Chapter 22

“You infatuate me and then you terrify me, Zuri,” Adana said with her arms crossed as she sat.

Zuri was looking at the people walking down the street as he peered out between the plants on the balcony. “How do I answer that statement? Me, too? I’ve never experienced such desire before and I am drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Your siren call scares me and makes me giddy at the same time.

“Then there is the Ghura Way, and we are both terrified of that unknown. If you asked me what it is like, I would say it’s like being on the back of a charging stallion without a bridle or reins. I cannot stop it.”

“Do Ghura get married?”

“Yes, and they have children,” Zuri said. “Dipping into my memory, I see a book on the little table next to the bed. Sex manual. Um, I never considered that position.”

Adana took his hand. “I’ll bite your lure, what position?”

“Er, how flexible are you?” He asked, leering.

Adana slapped him across the face, “Don’t toy with me, Zuri. You’re good to go for fucky-fuck, but when real circumstances blow up in your face, you run to someone other than me. Do you know anything about me? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Zuri rubbed his face. “I probably deserved that, but you didn’t have to go through with it. I do listen to you.” He paced. “I went back to Kortazar because he was the money man for the - Gura-sho of Duran Province, which is where I landed with the Chayre; he also knew the Gura I encountered. The conversation led to a broader discussion. What you witnessed was a confirmation of his boredom with life in Kaosa. You watched him accept a challenge that appealed to his sense of loss after fleeing Covanera. No one else I’ve met has those lay ecumenical skillsets.”

“You didn’t come to me first,” Adana said with pointed accusation.

“His office is in the same building as the Pointing Chayre,” Zuri said. “He was in his office.”

“I don’t care,” Adana said, but Zuri cut her off.

“If you had given me a benefit of a doubt, I would have made my next pitch to you concerning my other project,” Zuri said.

“You’re lying,” Adana said. Zuri would not be deterred.

“Let’s say I find worthy candidates in Lewa Ilu or just as important, I locate the medicant chemists I need. How do I get these people to Qirin and further, to Fundazioa without alerting the Gura or the various nobilities?”

“How many people can Ungjin accommodate?”

“Four hundred, easily,” Zuri said.

“You want to sneak three to four hundred people out of Lewa Ilu and bring them to Kaosa?” Adana said. “Are you out of your fooking mind?”

“Not all at once,” Zuri said. “I’ve got to find these people. The task promises to be slow and time consuming; I’m thinking one’s and two’s.”

“I’m still angry with you,” Adana said. “You go, you come, you make these grand pronouncements, strike encompassing agreements, and you remove me from all of it. You tell me ‘it’s Ghura business’ and that means I’m not allowed to ask. I am a successful businesswoman, independent and respected. I will not be treated as the servant or worse, the convenient bedwarmer.”

“I am trusting you with my life and with secrets the world at large does not know,” Zuri said. “Who would do such a thing with servants and whores?”

“Then don’t treat me as a second thought,” she said.

“I don’t,” Zuri said. “What you perceive, and the truth of the matter are two different things. Now that I know what you need from me, I’ll do my best to give it to you. All of this is new to me, including you. I’m from the wrong side of the harbor, Adana, and besides my blessed mother, the only successful women I have known are quite a low bar. You are an enigma to me; I always wanted to use that word.”

“Seminary addled your brain,” she said. “If you want my help, then you must treat me with the respect I demand. I am not Noble born, but I am the woman running the best inn in Qirin, one that has no rival in Duran Province either. I was a toddler when my parents had to flee a Noble’s coveting of our generations’ old hostelry in Covanera. The lesson is seared into my deepest flesh, and despite my tender age, I remember glimpses of terror as we ran. No one will threaten me or degrade me as long as there is breath in my lungs. My parents may have founded this establishment, but its position today is my work, my sweat. I will not have you or anyone diminish it.”

“Understood,” Zuri said, taking a seat. He looked out upon the view for a while longer. “My proposition?”

“What you are looking for is called an ‘underground highway’,” Adana said. “Or a smuggler’s highway. You don’t need smugglers and their unwanted dangers if you are moving people legally but surreptitiously. You want quiet and unassuming or as you said, ‘just passing through.’ Unfortunately, there are enough ne’er-do-wells watching the roads for easy pickings, that quiet and well-armed is probably a better stance.”

“Yes, I met some of those bandits,” Zuri said. “When I crossed into Medawar Province from Lewa, I almost had my throat cut in the middle of the night.”

“We cannot use these Chayres of yours, I suppose,” Adana said.

“No, you must gain First Mastery to use the devices,” Zuri said. “Every candidate had to travel by foot to reach Ungjin in the ancient days. The Masters believed the journey proved health and determination. I see no recollections of great fear of highwaymen.”

“You will need a probable collection point in each province and then either road markers or guides along the way,” Adana said. “Maintaining the markers would be time-consuming and require lots of people in many locations cooperating and keeping their silence. Guides are smugglers for the sake of argument; they are going to bring goods that add to their purses leading you back to the problem you were trying to avoid.”

“I’ve met farmers, sex workers, and caravanners who helped me,” Zuri said. “They were regular folk, people going about their business. I gave and took, bartered, and offered coin when I had it. We shared water, food, stories, and support. I learned.”