39. Chapter 39
Chapter thirty-nine
While Civi Adasa was charming, elegant, magnificent, and beautiful, Civi Obsura was dirty, smelly, crowded, and depressing.
Honestly it felt like home.
“This is like the Rivellan version of Jersey,” I said with a laugh as we meandered down the road.
The streets were packed with unguisen pulling wagons loaded with food and other goods, while vendors hawked their wares at anybody who passed by. The city's buildings looked like they might crumble to pieces with a strong wind, and puddles of muddy water filled the numerous potholes strewn about the road. The stones that made up the sidewalks had more cracked pieces than solid ones.
All that aside, though, it was the people that made the biggest difference between this city and the one up the hill. There was very little joy on the faces of Civi Obsura’s people. Their eyes were downcast and their shoulders rounded forward. Children tucked tight into their parents' sides were more often crying then laughing, and more than one fight broke out during the first five minutes we were there.
And the smell. It wasn’t quite as bad as the sewage dump, but it was definitely not the vanilla and rose petals I had scented in Civi Adasa.
The longer we walked, the more I realized maybe Jersey wasn’t so bad.
When we passed by the food vendors, Sin bought me a hunk of the roasted lanfa he swore would change my life.
He wasn’t far off. The tender meat nearly melted in my mouth and the salty, spicy flavor had me drooling.
“What do they season this with, cocaine?” I asked as a moan escaped me.
Sin laughed and led me down a side street while I devoured the succulent meat. We moved away from the center of the city into a more residential area, and I noticed at least in this part of town things weren’t quite so depressing. Children actually played in the streets while mothers chatted nearby in the shade.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a symbol on a crumbling brick wall.
“That’s the sign of the Lissentia,” Sin said in a quiet, maybe even respectful, tone. “I suppose you would call them anarchists. They are, or were, a group of Rivellan imminarios that opposed the royal family being situated over the Source while the people here on the outskirts struggled with scraps of magic.”
“That’s considered anarchy?” I asked, licking the remnants of the lanfa off my fingers. “It seems like the people here far outnumber those in the castle. Why don’t they overthrow the royal family?”
“There were attempts,” Sin said as he directed me to continue walking. “Though the attacks really only began in earnest after the plague tore through each court’s outer cities. The imminarios always suffered the most. The Silver Court had the first uprising, maybe thirty years ago. They just wanted their king to open his castle grounds to the masses for a few hours each day. They believed that more of the imminarios would be able to develop as secunnarios or even amplissarios if they were nearer to the Source.” Sin stopped walking. “The king had their heads removed, Rain.”
“Wait,” I said, once I was able to move past the Silver King's brutality. “Are you saying that proximity to the Source can affect how many abilities a person can get?”
Sin let out a sigh that carried the weight of someone witnessing injustice, yet helpless to prevent it. “Yes, Rain. If a Vitaean does not have access to the Source, then how would they be able to manifest their magic? Those forced to live on the outer edges so far from the well of power will never know how much magic they might have been able to wield. A lion will never know how fast he can run if he is never released from his cage.”
I placed a hand along a wall to steady myself. “So those that are born out here will never have a way to improve their situation? It’s a never ending cycle of suppression.”
“For the most part,” he agreed. “Occasionally a powerful secunnario will emerge, but it is very rare.”
“Like you,” I said, and Sin nodded.
“If I wasn’t accepted into Verren’s guard and spent so much time around the Source, then I never would have developed my third power.”
My fingers twined through his, and we continued walking, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the people around me. All throughout my life we had been taught about injustice, and yet no amount of schooling prepared me for seeing it in person. I inspected the city around me, the slums, and really saw it for the first time.
A young girl spilled the glass of water she was carrying, and her mom struggled to catch the stream of liquid before it hit the ground. A father struggled to heal his son’s scraped knee, barely able to get it scab over. A street vendor struggled to keep the fire going under the meat he was cooking.
