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CHAPTER ELEVEN
Silver

‘There were some wonderful places up near the foothills. Smaller, but with sweeping views. Closer to hunting.’ Carson added the last in a lower voice, knowing that hunting was not really one of the criteria that topped Sedric’s list. He turned his eyes toward the hills and cliffs that backed the city and stared wistfully at their forested flanks.

‘Closer to the wild lands. And farther from everything else,’ Sedric pointed out with a wry smile.

‘From the river, perhaps,’ Carson countered. ‘But closer to everything else that we need right now to live independently. The hunting is good in the wooded hills; the dragons prefer to hunt the more open lands. And there are trees that may bear nuts or fruit. There will almost certainly be wild berries. The supplies that Captain Leftrin brought back from Cassarick won’t last for ever. We shouldn’t be waiting until they run out before we worry about it. We should be stocking up on meat now, and scouting for other food sources.’

‘I think I’ve heard this before,’ Sedric said quietly, and Carson suddenly stopped in mid-breath.

Then he laughed. ‘I know. I say the same things over and over again. Usually to you, because I sometimes think you’re the only one listening to me. The others act like children, thinking only of this day, this hour.’

‘The others listen, too. They’re just enjoying a brief respite from daily hunts and work on the dock and every other task you urge them to undertake. They are young, Carson. And suddenly they have tea and jam and ship’s biscuit again. Give them a few more days, and then I’ll help you persuade some of them to go on an extended hunt again. But for now, can’t we take a bit of time for ourselves? There’s a house I want to show you. I think you’d like it.’

‘A house?’ Carson cocked his head and grinned. ‘Or a mansion?’

It was Sedric’s turn to shrug ruefully. ‘Well, any house in Kelsingra is bound to seem a mansion to you. The Rain Wilds taught all of you to build small. But there’s a street of houses I walked through a few days ago that intrigued me. And yes, they are large, even by Bingtown standards. But the one I went into had garden rooms in it, with transparent ceilings. So, although we might be a long way from the forest or foothills, we might be able to grow food right in our home.’

‘If we had seed— Oh, very well. Let’s look at it,’ Carson conceded as Sedric shot him a long-suffering look. ‘I suppose you are right, and Leftrin did say that he did put in an order for seed and chickens and so on. I just never imagined myself tending a garden. Or raising birds to eat.’

‘I never imagined myself as an Elderling,’ Sedric countered. ‘Carson, I think we are going to have a lot of years to explore many kinds of lives. We may farm, or raise cattle …’

‘Or hunt.’

‘Or hunt. Here. I think this is the right street. Kelsingra is so big and so spread out. Every time I think I’ve learned the city, I find another street to explore. Up this way, I think. Or was it downhill from here?’

Carson chuckled tolerantly. ‘Did you notice if there was a view? If so, that would be uphill.’ He halted and watched Sedric look up and down the street. He straightened the collar of his tunic. He had to admit that the clothing Sedric had chosen for him was comfortable. And warm. And weighed less than his leathers. He glanced down at himself, at his legs clad in a blue that reminded him of a parrot’s wings. Elderling garb. At least the boots were brown. They were so light, he felt as if he had nothing on, and yet his feet weren’t cold and the stones underfoot didn’t jab him. The wide brown belt he wore was of Elderling make, as was the sheathed knife he wore on it. The blade wasn’t metal. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it had been razor sharp from the moment he drew it from the sheath and it had stayed that way. It looked like blue, baked pottery to him more than anything else. Yet another Elderling mystery.

The more the keepers explored the city, the more artefacts they found. True, most of the houses and shops and buildings were empty, as if the people who had lived here had packed and left. But in some sections of the city, they were finding mansions and homes that held all sorts of Elderling items. Most items of wood had crumbled to dust, and scrolls and books had likewise decayed. But some of their fabrics had survived, especially of the sort that his tunic was made from, and it was not unusual any more to see keepers ringed and necklaced as if they were wealthy Bingtown Traders. It made Carson uneasy, though he had difficulty expressing why. Just as deciding which house to take over as their own made him uncomfortable. He and Sedric had been sharing chambers above the dragon baths, and even these had seemed a sybaritic luxury to him. He wasn’t sure that he understood why Sedric wanted a large and elaborate home. But he deserved one, if that was what he wanted.

