Diamondsong 02: Capture Page 2

  Dime cringed. Certainly upbringing impacted behavior, but when pre-judged by class, it sounded like a Sol’s Pillars speech. She knew Ella was speaking satirically, but her words were uncomfortable to hear. “We’ll see what the Seats think of my upbringing,” she quipped, mostly out of unease.

  Ella stopped in place, the dishcloth in her hand. Her lips tightened, and if she was going to say something, she didn’t. But now she had Dime thinking. What would the Seats do? What would Dime do?

  “I wish I knew what problem I was trying to solve.” The words fell from her mouth, as if she’d been holding them there a while. “I’m going to Pito to find out why the Fo-ror wanted me—and why now.” She left out and why someone cut off my wings as an infant, a crime whose magnitude had only been growing in her mind. “But if Sol’s Pillars are rallying in Lodon, maybe the problem is in Lodon. Maybe this isn’t just about me.”

  “Heh,” Ella grunted, draping the cloth over a bar. “Being forced into the middle of something doesn’t make it about you.”

  Sometimes Dime had a retort for Ella’s comments, but that one actually struck her. Events couldn’t be separated from the pyrsi who lived through them. It was about her now, even if it was about others as well. She felt like Ella would understand that.

  “Ok,” Dime tried again, “whatever’s going on in Lodon, it’s because the fairies showed up there. And the fairies showed up there, for some reason, because of me.” The fact that it was Dime they’d tried to find was why she pyrsonally needed to find the High Seats and confront him. “It’s all connected.”

  “Feels that way,” Ella said with a shrug. “But you do know you’re attempting to waltz in on the most powerful Fo-ror, the one who tried to capture you? I mean, I’m just checking.”

  Did Ella think Dime hadn’t thought this through a thousand times over the past two days and nights? “Sure, I’m going to where he wanted me in the first place, but I’m going on my terms. Not his. That’s different. Second, maybe he’s not the most powerful Fo-ror.”

  “Oooh,” Ella teased.

  “Not me. Suzanne.”

  “What?” Ella’s face froze, and Dime worried she’d gone too far.

  “Suzanne. If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be here with the knowledge that you have. You wouldn’t have found me or stopped me back at Lodon. You wouldn’t have told me things I’ll need to know and given me things I’ll need. I don’t know what I can do, but if I can do anything, it’ll be because of Suzanne. Because she chose her own path.”

  “I need some kindling,” Ella mumbled, grabbing a curved wood staff and starting down the tower’s spiral staircase without another look.

  Well, it was true. Ella and Suzanne, living here together, not caring that the world said they couldn’t . . . it moved Dime. If they could be bold, Dime could as well.

  And that included the fact that she was not a Fo-ror, or at least not just one. She didn’t know what she was, but she had grown up among the Ja-lal. She knew them. She loved them. She’d married one. Her children were Ja-lal. Her life was Ja-lal. Maybe she was more than she’d realized, but no one was going to define her by what parts or abilities she had or didn’t have.

  Dime was defined by who she was.

  Sipping her brew, Dime walked back over to Friend’s window. She’d grown attached to the spiky plant, and now that she considered it, she’d never seen one similar. Friend’s needles were not sharp like many in the surrounding woods, but plump, rounded at the ends. It didn’t literally respond to her, but she felt an energy from it, as though it did.

  A small glass contraption protruded from the soil at one end. She’d seen them in midcity shops. A bulb held extra water, so if Ella left for a while, Friend would have a few turns of wet soil.

  Noticing her wrist compass as she ran her hand over the plant, she inspected the little metal needle. It had seemed to stop working when she was staying with the newts in what they called the Beds, but now it pointed sur again, at least somewhat sur. She hoped it was working. The going-away present from her Circlemates had been given to her just before this whole ordeal had begun; she felt connected to it now.

  In fact, other than her utility knife and a couple other simple tools that had been in her old work jacket, the compass was one of only three things she had from her own home. Another being two small stone dice, a gift from her friend, Ador, less than a take before the fairies had burst in. And, of course, her diamond pendant.

