A hacking cough brought my attention to Asher.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him mouth a single word. No.
His rebuke flashed my goal back into focus. Her cooperation was necessary, so I kept quiet.
As I expected, the maven interpreted my silence as agreement.
“You’re asking much from her.” Chinedu shifted on the lounge. “Perhaps too much.”
“Henri sent them.” The maven turned to him. “He must have a reason.”
Chinedu hummed. “Is there an alternative to dayflowers that would suit your purpose?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Henri has yet to discover a substitute.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Henri has put us in a delicate situation. If we refuse to honor your requests, then your failed health will be laid at our feet. As you are a friend of Henri’s, and his sister is a most generous benefactor to our clan, a slight dealt to you is an affront to them, and we can’t afford that.”
Asher’s scowl darkened. It seemed I wasn’t the only one smarting from the sting of her warning.
“If her life wasn’t dependent on your generosity, then we wouldn’t be here now. Marne isn’t too proud to ask for help. That doesn’t mean she relishes throwing herself upon the mercy of strangers.”
Chinedu gifted Asher with a response. “If that is the case, why has she not asked for our help?”
He stared at me when he said it, and I sensed the challenge in his observation.
“She is newly widowed.” Asher tucked his fists at his sides. “I ask you for your consideration.”
The paladin grunted in my direction, chiding me for my choice of champion.
Except I had not chosen Asher, he seemed to have chosen me.
Maven Sikyakookyang curled her lip at Asher as though his words smelled foul.
My stance mirrored Asher’s, fists clenched at my sides, anger painting my cheeks. A person in my position could not afford to be too proud to beg. A week ago, I would have done as the paladin asked, thrown myself upon his mercy and agreed with his wife that Mimetidae were a clan of brutes and scoundrels, anything to secure the dayflower supply to extend my life with Edan.
Today I felt the Mimetidae was the only person in the room who respected me. Hard as I tried, I failed to placate or entreat the paladin. Instead I sat in sullen quiet.
Shifting her skirts to cover her toes, the maven grew tired of waiting and cleared her throat.
“Old Father is what my people call a spirit walker. He is an elder, a healer, who can see into the spiritlands. He has a unique perspective in matters of health where souls are concerned. He believes there is more to you than what we have been told.” The maven waited for a response I dared not give her without forfeiting my life. “He says there is a sickness in your aura that he has only seen in those who are infected with the yellow death, but that you do not suffer ill effects from that spiritual taint.”
“He’s right.” It was obvious I was not ill in any way they could see.
How long I continued my charade of health depended on me maintaining my injection schedule.
Chinedu tapped a finger to his mouth. “Would you care to explain how that is possible?”
Asher rocked to his feet. “If the price of your help is the violation of her privacy—”
The paladin bristled, his hand sliding to the curved blade anchored at his hip.
Taking a deep breath, I forced a bright smile at the paladin that I hoped reassured him.
“No harm done.” I patted Asher’s thigh. “I can share my condition, but I prefer to discuss it with Old Father first, if I may. I hadn’t realized he was quite so insightful. I would like to compare notes.”
“I can allow that.” The maven nodded after a time. “Old Father is the povosqa of our clan, and if you seek his council, then you can be granted certain privacies by him that I can’t offer you. Though I will warn you now that if he feels you are a threat to our clan, he will tell me and you will be dealt with accordingly. Our clan stands at a crossroads, and we can’t afford to falter if we are to survive.”
Crossroads.
As near as Beltania sat to the veil, she had no idea how right she was.
Thoughts of the veil spawned thoughts of Edan, bloodied and limp, carried in Idra’s clutches. A wave of grief swept me forward until my palms crashed to the floor to brace me before I kissed dirt.
Revenge will be mine. I waited for my heart to steady. I can do this. Just a few more days…
“Marne?” Asher’s fingers brushed my shoulder.
I swallowed hard and raised my head. “I understand, and I accept that risk.”
This would be worthwhile to win Old Father’s cooperation.
“Marne is famished.” Asher knelt beside me. “Are we finished here?”
A scowl creased Chinedu’s forehead. “We will be finished when I say we are finished.”
“The guard is right.” The maven’s lips puckered at the bitter taste of her agreement. “Marne has suffered a great loss. We were wrong to press her while her health is so fragile. A conflict with risers would stress anyone, but she lost her husband.” She gazed over at Chinedu. “Her heart is broken. Thank the gods their life threads were not tied, or she would not be here at all. Let her eat. Let her speak with Old Father. Once she has rested, then we will come to an understanding.”
“As you wish, love.” He kissed her full on the mouth. “We will do as you think best.”
When Asher grasped my elbow, I was grateful for his help. “Thank you both for your kindness.”
Brackets formed around the maven’s mouth when I let him draw me gently onto my feet.
“Old Father also has a unique perspective in matters of the heart. Our youths leave him offerings in exchange for him using his talents to divine their soul mates.” When I paled, the maven spread her hands. “What I mean is that perhaps he can help you heal. When you’re ready.” Her gaze touched on Asher. “It’s easy for a female unused to being alone to fall into the trap of thinking she needs a male when they’re often more trouble than they’re worth. Grieve. Heal. Then see where your heart lies.”
