Viky had risen and eaten early. Raced through her training and been rewarded by arriving back at the enclave and finding Tushii had already left for places unknown. Stormblast. Frustrated she glanced around the enclave to see who else she could question. Maddie, Isobeel and Jess were with their children on the green and as Shellie’s and Shaar’s little girls were with them, the twins were probably busy. As she watched Gabreel joined the other women. That only left Move-like-a-River. Viky slipped back into her suite, grabbed the Jiuliing pottery bowl River had gifted her when she had bonded Jieleem, stacked it with Red Great Tree fruit, took her courage in her hands and headed to River’s door.
River called ‘enter’ without inquiring who had knocked.
“Be out in a couple of heartbeats, just fixing Stream-at-Dawns’ hair.”
The reception room was devoid of human life, but the Vorreel was present. It uncurled warily, multifaceted light sensors and feeler all vibrating. Sensing her, tasting the air, checking her out. When Viky was sure it had got her scent, and that of the fruit, she lay a piece on the floor, and took a couple of steps back. The Vorreel flitted from its nest, talons clicking on the marble floor, before strutting across the room with every indication it knew exactly who ran the household.
“Oh, hi. I wasn’t expecting you. It’s Ok, you don’t have to be so cautious, Amethyst is domesticated.” River swept the feeding animal into her arms. She was not a tall woman, but her features matched the slender elegance and pleasing curves her clothing took advantage of. Her brow was highly arched, possibly indicating a distant Xianees ancestor, but the petite nose and delicately lips were more Amaranthaan although she claimed her mother to be from Jiuliing.
“Lady Moves-like-a-River, she, Amethyst, is a beautiful animal.”
“Yes, she is, she was a gift from my mother when I was seven.” River ran her hand over the thick golden plumes and the animal responded by attempting to nibble a strand of her silver hair.
“Stop that now,” River said, though Viky noticed that River didn't push the animal away or put her down.
“May I inquire why a gold-coloured creature is called Amethyst?” Viky had to ask.
River chuckled, “It’s a family joke. My second-son brother is colour blind, and being the delightful cruel siblings’ children often are, we would miss-inform him at every opportunity, and then giggle about it behind his back.”
Viky nodded, yes children could be cruel. It was a given, expected. You imagined adults growing out of it, only, sometimes they didn’t. Could River have stolen the body chains out of spite? A hidden vindictive streak? Viky passed another piece of fruit to Amethyst. It was delicately taken between pincers.
“Mumma.” River’s small daughter tugged on her mother’s skirt. “Wanna play.”
“Yes sweetheart. Your Aunts are expecting you, run along now.” The top of the child’s head was given a ruffle, messing up the short tuft of ribboned brown hair. The little girl-child toddled off.
“What can I do for you?” River eyed the bowl of fruit. “As much as I appreciate you forming an attachment to Amethyst.”
“In The Rifts it’s customary to always visit the cave of a Handler with a gift of Great Tree fruit. I don’t know where you were from, or what customs you have, but I didn’t want to offend.”
“Handler?” River chuckled. “I’m not a Handler, I can barely get Amethyst to obey me. She’s never been foraging or ventured into the Evergreen. We breed them as pets. Not that she hasn’t got the most amazing ability to follow a scent. You will have to keep your front door closed now she has connected you with food or you will find your home raided.”
Viky looked sceptically from River to Amethyst, she had heard of such things of course. But the concept of keeping an animal purely for recreational reasons was unreasonable, a valuable resource wasted. But Viky had not come to discuss the Vorreel and River did not offer for her to lounge, expecting the visit to be short.
“I apologize for calling without notice. I have been encouraged to get to know my sisters better, I met with Jess in the library yesterday, visited Maddie the day before, saw Isobeel before that. So, I came by with an offering of food, but I don’t know if that is your custom.”
“Custom, maybe, but I'm not overly formal, so you don't have to worry too much about that. I'm pleased you've dropped by and glad you finally decided to get to know us. I really am. But I was just on my way out.” River placed Amethyst back in her nest, grabbed a bag and Shepard’d Viky to the front door. “Thanks for the visit, another time would be great, but I have somewhere I have to be just now, so call by tomorrow. Or even in a couple of hands breaths. Love to see you and have a chat then.”
There was a certain. . . guilt to her expression. Viky couldn’t tell if it was because River was breaking the cultural norm by not receiving a guest or had another more questionable reason for remorse. The result was the same, despite her best effort, Viky was left standing outside the door watching River’s disappearing back and feeling clueless.
***
The sixth day, of the second nine-day, in the Month of Bright Storms, in the rotation 204 A.P.W.