  Ella had told her diamonds were sacred to the Fo-ror, and the uncut one she possessed was of immeasurable value, not just for its size but quite literally, as the Fo-ror despised and did not use currency. Dime clutched the octagonal pendant protectively before tucking it back under her shirt. Another mystery to unravel.

  She rinsed out the brew cup and set it on a drying cloth. The view through the window caught her eye, as it often did. Sol’s light bounced and danced over the needled trees and hanging vines. Though part of Ja-lal lands, she wondered how many knew such a treasure existed here, at the wesside edge of Sol’s Reach.

  Probably very few.

  Compelled to feel the fresh breeze on her face, she padded down the spiral stairs, admiring the fit of the new boots on her feet.

  Pushing open the smoothly carved door, Dime stepped into the light. A breeze smelling of sap and wood and dirt tickled her nose, and squips bounced from branch to branch. Ella was walking back up the hill, her curved stick in one hand and a bundle of small kindling tucked under the opposite arm.

  “Did I upset you?” Dime asked. Not always having the best read on pyrsi’s reactions, she’d learned long ago that sometimes it was best to just ask.

  “No. Here, look at this.” Ella set the sticks next to the stone tower wall and pointed over to a tree. “Not too close.”

  Dime gasped. A nest was built into the crook of a large branch, each layer woven as though by expert hands. It wound over the contours of the tree, asymmetrical yet elegant in each turn. She’d never seen anything like it. Birds nested in the towers of Lodon, but only in small walkside trees, or wherever they could find a nook amongst the walls and ledges.

  “Creatures are good at different things. And when you encourage those things, and otherwise let them be, they create pure beauty.”

  Dime didn’t bother to object to the ch’pyrish parable, as if she weren’t into her Gamh. She did consider that, like this nest, Ella had lived here a long time. It must be lonely, though. Dime knew better than to ask why she didn’t return to the city. Maybe if Dime lived here, she wouldn’t either. But, still.

  “I hope that we are friends,” Dime offered.

  “Well, I’d hope so too. I mean, what does it take?”

  The two fe’pyrsi laughed together at the edge of the old woods while the bird with the elaborate nest chattered down at them and the trees’ needles shook above like a thousand little rattles in the breeze.

  “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.” Dime really couldn’t.

  “I told you, buy me a ferm.” She made a little drinking motion with one hand, as if to punctuate.

  Dime smirked. “It would have to be one super ferm at this point.”

  “Excellent! I have no lack of faith.”

  A feeling overtook her. “Would you accept a hug?” Dime would have to stop acting like an awkward ch’pyr around the older fe’pyr. No wonder she got so many lectures.

  Ella moved forward and wrapped her arms around Dime, lingering as her hands pressed into her back and Dime leaned in, her chin lightly brushing Ella’s shoulder. The warmth of the embrace comforted Dime. They stepped back apart.

  “Could I ask for a promise?”

  “Sure . . . ” Dime hesitated to say anything, but, well, what could she refuse this fe’pyr? “Anything.”

  “If you’re in danger near here or up to the city, you’ll let me know. Send up one of t
hose flares, if you can. You’ll give me a chance to help you. That . . . would mean a lot.”

  Dime just sort of stared, thinking about whether it was a promise she could keep.

  Ella pressed her fingertips together. “Look, I’m just here, with my trees and the squips and Friend. And my memories— The Ja-lal and the Fo-ror, this has gone on too long. A connection will risk the Violence, they say.” Ella paused. “It is the Violence to keep us apart.” A pleading look entered her eyes. “Maybe . . . maybe you will help. Maybe I can help you.”

  Dime nodded. Perhaps it was the timing of their meeting, or perhaps more, but Dime felt a special connection to this fe’pyr. And it bothered her to leave her alone again, she realized.

  “I promise,” she said. She stared up at the large bird nest, thinking of what else she could say as an appropriate departure. When she looked back, Ella was gone.

  “Goodbye, Friend,” she whispered, with a wave to the second-level window.

