“WILL YOU SHOW me what is in that case?”
“I will.”
Cedar opens the case where it lays on the barren apartment floor, revealing the instrument within.
“Where will you go now?” Cypress says, her eyes fixed on the open case.
Cedar’s mind is moving at the pace of a stampeding herd, but one decision is clear in the chaos.
“To the City of the Palace of Rubies.”
“It will be nearly impossible for you to see Ash. His father forbids him any visitors,” Cypress says.
Cedar rearranges her few meager belongings around the cello before latching it shut. “I’m not going to see Ash. I am going to see the King.”
“King Orion?” Cypress echoes. “That might be just as difficult, but I will do what I can. He is not very receptive to hearing anything regarding Ash, and you would risk arrest.”
Cedar closes the cello case without a word.
“I know you think Ash will not compromise his beliefs for you. I think you are wrong. He will do everything he can to keep you safe,” Cypress says as she lowers her body to the floor. She sits with her muscular legs stretched out on the floor, her back leaning against the wall. Cedar sits back on her heels and scoots toward the wall until she is sitting next to Cypress.
Cedar’s mind wanders back to long-ago conversations. “Tell him, I am acting according to my principles. Tell him to remember our pact.”
“Your pact?” Cypress says.
“We promised to never ask the other to do something contrary to their beliefs. I believe in what I’m doing.” Cedar looks at the floor. “I’m not so naïve that I don’t know what could happen to me. Most of the time, my path is so clear, it feels worth the risk. The rest of the time, I have to remind myself that this is the decision I made, and try to stick it out.” She looks up at Cypress. “How do you silence the doubts?”
Cypress shrugs. “I have nothing to lose. Even my life matters little to me. That’s what I like about you, Cedar. You do not hate your life, yet you are willing to risk it for something. There are not many with such a strong desire to live who are willing to die.”
“The things I am willing to die for are the same that make life worth living.”
There is silence.
“I doubted you, in the dining room. You struck me then as a complete nitwit. When it matters most, you are more capable than the best soldiers I know,” Cypress says.
“I hope you are right.” Cedar exhales as though trying to release a weight.
“Can I see the letter the Governor wrote for you?” Cypress says.
Cedar reaches absently into her pocket and passes Cypress the note.
“It is the type of document that could get you an audience with King Orion.” Cypress hands the note back to her. “It will also make your travels easier. If anyone gives you trouble, show them that note.” Cypress stands and walks to the door.
“Where are you going?” Cedar scrambles to her feet.
“You no longer need me. That letter will do more for you than I could. I have some business to tend, in the east.”
With that, Cypress is gone.
~ . ~ . ~
ASH STANDS RAMROD straight, ignoring the protests in his aching body. He stands in front of his father in cuffs sporting a black eye. This is one of many escape attempts.
“What will it take to make you see sense?” King Orion says.
It is the first time his father has agreed to see him since Ash was placed under house arrest.
Ash returns his father’s glare. “Lift the hunt for Slate, Finch, and Cedar.”
“What reason would I have to do that?” King Orion throws up his arms.
“I will stop trying to escape,” Ash says.
“I am not at the end of my resources yet.” He snaps his fingers, and his assistant comes forward. “Double the guard, have boards put across the windows. Station a guard within his rooms. If he escapes again, any guard on duty forfeits a month of pay.”
“You can’t do that,” Ash says.
“I can do what I want, especially to save your life.” King Orion begins to pace.
“Saving my life is exactly what Cedar has done.”
The King stops and turns to him. “I am told she is practically half your size.”
Ash knows Cedar’s exact size relative to his body but does not correct the exaggeration. He tells his father the story of his illness, and of how Cedar cared for him.
“There is pressure…we can only expect more of his mercenaries if I try to lift the search. We are being closely watched. I can only promise…” King Orion looks over his shoulder, as though expecting to see spies hovering. He shakes his head and leans close. “I will not hand her over to Koshluk, nor will she be arrested by her countrymen.” His voice hardens. “Provided you do not attempt another escape.”
“Thank God,” Ash says.
King Orion straightens. “I cannot speak for King Marcus and his mercenaries. And I will not do the same for Slate and Finch.” King Orion glares at Ash again, as though he is to blame for it all. He turns on his heel and leaves the room.
Their agreement does not stop King Orion from following through with the extra precautions. A workman comes later that day to board his windows, shutting out the natural warmth and light.
Ash is left to endure the weight of having failed the recently resurrected resistance. With Finch in hiding and himself in isolation, there is no one left to lead them. Still, Cedar will be safer, if not entirely out of harm’s way. Even that small victory feels worth every black eye and broken rib.
~ . ~ . ~
CEDAR KEEPS THE letter from the Governor tied against her skin under her clothes. She takes the canoe she and Cypress had journeyed in from the midland forest. The Governor’s letter grants her unquestioned admittance past the first of many monitored crossings.
