Free Our Lady of the Islands by Jay Lake, Shannon Page Page B

silk and dye samples, and a small bottle of kiesh . He’d considered the Sunward wine he had picked up recently, but rejected it; the vintage was too thick and heavy for a warm night. Too cloying. He knew Sian would prefer the kiesh .
    Reikos was neither young, nor foolish; he did not deceive himself that he was in love. For one thing, no matter what marital arrangements might obtain, Sian’s husband would certainly object. She had made that much clear the first time their negotiations had moved to the daybed, three years past: her time on Viel was her own business, but it stayed here, in this townhouse.
    Which suited Reikos as well. In choosing the seafaring life, Reikos had given up the notion of wife and family and home — and with very little hesitation. A lifetime of such broad travel had brought many fine mares into his stable. It was all lovely, but not love. Still, he had come to favor his time with Sian more than most.
    Even a seafaring man likes some routine and comfort in his life. The intensity of his disappointment at finding her gone surprised him. It was not just the physical need, though certainly he’d looked forward to satisfying that. There were a dozen establishments on his path back to Fair Passage that would all too happily supply that service. No. This was …
    Where could she be?
    Reikos waited at the doorway, watching a spotted civet nose around the yards, until an armed patrol had passed by the end of the street twice more. If he were still here the third time they passed, they would likely come and ask him unwanted questions.
    He was not going to get an explanation tonight. He would speak with Sian on the morrow. For now, there was nothing left to do but sigh and begin the long walk back to his ship.

Sian woke to the blinding light of morning. She could open her eyes. With that realization came a rush of dread and anger as she remembered the events of last night.
    She sat up gingerly in the boat, cringing in anticipation of pain … which did not come. Straightening further, she blinked and looked around. A flight of graceful white pelicans flew by in single file just off shore. The tiny, weather-beaten vessel had clearly drifted during the night, washing up on the flat, muddy beach of an island densely overgrown with mangrove and scrub palm. The tide, it seemed, was out; the boat leaned against a mussel-covered boulder.
    Still nothing hurt. She looked down again, examining her arms, then her legs. Though her once-elegant silks were ruined — filthy, bloodied and torn — her body was clear of any injury. Where had the wounds gone? The cuts and abrasions? The massive bruises that should certainly have been there? She reached up with both hands to touch her face, but again found no pain, no scabs or swellings. Yet she remembered with such dreadful clarity …
    Shaking her head in confusion, Sian rose carefully and stepped out of the boat, grimacing as her feet sunk ankle-deep into the mud. She stretched her legs, turning her head this way and that. Still no pain; not even any stiffness. She took a few steps, looking around to get her bearings. In the distance, she picked out the telltale Age of Giants stumps and the tall bridge between The Well and Three Cats. She had drifted quite a ways in the night. It would take a while to get back to …
    Oh no! She had missed her dinner with the Hanchu traders!
    She laughed aloud. She had also been kidnapped, beaten severely and set adrift, escaping, somehow, with her life — and she was worried about a business meeting?
    Then she recalled the other meeting she had missed. Reikos must be beside himself.
    “Damnation,” she muttered, wondering how everything might be rescheduled, her mind turning reflexively to practicalities, despite all that had happened.
    Or was still happening … wasn’t it? Why did she not ache?
    In fact, her neck and lower back felt better than they had in years of sleeping in soft beds. Perhaps something in her head had been