Knowing full well she considered Asher the trap, I accepted her advice in the spirit it was given.
“From what Lleu told me of your people, I have no cause to fear the males who live here.”
“They would show you no disrespect.” She splayed her fingers. “As I said, Salticidae believe we each have a soul mate. We believe in finding the one person meant to share our lives. The unwed in our clan take the commitment to their future life partner seriously. You are perfectly safe here.” The maven allowed Chinedu to draw her to her feet and into his arms. “Unless you are a Salticidae’s mate.”
My limp arm slid from Asher’s grip.
The shock of knowing Old Father could make such life-altering predictions rattled me.
It seemed the talented elder was full of surprises.
Asher nudged me with his elbow in time to duck my head before the maven passed by us.
Once we were alone, he rubbed his face with his hands. “I could have handled that better.”
I traced a grout line with my toe. “I got the impression the maven dislikes you.”
“She does.” He glared where she had sat. “It isn’t personal. She hates all Mimetidae.”
My brow creased. “Yet you offered to speak on my behalf, knowing how she would treat you.”
He shrugged and found the patterns I traced of sudden interest. “The Mimetidae are everything the Salticidae hold in contempt. We indulge. They abstain. They nibble shoots and nuts. We like our meat hot and bloody.” His expression darkened. “For all that we are different, their closest ally, Maven Lourdes, wed into our clan. She found us worthy of alliance.” He shook his head. “Even the maven’s own niece, Kokyangwmana, a celebrated spirit walker, we
d a Mimetidae. Our paladin, Vaughn, is Mana’s soul mate. Yet none of that endears our people to hers.”
I tapped his chin until he looked at me. “I know what it’s like to be reviled for what you are.”
Shame sent his gaze skittering away from mine. He covered my hand with his. “Marne—”
“We can’t help what we are.” I withdrew from him. “Who we are, that is of our own making.”
Leaving him to gather his thoughts, I stepped outside and inhaled the promise of a hot meal. When the scent made my stomach rumble, I set out with the intention of finding the source.
The streets bustled even at this early hour. It seemed the entire clan had awakened while we had been speaking with the maven and paladin. Females walked past with empty baskets balanced on top of their heads. They chattered and laughed as they followed the same dirt road as the boys with their varanus had taken. The fields must lie in that direction. I debated following the females to see if they intended to harvest produce or pick dayflowers, but our hosts might not take kindly to such curiosity.
A shout brought my head around where a skirmish crowded the street.
Bodies parted, and I glimpsed the instigator. Pascale’s blonde hair was colored muted dayflower blue, and her fine white dress was dyed the same blue as the rest of her. She was kicking a cloth sack at her feet. No. Not a sack. A person. There was a male writhing on the ground. Oh dear. It was Lleu.
“Untie me, harpy,” he bellowed.
“Apologize.” She swept her arms in front of her body. “Look what you’ve done.”
He barked a laugh. “I regret nothing.”
She kicked him again.
His warning growl made my hackles rise.
Stinging in my fingers alerted me to my growing nails. Vicious claws curved over my fingertips.
A steadying hand at my back startled me until the scent of Asher reached my nose.
“The air tastes of blood and fury.” I swallowed hard. “I should leave.”
“Let’s go then.” He gestured in the opposite direction. “The dining hall is this way.”
I bobbed my head, not trusting myself to speak. My shoulder blades itched, and the blood at the corner of Lleu’s mouth tempted me to fall on my knees at his side and offer to kiss his injuries better.
Fool that he was, he would have tasted my lips to slight Pascale.
Fool that I was, I would have let him sample the edges of my smile.
But my teeth were sharp, and I feared at times like these, my mind was not my own.
So we left him to the beating Pascale thought he deserved.
Chapter Seven
First meal was simple fare made delicious by its freshness. Ripe fruits and berries filled trays to their edges. Shelled nuts were ready to be sprinkled over the steaming bowls of mashed oats that sat at each place setting. Jars of honey and ewers of dayflower syrup lined the center of a slender table.
As seemed to be the custom here, the table was low and cushions abounded instead of chairs.
Pascale seated us before rounding the table and positioning herself across from me.
I joined our tablemates in trying and failing not to gawk.
Once the room was filled to bursting, Old Father entered and stood at the head of the table. The maven and paladin accompanied him, one to either side.
I went to my knees, about to stand, when Asher put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. No one else had moved. They all sat with their heads bowed low and their hands in their laps.
Taking my cue from Pascale, I mimicked her position.
“We thank the two gods for the rich lands they entrusted into our ancestors’ care, for the foods we are about to eat. Bless those who are here, those who are not and those who have been welcomed home to the spiritlands. May the gods extend their grace to our guests and may their blessings follow them home.” Old Father patted his stomach. “Now. Let us eat.” The maven and paladin lowered him onto his cushion. “I am old, and my body has less patience for ceremony than it once did, but such is the path of life.”
