by Sarah Ahiers
We lay side by side, pressed against each other in the smallness of his bed. His skin warm against mine.
“Where is Kuch?” I asked, breaking the silence between us.
Nev leaned over me and pulled her pouch off the table. He opened the drawstring and slipped his hand in. Kuch slithered out, twisting over his fingers.
“Wait,” he said, then slowly placed his hand over mine. Kuch slid across my skin, smooth and soft and warm, so unlike what I thought she would feel like.
“I thought she would bite me?” I asked, watching her as her tongue flicked in and out.
“You smell like me,” he said.
We fell back into silence as Kuch explored our fingers. The lull in the conversation made me sleepy. I briefly wondered at the time. Finally Nev put Kuch back in her bag and returned her to the table.
“Do you want to talk about it now?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” I said. Which was the truth.
“Did someone else hurt you?” he asked.
I laughed, I couldn’t help it. “I think I’ve been hurting all my life, I just didn’t know why.”
And then I told him. Told him how I’d come here with a plan to learn about my mother only to discover that my mother was alive after all, and that I had been born to the Da Vias, but Lea, my aunt, the woman who had raised me, had stolen me as an infant from my mother.
“She killed my father,” I said. And this was the hardest truth to bear, that she could kill her own brother. And for what reason? To steal a child? How was his life worth less than mine?
Nev made a noncommittal noise.
“What?” I asked.
“It is just . . . you do not know if any of this is true yet, yes? You have only heard one side, and you yourself said they are not trustworthy. So maybe you need to give your family, the ones who raised you, a chance to explain. Maybe it is true and maybe it is not.”
“What if I ask her, ask them, though, and they lie to me? Deny it all?”
“Then . . . then I guess you cross those plains when you get there. Either way, it seems a lot of people want you in their life.”
“Do you want me in your life?” I asked quietly.
Nev shifted beside me. “Yes.”
“Why?”
He turned his neck to face me. “You are . . . different,” he said after a pause.
I snorted. “I’m not a traveler, if that’s what you mean.”
“Yes and no,” he said. “You are strong. You do what you want. You are never frightened.”
I looked at the top of the tent. “If I was more afraid,” I said, “things would probably go better for me in general.” Maybe I’d be less rash.
“No.” Nev shook his head. “You would not be Allegra then.”
“Yes, but being me doesn’t always work out. This me never fit with my Family. I know now why that is, but I spent so long trying to be someone different.”
“Did it make you happy? Did it work?”
“No.”
“Be you,” he said. “Everything else will fall into place.”
I closed my eyes. “I don’t think it’s as clear or as well-meaning as all that. I love Yvain. But it also felt . . . wrong. Like I didn’t belong there, either. What if I don’t belong anywhere?”
He fell silent then, thinking about something.
“Do you kill a lot of people in Yvain?”
I paused. What qualified as a lot? “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve killed in the past. I’ll kill in the future. Most of the people I kill are not good people. They are killers themselves, maybe, or some other sort of villain.”
“And killing them gives you enough money to live on?”
“Sometimes. But I also sell perfumes and concoctions.”
“Ah,” he laughed, and pressed his face against my neck. “No wonder you smell so good.”
I snorted. “The Saldanas used to be rich,” I said, “but that was before I was born.”
“Riches come and go. When they go, we travel once more.”
“Do you travel a lot?” I ran my hands over the skin of his stomach and he twitched, ticklish.
“Yes.”
“Do you not like being home?”
He paused, weighing his answer. “When I travel, things are different. I have more . . . space, maybe.”
“Freedom?” I asked.
He shrugged.
I looked up at the dark canvas roof over our heads. “I would love to travel like you. See the world. Be free.”
“No one can be free.” He shook his head. “To be free is to have no one. To be alone. The more people we love, the less free we are.”
“We can be free and have our family, too,” I said.
Nev made a noncommittal hum.
“My Family keeps me caged,” I said to him. “They say it’s to keep me safe.”
“They keep you safe because they love you. If they did not, they would not care about your safety.”
I rolled my eyes. He sounded like Lea. Nev shifted and I moved my shoulder so his elbow wasn’t jabbing me in the ribs. “Do you have family?” I asked.
“A sister. Older. She is in charge of our status. She is pregnant, which is good. She lost a baby last year, so a new one will help.”
“I don’t have any siblings. Just a cousin. Emile. He’s getting married soon.”
“The son of your aunt and uncle?”
“No. They have no children.”
I’d heard Les and Lea once, discussing it when I was young and prone to eavesdropping. There were no children for them. They’d died, once, killed by the Da Vias, and been brought back by Safraella, and maybe dying and returning meant one got another chance at life, yes, but one didn’t get to bring any new life into the world. “Emile is my aunt’s nephew,” I continued. “I’m her niece. Children of her brothers, who are dead.”
Murdered. One at the hands of the Da Vias. One at the hands of Lea.
“My father traveled six or seven years ago and did not return. My mother died a few years after that. Wasting illness.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He shrugged again. “Who can say why Meska, or any of the gods, take who They take, eh?”
