interviewing people who wanted an audience with the Second Voice and deciding if their purpose, or status, was important enough to allow a meeting to take place.
She was given a room near the front of the Sanctuary in which to interview these people. It had two entrances: a public and a private one. The private one allowed her to come and go without being accosted by the people waiting outside the public one.
She had also been given an assistant, Servant Kikarn. He was an ugly man, so skinny he looked perpetually stern, but she was discovering that he had a sharp wit and intelligence. As she sat down he placed a particularly long list on her table and she suppressed a groan.
“What did the wind blow in this morning?”
Kikarn chuckled. “Everything from gold dust to litter,” he replied. “The merchant Ario wishes to bribe - er,
“How much?”
“Enough to build a new Temple.”
“Impressive. What does he want in return?”
“Nothing, of course.”
She smiled. “We’ll see. What else?”
“A woman who was a palace domestic in Kave claims the High Chieftain’s wife has taken to worshipping a dead god. She says she has proof.”
“She must be sure of it, or she wouldn’t approach Second Voice Imenja.”
“Unless she is ignorant of the Voices’ mind-reading skills.”
“We shall see.” She looked down the list and stopped at a familiar name. “Thinker Kuerres?”
“He is here to see
“Not Imenja?”
“No.”
“What does he want?”
“He won’t say, but he insists that it’s an urgent matter. Someone’s life may depend on it.”
“And the others.”
“Not as important as the first two.”
“The first two will take some time. Send Kuerres in. I’ve never known him to exaggerate or lie. Most likely they want to know what I did with my books and instruments.”
Kikarn bowed his head. As he moved to the door she considered what she knew of Kuerres. He was one of the quieter Thinkers. He’d never been unkind to her, though he hadn’t paid much attention to her either. She frowned as she searched her memory for facts that might prove useful. He had a family. He kept a menagerie of exotic animals.
That was all she could remember. She recognized the middle-aged man who entered the room, but his manner was nothing like she remembered. He glanced around the room nervously, his face pale and his hands clasped together.
“Thinker Kuerres,” she said. “It is good to see you again. Sit down.”
“Servant Reivan,” he said, tracing a star over his chest. He eyed Kikam, then stepped forward and dropped into the chair.
“What brings you to the Sanctuary?” she asked.
“I... I have a crime to report.”
She paused. She’d assumed he was nervous about being in the Sanctuary and talking to people of importance. Now she began to wonder if he’d got himself into some kind of trouble.
“Go on,” she said.
He took a deep breath. “We - the Thinkers - were approached by a trader yesterday. A rich trader who wanted information and was willing to pay generously for it.” Kuerres paused and met her eyes. “He wanted to know about the Elai.”
“The sea people? Some of the Thinkers don’t even believe they exist.”
“Yes. We told him all we knew, but he wasn’t satisfied. He asked if any of us knew much about keeping wild animals and I offered my services.”
Reivan smiled. “Let me guess: he’d bought some kind of large, strange sea creature and thought it might be the origin of the legend?”
Kuerres shook his head. “Rather the opposite. I offered to help him. I was curious. He took me to his home. What I found there was...” he shuddered “... horrible. A sick, frightened child - but a child like none I’ve ever seen before. Thick black skin. Entirely hairless. Large hands and feet with webbing between fingers and toes.”
“Feet? No fish tail?”
“No fish tail. No gills either. But definitely a... a being of the water. I have no doubt this child is one of the Elai.”
Reivan felt a thrill of excitement, but suppressed it out of habit. Thinkers did not allow their reason to be overtaken by emotion. It was too easy to convince oneself of something if one wanted to badly enough.
“Did this merchant say where he found her?”
“No. He complained that she’d cost a fortune and talked about her like she was an animal.” He shook his head in disgust. “She is no animal. She is a human. He is breaking our laws by buying and keeping her.”
“Enslaving an innocent.” She nodded. “Who is this trader?”
His nose wrinkled. “Devlein Wheelmaker. He is a Genrian. He changed his name before the war.”
Reivan nodded. “I know of him. I will bring this to the Second Voice’s attention later today and I’m sure she will have someone—”
“You have to do something
He stared at her earnestly, obviously deeply concerned for the safely of this sea girl. Reivan pressed her palms together and considered.
If the merchant believed the child was an animal he would reason that he hadn’t committed any crime. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t take the risk that others would come to the same conclusion as Kuerres. The punishment for enslaving an innocent was to be enslaved.
But leaving the Sanctuary to rescue a child wasn’t part of her duties, and she didn’t have the authority to search the man’s property. She needed Imenja’s help. Was this important enough to interrupt the Second Voice?
Taking a deep breath, she placed a hand on the pendant and closed her eyes.
She waited, then called again. Not having much Skill in the use of magic, it often took several attempts before she managed to get the pendant to work. Finally an answer came.
She related Kuerres’s story of the sea girl.
