by Sarah Ahiers
“I’m not scared.” I looked back to the snake. The scales above its eyes made it seem like it had horns.
“Hmm.” The traveler boy took a step until he stood beside me. “That is not what your jump said.”
“I was startled. There’s a difference.”
“Hmm,” the boy said again. I got the feeling he said it frequently, a noncommittal noise that was yet, somehow, completely committal. “You are not from around here.”
I faced him. He was nice to look at. His cheekbones were a bit too sharp for my taste, though it may have just been the lanterns hanging from the ropes above the menagerie to better illuminate the animals. “Neither are you.”
“I am a traveler,” he said. “I am never from around here.”
“Except for Mornia.”
The boy smiled slowly, his teeth very white in the dark. He reached out and his fingers lifted a strand of my hair and tugged. I let him.
“You leave your hair down when all the Loverans pin it or cover it. And your dress is more practical. Rennes, I would say. Yvain.”
My turn to smile. “Oh, I can dress impractically if I choose.”
Flirting. We’d slipped into flirtation and I hadn’t even noticed. I took in the boy as a whole. Close to my age and my same height. He seemed fit and strong. His left forearm had scars along the length of it. From tiger claws, I knew, which meant he was trusted enough to handle the large cats.
This. Maybe this was what I needed. Maybe this would help me forget everything.
The boy spread his arms wide. “Do you like what you see?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He laughed, a single bark, seemingly amused by my brazenness. “Well, I am Nev.” He wore a coin pouch on his hip and something inside set the bag squirming.
“Allegra.” I pointed at the pouch. “It seems your coins wish to escape.”
Nev untied it from his belt. “It is not for coins.”
He loosened the drawstring and carefully slipped his hand inside. When he pulled it back out he had a small snake draped across his fingers. The white snake had black eyes and a sort of pearlescent sheen about it. It looked very delicate and almost . . . cute, if something cold and scaly could qualify. “Her name is Kuch.”
“‘Darling,’” I translated, and he looked up at me with wide eyes, surprised. “My . . .” I paused, never quite sure how to refer to Les or even Lea to strangers. “My uncle is half traveler.”
He raised his eyebrows. It was uncommon for travelers to have children with people who were not other travelers.
I kept my eyes on the snake and reached out a finger. “Can I touch her?”
Nev yanked his hand and the snake away. My fingers floated in the air between us, awkward.
“No,” he said. “She is venomous. She looks sweet but she is only that way with me.” He slipped Kuch back into her pouch and cinched it tight once more. “She tries to bite anyone who does not smell like me.”
I dropped my hand to my side. “Then why do you keep her?”
He blinked, like he’d never been asked the question before. Maybe he hadn’t. Or maybe he didn’t actually show his deadly little viper to that many girls.
“I am really good with the snakes, and I like her.”
He shook his head. The way he said like, though, made me think he actually cared about his little pet more than he was willing to admit to a strange girl wandering around his menagerie.
I pointed to the horned snake that had struck at the wire. “What about him?”
Nev stepped beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin against mine. “He is venomous, too, and angry. He does not like the lanterns.” He pointed a single finger at the rope lights above us.
“Then why don’t you blow them out for him?”
“Because then all you paying guests would not be able to see him, and if you could not see him, you would not pay to come back tomorrow with your friends and all their money.”
“Huh.”
He looked at me, the shadows hiding his expression. “What?”
“It just seems because you’re responsible for him, for all the animals, you’d want to make them happy.”
He shrugged. “They are happy. Most of the time. We take good care of them for their entire lives, and every now and then they have to come traveling with us. How do you think we earn enough money to feed them?” He pointed behind me at the crowd of people I’d left behind. “The tiger needs a whole goat every five to ten days.”
I grabbed his hand and traced my fingers along the scars on his arm. I felt more than heard him catch his breath. I couldn’t help my smile. I liked being able to catch him off guard. “You take care of the tigers, too,” I said. “That’s what these scars mean, right?”
He looked me directly in the eyes, and then grabbed my fingers with his own. His hand was callused, but not like a clipper’s. Our calluses were from weapons. Nev’s calluses were in different spots, and I suddenly felt a desperate need to explore every inch of his hands to find each one.
“Yes. Tigers and snakes.” He leaned closer to me. “It can be very dangerous. I can be very dangerous, so maybe you do not want to get so close.”
His statement sounded more like a question. Or an invitation. I grinned, his fingers warm in mine.
“Oh, I know all about danger, and about getting closer.” I tugged him toward me and he smiled again, the same slash of white teeth in his wide mouth.
“Come.” He pulled me away from the snakes.
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here.”
He drew me past another row of cages. A traveler woman shouted a question to Nev in Mornian and he responded, but I didn’t know enough of the language to understand all that was said.
