“I’ll bet I would,” said Mrs. Smith. She got up and fetched a bottle of after-dinner bitters, and mixed a mineral-water cocktail, which she presented to Lord Ermenwyr. She sank heavily into her chair again. He lifted his glass to her.
“Consider this a gesture of trust in your excellent good sense,” he said, and drank it down. “Ah. Really, I’m very fond of you both, and I’m not about to let truth and justice prevail. We’ll sweep the odious Coppercut under the carpet somehow—”
More footsteps. The door swung open, and Burnbright and Willowspear stood there, holding hands. They were pale too. They looked scared.
“We—” said Burnbright.
“That is, we—” said Willowspear.
They fell silent, staring at the party around the table. Lord Ermenwyr’s mouth fell open. After a moment of attempted speech, he finally sputtered: “You? Damn you, Willowspear, I wanted a piece of that! Burnbright, my love, if you thought he was a jolly romp, wait until you’ve danced the three-legged stamp with me!”
“No,” said Burnbright, as Willowspear put his arm around her. “I’m in love with him. I—I don’t know how it happened. It just happened!”
“I don’t know how it happened,” Willowspear echoed. “It just happened. Like lightning dropping from the sky.”
“Like a big ship bearing down on you out of the fog,” said Burnbright.
“There was nothing we could do,” said Willowspear, seeming dazed. “I had my duty—and my vows—and I always thought that She was the only love I would ever need, but—”
“I never wanted to fall in love,” said Burnbright tearfully. “And then—the whole world changed.”
Mrs. Smith shook her head.
“And you both look perfectly miserable,” said Lord Ermenwyr smoothly. “But, my dears, you’re both getting all upset over nothing! You’re forgetting that it’s Festival. This is a momentary fever, an illusion, a dream! Tomorrow you’ll both be able to walk away from each other without regrets. And if not tomorrow, the next day, or soon after. Trust me, darlings. It’ll pass.”
“No,” said Willowspear, his voice shaking. “It will never pass. I won’t blaspheme against Love.” He looked at Mrs. Smith. “I had had a dream, lady. I was an infant hidden in a bush. Another child was laid beside me, tiny and lost. I knew she was an orphan, a child of misfortune, and I wanted to take her in my arms and protect her.
“When I woke, I went to the Compassionate One and begged Her for my dream’s meaning. She told me I must find my life where it began.”
Awkwardly he came to her, leading Burnbright by the hand, and knelt. “Lady, I mean to marry Teeba. Give me your blessing.”
He reached out his hand and touched her face. Mrs. Smith flinched; a tear ran down her cheek.
“Now you’ve done it,” she said hoarsely. “Now we’re both caught.” She reached up and took his hand.
“Marry?” cried Lord Ermenwyr. “Are you mad? Look at the pair of you! Look at the world you’ll have to live in! I can tell you something about mixed marriages, my friend! You’ve no idea how hard it is to be Mother and Daddy’s son.”
Willowspear ignored him. “I never would have troubled you,” he told Mrs. Smith. “But word came to us that there was a man like a jackal, seeking out anyone who had followed the Sunborn. I knew he would hunt down my mother.
“The Compassionate One bid me go with Her son to this city. I meant to warn you. But then, the man was slain … and I saw Teeba, and it was as though I had known her all my life.”
“That’s not her real name,” said Mrs. Smith. “Her name is Kalya.”
“Really?” Burnbright squeaked. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’ve always hated Teeba!”
“Use the old name at your peril, child,” Mrs. Smith told her. “You’re not safe, even after all these years. And how do you think you’ll live?” She looked from one to the other of them in despair. “What do you imagine you’ll do, open a shop in Greenietown? You think you’ll be welcome even there, the pair of you?”
“I could still be a runner here,” said Burnbright. “And—” She looked at Smith in desperate appeal. “Wouldn’t it be a good idea if we had a house doctor? My friend Orecrash at the Hotel Sea-Air says all the really elegant places have a doctor on the premises, like at the spa. And rich people like to go to—to Yendri doctors, because they’re exotic and have all this mystic wisdom and like that. He could teach them meditation. Or something. Please?”
“We could try,” said Smith.
“Madness,” Lord Ermenwyr growled. “Sheer madness.”
“It isn’t either!” Burnbright rounded on him. “We won’t need anything else, if we have each other.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” said. Mrs. Smith sadly. “Either of you. You can’t imagine how hard it’ll be. But it can’t be helped now, can it? So you have my blessing. And I wish you luck; you’ll need it.”
“Nobody’s asking for my blessing,” complained Lord Ermenwyr. “Or even my permission.”
Willowspear stood and faced him. “My lord, your lady Mother—”
“I know, I know, this was all her doing. She knew perfectly well what would happen when she sent you down here,” said Lord Ermenwyr wearily. “Meddling in people’s lives to bring them love and joy and spiritual fulfillment, just as she’s always doing. Didn’t bother to tell me anything about it, of course, but why should she? I’m just miserable little Ermenwyr, the only living man in Salesh who hasn’t had sex this Festival.”
“That’s not true,” said Smith.
“Well, that’s a comfort, isn’t it? All right, Willowspear, you’re formally excused from my service. Go be a mystic holy man house doctor to a people who’d as soon stone you as look at you. You’ll have to register with the city authorities, you know, as a resident greenie, and take an oath not to poison their wells or defile their wives. You’ll come running back up the mountain the next time there’s a race riot—if you can run fast enough.”
“Anybody who tried to hurt him would have to kill me first!” said Burnbright, putting her arms around Willowspear and holding tight.
“I see,” said Lord Ermenwyr. “I suppose in that case there’s not the slightest chance you’d be willing to give me a quick tumble before the wedding? A little bit of Lord’s Right, you know, just so you can say you shopped around before you bought?”
“Dream on,” she retorted.
“Well, you’ll never know what you missed,” Lord Ermenwyr grumbled. “Oh, go to bed, both of you. I’m ready to puke from all the devotion in here.”
“My lord.” Willowspear bowed low. He turned to Mrs. Smith, took her hand, and kissed it. “Madam.”
“Go on,” she said.
He clasped hands once again with Burnbright, and they went out. Burnbright’s voice floated back, saying:
“…bed’s too narrow, but that’s all right; we can just move it out and sleep on the floor!”
“Smith, however shall they manage?” cried Mrs. Smith. “That child hasn’t got the brains the gods gave lettuce!”
“We’ll look after them, I guess,” said Smith. “And she’s sharper than you give her credit for.”
“She’s every inch the fool her father was,” said Mrs. Smith.
A silence followed her statement, until they once again heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Slightly unsteady footsteps.
The kitchen door opened, and Lord Eyrdway leaned in, grinning. His ruffled shirtfront was drenched in gore.
“I have to tell you, you’re missing a great party,” he informed his brother. “Did you know there was another corpse in your bathroom?”