The Shores of Spain

by J. Kathleen Cheney

  Marina felt her hands curl into fists. “Who? What person?”

  “The woman who jumped off the palace rooftop back in the Golden City.”

  The woman who killed the prince the previous fall? “But I thought she was a Canary. What would she have to do with Mother?”

  “She was also an agent of the Ministry of Intelligence.” Oriana paused, waiting for her to take that in. “She said to me once that I look like Mother. She had to have known her.”

  “And you think she killed Mother.” Marina wrapped her arms about herself, chilled all the way through now. “I’m glad she’s dead, then.”

  “The problem is that someone in the ministry was protecting her. They were aiding in her plan to assassinate the prince. They condoned her actions, including her efforts to kill me. And Father was exiled because he was asking questions about what Mother wrote in her journal.”

  All this time she’d thought he’d been exiled for his unpopular political beliefs. That had been common in those days. “Why didn’t Father ever tell me?”

  “Because he was concerned you might run off and do something about it,” Oriana said. “That’s part of the reason Duilio and I came to Grandmother’s house. She had Mother’s journal here, and we came to retrieve it.”

  “Does it say who that woman was working with?”

  Oriana held her hands wide. “It was stolen from this house before I read it.”

  “Stolen?”

  “Yes. That’s what we intended to ask Joaquim to find. We hoped that if he could find the thief, we would learn who wanted the journal badly enough to send someone here to steal it. That’s our only way to find out who’s responsible for Mother’s death.”

  Marina folded her arms over her chest. “Then I’m going with him.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Joaquim felt far better after bathing and taking a nap. Once he’d stepped outside his room, though, he realized he didn’t know where he was. Where exactly would he find Marina? Or Duilio, for that matter.

  He closed his eyes and garnered a reassuring sense of Duilio. And Marina had been taken somewhere near Duilio, but that seemed to be in a different part of the big house. He couldn’t walk through the walls to reach them, so he traced his steps back until he saw an arch that led onto the courtyard with the fountain. He stopped and peered at the rooftops, hoping to get an idea of the layout of the house.

  The house continued back from the courtyard, and acquired a second floor at one point. There were arches on each side of the courtyard, leading off onto other hallways, so he walked straight back and ended up in a second courtyard, this one populated with a handful of wooden chaises with colorfully embroidered pillows. The comfortable furnishings suggested that they spent more time in this room, while the front courtyard seemed more formal.

  “Would you like me to show you around the house?” Marina asked from the archway to the left. “I’m not supposed to, but . . . well, I think Grandmother wouldn’t mind if I bent the rules.”

  Her appearance took his breath away. Marina’s brown hair was pulled high atop her head with two pearl combs, and it trailed in curls down her back. She wore a black skirt that came almost to her ankles but left her silvery feet bare. Over that, she wore only a blue vest held together in front by a brooch, leaving an inch of skin exposed between it and the skirt. Her arms were uncovered as well, and on her neck he could see the narrow lines of her gill slits. In Portugal, a man generally didn’t see this much of a lady’s skin unless she was his wife—or if she had a similar relationship. His mouth went dry.

  Was this the true Marina Arenias? Was this how she preferred to dress? He took a careful breath and hoped he sounded normal. “I would like that.”

  She stepped down into the courtyard, closer to him. “This is where we spend evenings. And mornings as well, sometimes. Like a sitting room back in Portugal.”

  “What if it rains?” he asked.

  “We go inside,” she said in an exasperated tone. “There are a pair of sitting rooms and a dining hall. Plus, Grandmother has a large library.”

  He’d meant that to be a rhetorical question, but clearly she hadn’t heard it that way. “Do you miss it here?”

  Her eyes rose to meet his and she seemed about to answer, but paused. “Some things,” she said after a moment. “I miss how comfortable this house is. I miss the sea and the beach and sleeping out on the terrace at night. Mostly I miss being a child.”

  “But?”

  “But I don’t miss dressing like this. I’ve gotten accustomed to my dresses and my shoes and . . .”

  Oddly, that reassured him. I don’t want other men to see her dressed this way. No, I don’t want her to be the sort of woman who likes to dress this way.

  He felt his cheeks heat with shame. It was a horribly judgmental thought, particularly since he’d always considered himself fair-minded toward others. That sort of thought had led to centuries of humans labeling the sereia as more lascivious than other peoples. He knew Marina better than that. How she was dressed should not affect his opinion of her.

  “How could you not be more comfortable without shoes?” he finally asked.

  Marina flushed. “It’s fine not to wear shoes in my apartment, but I feel like you’re staring at my feet now.”

  Joaquim shook his head. “If I were to stare,” he admitted, “it would not be at your feet.”

  “I have lovely feet,” she protested incongruously. “Everyone says so.”

  He dutifully turned his eyes down toward her feet. They were attractive, although he wasn’t certain what made them so. They weren’t tiny, nor did she have high delicate arches, but the scale pattern of her skin made them seem shapely. He wanted to touch them now, something he’d never thought about feet before. Perhaps the feet were important here, a strange contrast with their apparent nonchalance about a woman’s breasts. “I have to agree,” he said. “Your feet are lovely. Do you resent that I haven’t noticed before?”

