Salo tries to speak, to tell the apparition that none of this makes sense, but the smoke swallows his words before they leave his mouth. The glade is already becoming a distant memory. His dwindling awareness coalesces around the apparition’s voice.
Time is not on our side. You must walk the path your mother would have walked. She was to be my last chance; now, my hope is with you. Find me. Remember.
And all becomes dark.
PART 3
THE ENCHANTRESS
ISA
MUSALODI
Storm craft—magic of the elements
Channeling the moon’s essence into artificially inducing weather phenomena, such as winds, frost, and lightning. Used by rainmakers to irrigate fields.
—excerpt from Kelafelo’s notes
“Ah, daylight. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It is, Aago.”
“Even so, it is a lie.”
“A lie? But how can it be a lie?”
“Because now the stars are hidden from you, an illusion that might tempt you to think you’re bigger and more important than you really are. The stars put things into perspective.”
14: The Enchantress
Yonte Saire, the Jungle City—Kingdom of the Yontai
The Enchantress is entertaining a textile merchant in her parlor when the crimson jewel on her necklace vibrates. Casually, she rests a hand on the jewel. I’ll be there in a moment, she thinks to it, and the vibrations still.
She goes on to take a sip of shaah from a porcelain cup, all the while watching her guest from above the teacup’s rim. He’s perusing the squares of different fabrics laid out on the table sitting between them. The look in his eye is the kind a starving man might inflict on a roasted sirloin steak he suspects might be poisoned.
The Enchantress smirks inwardly and takes another sip of her spiced tea. The merchant, a member of the Yontai’s jackal clan—one of the kingdom’s eleven clans of KiYonte-speaking people—is an insider in his headman’s court. She lured him here on the pretext of discussing possible cooperation in a new business venture; judging from the wariness with which he examines the cloths in front of him, he’s likely realized that there’s considerably more at stake than money.
Finally he lifts his gaze off the table and slowly shakes his head. “I have been in the textile industry for three decades, but I have never seen anything like this.”
He caresses one of the sample fabrics, a square of pearlescent silk with subtle fractal patterns that move and pulse with light. Each of the samples in front of him, in a range of different textiles, has its own design of moving patterns—spinning flowers and geometric shapes, birds in flight and animals on the hunt. No such cloths have ever been seen on this side of the Jalama. Not until now.
“Truly, it’s like they’re woven of light,” the merchant breathes, but then he retracts his hand from the table with an astute look in his eye. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I struggle to believe you’ll simply hand me the blueprints for the looms. Surely you’ll want something in return.”
The Enchantress waves his concern away. “I’m only indulging my curiosity, nothing more. I adore your textiles, you see—the patterns, the textures. I’m excited to see what you’ll do with this technology.” She has mastered the art of speaking the local language like a woman from a northern tribe, so her accent is appropriately guttural.
“But why choose me?” the merchant says. “I’m not the biggest player in this industry. I only sell locally. My biggest competitors, on the other hand, export to all the Redlands. Why not go to them?”
She is not surprised that he should ask her this. He’s a smart man and an even smarter merchant, and men like that see everything in the binary of give-and-take; one without the other is either a fraudulent scheme or, worse, charity. “Your biggest competitor is Saire owned, is it not?”
The merchant grunts. “The elephants own all the banks, so it’s easy for them to raise capital. But they’re not as generous to everyone else. Doesn’t make it easy to compete with them.”
“No, it does not.” The Enchantress gently sets her teacup on the table. “But don’t you think it’s time that changed? In fact, I suspect the winds of change are already stirring, and who knows: perhaps an intelligent man like yourself could stand to gain if he positioned himself correctly.”
By his smile and the sharpness that briefly flashes across his eyes, the merchant reads the subtext loud and clear. “I’d welcome such a change with open arms, Your Highness, but I’m a practical man, and as any practical man would tell you, not even the strongest winds can move mountains.” The ruling clan is well protected, and so long as that protection remains, nothing anyone does will make a difference.
“You’d be surprised,” the Enchantress says, making sure to meet the merchant’s eyes. Do my bidding, and you won’t have to worry. “But we digress.” Breaking eye contact, she picks up her shaah and sips. “I’d like to get this technology out there, and I think your firm would be a great place to start. Of course, it would require a significant investment on your part, at least at first. I know how costly it can be to procure enchanting services from the House of Axles, and the charms these looms will require are especially complex. But with some guts and perseverance”—the Enchantress smiles—“I think this could be quite lucrative for you in the long run.” And then she lets her smile falter slightly for effect. “However, if you feel you’re not up for the challenge . . .”
“Nonsense.” The textile merchant sits up straighter, and the look in his eye says, I will do anything you want. “No one is more up for it than I, Your Highness.”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll have the blueprints delivered to you and you alone.” With that, she rises to her feet. “Now I must beg your pardon. I’d walk you out, but I have an urgent matter to attend to.”
He is all smiles as he gets up from his sofa. “It’s no worry at all, Your Highness.” He bows graciously. “I’ll see myself out.”
She leaves him in the parlor, feeling satisfied with how the meeting progressed.
He isn’t the first merchant she has offered a significant edge over a competitor of the ruling clan; she has offered designs for superior climate control, superior refrigeration, carriages with superior suspension—all in strict secrecy and to well-established merchants who hold sway in the courts of the headmen she seeks to influence. The textile merchant, for example, will now be an indirect but powerful link to the Jackal, whom she knows harbors no love for the elephants.
The groundwork is almost complete, but the merchant was right. I cannot change things if I have mountains standing in my way.
Even if she breaks the ruling clan’s hold on the kingdom’s economy, it won’t matter unless the true source of their power is also pulled from underneath their feet. And that is why I need help.
She wanted to do this on her own, to prove to herself and to everyone who’s ever underestimated her that she is far from the victim she once was. But her pride cannot blind her from the greater objective. In the end, winning the Great War must supersede every other concern.