  Unlike her previous feelings of relief and homecoming at reaching the dry and magnificent foothills of Sol’s Reach, Dime felt a sadness as she passed out of the old woods’ boundaries and back onto the tufted hills.

  She’d fallen in love with the old woods, yet Lodon had always been her home. This was disorienting, as she couldn’t live in the trees and in the city all at once. She reminded herself, home was the pyrsi she loved—and the physical items that connected them to her. Wherever those pyrsi were, and the objects and places around them: that was home. She tried to believe it.

  Glancing back in the direction of Lodon, Dime almost turned around. Her longing to see her family had only intensified with time. Being told they were safe wasn’t the same as seeing for herself. She wished she could talk to Dayn. Ask what he thought. Except she knew—he’d tell her to trust her instinct. And her instinct took her to Pito.

  With a deep sigh, Dime turned away from Lodon again. And walked. “I’ll come back,” she whispered.

  She’d thought about finding a toothcar, but had decided against it. A rental would be too risky; she couldn’t say when she’d bring it back or how. And a purchase would be wasteful; she’d have to borrow substantially more of Ella’s unsigned notes, even if she had enough to spare, and then perhaps leave the car waiting at the cliff.

  Perhaps more to the point, she needed to avoid pyrsi as much as possible until she understood what was going on.

  It sounded like an understatement: what was going on. How else was she supposed to describe a general crumbling of a historical truce between two species, combined with the revelation, after almost half of a lifetime, that she was biologically one and culturally the other? Oh, with both governments out searching for her. And meanwhile, she’d befriended some newts.

  She’d continue to tooth with the going on description, then.

  Dime began a very long walk across Sol’s Reach. As her compass now seemed to just point whichever way she was going, she ignored it and relied instead on the shadows.

  Pointing in the direction Ella had told her to travel, Dime’s path traced a stark angle to her previous journey sur. That one had started in Lodon and taken her to the wesside of the Great Cliff, where she’d tumbled down what she now knew to be one of the less severe sections. This time, she’d started not so far wes of Lodon, and was headed to the center of the cliff.

  She wasn’t returning through the Crossing. Passing through the strange settlement would have made her nervous now, thinking pyrsi might be on the look for her. But that wasn’t the main reason she aimed instead at the cliff’s center.

  Pito, the fairies’ large city, was located in the center of Ada-ji, essentially directly sur of Lodon. Lodon rested about as far from the Great Cliff as it could, while Pito sat close against it. Dime liked taking scenic routes, but not so far out of the way as the Crossing would have taken her. And surely descending the cliff was much more pleasant with gear—and on one’s feet.

  Her destination felt absurd when she continued to think about it. The Heartland was an unapproachable place—a dangerous far-away land. Yet, one could reach it over the course of a day or a night, even from as far as she was now, and even on foot. Yet, pyrsi either never ventured to try, or those who did never talked about it. Maybe something one was taught xyr whole life wasn’t so easy to see around. Which became downright sinister when those messages were orchestrated. She took a breath and rested her hand over her necklace. Since no one was here to see, she flipped it out, over her shirt.

  While discussing the cliff, Ella had confirmed the hushed rumors Dime had dismissed these many cycles, that there were caves of diamonds in the center of Ada-ji. The Great Cliff, Ella said, held entrances to them, at the edge of Pito itself. Instead of being a secret, as they were to the Ja-lal, they were known and discussed openly amongst the Fo-ror.

  Yet they were not visited so openly. The Seats maintained full control over the caves, and no pyr was allowed even to approach them without authorization. No pyr would try.

  Dime now understood that, unlike the hemsa enforcement of Lodon, in Pito they subscribed to a technique called arrest, where pyrsi could be taken and secluded away, perhaps in separate homes. She wasn’t sure about the details.

  She also wasn’t sure if, when she arrived in Pito, they’d continue with her arrest. Even Ella didn’t have a full sense of their laws. Suzanne had never lived in Pito, only visited, and much like in Sol’s Reach, Ella had explained, rules were stricter in the city.