Struggle, struggle, struggle. It was all I saw. Every one of them struggled to do things that would be so simple if they only lived a few miles closer to the castle.
I spent my whole life below the poverty line, barely able to make ends meet, but I always believed that if I worked hard enough, trained with my violin long enough, maybe things could change.
These people couldn’t even have the dream. Only the cold, hard reality that their lives would never be more than what they were now.
“How do they live like this?” I asked Sin, my voice laced with despair.
“They don’t, Fea Remia. They only survive. It’s all they can do. The people here will only ever go as far as the ramentum on their arms allows, and for most, this is the end of the line.” He gestured to the ramshackle homes falling apart around us.
“Nobody should ever be okay with this,” I declared as we crossed down another alleyway. My mind was running rampant with thoughts I was afraid to voice, but the more I saw of the city around me, the more I had to know. Gripping Sin’s hand tight, I forced the question out. “Do you think restoring the lines will change things for them? If it returns their full access to magic?”
Sin flinched slightly, and I nearly missed it. I recalled how hard he tried to convince me to abandon the prophecy. To leave the ley lines as they were because he said the risk wasn’t worth it.
“Maybe,” he admitted. “Maybe it will change everything. And maybe it will change nothing. People in power tend to want to stay in power.”
I bit my lip. “Do you think if I agreed to stay here as princess—and I’m not saying I am—but if I was… do you think I would be able to change anything?”
His hold on my hand tightened as he lifted it to press a kiss to my knuckles. “I don’t know. I won’t hide the fact that I want you to stay. When you first arrived I could think of nothing beyond getting you to leave. To go back to your world where you would be safe. I would have spent my very long existence alone, comforted by the knowledge that this place could never harm you. But now that I’ve touched you…” He paused for a beat. “…tasted you. I can’t fathom the thought of letting you go. It doesn’t matter who you are—a princess, a queen, a human from Jersey—I will never be worthy of you. There is so much in my past that I can never atone for, but I would do everything in my power to earn your trust, and your love, if you stay here.” He swallowed. “If you stay with me.”
There it was. The topic we had been tiptoeing around since yesterday, neither of us willing to bring it up for fear of what might be said.
I leaned forward and sank into the warmth of his lips. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tight against him, deepening the kiss. We devoured each other, forgetting for a moment that we probably shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves. I couldn’t help it. I let his dark ocean scent wash over me for as long as possible.
We couldn’t avoid the conversation forever, though. Resting my cheek against his shoulder, I whispered, “You could come back to Jersey with me.”
Sin’s hands at my low back gripped me tighter, as if he was afraid to let me go. “I can’t, Rain, I’m a Vitaean. We need access to the Source. It killed me a little every time I visited your world. I felt like I was missing an intrinsic part of me, like a piece of my soul was just gone. I can’t live like that.”
I wondered if I would feel like that when I went home. Would I miss my magic? Would I miss it enough to abandon Jenn forever? I couldn’t imagine anything feeling bad enough to do that.
“So you have to stay, and I have to go.”
Sin shut his eyes tightly. “That’s what it sounds like.”
I ran a hand over the deep furrow in his brow. “So what does that mean for you and me?”
He opened his eyes, and my knees practically buckled at the heartache I saw in them. “It means that either way l lose part of my soul.”
A tear slid down my cheek. Then another. I wiped them away, cursing my inability to hold them back when I was usually so good at that. “Why is my stupid heart making me feel like this?”
“Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.”
His words were knives that stabbed my soul, and the tears only poured out faster at how casually he quoted my favorite line from The Wizard of Oz. The motto I based my entire life on because it never failed me. And the first time I decided to ignore it and let someone into my heart, was the first time I was reminded why it was such a bad idea. Because my heart was breaking right now.
“Don’t cry, Fea Remia,” Sin said, lifting my face with a single finger and brushing away my tears. “There’s still the possibility that we both die in the dark forest before you even have the chance to leave me.”
I barked out a sharp laugh and jabbed him in the chest. “Oh my God, Sin, did you really just say that?”