Dereniik had awoken from the nightmares and while throwing up smashed the ewer of his regular medication. Flagsteen had sent him a bottle of powder with instructions to ingest a tablespoon morning and evening. The powder tasted like burnt sand, not that he regularly ingested burnt sand, but the texture was course and it smelt like charcoal. It was difficult to swallow without liquid to wash it down, however once the process was accomplished his stomach settled. The residual taste influenced Dereniik’s choice to visit the canteen.
On entering Dereniik recognized Commander Glilmoor. The young man's life partner was in the last stages of her pregnancy, and he fussed over her with the diligence of a nesting flitter. Glilmoor looked up and gave him a rapid smile before fixing his attention on the object of his devotion. Dereniik had been like that once. Attentive to a woman he had loved more than Gods light. Memories inundated his mind; he lost concentration and almost stumbled. Forced himself to focus. There were two other families, Commander Vibees, a very tall man, bearded and overflowing his bench like an adult on a child’s stool, his lifepartner and adult second son sitting opposite, eating in silence. A younger unknown Commander, lifepartner and three little ones, all noise and energy lounged around another table. And in a quiet corner the young woman Lady La’navikyya. A few greetings were exchanged. Taking a seat, with his back to the wall in his favourite alcove close to the buffet, Dereniik waited to catch his breath.
Viky noticed and with clear intent came and stood opposite. “Commander Dereniik. Can I get you something?”
“My lady, that is most kind.” Dereniik went to stand, frowning Viky quickly sat.
He hadn't had time to peruse the table but wasn't about to miss the opportunity to acquire a decent meal.
“Your kind offer my lady is graciously accepted. Anything that is vegetarian and easy for a man with only one hand to eat without implements would be most welcome.”
A few heartbeats later a platter full of slabs of crusty thick Oleed bread drizzled with a variety of pickle dressings and a mug brimming with Kisoop juice were placed before him. Meal delivered she returned to her table and meal.
It was unreasonable to be disappointed, although the company would have been appreciated. Dereniik took his time. He had been hoping for another encounter with the young woman from the Rifts. Wondered how her investigation was proceeding. One family, and then the other finished their meal and left. Glilmoor, with little success encouraged his lifepartner with multiple small offerings. Belly full of baby she shifted uncomfortably.
Viky helped herself to a mug of Caraaf. “Commander Dereniik, would you like me to get you a mug?” Viky asked over her shoulder.
“Thank you, my lady, that would be wonderful.” It felt wrong not to stand, but Dereniik restrained himself.
The mug was delivered along with a plate of sugary round Caraay cakes.
Viky set her own mug down opposite and raised an eyebrow. Was she waiting for an invitation?
“My lady, would you grant me the honour of joining me?”
“Yes. Thanks, I'm not certain of all the protocol. Everyone has different customs, I guess I'll get it together eventually. And call me Viky.”
“Viky, it has been five rotations since I graduated as a Commander, and I have visited every major city under the Aurora. Despite diligent research I'm still unsure of the precise protocol in every situation. You are doing well, and most people can tell when genuine respect is intended.”
Dereniik selected a Caraay cake. The treats were still warm, and he was delighted as the fruity, yet somehow spicy, mouthwatering sweats finishing the meal perfectly.
“Thanks, are you from Hunnaal?” Viky selected a cake.
So direct, Dereniik grinned. “Yes, I am.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed.”
Dereniik shrugged. “My parent had classical Hunn features, but my mother has Commander ancestry and is of mixed race. I take after her side of the family.” A grandparent, he had been told.
“So vegetarian, are you of the Chopiic faith, or is that also a Hunnaal thing? I know you are supposed to ‘Using only the implements God gave you to eat?’”
“No, I do not follow the Chopiic faith.” He had never been very religious and lost what remained of his faith somewhere in the jungle. “It’s simpler than that, after my ordeal in the forest my body cannot digest meat. Also, can you imagine the mess I would make trying to cut a piece of meat without the ability to hold it still? As for your other question I am also not bound by Hunn traditions. My parentals wanted me to be a Commander from the moment I was born so I have taken no vows and am subsequently unencumbered by the restrictions of many of the traditions and customs of my people. But there is a comfortable familiarity conforming to routines ingrained by upbringing. I have and can use implements to eat, but I prefer not to.”
“That makes sense. One of the reasons I chose my life partner is because I love hearing his Rift accent. Sorry I shouldn't have said that he's a great guy, with other appealing features.” Viky shrugged. “And for what it's worth, although I don't know much about your story, I'm sorry you have lost so much.”
