The Devil's Garden by Jane Kindred Read Free Book Online

planning to do?”
    “A public protest against the Meerarchy. Thousands of people in the streets, all across the Delta. The expurgation movement has been gathering for a while. We’re going to demand a representative government. No more petitions. No more vetmas. The only blessings MeerAlya delivers are handouts to the rich for more bribes to fill his coffers. People are tired of working their fingers to the bone to pay tribute to rich men playing gods, and getting nothing in return.”
    Cillian chewed at his lip, thinking of the plum sprig on the vanity at home. He’d believed it was nonsense—the whole concept of divine creation, the myth of the Meeric magic. But he’d seen the sprig grow from nothing. He had held it in his hand.
    “How do you know they’re playing?”
    Cree opened her mouth to answer, but the bell rang from below, and she jumped up and tossed a pair of pants at him. “I’m putting up one of the expurgists from the capital. I was about to tell you about it. But she’s here now, and at some risk. Please promise me—”
    “I already have.” He stepped into the pants and buttoned them as she put a linen shirt around his shoulders. She and Cillian were almost of a size; Cree’s hips were just a trifle wider than his own, and there was only an extra inch of fabric in the length of the pants.
    As Cillian slipped his arms into the sleeves, Cree went to the door to admit her guest. The Rhymani was a young, dark-haired woman in a plain gauze veil that offset eyes of a deep, unusual blue. Though quite different from the blue of MeerAlya’s, it brought him to mind just the same.
    “Maiden Azhra of Rhyman.” Cree nodded toward Cillian. “Azhra, this is Cillian, my lover.”
    Cillian blushed at the familiarity, finishing the buttons with his left hand as he extended his right to Azhra. There was an awkward moment while she waited for him to draw her hand forward for the perfunctory kiss, and Cillian forgot himself as he waited for her to do the same. He remembered just in time for it to seem that only buttoning the shirt had made him pause.
    “Honored to meet you, Maiden Azhra. How do you find Soth In’La?”
    “Strange.” Azhra lowered her head covering so that the veil fell against her shoulders. “So many go against custom here. And the contraptions are astounding. I swear I saw a carriage propelled with no horse, billowing steam like a riverboat.”
    Cree nodded. “I’ve seen that on Bank Street. Must be a wealthy eccentric.”
    “MeerAlya is experimenting with steam locomotion.” The words were out before he could think.
    Azhra paused in straightening her head cloth. “Are you employed at the temple?”
    “I…” He looked to Cree.
    Cree made a slight bow in his direction. “You are speaking with the Maiden Ume Sky. A very influential temple courtesan.”
    Azhra’s ocean-blue eyes seemed to swallow him up. “I see. That would explain your…decorations, I suppose.”
    Cillian lowered his eyes, emphasizing the Irises of Alya while inclining his head in acknowledgment.
    “How old are you?” she asked abruptly.
    Cillian flicked his eyes to Cree’s and back to the demanding blue ones before him. “Seventeen summers.” At Cree’s soft groan of dismay he added, “I’m a veteran in my art.”
    “I was fourteen,” said Azhra. “Twelve years ago, when I was consort to the Meer of Rhyman.”
    “Meeralyá.” Cree turned and pushed the low table out of the way. “I think we should all sit down.” She sank onto the couch, and Cillian remembered to wait for Azhra to sit before joining them.
    She perched gingerly on the edge of a cushion as if she might leap up at any moment. “I’ve told no one else in the movement and I’d like it to stay that way.”
    Cree nodded. “Of course. But I thought the Meer were impotent.”
    “Celibate,” Cillian corrected.
    Azhra laughed bitterly. “How I wish either were so.” She gave Cillian a knowing look. “I’m sure you would