He smirked. “I got you to stop crying though, didn't I?”
I sniffed, but there were no more salty droplets streaming down my cheeks. He always knew how to save me from myself.
Refusing to fall back into the despair of losing him, I decided it was time for me to do what I did best. Avoidance and dismissal.
“So I don’t see any shops around which I guess means you’re taking me to my mom’s place?”
“It’s right around the corner,” he said, but when I turned in that direction he put a hand on my shoulder. His face darkened, any semblance of the earlier levity gone. “All joking aside, I know you’re planning to fulfill the prophecy before you leave, and I need you to know, Rain, that I will not let you restore the ley lines if it means you might be harmed in the process. I would let them suffer, all of them, if it keeps you alive. I won’t apologize for that.”
I gulped, hearing the truth in his voice.
And it made me wonder what he knew that I didn’t.
The house where my mom grew up shocked me more than I thought possible given everything else I’d seen. Mostly because it wasn’t really a house. It was a brothel.
Half naked ladies lounged on a sagging front porch while a few others escorted random men in or out of the sad, two-story home. The ladies reminded me of harem girls from the Arabian nights with their swishy, transparent outfits.
I turned to Sin. “My mother was a sex worker?”
He laughed and tugged me toward the cluster of ladies. “No, Rain. Your mother just lived here. She was taken in by the Madame who runs this place and kept hidden. Come on. If Yanda is around, she can tell you more about your mother than I can.”
I let Sin drag me past the scantily clad females, and I regretted that I could now understand the sordid propositions they shouted at him. I almost smacked one who offered to show Sin what a real female could do.
It was only thanks to his strong arm materializing around my waist that we made it inside without any violence.
A bored-looking female lay on a sofa in the front room but perked up as Sin approached. My fists clenched at the seductive smile she gave him.
The female pouted a bit when all he did was ask if Yanda was around, then she left to go find her.
Sin took a spot on the sofa while I wandered around the parlor, observing their interesting taste in art. A particularly lewd painting of a female servicing two males drew my attention, and I barely heard the soft steps descending the stairs. I turned just as an elegant middle-aged woman with a hint of gray in her short, sandy brown hair reached the bottom step and threw her arms around Sin.
“Dreisin!” she cried out happily, crushing him against her ample bosom. “It has been decades. I thought you had forgotten all about me.”
I blinked at the two of them embracing. “Dreisin?” I asked, whirling on Sin and switching to English. “Care to explain how you know this lady so well?” I honestly had no issues with sex workers, but I didn’t love hearing that Sin had apparently been a frequent flyer at the local brothel.
The Madame released Sin and faced me, the long skirts of her classy scarlet dress swishing with the motion. Her thin hazel eyes scanned my body, and she smiled.
“And who is this beautiful creature who does not speak our language? Have you brought me a present, Dreisin?”
Sin laughed, though I didn’t find her comment that amusing. Before he could speak, I stepped up to her and said in Rivellan, “I’m Rain, and I speak your language fine. Mostly. And I’m not a prostitute.” I had to admit the Rivellan word for a sex worker was much prettier than the English options. Melatrice just felt a bit more elegant.
Sin gestured to each of us and said, “Rain, meet Yanda. Yanda, Rain. Please don’t kill each other. Yanda was a good friend of my mother’s before she died, so she visited our house often. My mother never let me come here despite begging her when I was young.”
Yanda casually slung an arm around Sin’s neck. “Your mother always said I was a bad influence on you.”
Sin gave her a dubious grin. “That’s because you kept trying to hire me once I was old enough, saying the females of Civi Obsura deserved just as much attention as the males.”
“A statement that is as true today as it was sixty years ago.”
They both laughed, and once again I failed to see the humor. “Uh, Sin,” I said, waving my hand in front of my face. “I don’t actually have all day.”
“Yes, sorry. Yanda, I was hoping you would be willing to talk to Rain about Leeara. You remember her, don’t you?”