Dereniik slipped at his Caraaf. She knew about loss, this little one. He had heard those words repeated ad nauseam but coming from this person, hardly more than a girl-child, the sincerity was unmistakable. She understood.
“Thank you, Viky. May I be so bold as to inquire after your investigation? Please do not feel under any obligation to reveal details if you consider my question to be interference but rest assured my motivation is only to render further assistance if it be required.”
Vicky lent forward on her bench, tilt her head to the side and looking Dereniik straight in the eyes contemplated his question. Dereniik took the opportunity to sip at his Caraaf. He knew she had come to a decision before she answered.
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“I would love to give you further information about my investigation, but unfortunately, I don't have anything to share. I made some inquiries using the questions that you suggested. They were great for initiating conversations, and I really appreciate that, but I don't seem to be going anywhere fast.”
“You're not going to let it go through, are you?”
“Not at all. I've only asked about half my suspects, but it is disappointing to be no closer to the truth than when I started. It was my plan to have asked everyone by now.”
“Everyone? Setting yourself small achievable goals were you?” Dereniik grinned.
Viky returned a cheeky smile. “Everyone, on my suspect list.” She corrected.
“Most cases start of complex and become easier, with everyone as you say, a suspect. And although more than one person may be involved with the theft everybody you have asked so far may be completely innocent and have nothing further to contribute. Have you yet to question any of the D’char.”
Viky was thoughtful. “No, do you think one of them may have stolen, the item?”
“It's always possible, but it's more likely one of them may have noticed something. People often forget they are around, almost constantly in the background of our lives. You would be amazed how many incriminating things people say in front of them without realizing they are confessing in front of a witness.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? I've not had a lot to do with servants, we never have many in the Rifts. Some of them are not very bright and it makes them unhappy if they can't answer your question or think they have in any way displeased you.”
Dereniik grinned. It was refreshing to talk to someone with enough compassion to consider the feelings of a servant.
“It is true, there's a lot of variety of intelligence among the D’char. A brief inquiry will be revealed if they are capable of being a reliable witness and if you make the first question general their discomfort will be minimal.”
“OK I can see that's good advice. Thanks. There are only three of my sisters who have babies under nine months, and have a servant. But others regularly frequent our enclave to deliver water, clean the personal rooms, check ventilation ducts, bryophyte and whatever else they do up ladders.”
Dereniik thought it unwise to tell her there were also highly intelligent D’char who would be reporting the sister's activity back to the Godmothers. They were tight lipped, unlikely to volunteer clues.
“Would you like me to get you another mug of Caraaf?”
Viky was an observant little thing.
“Thank you, that would be delightful. And if I may be so bold, would you mind also refilling this flask with Caraaf for me please?” Dereniik hoisted the article from his newly acquired satchel.
“I do that too; that way Jeileen and I can share mug when he gets home from work.” Viky took the flask from him with a smile.
“Commander Jeileen is your life partner?”
“Yes, do you know him?”
“I have had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, but I do not know him well.”
Dereniik felt disappointed, and then guilty. Of course, the young woman had a life partner, he had just subconsciously hoped the young man would be incompetent, or unable to render aid and Dereniik would be able to prove useful to her in some small way. It was a foolish, selfish emotion and Dereniik mentally chided himself for the ungracious thought.
By the time she returned, and the second mug consumed, an unsettled feeling low in his stomach indicated it was time for him to move.
“Viky, dining with you has been a delightful interlude, but unless you have any other questions, or I can render the assistance to you in any other way, it is time now for me to leave.” Dereniik made a variation of the hand signal indicating his sincerity.
“It was great catching up with you too. I better get back and ask a few more questions. Thanks for the advice.”
And then she was gone, leaving the lingering slight scent of her lavender perfume and Dereniik wondering when he would see her again.
***
Queliion, God of good luck, was smiling on Viky as she entered be enclave. The servant assigned to assist Sheeli with her new baby was playing a game with a couple of toddlers on the central green. Geometric blocks were being stacked and pushed over amidst much merriment and high-pitched delighted screaming. It was all very random, and even after watching for an extended period Viky failed to discern any sort of structure or rules. She couldn't understand the point of the game; it was annoying that the toddlers evidently did.
“My Lady can this humble servant be of assistance?” the D’char gasped.
“Yes please, have you seen anybody in the enclave carrying a large package?”
Viky was quite pleased with the question. Simple and direct.
“My Lady Sheeli purchased a large quantity of Keepiit Flower dye the other day. That was quite a large package, my lady.”
“What about packages leaving the enclave?” Viky asked.
The servant was rewarded for their distraction by being pelted with a block. Fortunately, the girl-child had not yet lived long enough to perfect her aim or put force behind the throw.