Those nearest to him mumbled agreement while the maven knelt at his side to prepare his meal. The paladin fell to his knees next and assembled her meal with reverence before preparing his own.
After each took their first bites, the room erupted into conversation and the clatter of spoons.
“It’s rude to stare.” Asher bumped my knee under the table when he noticed me glance at Pascale. “Even if she looks like a blueberry.”
I stifled a small laugh. “That was a cruel thing to say.”
“I can’t help the truth.” He bumped my knee again. “It was worth saying to see you smile.”
“You realize…” I swirled my oats, “…your duty to Henri is done. I’m here. You’re free to go.”
He swung his head toward me. “Do you want me to leave?”
I sprinkled nuts into my bowl. “No.”
“Good,” he said gruffly. “Then I’ll stay until you’re settled before returning to Erania.”
If I were kinder, I would have said he ought to go. Now. Before I got my affairs in order and left the city to hunt Idra. He was one of a few who might witness my destruction and be saddened by it.
Once Asher began crunching through a handful of almonds, I sampled my first spoonful of oats. Delicious. The way the hot mash settled in my stomach dulled my hunger for the first time in weeks.
I ate more than I should have because, honestly, the lack of meat present concerned me.
The best way to curb my less savory cravings was by offering myself a compromise. Here there were no savory treats with which to barter with the darker part of myself.
When I looked up from my empty bowl, it was to see everyone rising with their dishes in hand. I watched to see what they did, but they filed from the room past Old Father and mingled in the street.
Asher leaned closer. “Old Father is summoning us.”
We cleaned our places and collected our bowls, then we joined Old Father. He reached for each of us at once, intending for us to help him stand. He must have sent the maven and paladin ahead to give us a moment of privacy. I bent, thinking I would collect his dishes, but they had been removed.
“Sikya tells me you wish to discuss an arrangement with me.” He gestured toward the far corner of the room, and Asher fetched his walking stick. “It is an interesting request. One I will honor.”
I held his elbow while we waited for Asher. “I appreciate your consideration.”
“The two gods send us trials, and I feel certain you are a test of theirs. If I can only see my way out of solving the puzzle, it will bring blessings upon my people.” His white teeth flashed. “Come. I am expected, as are you. Once we have cleansed ourselves, then you may greet me at my home.”
He accepted the stick from Asher and grunted as his bones settled into a comfortable stoop.
Out of concern, I stuck by his side until we exited the building and bumped into Wishövi.
“You can go ahead.” He eyed the walking stick. “It is my honor to escort Old Father.”
The elder snorted but waved his hand to usher us where the others gathered. Dual lines formed ahead. Females stood in one line and males in the other. Both lines angled toward the river. I took my place at the end of one and Asher at the end of the other.
Old Father shuffled past us, making his way to the head of the line with Wishövi’s help.
Several minutes later, his rich voice raised a rhythmic chant whose purity vibrated in my bones. The end of his song brought a peaceful silence. He cried out once, and the line shifted forward. From where I stood, the ceremony was concealed. All I saw were the backs of heads in the snaking queue.
When the line crept forward another step, I caught Asher emptying his bowl on the sand.
He hadn’t eaten a single bite.
The sight of his oats made mine sit like lead in my gut. “Was the meal not to your liking?”
He flicked congealed oats from his spoon. “Fruit and grains aren’t a meal.”
I shared the sentiment, not that it did either of us any good. “The Salticidae don’t eat meat.”
“I learned that the hard way.” He shifted his weight to better see over the head of the male ahead of him. “This time I cured enough dried meat to last me several days in the event I was detained, but it was in my pack, on my ursus, wherever those went.”
Four males and five ursus lost. There was no point searching the veil. They wouldn’t be found.
A thought occurred to me. “How is Lleu adjusting to his new diet?”
Asher checked our progress again. “Lleu will eat anything.”
“You’re fidgeting.” I wondered. “Is this done after every meal?”
“I’m not.” He paused before saying more. “And no, it isn’t.”
“Was there something else you wanted to add?”
“This is a ceremonial cleaning,” he admitted. “I witnessed it once before. I was passing through here on clan business when a female who had survived the plague returned to Beltania. I don’t know the particulars of her case, but she ate in the hall with her clan before they performed the ceremony.”
Heat blossomed in my cheeks. Old Father was cleaning his clan of our association.
“I made inquiries. They don’t know about you,” he assured me. “They do know we encountered risers on the other side of the veil because the Mimetidae guards stationed here warned them before they went to patrol their borders. That is likely the taint they wish to banish, nothing more personal.”
Relief stole my voice, both that he thought to ask and that he shared that information with me.
He studied me from the corner of his eye. “Can I ask you something?”
“That sounds serious,” I teased. “Is that what the fidgeting is about?”
Asher took my hand, and I froze at the shock of him caressing my ring finger. “Do your people not exchange jewelry or other tokens to indicate when a female is taken? I see no tattoos or other—”
A Veil of Secrets Page 6