At the mention of my mother’s name, Yanda’s smile faded, and she turned to analyze me. She ran a finger over the spot where my silver hair was just starting to grow out at the roots. “Raynella,” she whispered, more to herself than me.
“I go by Rain now,” I said pointedly before anyone else could take up the Raynella crap.
“I see,” she replied quietly. “Come with me, Rain.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about this Madame, but I wanted to learn about my mother so I followed her up the stairs and down a hall to a tiny room with peeling white paint at the back of the house. It was empty, save for a small bed set beneath a single window, an old brown sofa torn in three spots, and a scratched up dresser with crooked drawers.
Sin plopped onto the sofa while Yanda sat on the bed. I opted for leaning against the broken dresser, determining it was likely to be the least disgusting piece of furniture in here.
Yanda observed me, her shrewd eyes taking in my discomfort. “This room isn’t used for entertaining, Raynella. You can sit if you’d like,” she said.
“Rain,” I corrected her, “and I’m good here.”
“Whatever you prefer. This was actually your mother’s room, you know. I haven’t taken in another stray since her, so little has changed.”
I glanced around at the empty room. “That’s not saying much.”
“No, I suppose not. Your mother had few possessions, and she took most with her to the castle when she left.”
I eyed the musty-looking pink quilt on the bed. “Can’t say I’m surprised that she wanted to go.”
Ignoring the thinly-veiled barb, Yanda scooted back on the bed, crossed her legs, and leaned against the wall. “I loved your mother very much, Rain. I never had children of my own, and she was only three when she arrived at my doorstep. The World Walker who dropped her off said her parents had been murdered, and while she owed them a debt, she could not care for a child. She made me vow to raise Leeara in secret and allow no one to find her. Even as a toddler your mother was so beautiful, so captivating with her shining silver hair. I knew there was something special about her. So despite my better judgment I agreed, and it turned out to be the best decision I ever made.”
I remained quiet as she continued her story, trying to fight off the wave of emotion from learning that my mother had also grown up an orphan.
“For over twenty-five years I kept her hidden, until one day a few of the king's guards came here looking for a good time. They caught the barest glimpse of her in the hall, said something about silver hair and left. When the king arrived hours later, I feared he was there to kill her personally. Instead, he begged her to come with him to the castle, to live there. I had no idea what he could possibly want with a human, and I tried to tell her that he couldn’t be trusted. He was attractive though, and she saw a life outside of a tiny bedroom in Civi Obsura, so she took it.
“A year passed with no word until she just showed up one night with you in her arms, begging for help. She was so scared that I gave her what she wanted without a second thought, and I never saw her again.”
“What did she say when you saw her?” I demanded, stepping away from the dresser. “Do you know why she left the castle?”
“She said only that you were in danger, and she needed the World Walker's help. So I told her what I knew of the Walker’s location. I’m so sorry, Rain, but I don’t know what happened after that.”
“What happened?” I shouted, my voice vibrating with anger. “The Walker killed her and dumped me in a different realm. That’s what happened. You sent her to her death.” I could feel the fire start to prickle under my skin.
Sin must have sensed it was getting close because he jumped to his feet and tried to take my face in his hands. I yanked away and stalked closer to the bed. Closer to the person who got my mother killed.
Yanda didn’t look the slightest bit cowed. Her back stiffened and an air of defiance surrounded her.
“That’s a lie,” she bit out. “Caira would never harm Leeara. In fact, she would come by often to visit with the child when she was young to ensure that she was safe and healthy. Caira even told me where her home was in case Leeara ever needed help or was in danger. She loved your mother as much as a Walker is capable of love, so no, Rain, Caira did not kill her. Who told you such a thing?”
The fire that had nearly erupted from me dissolved into barely smoldering embers. “My father told me,” I said, realizing how stupid I'd been. “He told me the Walker killed my mother just as he arrived to save her.”
“Well, Rain,” Yanda said, climbing off the bed and stepping closer to me. “Your father is a liar.”