Chapter 22
The right to act like one
The Lapis River floods up from beneath the crater city with roiling power, water shuddering past heavy boulders shaped into a series of massive teeth.
Each is outfitted with anchor arrays that can be activated to cause force-field walls to snap alive between various individual or groups of the fangs.
In this way the course of the river can be directed toward any of the channels leading in six directions from the mouth.
Four of them take water throughout the Rivermouth precinct, one dives back below the crater rock, and the final rushes up into the air via a glass bridge.
The small king of Rivermouth stands on a floating stage with ans water manager and Amado Chimera, observing as the anchor arrays are tested for stick and stability now that the destruction to the underground channel farther upriver beneath the territory of the aptly named Rising Smoke fortress has been fixed.
The small king of Rising Smoke has not deigned to join them, for which River is grateful as the man is a sniveling worm River hasn’t trusted to cover his mouth when he sneezes in nearly a decade.
How nobody has assassinated him yet is something River plans to look into—someday, when an doesn’t have more pressing priorities.
Fortunately, one of River’s predecessors worked out a diamond-strong contract with Rising Smoke and Saltbath, claiming all rights to the Lapis River’s liquid output despite its flow beneath those territories.
The contract remains in effect until there is no longer a River king of Irsu’s bloodline.
It was witnessed by the Moon-Eater’s blood, the only unbreakable bond in the entirety of the crater city.
If only the Moon-Eater would use his power more often.
“Impressive, as always,” the small king of Chimera fortress says in a break between the roar of river releases.
And it is impressive; River still appreciates that even after years of paying attention.
But for the past week the process of recovering the full maneuverability of ans fortress’s livelihood has been touch and go.
They had to negotiate with Saltbath for access to their underground chambers to come at the reconstruction from the north in addition to sending in divers from the mouth here.
River had not bothered negotiating with Rising Smoke, instead offering two carts-full of embroidered silk, quartz and silicate spears from River’s personal crystal farm, chunks of actual gold, and several paintings by mid-level artists River had been only slightly reluctant to part with.
Rising Smoke doesn’t like attempts at negotiation, but bribery is just fine.
For some inane reason that idiot small king thinks accepting bribes makes him seem the more powerful between them.
“Jaret,” River says to ans water manager, “check in with the team at the border with Ribbonwork to make certain the southern river gates are functioning.”
The manager gestures to the design team on the bank, and the stage slides along a ribbonweave, descending to the ground level for the manager to step off.
“Would Amado like to continue observing, or head to the fortress?” River asks.
Amado tucks red-white-black hair behind his ear and inclines his head. “The news Chimera brings Rivermouth is best relayed behind shields, and perhaps in the presence of River’s dear guest,” he says.
“Very well.” River steps off the stage after ans manager. “This River has been thoroughly observed,” an says to ans people.
Amado laughs lightly at the pun, tapping his salt-tipped cane to the cobbles to echo his humor.
At first they walk in silence, given the destruction in this part of the city.
Though progress has been made in the scant days since the disaster, some of the streets and buildings must be redesigned from the lowest levels up.
River is glad ans precinct has no underground neighborhoods like several of the small kings nearby allow.
In Rivermouth anything below the crater rock is the domain of water.
If people lived down there, water poaching would be more rampant and difficult to control.
Not to mention fish and grass poaching. River considers anself a generous and fair king, one who cares deeply for the welfare of ans people, but Lapis River water rights belong to an and an only.
“It smells like water even so far from the river these days,” Amado says.
“The plumbing infrastructure was hit hard in this neighborhood, and several homes flooded,” River admits quietly.
“Twenty-seven people drowned that night. Three more yesterday when a pipe half-dismantled in the initial explosion burst and a multifamily building sank into the West Night river channel.”
“Awful, River,” Amado says with a small frown.
River knows Amado cares most about order and the appearance of leadership, but under that primary motivation, the Reconciler does not allow the concerns of the living human beings to fall away.