“My aunt probably could. At least with Safraella. She’s Her chosen one. She met Her, once.”
“Truly?” Surprise colored Nev’s voice.
“Yes. She died. Safraella resurrected her.”
Nev made a noise I couldn’t decipher. “Well,” he continued, “those of us not chosen must make do with our small knowledge. Chorav dend e alo postia chorev.”
I worked it out. “What we have is all we have?”
He laughed. “Close enough. Your Mornian is not terrible.”
“I only know a little,” I admitted. “My uncle doesn’t speak it all that much.”
“Your uncle yesterday.” He shifted again.
“Yes.” Thinking about Les made my chest hurt. Lea . . . Lea doing what she’d done made a small sort of sense. Her Family had been murdered. She’d been killed and resurrected. Her life had become a madness. But Les . . . I’d thought I was his favorite.
“He had some of the features of a traveler,” Nev continued.
“He’s only half,” I said quietly. “He’s lived in Yvain since he was a child.”
“Still, though,” Nev said. “He must have spoken enough Mornian for you to learn some.”
“My great-uncle raised him. They speak it, sometimes.”
“Hm. Well, what about this? Mos phel skornu sir?”
I turned it around in my head. “Something like, ‘are you . . . ready or eager . . . to try again?’”
“Close enough,” Nev said, and pulled me to him, lips on mine once more.
sixteen
WE FELL ASLEEP, PRESSED AGAINST EACH OTHER IN HIS small bed. My sleep was restless, though, with dreams of fires and monsters and other things that reminded me of the nightmares I’d had at home. When Nev’s stirring woke me, I was glad to be fr
ee of them.
“What time is it?” I mumbled.
Nev climbed over me and stumbled to his feet, swearing softly in the dark. “Dawn, soon.”
I closed my eyes. I’d stayed out too late. My Family would be wondering where I was. And maybe I should have felt bad about it and worried about the trouble I’d be in, but I didn’t care about any of that anymore. I needed to confront them about the truth. I needed to know why they had done what they’d done, and why they’d lied to me for so long.
And then I needed to tell them I was staying.
Nev fumbled with something and the lamp on his table flared to life, filling the room with its warm, yellow glow.
“I have to go,” I said, though I didn’t move. Leaving was the last thing I wanted to do.
He sighed and sat down. I sat up, making room for him.
“Is this it?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” It was a lie. I just didn’t want to say good-bye to him. I thought Lovero would be adventurous and fun, but in the end it hadn’t been much of any of those things. The one bright spot had been Nev, and though he would be here as long as the menagerie was, I wouldn’t be able to step foot in Lilyan once I joined the Da Vias.
I leaned against his shoulder.
“Maybe you could return someday,” I said. “Travel to Ravenna. To visit.”
He nodded. But we both knew it wouldn’t matter. There would be no waiting for each other. This wasn’t some romantic story performed by players. This was real life, and I’d known what I’d gotten myself into when I’d first met him. I just hadn’t known what else would befall me and how easy it had been to fall for Nev.
“You . . .” he started to say, then rubbed his face, scrunching his eyes. “I travel,” he started over. “I travel so much. I see places. I see people. But I do not ever really see them. Yes?” he asked, and I nodded.
“I see you, Allegra. I see you. I see your strength. I see your heart. I do not want to stop seeing you. You are the best travel. There will never be another like this one.”
I kissed him again, soft and quiet in his room. Maybe, if Safraella was kind, or if Meska, Culda, and Boamos were kind, we would find each other again.
But I’d never known kindness like that from the gods.
I grabbed my clothes from the floor. My necklace slipped out of the pile and tumbled to my feet. I slid my dress over my head.
Nev gasped.
“What?” I ran my fingers through my hair.
“Where did you get this?” He held my necklace in his palm, staring at the stone and the blue color radiating from the center.
I reached for it. “Why?”
He snatched his hand away.
I paused. “Nev—”
“Allegra, where did you get this?” he repeated more forcefully.
“It was a gift.” I held out my hand, waiting for him to return the necklace. The mood had shifted dramatically, and not for the better.
“Who gave this to you?”
“Why does that matter? What are you going on about?”
“This cannot be,” he said to himself.
I snatched the necklace from his hand and slipped it over my head.
He looked at me then, and his expression was a mixture of many things, but mostly fear.
I relented. “My uncle gave it to me for my birthday.”
He blinked, then grabbed his pants, dragging them up his legs. He snatched his hat. “You must leave. Right now.”
“What?”
He was frantic, shoving my shoes toward my feet and tossing me my bodice.
“I said you need to leave.” He straightened, and this time his expression had hardened. “Do not come back, not to see me, not even to the menagerie.”
“What are you talking about?” I tugged my bodice over my head. The ties had mostly stayed laced and I pulled on them now, tightening the stiff fabric until I could knot it into place. “Have you gone crazy?”
He shook his head. “It does not matter. This is the end between us. There cannot be anything more.”
“I thought you saw me?” I asked.
