Burning Bright

Gelsomina fumbled in the folds of her costume, and produced a slim set of night glasses. She laid her staff aside and used both hands to work the focusing buttons. Lioe narrowed her eyes at the dark platform, wondering how anyone would be able to see anything on that distant deck. And then a giant figure unfolded itself from the barge, a woman in a full skirt and low-cut bodice, a giantess with a crown of blue-white stars, and more stars draped and scattered across her dress. She stood for a moment, a sketch in light and shadows, and then spotlights came on, revealing her full glories. There was a gasp from the crowds on the banks and on the boats to either side, and then shrill applause. It had to be some kind of puppet, Lioe knew, an enormous automaton that swept into an astonishingly graceful curtsy as the sound of the cheers reached it, but the illusion was nearly perfect. The face was serenely beautiful, elegantly proportioned; as Lioe watched, the features shifted, rearranging themselves into a gentle smile.

“Oh, they’re not going to like that,” Gelsomina said. “Half the crowd will miss the lighting.”

“No, look,” Roscha answered, pointing as the spotlights faded again, leaving the giantess wreathed in her own lights. “Oh, very nice.”

Gelsomina nodded, fumbling again with her glasses.

“It must be, what, ten meters tall,” Lioe said, and Roscha nodded.

“Between ten and twelve. Whose is it, Na Mina?”

“Who pays for them all?” Lioe asked.

“Civic groups,” Gelsomina answered, not taking her glasses from her eyes. “That’s Estens there—one of the Five Points Families, Na Lioe. They, the Five Points Families, I mean, and the Merchant Investors Syndicate, the Five Points Bank, cartels like Yardmasters and Fishers Co-op, and the Lockwardens, of course, each one sponsors a barge. Once a group’s bought the framework, it’s just a matter of dressing it each year.”

“It’s a way of proving your importance,” Roscha said.

Gelsomina went on as though she hadn’t spoken, lowering the glasses into her lap. “I used to dress for Yardmasters, a long time ago, and then for the MIS. Before it got so political.”

Lioe nodded, not really understanding, and a second barge swept into view. This one carried a massively muscled male shape, naked except for a blue-and-gold loincloth and heavy golden bracelets running from its wrists almost to its elbows. Its head was the head of a bull, the horns tipped with gold as well, and its body glittered in the spotlight, as though its skin were sheathed in some kind of faintly mottled coating, a gold iridescence like tiny scales. It threw back its head as the crowd’s noise reached it, massive mouth opening in a silent roar, and beat the air with its fists.

“Five Points Bank?” Roscha said, and Gelsomina nodded.

“More money than sense. But that’s always been their problem.”

“It looks,” Roscha said slowly, frowning, “you know, it looks almost hsaia, with that skin. I wonder if they meant it?”

“I doubt it,” Gelsomina said. “I heard talk about this. They hired Marrin Artisans to come up with a new way to make the sheathing, out of sequensas—rejects and scrap, mind you, but still. You can imagine what that cost.” She stared at the figure for a long moment, and added, grudgingly, “Still, it does look pretty good from here.”

“It still looks hsaia to me,” Roscha said. “And the FPB does a lot of business with HsaioiAn.”

“And that,” Gelsomina said, “is what’s wrong with the parade these days. Remember the year the Five Points Families each did one of the Four Judges? That started it, once their candidate got elected that year. Everything’s got a political angle, some kind of message—even when you don’t mean it to, somebody’s going to see it. The old days were a lot better.”

Roscha looked away, her expression at once embarrassed and mulish in the dim light, and Lioe said hastily, “Who’s that coming?”

Gelsomina adjusted her glasses again, focusing on the third barge that was just coming into view its deck still empty of its puppet. “MIS.”