They disagree on many details of how and why or why not the crater city should be ruled, but they agree on one major element: that the Moon-Eater should care.
More and more lately River and Amado have considered that the Moon-Eater needs to be made to care.
How is uncertain. Neither of them are willing to risk lives for it.
Over the past several years they’ve taken their turns attempting to argue for the Moon-Eater’s active participation in governing, Amado directly and River through Eliri inasmuch as Eliri is willing.
Roc Aliel, River’s first and best ally, has tried, though the Moon-Eater and Roc rub each other the wrong way even when Roc insists he’s doing everything possible to be friendly.
The problem, according to Amado, is that the Moon-Eater has no interest in caring, does not want to, and the Moon-Eater never does a thing he doesn’t want to do.
If he were mortal, it wouldn’t be such a problem. They could focus on his heirs. They could assassinate him. But the Moon-Eater, they believed until now, could not be removed in any way.
Then that anomalous star fell to the crater, and with it, a potential solution into their hands.
Because Eliri has told River what Iriset studies with the Moon-Eater and his old friend, this thing called sundering, and that the two fairies play as if it’s an ultimate power. Enough to stop the Moon-Eater.
Eliri also believes Iriset Sunderer will not betray the Moon-Eater, but the same cannot be said for her wife Lyric Aharté, who recovers in River’s own fortress.
River has shared none of this with Chimera, of course.
Until an knows what Lyric Aharté is willing to do, River will not put any tools or weapons into another small king’s hand.
“Lyric was a leader where Lyric comes from,” Roc said to River not two days before, “and can be reasoned with.”
All River wants is a citywide leadership that matters.
A leadership that can enforce laws and regulations across small king territories.
These spider mines would not have remained undetected with such cooperation.
The point of their success as weapons of mass destruction is that they scatter themselves on explosion, through nearly undetectable pre-laid threads of force.
The threads can be detected with intricate trace designs, but such designs must be drawn for the specific areas in which they are to take effect.
The same trace design that is successful in Rivermouth will not be successful in Rising Smoke or Saltbath or Chimera or Sharp-Shin.
Right now the crater city might as well be thirteen separate kingdoms with separate laws, cultures, design modes, and necessities cohabiting the same eight circle miles for all they work together.
The Renovation War should have ended with one or two of the small kings in charge of everything.
But the devastations had been too great, and everyone had to recover in their own ways.
If anyone had been in the position to rule then, it had been River and Roc Aliel and their Cult of Hopeful Design.
But River didn’t want it then—an still does not want it, but an may have no choice.
Two years ago when River ranted too harshly about some disagreement with Ribbonwork to Roc, the older man had glared at an and said, “Then River should have taken the crown when the chance presented itself instead of setting fire to all River’s allies who would not let River save Eliri.
Now none would expect River to be able to lead. ”
River stopped, gut churning, and narrowed ans eyes.
An willed anself to be cold. “If that is what Roc believes, then why did Roc not kill this poor excuse for a small king and take what had been built together when that chance presented itself? This small king knows Eliri’s loss would not have impacted Roc’s rule.
” River tilted ans chin, showing ans neck.
Roc could have broken that neck in the moment, or in the past, easily, and blamed another, then used the grief and sympathy of Rivermouth to claim the small king title.
The older cultist grimaced. “River knows Roc cares deeply for that girl.”
“And yet,” River says, light as razor wire.
Roc hemmed, stuffed food in his mouth, laughed the question off, but River was patient and had a hundred-mile stare. And an already knew the answer. It was why River and Roc had been allies for fifteen years.
Finally, Roc burst out, “The name of the cult is Hopeful Design, Irsu River. Hope is what matters most in moving forward, always.”
River had smiled and said, “And so the Moon-Eater will not die, will not rule, will not go, because the Moon-Eater has no hope.”
Except perhaps now, the Moon-Eater does, and that makes him vulnerable.
When River strides into ans fortress trailed by Amado Chimera and two sets of combat-mercs in full defensive design, everyone gets out of the way.