  “You haven’t seen my feet before today,” she said softly.

  He hadn’t, but that wasn’t what he actually meant. He stepped closer. “Do you resent that I’ve . . . always treated you like you’re human?”

  He hadn’t, actually. At first he’d been taken aback when he learned she was nonhuman. Duilio’s lack of concern over the same attribute in his own wife had reassured Joaquim, but Oriana and Marina were very different women. He was occasionally surprised that they were sisters.

  Marina shook her head. “I like being human. No one expects anything of me there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She folded her hands together. “My mother’s family are politicians and spies, and I never wanted that for myself. It would be horrible. I’m a runt, and no one would ever take me seriously. I’m not sure what I do want, but at least in Portugal, I have more choices. It’s . . . easier.”

  Runt? Did she actually believe that of herself? Joaquim found himself staring at her, trying to figure out how she’d deceived him into thinking her self-confident.

  There was a delicate cough behind Marina, and her white-haired grandmother stepped into the courtyard. “You are small, child,” the old woman pronounced in a stern voice, “but you are not a runt. You take after your mother’s father, who was very clever, I’m told, even if short.”

  Marina’s gaze dropped to her feet again.

  Joaquim hadn’t realized it before, but Marina did seem to be small for one of her people’s women. Oriana stood a full hand taller, or more. Marina’s grandmother and the servants he’d seen so far were almost as tall, and the women at the harbor had been large and strong enough for him to initially mistake them for men.

  “Now, before you descend into further self-deprecation,” her grandmother said, “we’re about to have dinner served. Why don’t you bring your sweetheart back to the dining hall?” With that the old woman turn
ed back into the hallway and disappeared from his sight.

  Eyes downcast, Marina gestured for Joaquim to follow her.

  He grabbed her hand to keep her from slipping away. “Marina, will you marry me?”

  Her wide eyes finally rose to meet his. The moment stretched in silence until she finally asked, “Why now?”

  His stomach went cold. I thought she would say yes. Without question. “I planned to ask you on the first of May, after lunch.” His words rushed together, spilling out. “We were going to visit the gardens at the Palácio de Cristal, remember? I meant to buy you a fine pearl ring. I already have one picked out. I asked your father’s permission last Wednesday night, but I couldn’t ask you until I’d told you the truth about myself. And then I had to come here, and didn’t know when I’d be back. Then we were on the ship, and it just wasn’t the right time, and I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask you here, so—”

  He didn’t finish whatever rambling statement he’d been about to make. Marina threw her arms about his neck, rising on her toes to do so. “Yes. I don’t need a fine ring or anything like that.”

  He suddenly felt warm all over, as if the sun had come from behind the clouds. He held her waist to steady her, all too aware of the bare flesh under his fingers, and the lightly clad body pressed against his chest. “Marina, I want everything to be perfect for you.”

  She drew back, shaking her head. “I don’t need perfect, Joaquim. If we’re married before we leave, no one will say anything about our traveling together. Grandmother can have the priest come here, if you’re willing. He’d marry us right away if she told him to.”

  Ah yes, this is the island that’s partly Christian. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Her jaw firmed. “I won’t let you change your mind either.”

  Not that I want to. “Shall we go tell your grandmother?”

  Marina stepped out of his grasp, a calculating expression flitting across her features. “No.”

  It was his turn to shake his head. “Why not?”

  “We need to tell her the other way around. If we tell her you’ve accepted my courtship, then . . .” She flushed again.

  And he suddenly grasped what she meant, even if she couldn’t quite say it. That would mean they were already married. Joaquim licked his lips, feeling his breath go short.

  If they followed her plan, tonight would be their wedding night.

  How the hell am I supposed to make it through dinner with that on my mind?

  * * *

  Marina hadn’t forgotten the rules of etiquette used here. And while Duilio clearly knew when to pass platters and about talking out of turn, Joaquim didn’t. He spoke to her a couple of times without being addressed before realizing that was forbidden. He didn’t know how to signal to the servants that he’d finished—or not finished—a course. Marina found herself gesturing to them in his stead after they took away his plate when he hadn’t had a spoonful of his soup yet. Her grandmother took it in stride, but if this were another woman’s table, he might have been asked to go eat with the children until he learned his manners.

  After the meal, Duilio escorted him out to the second courtyard, possibly to smooth his ruffled nerves. Marina didn’t know if she would have been comfortable speaking out in front of Joaquim. “He’s accepted my courtship, Grandmother. I wanted you to know.”

  Oriana smiled, but didn’t comment, leaving this between them. Her grandmother patted Marina’s hand gently. “It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it, child?”

  “Yes, Grandmother.”

  “Do you have his mother’s blessing?”

  Marina’s mouth fell open. She hadn’t thought of that.

  Oriana stepped in, saving her. “Joaquim’s mother is dead, Grandmother, but Lady Ferreira is his foster mother, and I can assure you she approves of the match.”

  Her grandmother gestured her acceptance. “And how long are you planning on staying?”

  Marina shot a glance at Oriana. They hadn’t discussed that yet.

