After her meal, Infidel got dressed in the clothes Aurora had found. Though the tan britches and striped shirt were tailored for a man, I thought she looked fantastic. Her sculpted perfection makes her enticing even in peasant clothing, her features unadorned by make-up or jewelry. Royalty breeds for beauty. I can only imagine that, dressed in lacy gowns in a palace, her face framed by pearls and gold, she must be breathtaking.
Aurora created a mirror of ice for Infidel to use to fix what was left of her hair. She had little choice but to crop what was left, trimming away the frizzled ends. While I’d always liked her long silver tresses, I had to admit this new style had a certain charm. It highlighted the graceful lines of her smooth, slender neck, and drew attention to her enigmatic gray eyes.
I wondered where she would go after she was done with her hair; I was certain she wouldn’t simply wait for Relic. Then, fate provided her with a destination. Far out at the mouth of the harbor, dark shapes appeared, a long line of humps rising and falling in the water. At first, I thought it was an enormous serpent, but as it drew closer I could see that it was, in fact, a pod of a dozen whales, enormous blue-gray beasts big as ships. Long strands of woven seaweed trailed from elaborate harnesses that hung over their broad, flat faces. A crew of mermen swam beside them, urging them on, prodding the slower ones with tridents, and trumpeting long, low commands through horns fashioned from giant conch shells.
Behind it all, towed by the mighty sea beasts, was an enormous barge, waves breaking against its squat frame. From the center of the barge a single mast thrust into the air, sporting a banner of white and the silhouette of a black swan.
Aurora rose, shielding her eyes, staring at the barge like it was an apparition. The new arrival looked much like the old Black Swan barge, only larger and obviously newer. It now rose three stories instead of two. One by one, the whales were set free of their harnesses as momentum and tides carried the vessel forward. The mermen exceeded even the Wanderers in their understanding of water currents. The barge came to a halt mere feet from a newly built dock the Wanderers had finished only hours before. A crew of men leapt from the barge to lash it into place. Anchors splashed all around the vessel, sinking down to the mud. The Black Swan had come home.
Aurora jumped down from the boat, quickly clearing the tangled mangroves and reaching the mudflats. The ground crackled as she froze a long, rock-hard path across the mire. Infidel leapt to follow her, slipping the second she hit the icy mud. She grimaced as she waved her arms for balance, looking around for a less slippery path. She jumped toward a river-pygmy canoe floating about twenty feet out in shallow water. The two pygmies currently occupying the canoe toppled into the bay as Infidel landed in the center of the craft. The canoe spun, capsizing as the lip sank beneath the water, but Infidel had already kicked off again, flying toward a slanted piling that jutted from the water. She barely touched down before she sprang again, leap-frogging her way toward her destination. When she reached the Black Swan, she leaned against a wall, crossing her arms. She looked nonchalant as Aurora climbed up onto the deck.
“What took you so long?” she asked.
Aurora didn’t respond, racing past Infidel toward the main door of the new Black Swan. There were no guards in place to stop the ogress from bursting through the door. The main room had more gambling tables than the old one, and the whole place smelled of pine varnish. It hadn’t yet acquired the funk of ten thousand cigar-smoking men and the heavily perfumed women who clung to their arms. Infidel followed as Aurora vaulted over the bar and down the hall beyond. At the end of the passage she looked ready to throw her shoulder against the door there.
Before she could make a move, the door opened.
The thick, cloying scent of potpourri poured out into the hallway. Aurora stepped into the dimly lit room with Infidel at her heels. The room was little changed. If not for the smell of freshly finished carpentry, it would be easy to mistake the Black Swan’s new chamber for her old one.
The Black Swan herself was stretched on the couch. In front of her, there was now a low table covered with a long semi-circle of engraved letters, painted white against the black finish of the wood. It was a simple alphabet, plus the numbers 0 through 9, and a few common marks of punctuation. The only actual words were a ‘YES’ at one end and a ‘NO’ at the other.
“Mistress,” said Aurora, sounding joyful. “You’re still alive!”
The Black Swan said nothing. One of her bony hands unfolded from her chest and pointed toward the ‘NO.’
Infidel sucked in her breath. I followed her eyes to the Black Swan’s wrist. It wasn’t merely bony; it was actual bone. Beneath her black veil, I could see an eyeless skull, white as chalk.
“Oh, mistress,” whispered Aurora.
The Black Swan moved her finger across the board with a surprising rapidity; she seemed much faster now that she was freed from her withered muscles.
“My work is too important to be slowed by death,” she spelled.
Infidel stepped back toward the doorway. She looked… spooked. I’d never seen her react like this.
The Black Swan nodded toward her and spelled, “You need not fear me.”
Infidel squared her shoulders. She put on her brave face, but I could hear a hint of discomfort in her voice as she said, “I’m not afraid. If you give me any problems, you won’t be the first undead I’ve taken apart this week.”
The Black Swan nodded.
“How did you do this?” Aurora whispered. “Why?”
The skeletal hand tapped out. “My great work is not yet finished.”
Aurora furrowed her brow. “Your great work? What great work? I’ve never known you to want anything other than money.”
The Black Swan tapped the ‘YES.’
“People say you can’t take it with you,” said Infidel. “Guess you proved them wrong.”
‘YES.’
Then, she spelled out, “Priests tell us the world is built of matter, spirit, truth, and lies. There is a fifth force, most powerful of all. Money.”
Infidel looked skeptical. “I’ve known more than my fair share of rich people, and money hasn’t kept their skeletons animated after they croak.”
“They didn’t know how to spend it,” the Black Swan tapped. “With every journey into the future, my wealth grows exponentially. My purse strings entangle all the world’s kings. The future rests upon my decisions.”
“Really?” said Infidel. “Because with that kind of power, you’d think you’d choose to be something other than a bag of bones stuck in a dark, smelly room.”
Before the Black Swan could respond, Aurora asked, “Menagerie told me I was fired. Why?”
“You cannot serve two masters. You have chosen to recover the Jagged Heart and return to your people. I have arranged a contract with Ivory Blade on your behalf. We will not meet again after this day.”
Infidel stepped closer. “Then it’s true. Tower has the Jagged Heart.”
The Black Swan’s hand remained motionless as her empty eyes gazed at Infidel. At last, she shrugged.
“You mean you don’t know, or won’t tell us?” asked Infidel.
The Black Swan shook her head, the vertebrae in her neck creaking. “In my most recent trip to the future, I was unable to learn whether or not the Jagged Heart endures. All that is certain is that twelve of the world’s greatest warriors set out to slay Greatshadow. They failed. Only two survived.” She nodded toward Infidel. “I learned this from your daughter.”
Infidel’s eyebrows shot up. “My daughter?”
“Given her birth date, you may be pregnant now. If not, the child will be conceived within the month.”
“Umm… no. No, I can assure you that’s not possible. Whoever you met in the future, she wasn’t my kid.”