He dropped his eyes to the floor, wringing his hat between his hands.
This was it? This was how we said good-bye after everything, with him shoving me out of his room after we’d slept together, telling me not to come back?
It was too warm in here, too warm and too tight. His room was a trick, like his kisses, pulling me in until I was trapped.
I shoved my feet into my shoes. I needed to leave, needed to get out of here.
I twisted my hair at my neck.
He stared at me, some sort of emotion flickering through his eyes, then he looked away.
I turned and shoved past the curtain. If there had been a door I would have slammed it.
I walked down the hallway and out of the common room to find myself in the middle of the bustling menagerie.
I pushed my way through the crowd, not caring who my elbows jabbed, until I was free of it completely and on the streets of Lilyan once more.
The traveler at the entrance did a double take as I exited. He glared at me, and even after I merged with the crowd, I felt his eyes on my back.
I took a deep breath, urging my body to relax, my mind to calm. But my throat felt tight and my eyes burned with unshed tears. I fought against the urge to look back, to peer into the menagerie, to see if Nev was there, standing by his snake cages, with Kuch twisting around his fingers like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed.
But I didn’t. Because it wasn’t true.
Everything had changed.
I fled from the menagerie, fighting against my tears. If I started to cry, I wouldn’t be able to stop, and then I would just be some strange weeping girl.
The streets were still full of people, though not as packed as earlier. People were heading home, to their beds, to sleep the morning and afternoon away, only to continue with the festivities for one more night. And then, their lives would return to normal.
Not mine, though. Mine would be different. Even if I changed my mind, decided to go home to Yvain, continue with my caged life where I didn’t belong, things would never be the same for me. I knew truths I hadn’t before. They altered everything.
I reached the house without even really being aware that my feet had carried me there. The windows were filled with the warm glow of lamplight. They were home, and awake. I wouldn’t escape a confrontation.
I picked up my dress and pushed my way through the courtyard gate and then into the house.
Lea and Les were in the living room, dressed in their leathers, loading their pockets with knives and swords and poisons.
We stared at one another, the house still, the only sound our breaths, until finally Les exhaled loudly. He took two long steps and pulled me into an embrace. He smelled like his leathers, and the ball still, warm wine and tiny little foods.
“We didn’t know where you were,” he whispered to me harshly. “There was a rumor at the ball, after you left, that the Addamos had carried out some sort of plot in the street that had led to one of their deaths. We saw your abandoned carriage, and the blood in the street. Not enough for two people, but still, when we arrived home expecting to find you, you weren’t here.”
Lea set her sword on the counter and pushed her bone mask to the top of her head. Each movement was precise, carefully controlled. It was just a cover, a way to actually control her emotions. She thought the mask disguised them, but she was wrong.
“I can’t believe you lied to us,” she said slowly. Les released me.
“I didn’t lie,” I said. “My stomach hurt. I wanted to go home.”
“But you didn’t go home.” Still no yelling. Still just calm.
“I had intended to. There was no lie.”
Lea glared at me then, but I stood my ground.
“This, right here, is why you can’t just walk alone in Lovero.” Lea started to pace. “The Addamos could have killed you.”
“Well,” I said, “it seemed they were planning on it, but here I stand, unharmed, while one of them lies dead.” I waved at my body, dress and all, showing them how unharmed I was.
Of course, I hadn’t really expected the rest of the Addamos to fall so easily, but Lea didn’t need to know how close it had been. How much fear had rolled through me.
“Don’t joke about this,” Lea snapped. “It isn’t funny.”
I sat on the couch, my dress puffing out around me. “I’m not joking,” I said. “I understand how serious it was.”
“Do you? Really?”
“Yes!” I yelled. “I’m not a child anymore, no matter how much you treat me like one. It was a bad situation with the Addamos, but I didn’t bring it on myself. You have a right, maybe, to be angry at me for not going home, but it’s unfair to be angry with me because I was attacked. I handled myself well in the fight, without leathers, without a mask. I dropped one and kept them away from me until they were scared off.”
I closed my mouth with a snap. I hadn’t meant to bring that up, hadn’t meant to mention the Da Vias’ interference at all. At least not yet, not when I didn’t have control of the conversation. If Lea knew about their help, she would grab that and hold on like a ghost with a body.
Lea tilted her head. Les leaned forward in his chair.
“Scared off how?” Lea’s voice was deceptively smooth.
“It’s nothing.” I leaned back against the couch.
“Allegra,” Les snapped.
I ground my teeth. “I had some help.”
“Help from whom?” Lea stopped her pacing. She stood loose, easy, and anyone who didn’t know her would think she was at peace. But I knew this calmness, this looseness was how she looked before she killed someone. Lea was her most dangerous when she was calm.
“Another Family.”
“The Caffarellis?” Les was offering me an easy way out of this mess. Because he knew it couldn’t be the Caffarellis. They would have told Lea and Les if they had helped me.
“The Da Vias,” I said.
Lea inhaled sharply. She and Les exchanged one of their glances, their glances that said there was a secret here, right in this room.