Chapter 29 Karinna
Karinna
Karinna mussed her hair and stumbled out of bed the next morning, finding Linh awaiting her. His face was drawn, and he’d traded his green forest clothing for dark, formal robes.
“What’s wrong with you?” Karinna said.
“I—nothing,” he said. “There has been a death. Many in Kotama mourn. It does not concern you. Cero bet-Dafra left for the library an hour ago,” Linh said. “I will take—”
“I feel ill.” Karinna made her voice as sour as possible. “Must be those root vegetables from last night. You can go.”
The Raan-Ruku squinted and looked her over. “You seem fine.”
Karinna pretended to heave, then ran to the bathroom and made disgusting retching sounds—Suf always had said she was a gifted actress. She drooled a bit and stumbled out, then mustered up a spectacular belch.
Linh flinched back, so disgusted that Karinna nearly laughed and gave up the game. Ruh’s grin flashed in her mind. He’d always been the only sibling who found such humor as entertaining as she did.
“Shall I, er, send a healer?”
“No,” Karinna said. “I don’t like anyone touching me when it’s pouring out both ends, if you know what I mean.”
At that, Linh fled.
Karinna chuckled when she’d closed the door, but she hadn’t won yet.
She was certain the Jaduna would check on her later, so she forced herself to wait.
To watch. Linh came back with a healer twice and Karinna grew progressively meaner.
On the second visit, she declared that if they didn’t go away, her head would explode from rage and make a mess in their pretty little guesthouse.
They let her be after that.
Abzi appeared at dusk when it was finally dark enough for Karinna to sneak out.
You are clever, Abzi said. It is a shame you have the body of a two-legs. You would have made a fine cat.
After exploring the forest, Abzi had discovered that each Jaduna Kin had its own section of the city. U’qaya, as a member of Kin Khind, lived in the northern part of Kotama. Which, of course, was the farthest away.
Her home was bound by many magics on the lower levels, Abzi said. But she was not expecting me, so the magic had no effect.
As if the Raani should absolutely expect a literal cat burglar.
With Abzi’s quiet guidance, Karinna slunk along the backways of the forest, through two portals, and into an area where every building was intricately wrought.
Kin Khind manipulated anything living. They had shaped the trees into homes, hedges into walls, and flower bushes into lampposts and benches.
It was a beautiful display and yet it felt overly constrained.
Manipulated. As if nature had been forced to cooperate, instead of being allowed its freedom.
But it also made for a great deal of cover.
Usually, her small stature irritated Karinna. She was four inches shorter than her mother and equal to her nan. But this night, it allowed her to slip easily through the shadows, to go unnoticed in places where her brother or father wouldn’t have been able to.
Still, she had to be careful. The Jaduna were gathering this night to mourn their fallen sorceress—whoever she was—which made for far more activity on the streets than normal.
Rather unfortunately, U’qaya appeared to be hosting a gathering.
Which meant her home, built in levels around a Gandafur tree, was well lit.
There would be no sneaking in on the ground level.
Come, Two-legs. You must— Abzi said something, but in the dark, Karinna could hardly see her, and therefore, she couldn’t understand her.
Abzi?
The cat reappeared. You must try harder. Speak into me. Not at me. Open yourself.
Karinna had no idea how to even begin trying. It frustrated her so. She could fight, plot, strategize—she’d even learned to stomach flying. Why the hells couldn’t she use the magic she was born with?
Because it’s bleeding useless.
But it wasn’t useless, was it? Communicating with Abzi had been hugely helpful on this mission. Try harder, she shouted at herself. She crouched and tried not to kick something as she asked the cat to explain herself twice more.
Up the branches. She finally understood as Abzi scampered to one of the huge trees behind U’qaya’s home tree. No magic high up. They mourn. Very sad. They grow inebriated. They will not see you if you are swift.
Abzi scurried higher, glancing down in clear impatience as Karinna clambered up behind her.
Karinna felt confident at the first branch.
Even when she got to more than twenty feet above the ground, she focused on grabbing the next branch and the next.
But at some point, she glanced down, realized she was more than forty feet up, and the world began to spin.
Her arms and legs trembled. A huge, hairy spider crawled over her wrist, but she didn’t fling it off, too terrified of losing her grip and falling.