“It is with great respect that your humble servant asks you to direct these questions to Ladies Sheeli and Shaar, as this one does not feel in a position to answer your inquiries.”
“OK, I think. Thanks. Do you know if they're in now?” It had been worth a try.
“Yes, my lady. Lady Shaar is at home. Lady Sheeli is not.” The servant took three back steps, tripped over a block, and went back to a variation of the game where the construction took place on the servant’s back.
Shaar’s reception room reminded Viki of a clothing emporium on the level above, but smaller, intimate, and on a less intimidating scale. Cowls, scarves, and shawls were the most common items, but a small selection of hats, fascinators and bolts of cloth were all stacked in precise piles around the room. Each item was unique, boasting a different style, fabric, and construction. Closer inspection revealed a variety in the level of skill with some items demonstrating a high level of competency while others appeared to be the first projects of a learner.
Familiarities had been exchanged and Viki was invited to lounge. She found a small, unencumbered corner of a couch and perched on the edge.
“I heard you were visiting everyone, finally decided to be social, have you? Or have you come to purchase something off us?” Shaar fished out a drop spindle and started to thread the leader.
“Buy something off you? Are all these things for sale?” Viky asked. The twins nearly always had something they were making in their hands. She knew they considered themselves Makers, Crafters, or whatever regional variation of the term was used in Wild Waters. But she hadn’t known the twins were selling what they made.
“No,” the word dripped with sarcasm, “Sheely and I are going to wear ninety-nine shawls, all at the same time.”
“Do you sell very much?” Viky found watching rotating spindle calming.
“Not to newly bonded women. The allowance we are given is ample for most and the prospect of being set up with everything we need when we leave makes them reluctant to part with sequin before they know what part of the coalition they are heading to. But us girls of the contribution are not the only women in the capital.”
“Why do you need more sequin? You agree the allowance we're given is plenty, and we're going to be given more, why go to the trouble of doing all this work?” Finally, a motive.
“It's not work. We love to make things.”
Viky nodded, knew plenty of people who enjoyed making things with their hands. She preferred to read but there had been satisfaction in producing something useful from raw materials.
“There are a lot of emporiums upon the next level. Isn't that where the women of Chruciaal purchase goods?”
Shaar rolled her eyes. “Yes, most often, but all those things must be shipped from other cities, and that puts the cost up. The Crafters need to make their sequin, Merchants must be paid, Nisayaan roosted and cared for, it all adds to the expense. We can offer the items we make cheaper.”
“Well, good on you. You can certainly make a lot of different styles.” Viky sort to find some common ground.
“We are trying to cater to a variety of tastes, we grew up in Wild Waters, but both our parentals are of Commander stock and between them represent many of the significant populations.”
That explained the twins’ bland features and lack of blue tattoos.
“You can make finer thread than I ever could,” spinning had never been one of Vicky’s favourite jobs. “And your drop spindle looks lighter and has the whorl at the top of the shaft.”
Shaar nodded. “If the weight is at the bottom of the shaft, it’s better for thicker yarns and heavier fibres. Top-whorl Spindles rotate at a higher speed which makes them ideal for spinning thin yards and fine fibres. Both have their uses.”
Suspended from the yarn, the spindle rotated freely. Shaar had both hands free to hold and draft the fibre. Periodically she would release the yarn from the hook at the top and wind the spun yarn onto the staff.
“I was from the Whip-makers clan in the Rifts, during the months of Assault and Fire we made whips and grip vine ropes, but I don't think they'd be much call for them in the capital.”
Shaar raised an eyebrow. “You have done yourself this not just watched others?”
“Of course, why should they have all the fun? We all had a share.” Viky was sure she had just gone up a couple of notches in her sister’s estimation. She wondered if she should have mentioned she knew how to make soft pliable leather for slings. The twins never went anywhere without the small weapon ornamenting their hair. Once she'd noticed the sling, the chunky bead necklace made a lot more sense.
“Grip Vines ropes and Whips are considered a poor man's tools. But they are used extensively in different parts of the Coalition. No self-respecting Gatherer would go into the Evergreen without a Grip Vine rope in the Wild Waters area. I'll talk it over with my sister, but if you can make them of a decent quality and you want us to retail them for you, we take twenty percent of your asking price.”
“I don’t know much about selling, we barter most things in the Rifts.” Viky shrugged.
“That’s why you will need me. I sell for Tushii and Maddie as well.”
Viky nodded but twenty percent was a lot to give someone who had put no work into producing an item. Didn't think she would trust Shaar with any of her work even if she considered the venture worthwhile.
“What does Tushii make?” Viky asked.
