchez family, as they raised their lanterns high.

“Praise Elia, the Moon Goddess, for her light and watch by night,” said Zarif, completing the traditional blessing.

Chey, who had been silent, now cleared his throat and said softly, “The original blessing does not end there.”

The others looked at him quizzically.

“How does it end, Chey?” asked Tali.

Chey raised his lantern. “Praise Machué, Mother Earth, who birthed the sun and moon. May her children not forsake her.”

As they all raised their lanterns in response, Tali marveled at the night sky, now filled with lanterns up and down the Zipaqui, forming a river of light. When she and Nel were little, they used
to make a secret wish on this night, once all the lanterns were lit. May this night never end, Tali thought, her heart aching for a time when she had still believed in wishes.

T
he journey back to the Alcazar seemed even speedier than their journey to Zipa the day before. Tali tried to see more of the mines this time by
forcing her eyes open instead of squeezing them tight, and she found herself actually laughing aloud as the packhounds raced through the dim tunnels. Tali felt as if she was inside someone
else’s dream life instead of her real one, which she was more than happy to leave behind for a time. It was also good to be in the company of Ory once more. When they finally parted at
journey’s end, Tali was surprised to find herself wrapped in a quick, tight hug from the boy, who slipped a small gift into her hand. She smiled and kissed the top of his head, breathing in
the fresh scent of mint soap from his hair, and they both made promises to meet again one day.

After the trio pulled themselves out of the tunnel, through the storerooms and kitchens, they headed straight for Saavedra’s cottage. Tali had told the boys of Nel’s troubling news
during their walk back to the salt mines in the moments before dawn. All three agreed that Saavedra would be the best person to help them decide what to do next.

As they climbed the many stairs to the roof, Tali could not believe how different she felt from only a few days before. Her whole view of the world had changed overnight. The news from Nel had
forced her to question everything she knew and held sacred: her pledge to the Second Guard, her loyalty to its leaders, her faith in the Queen herself.
What is true if everything I’ve
been taught to believe is false?
And how much did her father know? Tali thought back to their tender good-bye that morning. How long ago it seemed suddenly, seasons ago, at least. Tali felt as
if she carried a heavy stone in a pack as she trudged up the stairs.

When Saavedra opened his door and welcomed them, however, her heart lifted in the fading light. The old pigeon-keep had a way of making even the worst days seem brighter.

“My young friends! You have returned from Zipa!” He ushered in the trio and they fell into their usual spots: Tali in the warm chair with the wool blanket, Zarif nearest the
bookshelves, and Chey by the door. Saavedra busied himself making tea while the three settled down. Tali let the warm, safe feeling of the cottage sink into her bones and the days of travel and
worry slip away.