Nev pushed aside a curtain of colorful fabric and then we were away from the menagerie and the Loverans and everyone else and instead behind the cages in an area the travelers had crafted as their own space, safe from prying eyes. There was a small table, made from a barrel and a piece of wood, and stools encircling it. A bottle of what appeared to be wine sat corked on the table with tiny glasses beside it. Canvas had been draped overhead, to protect them from too much sun, or rain.
But Nev pulled me past the table, into a darkened area made by the backs of two menagerie cages. I stepped into the corner, spine pressed against the wooden walls, and pulled him after me into the shadows.
He leaned closer, but then paused, his grin slipping. “This is fine? You will not have friends looking for you?”
By friends, I knew he meant a suitor, someone who would take offense at the two of us sneaking off together. But I couldn’t help thinking about my Family. I’d been gone awhile.
I shook my head. “No. No one to worry about—”
He pressed his mouth against mine, cutting me off. His lips were warm and he tasted like oranges and something else I couldn’t name. I tried not to think about how I probably tasted like the fish I’d been eating.
He pulled away for breath but I tugged him forward again. This. This was what I needed. Knowing it was temporary, that the lanterns at night, the festival, this boy who kissed me, would all simply be a memory in a few days made me want him even more, made me pull him closer, to keep him with me forever if only I kissed him hard enough.
Nev made a noise against my lips and slid his hand from my hip to the front of my bodice. The coins I had stashed there clinked together.
Nev’s hand paused, lips still pressed against mine. Then he pulled away. He reached two fingers past the top of my bodice, purposely not touching my skin, even though my skin practically ached for him to touch me. He hooked the loop of my coin purse and pulled it free of my bodice.
He held it in his palm and then looked up at me. I couldn’t read his expression. It was dark, but I also didn’t know him well enough to know what he was thinking as he held my coins and stared at me.
“Did you think I would steal them from you?” His voice was quiet
and still. Offense. That was what his expression meant.
I grabbed my coin purse and tugged it off his palm. He lowered his hand.
“Yes,” I answered truthfully. Lying would get us nowhere, and anyway, I’d had enough lies today.
His eyes narrowed.
“Boamos is a god of thievery and wealth and it didn’t seem right to leave any of my wealth so open to thievery,” I said. “I meant no insult by it.”
“We follow his tenets of wealth. We do not steal. Only children steal. It is permitted because they are children.”
I shrugged one shoulder, hooking my coin purse back on my hip. “I didn’t know. I meant no disrespect. If I thought you a common thief, I wouldn’t have come back here with you.”
He dropped his gaze to the ground.
“Do you regret bringing me back here?” I asked quietly.
He shook his head. “No.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No.” More forceful this time, and he raised his eyes to meet mine again.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“People think we are thieves. We are not thieves.”
I grabbed his hand and slowly pulled him toward me again. “Why do you care what the common think?” I asked. “You do not share the same god, and if one of your gods commands that you steal, then steal and be not ashamed of it. Let them worship their own gods.”
He pulled his fingers free and stepped back. “You are one of them.”
I exhaled and leaned against the corner. I’d wanted distraction from my life, from the thoughts and truths that were twisting around inside my head, not more problems. “One what?”
“Murderers. Have you come here to murder me?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He frowned.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not laughing at you. Not really. But yes, I am a disciple of Safraella. A clipper. And no, I haven’t come to murder you. A clipper wouldn’t murder in the name of Safraella without their bone mask.” I pointed at my face. “No bone mask. No death.”
“How do I know you will not come and find me later?”
I fought against a sigh. “Has someone paid to have you killed?”
He shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off me. “Not as far as I know.”
“Then you’re fine. I’ll tell you a secret.” I leaned closer to him. “Most clippers don’t kill unless they’re getting paid.”
I tapped my coin purse and the coins clinked together. I leaned back.
Nev took this all in. I could practically see him rearranging me in his mind, taking what he thought I’d been and changing me into what I was.
Lea had explained how some people could never really wrap their heads around the idea that clippers could be people, too. Even Loverans who made their home side by side with the Families and welcomed their dark work. If Nev was one of those people, there would be no continuing with him.
“One last time,” I said. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No. No.” He must have come to a conclusion because he rubbed the top of his head, adjusting his hat, before he stepped closer once more. “It is just, I have never met a clipper before.”
“That you know of.”
His eyes widened and I wondered if I’d pushed him too far. But then he nodded and smiled. “That I know of.”
“What gave me away?” I asked.
“You called everyone the common. Like they are below you. And then your talk about the gods.”
I hooked my fingers around his belt and pulled him against me again. “Clippers are simply people, you know. For the most part.” I whispered this against his throat and he swallowed. “Sometimes we’re just looking for distractions.”
He tilted my chin up. “I can help you with that.”
And once more his lips tasted like oranges and when he pressed his body to mine again he somehow felt closer, with fewer secrets between us.
eleven
A GROUP OF MEN ENTERED THE BACK AREA, AND WHEN they spied us, they jeered good-naturedly until Nev grabbed my hand and pulled me away from their common room.
