the opposite direction. She and Leftrin had to move closer to the edge to allow them passage, and the rhythm of their strides made the whole structure waggle like a friendly dog being petted. But by the third crossing, she had recovered her sensation of dancing with Leftrin. They reached their final platform with her slightly out of breath but feeling triumphant.
Cassarick had ambition. That was evident from the size of the Traders’ Hall they had built all around the trunk of the largest tree she had visited yet. The platform that supported and surrounded it served as an esplanade. It circled both Hall and tree, and four staircases wound up from it to platforms in adjacent trees. Early as it was and dim as the light was this far below the treetops, sputtering torches still lit the walkways. Their journey had led them away from the riverbank, and less light from that open area penetrated the settlement. Alise felt that she had journeyed into a twilight city of fantastic people.
She had grown up in Bingtown among the descendants of the original Trader families who had settled there. She had always known of their Rain Wilds kin and respected the bonds between Rain Wilds and Bingtown. Only here in the Rain Wilds were the magical treasures of the ancient Elderlings to be unearthed. But living in the Rain Wilds and working in the buried Elderling cities exacted a toll on the folk who settled there. Almost all Rain Wilders had some disfigurement at birth, and it increased with each year of their lives. Sometimes it was a bit of scaling on the scalp or lips, or a fringe of wattled growths along the jawline. With age might come a change in eye colour and a thickening of nails; those were typical of the sorts of things one might see on a Rain Wilder who visited Bingtown. Even Captain Leftrin had his share of marks. The skin on the backs of his hands and on the knobs of his wrist was bluish and lightly scaled. Behind his bushy eyebrows and on the back of his neck, she thought she had glimpsed more scaling. It had been easy to ignore.
Here in Cassarick as in Trehaug, the majority of the Rain Wilders went unveiled. This was their city and if folk who visited here did not respect them, such folk were swiftly encouraged to leave. She had tried not to stare at the workmen who had passed them earlier. The backs of their hands and their elbows had been heavily scaled, and the scales had not been flesh coloured, but blue or green or shocking scarlet. One man had been completely hairless, scales like fine mail over his bared scalp, and outlining his brow and replacing his lips. Another had sported a heavy fringe of fleshy growths along his jaw and some that overshadowed his eyes, thick and floppy like the comb of a rooster. She had averted her eyes from them, grateful that keeping her balance on the galloping bridge demanded all her attention.
But now she was on a solid platform and it was difficult to know where to put her gaze. This early in the day, there were not many folk about but all were unmistakably marked as Rain Wilders. Many cast curious glances her way, and she desperately told herself that it was her attire, so different from what they wore, that drew their eyes. The men had been wearing almost a uniform of heavy blue cotton shirts, thick brown canvas trousers and loose canvas jackets. The boots they wore were heavy things, still clotted with dried mud from their previous day’s work. They’d carried their lunches in canvas sacks. Thick gloves and woollen hats protruded from their trouser pockets. “Diggers,” Leftrin had told her as they passed. “Headed off for a long day’s work underground. Cold down there, and damp, winter or summer.”
Now, as they passed a woman clad in soft leather trousers and a leather vest tufted with fur, Leftrin said, “She’s a climber. See how she goes barefoot for a better grip. She’ll be headed up into the canopy today, to gather fruit or hunt birds.”
Just as she nearly decided that the women of Cassarick led hard, lean lives, two chattering girls passed them going the other direction. They wore morning dresses and were perhaps going off to call on a friend or to visit the early markets. Their flounced skirts were shorter than those currently worn in Bingtown, and showed off their soft brown shoes. They wore lacy little shawls and their hats were designed to look like large, softly folded leaves. She turned her head to look after them, and for a moment a familiar envy flooded up to drown her spirits. They looked so cheery and busy, chattering away together. When they came to a bridge, they linked arms and clattered across it together, whooping like hoydens when they reached the other side.
“What makes you sigh?” Leftrin asked her, and she realized that she was staring after them.
