Spiritwalker 3: Cold Steel (3 page)

I dodged past the lad who with pole and ladder was lighting the courtyard’s gas lamps.
With a shake of my head, I set a tray of empty mugs on the bar as I made a grimace
at Uncle Joe. After the dream I had just had, I did not want anyone to begin reflecting
on the part I had played in halting the Taino invasion of Expedition Territory. He
nodded to show he understood, then turned to draw a pitcher of ale from a barrel to
refill the mugs.

Between one breath and the next, the lively rattle of conversation ceased. The courtyard
fell silent. I had my back to the gate. As Uncle Joe turned with the full pitcher,
glancing past me, his gaze widened. He reached under the counter and set his machete
next to my tray.

He had done the same in my dream, only my sword was looped to a cord around my hips.
The blade of his machete caught a glimmer of gaslight that carved a shimmering line
along its length.

I swung around.

Prince Caonabo stood in the open gate, surrounded by attendants and soldiers.

Just as he had in my dream.

All eyes—and it was crowded tonight—shifted from the newcomers to me, and back to
the prince’s retinue. Aunty Djeneba had been cooking cassava bread on a griddle in
the open-air kitchen. She stepped back from the hearth to examine the interlopers.
As the thin bread began to crisp, I could not rip my gaze from its blackening edges.
The smell of its burning seemed to come right out of the dream I’d had, the way fire
had caught in my flesh. Had Prince Caonabo come to kill me?

Was this what it meant to walk the dreams of dragons? Had I dreamed the dream meant
for Bee because we were holding hands as we napped and her dreams had bled into mine?
Or had I simply been waiting for this meeting, knowing the Taino would not let the
death of their queen pass without a response?

Aunty realized the bread was burning, flipped the flat round onto the dirt, and gestured
for one of her granddaughters to take over. After wiping her hands on her apron, she
walked to the gate. She looked majestic with her hair covered in a vividly orange
head wrap. Her height, stout build, and confident manner made her a formidable presence.

“Prince Caonabo,” she said, not that she had ever met him before, but there could
only be one Taino prince in the city of Expedition. “To see one such as yee here at
me gate is truly unexpected.”

One of the prince’s attendants answered in his stead, for like any lofty nobleman,
Caonabo did not need to speak for himself. “His Good Highness has come to this establishment
to find a witch.”

Most of our customers looked at me. I dressed in the local style so as not to draw
attention to myself, but the days when I could hope to
be just another maku girl making a living after being washed ashore in Expedition
were irrevocably over.

Aunty stiffened. “We shelter no witch in me respectable house, nor have we ever, I
shall thank yee to know. Nor need we answer to the prince, however good and high as
he may be. Expedition remain a free territory. Yee Taino don’ rule us.”

The attendant blew a sharp whistle. Taino soldiers swarmed into the courtyard from
the street, rifles and ceremonial spears at the ready, but the prince raised a hand
to forestall any action.

“This afternoon I have spoken to the provisional Assembly,” the prince said with the
precision of an intelligent man who has learned through countless hours of intense
study to speak a language foreign to him. “We have completed our discussions and renewed
the treaty between the Taino kingdom and Expedition Territory. One matter remains
before I can leave Expedition.”

“What matter might that be, that yee trouble us while we partake of food and drink?”

Aunty still held the paddle she used on the cassava bread, and she had the stance
of a woman ready to smack him with it right on his proud, highborn face if he didn’t
give her a polite answer.

His attendants looked comically startled that a common Expeditioner would speak to
a noble prince in such a bold and disrespectful manner, but Prince Caonabo himself
appeared neither offended nor taken aback. He seemed like a man who knew his place
in the world but didn’t need you to know it because it didn’t matter if you did. And
it didn’t matter. In this part of the world, in the Sea of Antilles, he was among
the most powerful men alive.

“Catherine Bell Barahal has been accused in the council hall of Expedition of being
responsible for the death of the honorable and most wise cacica, what you call a queen,
she with the name Anacaona. As Queen Anacaona’s only surviving son, and as heir to
her brother, the cacique, I am required to pursue justice in this matter.”