  “We’re expecting to hear from the Americans tomorrow,” Oriana said promptly, “so they need to stay for that at a minimum. Why don’t we take this into the courtyard? Joaquim will also need to hear it. If nothing else, it could be helpful to have a fresh perspective on our information.”

  So they headed that way, Oriana stopping at the door to ask a servant there to fetch two of the guards to join them. They entered the back courtyard where Duilio and Joaquim had already taken two of the wooden chairs. Her grandmother gestured for them to sit, and a moment later two of the guards arrived, an older woman with hard eyes and a stocky younger woman. Judging by their uniforms, they must be the officers of the Portuguese guard—the female officers.

  Marina eyed them curiously. It wouldn’t be her choice to be a soldier, not any more than she’d want to be a spy. These women must be more like sereia than she was herself. Since she’d arrived in Portugal, she always conformed to human society’s expectations, even if she didn’t truly believe they were right. It had been easy. These women had to be very determined. She suspected they put up with terrible ridicule—perhaps worse—back home.

  Oriana came to stand behind her grandmother’s chair. “On the first night we were here, not quite two weeks ago, someone broke into our bedroom and stole Mother’s journal.”

  She relayed the details they’d dug up so far, a tale of two unlikely thieves. Marina scowled as she puzzled over the missing parts. “If you’d just arrived,” Marina said when there was a pause in the story, “how did they know you would have the journal in your bedroom? And how did the boy know which room you’d be in?”

  “Good questions,” Duilio answered. “As to the second, we suspect someone who knew the layout of the house informed them, which means either someone on our embassy staff, or anyone who’s ever visited this house before. We were given the best guest room. As to your first question, we don’t know. They could have simply taken a chance.”

  “A seer could have told them you would have the journal,” Joaquim said.

  Duilio shrugged. “A good seer, I suppose. More likely they could have predicted that the boy’s quest would be successful. It’s interesting to note, though, that the boy was probably illiterate, since he stole every book I had in my desk, including my personal journal, which had only a handful of pages filled.”

  “Is there any chance the boy was after your books and not the journal?” Marina asked.

  “It’s possible,” Duilio said, “but there doesn’t seem to be much motive for stealing the old Haggard novel I was reading. When Oriana and I looked at the journal, it included a hidden cipher, but we didn’t have time to decipher that to see what it said.”

  Marina licked her lips, her mouth dry. Her mother had always liked puzzles. On occasion her father’s office handled confidential materials that were encrypted, and she’d done some of the deciphering work. It was tedious, but she could do it. “We have to get it back.”

  “Which is where you come in,” Duilio said to Joaquim. “Our information is that the woman who stole it is headed to Barcelona, but we don’t know where she’ll go from there.”

  “Two sereia should be easy to track in Barcelona,” Joaquim said cautiously.

  “No,” Oriana said. “The woman’s had her webbing cut and the boy is webless. In human clothes, they can both pass as human.”

  “Webless?” Joaquim repeated.

  Oriana explained that to Joaquim, and Marina could almost feel his eyes on her. They’d never discussed that topic—what their children might be like. Perhaps he’d just assumed they would be human. Or had he even thought about children?

  “We’re hoping the Americans have turned up something more helpful,” Duilio added. “They have far more resources than we do here. They’re sending someone tomorrow afternoon to hand over what information they’ve found.”

&nb
sp; Marina shook her head. “Why would the Americans care?”

  “They owed me a favor,” Duilio said with a dismissive shrug. “I suggest revisiting this in the morning, since it’s almost dark. Joaquim can help us find Costa then.”

  Joaquim nodded quickly, and Marina realized that Duilio intended for him to use his gift of finding to locate the lost man.

  Duilio rose. “A good night’s sleep is the best counsel, isn’t it?”

  Apparently that was the end of their meeting. Marina rose along with the others, uncertain where all this left her. Duilio drew Joaquim away in the direction of the males’ hall. Joaquim mouthed something at her that she didn’t grasp. And then he was gone.

  Oriana spoke to the two guard officers a moment longer, and then walked with Grandmother out of the courtyard, leaving Marina alone there. She threw up her hands in disgust. What was she supposed to do now?

  CHAPTER 15

  Are you going to read me a lecture?” Joaquim asked once they reached his bedroom.

  He dreaded the idea of having this sort of talk with Duilio. While not anywhere near as promiscuous as Alessio had been, Duilio had been experienced with women when Oriana came into his life. Joaquim wasn’t. Yes, there had been a few girls before he went to seminary, but he’d always taken his relationships with women far more seriously than had any of his brothers.

  “I only want to keep you from making an ass of yourself,” Duilio said. “Oriana says you’ve accepted Marina’s courtship, which means you’re expected to share her bed now.”

  “I am aware of that,” Joaquim said, the tips of his ears burning.

  “I have one thing to warn you about.” Duilio folded his arms across his chest.

  Joaquim grabbed his bag off the bench. “I know she has sharp teeth.”

  Duilio chuckled. “Yes, something to keep in mind, but that wasn’t it. I’m relatively certain she’s a virgin, Joaquim.”