The river road is busy enough that there are always several boats in sight ahead of her and some behind. She is passed several times by motorboats or tandem canoes and kayaks. She frequently passes a slow paddler or a solitary fishing boat. The quickest and most reliable way to the City of the Palace of Rubies is this highway of water, but the busy river is a lot to take in. She yearns for the solitude of former routes.
Inns, restaurants, and stores line the banks of the river. Cedar ties her boat to the dock of a grand-looking inn. She hops out from the boat and walks past the gold-painted columns of the inn.
There is a considerably shabbier inn a little farther in.
She has a little money Cypress left for her. The scents of street food waft over her, tempting her to try the freshly caught battered fish fried in oil. Once she has finished her meal, she licks her finger and gathers up the crispy fried bits that remain on the paper plate.
She spends a few more coins at another vendor in exchange for some cured meats and bread but opts for sleeping in her canoe. She falls asleep to the gentle rocking of the boat and the occasional jerk against the rope that secures her to the dock.
She leaves early the next morning. Before she is out of sight of the grand inn on the shore, she catches up to a dignified older gentleman who is bailing out a waterlogged canoe. With pale skin and light hair and eye colour, he looks like a foreigner among the darker coloring of those native to Danbarrah.
“Can I help?”
“I’ve never understood the fascination of traveling by boats in this country,” he grumbles, tossing out a bucket of water. Cedar pulls her boat alongside his.
“Can you hop into my boat?” she says.
The man tosses his paddle in first, then hauls himself over the edge into her canoe. Cedar cringes when he scrambles over the cello case and breathes a sigh of relief when he finally settles in the front of the boat.
Cedar leaps into the waterlogged canoe. She balances herself, a foot on either edge, and rocks back and forth. As she gains momentum, water begins to slosh out over the sides. She continues until all that is left is a glistening, wet sheen.
“This is a new boat, if you can believe it.” A scowl descends on the man’s features.
Cedar has no trouble believing him. The boat gleams from the polish that will require many more miles of travel before losing its luster. Cedar ties a rope from her boat onto the damaged one and scrambles back into her canoe. She paddles about, collecting his waterproofed belongings that bob in a swirling eddy.
He gestures helplessly towards the shore. “I need to be on my way now, but where will I find someone to repair this boat this early in the morning?”
“I may be able to help,” Cedar says. She paddles to the shore, and the man helps her haul both boats onto the grassy bank. She turns over the damaged boat and runs her fingers along the boat, examining the scratch that let in the water.
She scans the landscape, looking for a pine tree. She retrieves a small knife from her belongings and walks up the gentle incline to a tree that stretches for the sky beside a small shop that has fishing lures in the windows. She collects bits of sap on the tip of her knife. She returns to the boat and uses her knife to work the tree sap into the crack.
She steps back and examines her work.
The man looks at the patch job. “Do you think it will hold?”
Cedar thinks of the canoe she had grown up with, and the many leaks she has patched over the years. She has developed a knack for patching boats. “Where are you heading?”
“My home is near the coast. I’ll follow the river towards the Palace of Rubies. I have important meetings and I will need to keep a steady pace.”
“I can follow you, in case you need help again.”
The man assesses her tiny frame.
“I have another suggestion. I will hand my boat over to the owner of the inn for safekeeping and will pay you to return with me in your boat. We can make it to the end of the highway faster if we paddle together.”
She could reach Ash sooner.
“I’ll do it. But I don’t need your money,” she says.
He gives her his name, Justice Carpenter, then leaves to speak with an innkeeper. Cedar settles herself into the stern. Carpenter joins her moments later, followed by the innkeeper who takes the damaged boat with him.
Moments later, they are on their way. Cedar navigates the river highway with practiced ease. She does not care to fill awkward silences with chatter, so she retreats into her thoughts.
“What takes you to the ruby city?” Justice Carpenter breaks the silence.
Cedar takes a moment to replay his question in her mind.
“I am looking for work.” She decides to keep as close to the truth as she can. It is practical to look for work, regardless of her real aim. She cannot afford to keep herself fed for long.
“What sort of work?”
“I am good with my hands. I have some experience with building.”
“What have you built?”
Cedar is indifferent to the man’s skepticism. Small talk is easy enough when all that is needed are casual answers. “I’ve done small things for my grandma’s house and…others. This boat was run down when I found it, and I repaired it and built this paddle.”
Carpenter’s paddle stills in the air as he looks about, examining the boat. Cedar imagines he is wondering whether it will hold. She sees him look at the paddle in his hand, and examine it closely. The one he uses is the one Ash made, but she does not want to talk about Ash with a stranger.
Carpenter’s words once again drag her from her thoughts. “You have built it well.”
This second portion of the river is quieter than the first, but there is never a moment where Cedar feels removed from civilization. Inns, shops, and homes line the banks and the river is full of fishermen, swimmers, and travelers. That night, Justice Carpenter directs her to the inn where he will be sleeping.
“I am more than happy to pay for a room for you,” he says.