He glanced over at him and had to smile. Sedric looked so intent, as alert as any hunter, as he prowled down the street studying the grand houses that fronted it. The move to Kelsingra had agreed with him. Carson was a fastidious man about cleanliness, when such a state was possible, but Sedric elevated it to an art form. His hair gleamed gold, touched with the metallic sheen that Relpda had awarded to every part of him. To his eyes and his skin, his nails and even his hair she had lent coppery warmth. Today Sedric had chosen to echo that gleam with metallic blues in his tunic and hose, while his belt and boots were black. The Elderling garb wore so well, Carson thought no one needed more than one extra change of clothing. But Sedric had appropriated a rainbow for his wardrobe and took unutterable joy in varying his garb, sometimes several times a day. Even if Carson did not understand his partner’s infatuation with clothing, it did not diminish his delight in watching him exercise it. Sedric felt Carson’s scrutiny and turned to the hunter with a questioning look.

‘What?’ he demanded.

Carson’s smile widened. ‘Just you. That’s all.’

A blush suffused Sedric’s face, rendering him both more boyish and yet more charming. And that he blushed because he was overwhelmed by Carson’s compliment only magnified the effect for the hunter. He jostled Sedric with an elbow and then put an arm around him. ‘Which house?’ he asked him genially, knowing that if, at that moment, Sedric declared he wished to live in all of them at once, he’d have done his best to make it possible.

‘Wait!’ Sedric said sharply. He shrugged out from under Carson’s arm and strode briskly away. For a moment, Carson felt hurt; then he recognized the intensity of Sedric’s stalking. An odd prickle of premonition ran up his own spine as he stared around.

This was a district of elaborate houses, and almost every intersection boasted a fountain or a statue or plaza of some sort. Any of the structures were palatial by Carson’s standards, but Sedric was moving steadily downhill, ignoring their allure. He strode through a small square with a statue of a woman pouring water and turned deliberately into a street of humbler houses. The thoroughfares went from broad avenues fit for a parade of dragons to wide but winding streets and the buildings changed to a more human scale as they moved along it. Odd. Carson had never imagined that such simple dwellings might attract his peacock lover. Sedric moved strangely, peering from side to side, not like a man who considers the houses he passes but as if trying to find something he’d lost. No. Like a man who had lost his way, Carson suddenly realized, and was looking for a landmark. He lifted his own eyes and scanned the area. Like all of Kelsingra, it was built of stone, and here a bluish-grey stone predominated. He noticed nothing noteworthy. Cautiously, he opened his awareness of the city and let the impressions of Elderlings long dead touch his thoughts.

He had always felt a bit squeamish about this aspect of being an Elderling. A private man himself, it felt strange to wallow in the personal memories of others. The other keepers seemed to take it in their stride, and personally he did not blame those who chose to enjoy the sensual memories of another time. In such a small population, it was better for them to satisfy their needs that way than to jostle and fight for the available partners. And he knew there was valuable information to be gained in sharing memories from the stones – technical information on the workings of the city in addition to knowledge of the ways of dragons and the surrounding lands. He knew that Sedric enjoyed tapping the memory-stones in the same way that he had enjoyed going to plays or listening to minstrels. The stones of the city were full of stories, some dramatic, some poignant. But no other part of the city had felt the way this one did. It was quiet. No memories stirred here, no brief waft of scent or echo of someone’s laughter from a long-ago summer day. Here the city was mute, hoarding its secrets in silence. Sedric glanced back at him, bafflement on his face, and Carson sensed his partner had just shared the same realization.

‘What are you looking for?’ he called to Sedric, and his words bounced back to him from the silent stone.

‘I’m not sure.’ Sedric stared all around him like a man wakening from a dream. ‘The streets just suddenly seemed very familiar. As if I’d been here before, and often. For an important reason. But every time I try to remember that part of the memory, it fades out of reach. But in an odd way. The Elderling memories I’ve taken from stone usually stay with me clearly. But this is like fog …’

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