Because it would be cowardly not to acknowledge him, I met his gaze with my own.

“I would like to know who made that accusation,” I said.

“I made the accusation.”

Customers got up and, with awkward goodbyes, hurried out the gate.

Uncle Joe muttered under his breath, “Cat, step back here behind the counter. Then
yee can make a run out the back.”

“No,” I whispered. “I’ll bring no trouble down on you after everything you’ve done
for me. But please send one of the lads out to make sure Rory does not come back here
until the prince is gone. Send him to Kofi’s house.”

I took in a breath to fortify myself, grabbed a dram of rum, caught Uncle Joe’s warning
gesture, and set down the rum without drinking. I drained a cup of guava juice instead,
for my mouth had gone quite dry. Then I walked to the gate to face my accuser.

“Salve, Your Highness,” I said respectfully. I wasn’t sure what to make of Prince
Caonabo. Despite his accusation, he did not glare at me in a hostile way. Instead,
he acknowledged me with a lift of the hand.

“Salve, Perdita,” he answered, calling me
lost woman
. That was the name I had been given on the day three months ago when he and other
fire mages had discovered me washed up and half-drowned on the shore of Salt Island,
a quarantine island I should never have set foot on and hoped never to see again.
“You recovered your sword.”

“So I did.” To all other eyes, my sword appeared as a black cane, but fire mages and
the feathered people we called trolls saw it for what it was: a blade of magically
forged steel. At night I could draw the blade out of the spirit world, but during
the day it was just a cane unless woken by cold magic. “Your Highness, Expedition
is a free territory. It is not ruled by the Taino, nor by Taino law.”

“Expedition Territory exists as a free territory within the Taino kingdom only because
the captains of the first fleet that arrived here from Africa and Europa sealed a
treaty with my ancestors. One of the conditions written into the First Treaty was
the establishment of quarantine islands against the diseases brought across the ocean.
Another condition was the right of accusation. Should a person residing in Expedition
Territory commit a criminal act against any Taino, the Taino have the right to demand
justice. As the accuser, I am allowed to take you into my custody and deliver you
to Expedition’s Council
Hall. There you will be taken before a standing inquiry on the charge of murder.”

Around us the courtyard lay still and silent. A sound of lively laughter and talk
drifted from nearby households. Resonant drumming pulsed from farther afield, signaling
a victory dance at the local ballcourt for the batey match that had been completed
with the dusk. Three days ago there could have been no batey match, no dance, no drumming,
for the entire city had been under occupation by the Taino army.

I lifted my chin. “Queen Anacaona led an invasion of Expedition. An invasion is an
act of war.”

“The honored cacica’s action was not an act of war. Disease hit our people hard when
the maku first came across the ocean from the east. Other nations suffered worse than
ours because our
behiques
were wise enough to place a fence of quarantine around our islands. So you see, the
First Treaty explicitly gives the Taino the legal right to act if any quarantine is
broken. As you broke it, by escaping from Salt Island.”

“What if I refuse to come with you?” I asked.

He had the look of a man accustomed to gazing at the stars as he attempts to fathom
heavenly secrets. He did not look like an enraged kinsman trying to determine if a
perfectly well-brought-up and inoffensive young woman has been party to a murder.
“I seek justice, not revenge, Maestra Barahal. Duty binds me. I honor my mother as
a dutiful son must. Even so, I offer you the protection of the law. If you do not
come with me, I cannot answer for what might happen, for it has come to my attention
that you have enemies who wish you ill and might use your refusal as an excuse to
act against you.”

“Who would those enemies be?”

He raised a hand, palm up. A tiny flame rose from the center of his palm. A glow brushed
along the skin of the prince’s two attendants. Both were acting as catch-fires for
his fire magic. The greatest danger to a fire mage was that the backlash of power
would consume her, as fire consumes any combustible substance. In Europa there were
no catch-fires. Fire mages either became blacksmiths and were inducted into the mysteries
of that extended clan, or they died young in sudden and horrible conflagrations. The
Taino had learned to protect fire mages with catch-fires.