She shook her head, smiling tightly at her own foolishness, “I was just thinking that somehow I skipped being that age, and I’ll always regret it. I often feel that I went from being a girl to being a settled woman, with none of that giddiness in between.”
“You talk like you’re an old woman, with your whole life lived.”
A sudden lump rose in her throat. I am, she thought. In a few days, I’ll go home and settle down to what I’ll be the rest of my life. No adventures ahead, no changes to anticipate. Nothing to anticipate except leading a proper life. She swallowed and by the time she could speak, she had more appropriate words. “Well, I’m a married woman with a settled life. I suppose what I miss is a sense of uncertainty. Of possibility waiting just around the corner.”
“And you’re saying you never had that?”
She paused because the truth was somehow humiliating. “No. I don’t think I did. I think my life was more or less mapped out from the beginning. Getting married was a surprise for me. I didn’t think I’d ever marry. But once I was a married woman, my life settled into a routine that wasn’t much different from when I was single.”
He was silent for longer than was his wont, and when she glanced over at him, his mouth was strangely puckered as if he strove to keep words in. “Just say it,” she suggested and then wondered if she was brave enough to hear whatever judgment he held back.
He grinned at her. “Well, it’s not polite to say, but if I were a man and married to a woman such as you, and she said to another fellow that her life as my wife wasn’t much different from her life when she’d been single, well, I’d wonder what I was doing wrong.” He raised his eyebrows at her and whispered in a ribald tone, “Or not doing at all!”
“Captain Leftrin!” she exclaimed, genuinely shocked. Then, when he burst out laughing, she was horrified at joining in.
When they both paused for breath he held up a warning hand. “No. Don’t tell me! Some things a wife should never say about her husband! And here we are, anyway, so our time for chat is over.”
They had reached the doors of the Traders’ Hall. Each tall door was a single slab of black wood, twice as tall as a man. Leftrin pushed on one and it swung silently open.
The hall had no windows. There was an antechamber, lit with a single branch of candles that smelled like orange blossom. Leftrin didn’t pause as he crossed the carpeted floor and went through yet another set of tall doors. Alise followed him, and found herself in a circular chamber. Tiers of descending benches circled a wide dais. On the dais was a long table of pale wood, with a dozen heavy chairs behind it. Only half of them were currently occupied. Suspended globes that looked like balls of yellow glass cast a golden light throughout the room. The scattered lights bent the shadows in the room in odd ways. The walls of the room were hung with tapestries. They were either of Elderling origin or very clever imitations. Her eyes snagged on them and she longed to beg for time to study every aspect of them.
But their abrupt entry had caused a stir among the six Rain Wilders seated at the table. Despite the early hour, they were formally dressed in their Trader robes. Each robe was of a different colour and design to indicate which of the original settlement families the Trader represented. Alise did not recognize any of them. The Trader families of Bingtown were different from those of the Rain Wilds, even though there had been substantial intermarriage for years. Close to the centre of the seating a woman with a lined face and a stiff grey brush of hair glared at them. “This is a private committee meeting,” she announced. “If you are here on Trader business, you will have to make an appointment and come back later.”
“I believe we were invited to this meeting,” Leftrin responded.
His use of “we” was not lost on Alise and her heart leapt. He would do whatever he could to keep her here and privy to what was happening with the dragons. “I’m Captain Leftrin of the scow
He let the word hang and the woman’s hands fluttered up in a gesture dismissing her previous protest. But before she could speak, the door behind Alise and Leftrin shut with an audible and angry thump. Alise turned, startled, and gasped in surprise. An Elderling woman, gowned all in silver and blue, stood there. Her eyes gleamed metallic in the golden light and her face looked like anger cast in stone. “This is not a legitimate meeting, Captain Leftrin. As you can see, there are not enough members of the committee seated to authorize any action.”
“On the contrary, Malta Khuprus.” The woman who had spoken earlier held up a sheaf of paper. “I have