Cedar shakes her head, “Thank you, but I prefer to sleep outdoors.”
He leaves her with her thoughts of what she will do when she reaches the southern city.
~ . ~ . ~
CEDAR IS AWAKE when Carpenter walks down the carefully manicured paths of the inn to the dock. He greets her with a friendly smile and an apology. “I am afraid I gave a most unsavoury impression yesterday. I am unsettled when I am away from home, and am feeling more myself as we get closer.”
“It’s alright. Traveling puts us all out of sorts,” Cedar says.
She has less opportunity to withdraw to her thoughts this day, as Carpenter seems determined to alter her opinion of him. Cedar listens warily as he talks, especially when she learns he is a diplomat from Koshluk. She eyes the cello that lies in the case between them.
She finds herself softening towards him as his love for both Koshluk and Danbarrah becomes obvious. He speaks of the natural beauty in each country and the spirit and resilience of the people.
Both countries struggle with poverty. He is wealthy himself but is more attuned to the struggles of those who live in poverty than she expected. He has only one son, who means more than the world to him. He says nothing of the son’s mother, except to say she was born and raised in Danbarrah.
“I spoke with my son last night, over the phone. He is a craftsman, a woodworker. His pieces are highly sought after. A valuable employee left, and he is overwhelmed by the work he has committed to completing.”
Cedar listens to the man’s chatter, more comfortable in his presence than she had been yesterday, but still contributing little to the conversation.
She can see the palace in the distance. It is constructed on the highest ground in the surrounding area. Its ruby-red stones glint in the sunlight.
When they arrive at a maze of docks, she finds a place to tie her boat. As she secures the rope, a man approaches them with a device. He nods with deference to Justice Carpenter, but asks her to state her name and where she is from. He taps his device as she answers his questions. She gives Eastern Danbarrah as her hometown. She can feel Carpenter’s curiosity when she borrows Calla’s name for her own, but he says nothing.
“And what is your business here?” the man says.
“I am looking for work.”
The man taps his device, seemingly unsurprised.
Carpenter remains nearby as she answers the man’s questions. Afterward, he turns to the clerk. “Store her boat in my own boat house.” He turns back to Cedar. “Boats are forever going missing from the dock. It will be safer there.”
“We have boat houses of our own,” the clerk says. He glances back at her. “For a fee.”
Carpenter slaps the clerk on the back in a friendly manner. “My good man, the people who can afford to pay your security fees can afford to replace their boats.”
Carpenter motions for Cedar to follow him. Cedar grasps her bulky case, struggling to maneuver it through the crowd.
Carpenter is a broad-shouldered man, and creates an opening in the crowd. Cedar moves close behind before the crowd closes in once again.
The street is congested with vehicles and people. Cedar rests her case on the ground, never releasing her hold. She takes in the busy pace of the streets. Where will she go from here?
Carpenter hails a taxi, and motions to her. She picks up her case and moves towards him. “You might as well ride with me to the centre of town. Accommodations will be easier to find. Do you mind swinging by the shop with me first?” he says.
“Not at all. T-thank you,” she says.
He opens the car door and motions her inside. She ducks in, sinking into soft seats. She has never even sat on a couch. This vehicle is the strangest luxury, aside its off-putting scent.
She keeps her bulky case with her there, and Carpenter goes around the car to the front seat. The moment the car lurches forward, nausea thickens Cedar’s head and throat.
Carpenter chuckles when he looks in the rearview mirror.
“First time in a car?” he says.
“Yes.” She pitches forward with the abrupt stop of the taxi and is vaguely aware of a man shouting obscenities at them before the driver resumes his careening pace through the densely packed streets.
“That crank will open your window.” Carpenter gestures towards her door, and she manages to locate the crank and turn it. The air, tinged as it is with all the strange odours of a major seaport, washes over her with its many mysteries, but she inhales deeply. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the seat, determined not to move an inch until the taxi comes to a stop.
She opens her eyes when they stop. The smells are distinctly different from Sapphire City, though she struggles to identify them. The sounds of the city are all too similar.
She opens her door and maneuvers her case out as gracefully as she can while her head spins and her feet feel unsteady. She staggers over to where Carpenter waits near the door of a large tin-clad building.
“Welcome to my son’s shop.” Carpenter opens the door to the building and gestures her in. She steps into a large, clean room. Cabinets and chairs of many styles and sizes line the walls.
She sets down her case near the door and moves farther inside the room. A whispering fills her ears and she runs her fingers over the varnished, gleaming wood of a cabinet. The wood in the room feels alive, and she is transported back to her living, breathing woods at home.
“These are my son’s. He is an exceptional craftsman, is he not?” His eyes gleam with pride.
Cedar can only nod, breathless in wonder.
“No one comes near his abilities.” Carpenter looks around. “Where is he? Wait here.” He strides through a door. The hum of machines carries through the opened door. Cedar barely notices him leaving, captivated by a particular rose-coloured wardrobe that whispers louder than any of the rest.