“I think you know who they are,” he replied. “Fire in the wrong hands is a reckless
weapon that destroys. In the hands of responsible people, fire heals. It can also
offer a means to restrain the hearts of malevolent persons who disrupt the harmonious
balance of society. The punishment for murder is that you lose the privilege to walk
freely in a peaceful society and must serve it instead. That is why murderers are
required to work in the cane fields, or to become catch-fires.”

A shiver of doubt crept its icy fingers down my spine. I felt it wisest to say nothing.

The prince curled his hand into a fist, dousing the flame. “Catherine Bell Barahal,
upon my authority as heir to the Taino kingdom, and with the permission of the provisional
Assembly that rules Expedition Territory, I place you under arrest for the murder
of the cacica, Anacaona.”

I found a bland smile in my store of weapons, and I brandished it. “I’ll go quietly
with you, Prince Caonabo, under this condition. Promise on your honor as prince and
future cacique of the Taino that you, and any and all of your court and subjects and
hirelings, will not harm, persecute, or arrest any person living in this household
now or ever. The people living here must never face retaliation for having sheltered
me.”

He gave my words thoughtful consideration. “On the honor of my ancestors and on the
honor of my own person, I give my word that I and all those who are subject to my
authority will not now or ever harm, persecute, or arrest any person living in this
household.”

“Give me a moment, if you please.”

I walked over to the kitchen shelter. Aunty had already sent the children into one
of the rooms to get them out of the way.

“Aunty, can you quickly put together a satchel of food for me? My skirt and jacket,
from my room. And the cloth sleeve for my cane.”

Aunty called over her daughter Brenna and gave her instructions, then took hold of
my arm. “Do the prince mean to see yee brought to trial even though he is married
to yee own cousin?”

“I’m not sure what to think. Please let Bee and Rory know what’s happened.”

Uncle Joe stepped in under the kitchen roof. His glare was enough to make my eyes
water, since I knew he was upset because he cared
for me. “Cat, what arseness is this yee’s playing at? I reckon the new Assembly ought
better protect a gal who cut off the head of the Taino invasion.”

“Do the Taino have the legal right to invade, according to the terms of the First
Treaty? Because of the broken quarantine?”

“Lawyers might say so. That was a long time ago.”

“That it was a long time ago doesn’t change the law. I’ve extracted a promise from
the prince that he will never harass or harm anyone who lives here.”

Uncle Joe’s grip was hard, and yet because it was so, I felt heartened. “Don’ forget,
gal, that in the eyes of many folk here in Expedition, ’twas the death of the cacica
that freed us from the old Council’s unjust rule. When she died and the Taino had
to withdraw, that was when the Assemblymen had a chance to overthrow the Council and
change the government of Expedition.”

“Yee shall find people aplenty in Expedition these days who shall fight to keep yee
safe, gal,” said Aunty. “Don’ think otherwise.”

“Believe me, I won’t let them kill me.”

Uncle frowned. “The Taino rule the Sea of Antilles. Don’ make the mistake of thinking
them weak. Their behiques is the most powerful of all. I reckon yee don’ truly understand
how far the power of Taino fire mages can reach.”

“I have my own secrets. Anyway, I can’t die, for if I did, then who would rescue Vai?”
Overwhelmed by longing for the home I had so unexpectedly found at the boardinghouse,
I kissed her smooth cheek and his rough one. “But I don’t know what will happen after.”

Uncle Joe sighed. “I shall fetch yee some provision.” He went back to the counter
and returned with two flasks, one filled with ginger beer and one with rum.

Aunty looked through the satchel prepared for me with flat rounds of cassava bread,
unpeeled guava, jerked chicken, and a gourd filled with rice and peas. “Come back
to us if yee can.”

I slid my ghost-sword into a sleeve of cloth to hide it from trolls and fire mages,
made my farewells, and joined the prince at the gate.

Caonabo indicated a low-slung carriage waiting on the street. I climbed to the back
bench seat, which was shaded by a hood but open to the air. Prince Caonabo sat on
the facing seat.

The carriage rolled down a street illuminated by gaslight. Hooves clopped on cobblestones.