Soft fur brushed her arm. Abzi. The cat batted away the spider with a hiss. Foolish eight-legs, she said. Quickly, Two-legs. You are close now.
The branches were still thick but so covered in vines and leaves that Karinna could barely see anything.
Abzi had trotted down a branch that hung over the upper levels of U’qaya’s home.
It was about as thick as a man’s torso and seemed sturdy.
But when Karinna was halfway across, it creaked ominously.
Bleeding hells. She shouldn’t have listened to a cat.
Cats thought nothing of climbing out on a branch fifty feet off the ground because if they fell, they’d land on their feet, not break them.
Sweat trickled down Karinna’s back, despite the cool weather. Her stomach churned. The ground was far below. Very far. Too far. She was going to fall, she was—
Focus on where you’re going. When you’re tempted to look down, make yourself look up instead.
She heard the sky-dog’s irritating drawl in her head.
She made herself listen. Inch by inch, she crawled along the branch.
She would not fall. She would make it into U’qaya’s house and find the map she was certain the woman had.
She would deliver it to Cero. He would be forced to admit his misgivings were baseless, and she would revel in her victory.
Jump, Two-legs, Abzi said. Now. The roof is below. The party is loud.
“I’ll break my ankles!”
Abzi twitched her ears. Jump like a cat.
The feline leapt gracefully to the roof below.
Karinna jumped after, forcing herself not to second-guess or think.
She didn’t land nearly as silently as Abzi, but the voices and mourning chants below were too loud for anyone to notice.
Her legs first screamed in pain and then went numb to the hip, but she staggered forward; after a few moments, the feeling came back.
She followed Abzi into the house through an open window, down a hallway, and up a set of stairs into a dimly lit room that smelled of paper and tea. At the desk, she felt the teacup. Still warm. Someone had been here not long before.
I’ll watch the hall, Abzi said.
Karinna didn’t like this place—there was only one door, and the window opened out to the tangled branches of yet another tree. She silently cracked the window so she could get out quickly. Then she set to work.
As she searched U’qaya’s desk, she thought of her father teaching her to pick locks in Serra one summer: Arrogant thieves often think they are too powerful to cross, so they leave things where they shouldn’t.
Paranoid thieves think everyone else is a thief, so they hide their loot as if it is about to be stolen.
Ask yourself, is your mark arrogant, paranoid, or something else?
U’qaya struck Karinna as a paranoid thief.
So, she avoided the books, scrolls, and loose parchment that littered the top of the desk and searched the drawers, feeling for hidden compartments.
She found nothing and moved to the dresser.
Other than a small sack of Ankanese talas—which Karinna left undisturbed—it, too, was empty of anything useful.
The overstuffed armchairs were next, then a bookshelf, behind multiple paintings, and along the walls. Nothing.
Karinna cursed. She could practically hear the sky-dog gloating. I told you it was a bad idea. At this point, she’d walked back and forth across the floor a few times and noticed a creak in one spot, covered by a rug.
There is a space beneath, Abzi said from the door. You could have just asked.
Cursing at her own stupidity, Karinna pried up the board.
Within, she found a soft black bag with a block of Loha inside.
Karinna whistled and pocketed it—Cero might need it for their Sail.
Beneath that was a stack of books that looked to be written in the Kegari script she’d seen in Jibaut.
But as Karinna flipped through them, she found no maps.
Hurry, Two-legs. Someone comes.
Karinna thrust her hand into the dark compartment, looking for anything else, but it was empty. This couldn’t possibly be all this woman was hiding. She knocked gently on the sides of the compartment. One of her knocks sounded hollow.
Not much time. Abzi paced back and forth. If Two-legs leaves now, not caught. Karinna didn’t hear voices, but Abzi’s hearing was more sensitive.
Karinna pawed at the side of the compartment, finally pulling it loose to find a leather tube. The lid was sealed on, and she’d need fire to break it off.
Run, Two-legs! Now!
Distract her, Abzi, please. Slow her down. Karinna tried not to panic. She didn’t know what U’qaya would do to her if she caught her in her study, but Karinna didn’t think being Laia’s daughter would protect her.
Panic just makes your chances of getting caught higher. Aba had taught her that long ago, but her blood still thundered in her ears.
Footsteps echoed up the stairwell. The field of battle is my temple. The swordpoint is my priest. The dance of death is my prayer. The killing blow is my release.