We entered a sort of hallway, with curtains draped everywhere. A few travelers peeked out at us as we walked past, but when they saw Nev they went back to whatever it was they’d been doing.
We reached a blue curtain on the right and Nev held it aside, gesturing me in.
The room was tiny compared to the common area we’d just left. A small bed stood to the left, a pallet, really, on top of some crates, with blankets and pillows, and a single stool sat beside a table that wasn’t much bigger than the stool itself.
Nev lit a lamp and the yellow light filled the small space, illuminating its tininess even more. He set Kuch, still in her pouch, on the table.
“Is this where you live?” I sat on the stool.
He sat on the pallet across from me. “This is where I sleep.”
The walls and ceiling of the room were made of more curtains. They had been secured to the ground but gaps in the corners allowed surprisingly fresh air to circulate. The lamp flickered on the table.
“The stool is not comfortable,” he stated. And he wasn’t wrong.
I snorted and slipped off the stool to sit beside him on his bed.
He gave me a strange look I couldn’t quite decipher. Like maybe he was surprised I had so easily capitulated.
And maybe I should have been surprised, too. I had come to the menagerie to try to forget the things I had learned. And it was working, at least as long as I was focused on Nev.
And I was focused on him. I liked him. I didn’t know I could like someone so quickly, and yet here I was, in his room, my leg pressed against his in the warmth of the night.
I slipped my hand behind his neck and pulled him toward me, ending the distance between us.
Kissing him was everything I wanted it to be. Better than before, if that was even possible.
We kissed and kissed and kissed in his room, only breaking apart for breath, or to shift position, or to draw closer to each other. I had no idea how long we spent like that, tangled together. It could have been minutes, or hours even. The sun could have risen and set again and I would have known nothing of the outside world. Just this tiny world of Nev’s room and Nev’s hands and breath and hoarse chuckles as he pressed his lips against my throat.
He slid his hands up my ribs and across the stiff bodice of my dress. He grumbled in frustration, at the lack of access.
I laughed and pulled away. My lips felt hot and I was sure my hair was a tangled mess.
“Sorry.” I tapped the front of my bodice.
“Before now,” he said, “I really liked the dress.”
I smiled. “Me too. But a break does sound nice. I could use something to drink.”
“That I can help you with.” He stood and offered me his hand, pulling me to my feet.
“Don’t you need to bring Kuch?” I pointed at the bag on the table.
Nev shook his head. “She is fine.”
Then we were out through the curtain door and heading back down the hall toward the common room.
The men from before sat around the table, smoking and drinking and playing cards.
They waved Nev over and he snatched two of the small glasses and the bottle from the table. The men complained but Nev waived them aside, pouring the liquid into the glasses and handing one to me.
“What is it?” I sniffed it dubiously. I expected it to have the dry, burning scent of strong liquor but it didn’t smell anything like that. It actually smelled slightly earthy.
“It is ahlo kheel. It is good. You will like it.”
Nev drank his in one swift gulp. The rest of the travelers watched, waiting to see if I’d back out. But I’d never been a coward, and certainly not when it came to food. Or drink.
I poured the liquid into my mouth. It was thicker than I thought it would be, more viscous. I swallowed, then coughed. “It’s oil!”
The men laughed at my surprise and
Nev smiled, taking the glass from me and putting it back on the table. “Yes.” He nodded. “It is good for you.”
“I’m sure it is,” I said, “but I didn’t know you could drink it.”
Nev nodded and pulled out a chair for me to sit at the table. The other men scooted over, making room for both of us. “We do.”
Nev gestured at one of the men, who scowled but then got up from the table to rustle through a crate. When he returned it was with a wooden plate filled with what looked like cured and salted meats and another bottle with more oil, this one not as green.
Nev poured me another small glass of the new oil.
“More?” I asked. “Doesn’t all oil just taste the same?”
The men laughed, but there was no malice in it. A few of them speared slices of meat and shoved them in their mouths. My stomach growled.
“Try it,” Nev said.
I took my glass and sipped gently. The men cheered at my surprised expression. The oil had a sweet, fragrant taste to it. “Like della fruit,” I said.
Nev passed me the tray of meat. “Many things can make oil. Some oils are better for breakfast, and some for dinner or dessert. And some for playing cards while traveling with Culda’s blessings.”
The slice of meat was heavily salted, but it was tender and sweet beneath the salt and I helped myself to a second slice.
Nev grabbed the deck of cards and dealt to everyone.
I swallowed, and took another small sip from the della fruit oil. “I don’t know how to play.”
“It is easy,” Nev said. “Even children play.”
“Well,” I said, gathering my cards before me, “I certainly hope I can best a child.”
The game was indeed easy to play. There were ghost cards and king cards and a single god card. Some kings could beat some ghosts and some ghosts could beat kings and the god card could beat everything. We took turns laying down our cards, attacking the other players, defeating cards that had been played against us until only one player remained to take the pot of coins wagered before the start of the round.