Cantor for Pearls (Twin Kingdoms 2)

For years, Always Falling has been content in the capital of the Twin Kingdoms, seeing to its beloved the imperial composer...and there the neuter might have stayed, had it not received an urgent message summoning it home. After the cruelties that saw Always Falling exiled, the last thing it wants is to go back, much less in the company of a near stranger: Amet Emendexte-ilye, the new lover its beloved took to ens breast only a few months ago.

But no one else can accompany Always Falling to the harbor city where it was once a member of a rarified aristocracy. And maybe a highland warrior, a stranger, and a musician will be the key not just to the injustices of the past, but the needs Always Falling has never admitted to, even to itself.

The sea is waiting....

A lyrical novel-length romance, set in a second world fantasy. Return to the Twin Kingdoms!

Genre (setting): high fantasy romance (Twin Kingdoms)
Relationship: Male/Neuter (Asexual)
Tags: low conflict, neuter, music, composers, magic, swimming, sea, aliens, sea serpents
Rating: PG for emotional situations, implied sexual situations (no explicit scenes)

Excerpt From Chapter 1

Poursday for me was a religious observation. I much preferred to observe it in solitude on the hill. I was grateful to Amet for making that desire less of a burden to my beloved, and relieved that Dancer had managed to deflect his attention from his own griefs. They would no doubt return to him until he resolved them in his own heart… but grappling with them now would only distress Dancer and create friction between them. Their relationship was the foundation of the new life he was attempting to build here. They needed one another, and the revelry would make that clearer, so I left them to it.

But I did not make it back to the palace.

“Honored Fourth,” the messenger said, bowing as she offered a folded parchment. “For you, from the Little Pier.”

“The pier?” I said, startled. I didn’t doubt the message had found the right recipient; I recognized the maiden as one of the servants charged with the palace mail, and she had detained me at its gates. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, Honored Fourth.”

As I unfolded it, I said, “Who gave it to you?”

“A stranger, if you please. They asked for you by name.”

I frowned at the parchment, tilting it so that the pencil scrawl would catch the light from the nearest globe. A confident hand, so someone familiar with their letters. But a pencil, and not a brush, which suggested someone who needed to erase. Few people wrote letters with lead; few people wrote with lead at all, for the eastern alphabet lent itself to brushwork. Numbers, though…

An accountant or businessperson, then, most likely. Presence requested at Pier 32, it said. Urgent. Please come at once.

“They asked for me by name?” I said idly.

“’Always Falling,’” she repeated. “’The pearl merchant.’”

I looked up at her abruptly, but there was nothing in her face to indicate she understood the unlikeliness of the address.

“Thank you.” I pressed a square coin into her hand. “For your trouble. Finding someone in a Poursday throng is difficult.”

“Honored Fourth,” she said with another bow, and then she was gone.

So was I, for the stables. Only one group would think to ask for Always Falling the pearl merchant… and the situation must be very bad indeed, to make any of my relatives willing to speak with me again.

* * *

The Little Pier was a dim pool of purple shadows and cool glowing lights. Reserved for local fishermen who served the capital, it was a small collection of quays and boardwalks, far less developed than the adjacent harbor where even now the fireworks barges were pushing off, leaving the celebrants to shoulder their way to the best vantages for the show. As I guided the horse down the road, I glanced up, toward the lights and noise. Dancer would be on a balcony on the riverbank—our one year trying to force our way near the barges had convinced us both to try a different tactic.

I was glad to be heading for the quiet. Even the road was empty; most of the fishing families would have concluded their work earlier in the day, not just to have the time for the celebration, but because the arrival of magic drove their quarry too deep into the water for their nets. It was an irony that the vitalizing force that made the fish in our country the best in the world also frightened them…but then, I had it on the best of authorities that fish were stupid, and I had no reason to doubt those who’d reported it.

Unsurprisingly there were few people abroad. I wondered which of the strangers had taken my message as I dismounted and led the horse to Pier 32, which was, it turned out, the furthest east, in the shadow of the slope leading up toward the great harbor. I left the steed tied to a hitching post and stepped onto the wooden boards… and stopped.

There was no boat at its end.

Perhaps I was on the wrong pier? I stepped back, checked the signs: no, this was 32. But there was no vessel moored there. I would have expected my family to charter a small, private boat to reach the capital, or perhaps shake loose one of their own for the trip. Had they dropped someone off and left? Would I find my cousin, or my uncle, in one of the little offices clustered near the middle of the pier?

I turned that way, frowning. And heard something breach the water as an embrace warm as mother’s breath wrapped around my thoughts, just beneath my brow-bone, crowning me in love.

I strangled a noise. Impossible. It was frankly impossible, for too many reasons. But I was running anyway, and I remembered to pull up just as the familiar face rose from the water and leaned toward me, crest spreading in opalescent glory, catching every nuance of the shimmering light in its dripping fans.

Loving Cousin, the sea serpent exclaimed. You came! Just as I knew you would.

I could barely breathe. Now I was gasping, and, I thought, crying. This could not, absolutely could not be happening.

Look at me! Am I not splendid!

I found my tongue, finally, past horror and a joy so intense my body shook. “Strong Fourth Son! Water and air, what are you doing here? In the river! You shouldn’t be in river water!”

It was hard, the serpent said, preening. But I am Strong Fourth Son, after all, and I have done it! Are you not proud of me?