1.19. The Dam

The saxophone glinted in the afternoon light.

Lisa beamed. “Yes fucking way.” She slid the neck of her saxophone into its slot and brought its mouthpiece to her lips.

Her cheeks puffed outward and a clarion cry emerged from the sax’s bell. Her fingers danced nimbly across its pearl-plated keys, summoning a waterfalling melody that crested in a trilled flourish and then dropped into a jaunty waltz rhythm.

Seth laughed in disbelief as she played. The corners of her lips curled up and her responding laugh jostled the tone momentarily. Then she stood up, braced her foot on the front bow, and kept playing, eyes screwed shut behind her sunglasses, hips shimmying to her own rhythm.

Seth glanced from her, back at the countryside, and did a double-take. “Lisa,” he said. “Bumpy road ahead. Lisa. Hey—”

The wagon lurched; Lisa staggered a step, caught herself and widened her stance to squeeze out a few last notes before the jostling caught up with her and she thumped onto her butt in the wagon.

Seth hastily pulled on the reins and slowed Demetrius’ pace. “Saints and Seraphs, al Ydris. Are you all right?”

Lisa smacked her lips. “The road can be hard on a traveling musician.”

The traffic was the first indicator that they were closing in on Fontana. Wagons laden with food and lumber, a flatbed hex engine stacked with glowing dynamos, messengers and pilgrims and huddled travelers. By the roadside, a woman selling warding charms against seraph emergence haggled with a stormy-browed murani teamster.

Off in the distance there came a rhythmic rattling sound, and the rolling echo of a bellowing horn.

“That a train?” Seth squinted into the gathering dusk. He still had the reins; Lisa was lounging, her feet up on the toe board.

She nodded. “Have you ever been on an artery train, Seth?”

“Never been important enough to even see one.”

“It’s a fabulous way to travel,” she said. “At the end of the year I’ll take you, if you like. You could winter with us at the Necropolis.”

“That could be nice,” he said. “Provided I don’t get snuffed out while I’m there.”

“Oh, no.” She held her hand up to the ebbing light, fingers spread. “This shade is too lovely. I couldn’t bear to see it desaturated. I’ll fend the bachelorettes off you with a boar spear.”

Seth halted the wagon as the road around them slowed to a crawl. Demetrius let out a judgmental hurf. Some unseen commotion was playing out a few spaces ahead of them.

A wiry man with an ascot stood atop his bulky land-schooner’s high platform. “What’s the delay, then?” he called, reedily.

A chorus of responses:

“Pile-up ahead.”

“Ahh, come on. I don’t have time for this. Sun’s going down.”

“Hey! Hey, move your seraph-fucking carriages!”

“Dad, sit down. Please.”

“Are you just stupid or are you blind?”

“Can you please just move this argument to the side of the road?”

“Pardon me, young Seth.” Lisa stood and hopped forward, from their borrowed wagon to the ascot fellow’s schooner. “Gents,” she announced. “Let’s get moving, shall we?”

Past Seth’s vision, a grating voice replied, “This sonofabitch doesn’t know how to drive a—”

“I’m afraid I don’t care who knows what, or who doesn’t.” Lisa swept her great black coat back, revealing the heavy pistol at her hip, and settled her hand atop its stock with matter-of-fact menace. “You’re obstructing an officer of the Sorcerer’s Legion in her business. I’ll have both your names, or I’ll have your obedience. Choose, please.”

Past Seth’s vision, the yelling ceased, and the turning, cobblestruck sounds of vehicles on the move began. Lisa smiled beatifically, patted the gobsmacked ascot man on the back, and stepped smartly back to Seth’s side.

“Apologies for the interruption,” she said. “The adventure continues.”

Seth nudged Demetrius forward. “I reckon you made a lot of friends just then.”

Lisa shrugged. “And two enemies.”

“Well, they were assholes.”

She chuckled. “This is why I stay with Annalise, when I can. She’s a patient woman, and I’m not.”

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She took her sunglasses off and hung them on her tunic’s neckline, and Seth had a momentary vision of his head, right where they were nestled, safe and restful and warm, with a pair of gloriously strong arms draped around him. He hurriedly shooed it away.

There was a dam in Seth’s head, a tall concrete edifice. Here, on the dry side, Annalise al Ydris was a friendly-but-intimidating boss. Someone who he hoped to impress, someone he’d like as a friend, yes; but ultimately best to keep his professionalism and his distance. He was a contractor in all but, well, contract. Something he really ought to amend.

The dam was to be watched zealously and studiously maintained. With every crack, every pebble falling out of it, Seth became increasingly aware that the current behind it was deep and monstrously swift; and if it ever broke, it was going to sweep him away completely, and he wasn’t sure how he could put it back together. He’d thought how big and scary the al Ydris matriarch was, how honed her body was for war and intimidation, might aid him in maintaining it. He had seen her kill, seen her coated in blood. To his disconcerted surprise, these remembrances were not helping him. On reflection, they might even be exacerbating the problem.