“Marionettes and dolls, but only on request. You can see an example of her work on the shelf there. But she does them to order with the customers preferred facial features.”
Viky examined the item in question. The doll was a baby girl, with face and hands of porcelain, a soft body, and a small dress, exquisitely embroidered. Viky had a doll as a child, and idly wondered what had happened to him now. Her doll had been an adult, ‘Kyyl the explorer’, and they had many adventures together before she’d been old enough to be included on foraging and gathering expeditions and have adventures herself.
“I didn't think you knew how to do anything useful,” Shaar said. “Why do you spend all your time in the library when you could be making things?”
“I didn’t know it was an option, but, when we leave here, there won't be a library to explore.” Viky said thinking out loud. “Whereas I will always be able to find the raw material to make things with leather and grip vines.”
“You've been in the Evergreen, gathering the material yourself?”
“Never by myself. We always foraged and gathered in groups. It's safer that way, but down in the Rifts there are not many alpha predators. The plateaus are different, and women and children are encouraged not to venture onto them much.”
The eyebrow rose even higher. Shaar’s expression verging on respect. Viky took a sustaining breath.
“Have you heard Isobeel’s body chains are missing?”
A guarded look came to Shaar’s eyes, and she lost rhythm with her spinning, covering the mistake by taking hold of the shaft and winding the twisted fibre onto it.
“Yes, and she's not the only one missing things. Maddie's had a couple of her carvings stolen and we've lost three fine items from our stock.”
Viky noted the shift in Shaar’s attitude, evidently shed hit on a sore spot. Some of the earlier affability was absent.
“Gabreel thinks it’s me, but it's not.” Viky pretended she didn't care.
“Gabreel is a fool. Some of the things went missing long before you came on the scene. Don't know if you're responsible for the body chains, but you couldn't have been responsible for everything.”
“Why does Gabreel hate me? She is always trying to pick fights, criticize or insult me? What have I ever done to her?”
Shaar regarded her seriously for a heartbeat. “It’s not so much that she hates you, more like she fears you.”
That made no sense at all.
“Also, you are bonded to Jieleen, his first life partner was Gabreel’s best friend. I think she has loyalty and stupidity confused.”
Surprisingly that did make sense. Almost.
“How do you think it was stolen? The body chains I mean, I first thought it was a small piece of jewellery, able to be hidden in your hand or pocket, but Jess showed me a picture in the library. They are not something that you could just walk off with without being noticed.”
“Yeah, I hadn’t thought about the size angle. We lost bolts of cloth. A couple of them were double bolts and one of quilted kilt material, heavy and bulky. How did someone walk off with them without being noticed?”
“Were Maddie’s statues large?”
“Don’t know about the first one, but the second one was a kissing couple about as tall as the length of my forearm.” She stopped spinning, winding the work on while contemplating the problem.
“What would you have done to steal something like that?”
“Stealing is wrong. Work and effort go into making things, it's right that people are compensated for their industry. Once you have purchased something it's your right to keep it. Only a very low character would steal things.” She gave the spindle a quick twist.
“I agree. Bartering relies on that, seeing the worth in others production and swapping work of equivalent value. But then why would you take twenty percent of the profit from my work?”
“Finding clients to buy goods, building a reputation and network, storing, and displaying items, this all takes time and it's a different sort of work. It also needs to be compensated for.”
“You're not offended I asked?”
“You offend everyone, I’m not an exception and not particularly worried about it.” Shaar grinned. “I mean, I've lived with Sheeli all my life. If I can put up with her, I can put up with you.”
Viky agreed. Sheeli would be a hard person to live with, Viky on the other hand had a perfectly good reason for not wanting to be sociable and was only ever sarcastic when people said stupid things. She couldn’t think of any reason Sheeli would have stolen the body chains, if her spinning was anything to go by, she could have made one for herself if she really wanted too.
“Do you know what the body chains were made from?”
“No, I don’t. I have asked Isobeel, and she didn’t know either.”
“If you knew what they were made from, could you make a set for yourself?”
Shaar broke her thread.
“Why do you ask? And no, I don’t think I could. I’m better at spinning and prefer tatting to weaving. But I don’t think I’d want to, or even be allowed. They are a Hunn First Family thing, supposed to be worn for the Coronation of the Hidden Princess when she is found and restored.”
Shaar recovered well, but she had been startled. Had she not liked the question or didn’t want to reveal her lack of knowledge? The excuse had come easy, almost like it had been rehearsed.
Viky wasn’t good at making small talk but gave it her best shot and left shortly after. She didn’t have anything definitive, but Shaar steered the conversation away from body chains and wasn’t happy till she was walking Viky out the door.