Wild Magic

Chapter 20. Fiddling The Escape

Desantro squatted beside the longchair, scratched at her nose. “First on, where we going?”

“I thought down the River to Bairroa Pili.” Penhari swept a hand along her body. “You see what you’ve got to work with, Desa. I’m neither young enough nor insane enough to try crossing the mountains.”

Desantro’s mouth twisted into something half a smile and half a grimace. “Jumps to mind, that. We need time to get far ‘nough so they can’t just put thumb out and squash us.”

“Do you know anything about boats?”

“Not many boats on skislope.” Desantro pulled a blade of grass loose, looked at the withered stem and tossed it away. “So we buy us a sailor afore we start.” She tilted her head, looked sideways at Penhari. “Need coin for him. Not gold, nayo, nayo, gold gets ’em greedy, just the shine a it. Silver, what I want. Maybe thirty, fifty, somp’n like that.”

“Vema. I can arrange that.”

“Be tricky, slaves an’t s’posed to have anything to do with boat.”

“But you can do it?”

Desantro lifted a sturdy, callused hand, spread fingers and thumb, rocked them back and forth as if to say, so so ask me no question I tell you no lie.

“‘When?”

“Thought about that. Wounded Moon’s full five days on, there’s a Festa day before, ‘s when ‘prentice smiths, all kinds, they get raised to journeyman, being they ready for ‘t. One a them Festas we get off on, Primakass order, like I said. I tell Chambermassal I bring cold food in the morning, you c’n take care a youself, he’ll like that. He’ll be liking it so much he won’t be smelling anything spooked. A good thing ’cause I c’n get hold a more food than other days, gonna be a help ’cause we’ll need somp’n to eat going downRiver, can’t be stopping, anyway, an’t much out there these days, what I hear.” She jumped to her feet, began pacing back and forth, excitement spilling over, brushing against Penhari, infecting her. “Soon’s it be dark, we get you out city, over to boat. Take off. Be morning afore anyone notice I’m not back, later an that when they find out you gone.” She slapped her handi against her side. “C’n do ‘t, vema, vema, we can do it!”

Penhari swung her feet off the longchair and watched Desantro go rushing out. A quarter century’s caution washed away. How easily she forgets. Trusts me. Or is she simply playing me as I’ve been trying to manipulate her? She got to her feet and began moving about the garden, nipping away dead blooms, dying leaves, casting the detritus on the grass behind her. Time to consider her resources.

There were the jewels Wenyarum kept giving her. At the moment there was no way to turn these into coin; no jeweler would buy so much as a silver ring from a slave, so she couldn’t send a piece out with Desantro. The jewelry would be useful, but only after she got away from here.

She straightened, frowned at the withered brown flowerhead she was holding. If I can keep the things from being stolen. Desantro’s tales of the street and countryside were lesson enough about the difficulties travelers faced, men and women alike. I’ll have to sew hiding places in my skirts and tunics, put in padding to keep the shapes hidden. She rubbed plant juices from her fingers, glanced at the sun. Not now Tonight. I don’t want anyone walking in on me while I’m doing-it. Not even Desantro. Particularly not Desantro. I may be ignorant, but I’m not foolish. She made a face at the flowerhead, tossed it aside. Not all the time, anyway.

There was her name-day gold. Wenyarum made sure that custom was kept up. Each name-day, one broad millefur for every year of her life. Three months ago Famtoche had presented her with fifty-two millefurs. She had no illusions about Wenyarum Taleza. Most of the hoard had probably gone on habatrizes and uniforms-and on the jewelry he pressed on her (conscience money, no doubt, and bragging rights), but there should be something left. The private passage between their bedrooms must be thick with dust and spiders by now; he was the only one to use it, she’d never had the least desire to go to him, but he’d showed her the trick of the panels and she remembered. She wouldn’t have to go into the outer halls and face that sneering guard. Wonder if Famtoche set a guard on Wenyarum’s suite? Hmm. I can send Desantro there tomorrow to fetch… what? Considering the condition of my library, a scroll… what does he have… never mind, I’ll think of something later… if there’s no guard, then that’s how I get out.