“it appears you’ve now become a story. At least, in Colemaigne.” She pointed to the crowd in the Dragon Bowl, many of them with their arms raised, some jumping up and down, others reciting, others jostling.
Just then another group edged around them in the lane and hurried to the crowded beam.
“Yes, quite a story,” the woman muttered. “You are performers. In the manner of Bardsham, no doubt.” Soter’s brows arched, but he said nothing. “If so, coming here may prove difficult for you—at least I would have said so until today, as there is a law here that bans all such theater. Did you not know?”
“What?” Soter looked up at her. “That can’t be! This was the greatest venue—”
“Not since Bardsham’s final performance have any been allowed here. He was the last. Disorder followed so close upon his heel that the one became tied to the other. He got off this span, but we could not. So either you don’t travel this spiral of the Great Bridge very often, or you were last here with him.”
“How are those two things of necessity mutually exclusive?” asked Soter, and Diverus thought, He’s angered by her, too.
Overlooking Leodora, the woman replied, “I very much doubt they’re different at all.” She raised her face, and through the veil Diverus caught a glimpse of her features: austere, handsome, and hard, though her eyes betrayed some tenderness. “She needs somewhere to rest, and I expect you do, as well. Please come with me—bring her with you, and my men will carry your puppets.”
Soter’s brow furrowed. “How do you—”
“A long story, dear sir, which I’ll willingly relate to you later—after you’ve settled in.”
“Settled in?” Diverus and Soter exchanged a look.
“I own a theater. Like so much of Colemaigne, it was long ago blighted. Yet this very day and, I suspect, with thanks to this girl, it has been resurrected. If there’s to be a performance, you will of course make your debut there.”
“Who are you, madam?” Soter asked, clearly troubled. Diverus likewise could not figure out the cause of his own ire.
“For the moment, your benefactress. Please, bring her.” She turned with a dramatic flourish and led the way back along the cramped lane. Her servants stepped aside to let her pass.
Soter and Diverus lifted Leodora from the black case. She was indeed as limp as if dead. Diverus wrapped his arms around her legs and led the way.
As they shuffled clumsily past, the servants melted into the shadows of a doorway, standing strangely still. Soter slowed to stare at them until Diverus almost pulled Leodora out of his grip. Ahead, the woman had rounded a corner and disappeared.
Hastily, they hobbled after her.
Soter said to Diverus, “How long did you sleep when it happened to you?”
“I don’t know,” Diverus replied over his shoulder. “I was asleep before, and never did awaken till after. I don’t know how long was the time between. Hours, I thought, but it might have been days. I was very confounded.”
“Mmmm.” Soter huffed along a moment before asking more quietly, “What was the thing you found in the bowl?”
Diverus glanced back. “A pendant, on a chain. It was beside her, in her hand. It might be what they gave her, the gods.” As he spoke he was recalling all the containers strewn in the bowl on Vijnagar when he’d awakened, and the madness they had seemed to induce in those who handled them. Of course the scrambling magpies in that Dragon Bowl so long ago might well have been mad already. He kept the woman in sight and tried not to worry that Leodora might never be herself again.
The woman led them to a wider avenue that angled away from the seawall lane and into the center of Colemaigne. Odd spade-shaped trees grew in pots along the middle of the avenue. The area bustled with life. There were carts and strollers, and outdoor tables; but the throng had gathered loosely in the avenue in front of certain buildings. They stared up, gestured, as if at holy shrines.
All the buildings were well appointed—not just the ones at which people gawked. The façades looked freshly polished, ornamented with colorful bright new awnings, umbrellas, and penants. Some had half-round balconies above the shops, of which every variety was represented—markets, tailors, boot makers, drapers, cafés, and more within the short distance Diverus and Soter walked. The woman soon turned into a narrower street.
They were moving deeper into the core of Colemaigne. Unlike the few spans Diverus had