  But Dime had spent a good part of a career as an Intel agent, even if that had turned into much more managerial work in the towers than she’d expected. Those cycles had given her skills, also. She was clever and knew her way around pyrsi. And, she admitted, she was feeling stubborn.

  Ma’Ferala, as Ella had called the High Seat—well, they’d both see how this was going to go.

  Maybe Dime should have been more scared. Based on the fairy tales of her youth, she would have been. But she’d seen their faces, their very pyr-like expressions. She’d seen fear in their eyes. Nervousness. Relief. All in the short time they’d faced each other.

  Or maybe, Dime had already overcome her own fear. Recognizing the fleeting nature of her life, she’d left her career. She no longer had failure to fear; she’d already done that.

  The Violence? They’d already done that to her too.

  She trudged on.

  Climbing was as familiar as stone to the norside Ja-lal.

  And with Sol setting across the horizon, Dime knew she’d want to hurry. Perhaps she’d not hurried enough on the long journey from Ella’s tower, but it was nice to feel like herself again. To walk in Sol’s warm light. And to think.

  No, she’d be fine.

  She peered over a dip in the cliff’s edge, her stomach turning a bit at the enormity of the drop before her. Unlike the sloped and wooded cliff she’d tumbled down on the wesside, she now gazed at a chilling wall of rock that descended into little green treetops poking up from far below—the forest of the Undergrowth. Not fully sheer, the uneven face held small ledges and outcrops. If she were careful, she could lower herself in stages.

  A stone bumped from her toe and bounced down the cliff’s side, its cracking noises dulling with each bounce. Dime shuddered.

  Climbing spikes and ropes in hand, Dime neither dallied nor rushed. She jostled each spike to make sure it was secure before pulling her rope over it, and she kept her focus steady as her feet found each hold, keeping space between her torso and the rough rock face. Section by section, she descended with caution, and did not panic when darkness fell.

  Which was to say, on the side of the cliff, it did not set. It fell.

  Dime took a calming breath, remembering what Ella had said. Despite a lifetime of relying on lamps at the slightest darkness, Dime’s eyes were Fo-ror. They seemed to naturally adjust to the dark, even if just a small amount. She didn’t know if they would have adjust
ed more with Fo-ror use and training early on, but she was glad for whatever help they offered. After about a bell, she was near the bottom, able to make out the silhouettes of trees around her.

  Like feeling for the end of a staircase in the dark, she tapped around, one foot and then the other, searching for another ledge, another drop. Finally finding nothing but flat rock, she collapsed to a seat. As her eyes continued to adjust, the trees formed around her. Above her.

  Dime was back in the Heartland.

  She squinted down at her compass. It was jumping like a squip again, the thin needle bouncing in all directions. Maybe the devices didn’t work closer to the Heartland, but it hadn’t been right when she left Ella’s either. Sighing, she unclipped it and folded it into a pouch. When she made it back to Lodon—no one could keep her out forever—she’d take it to a repair shop for a look.

  So, it seemed, she’d need to find this city on her own. Fortunately, Ella had said it was similar in size to Lodon, so she only had to not miss it entirely.

  Lowering herself down the massive cliff had been tiring, and Dime had already given up on fear. As the trees took shape in the darkness around her, she moved to a clearing to find a place to sleep. She slept well and woke rested. Not hearing anything but the sounds of nature, she lit a fire. Calmed by the snaking patterns of the wafting smoke, she unpacked a meal and a filter bag to make some brew, once she found a source of water.

  Dime worried about the net she had encountered near the cliff when she was further wes. It might extend here, as well. Yet, a short walk led her to a bubbling brook with plenty of water to drink, clean, and steam a good brew.

  Enjoying a slow meal and an extra cup of the brew, she absorbed the sounds and smells of the forest. As before, the forest did not operate in subtlety. It whirred and clicked and raced around her, fully alive in the darkness. In the distance, a large branch fell, and she listened to it cracking its way to the ground, its final fall echoing through the tree trunks.