Chapter Twenty-Five #3
Selats loved bathhouses. Aoife had just passed her fifth one as she walked down Everglade’s Main Street.
She hadn’t seen much of the cities of the Kingdom of Shadows except for her whirlwind experience in the Emperor’s City.
She’d been hiding so long, it was strange to walk in the open around large swathes of people.
Granted, she was not fully “in the open.” She was hidden beneath her cloak and dyed hair, but still.
Where the Emperor’s City had felt old, ancient even, Everglade felt new.
Shiny. As Aoife walked down Main Street, she noted the massive buildings of stone had been sanded until they glistened.
There also seemed to be a competition among the women over who had the most lavish cloak.
Some women even had full, embroidered murals.
Aoife couldn’t help but stare as a luscious, starry night fluttered past her on a woman’s cloak.
Passing a bathhouse swimming in marble pillars and colourful glass, Aoife glanced at the stone-engraved sign promising “the latest breakthroughs in hair rejuvenation.” Each bathhouse seemed to boast a different medicinal specialisation.
According to Shadach, the Selats had a long history of combat, but also medicine.
Every bathhouse was trying to prove that theirs had the best medicine of all the medicines.
Aoife stumbled to a stop outside a particular bathhouse.
Was this it? The one she’d been looking for?
The outside shimmered in the sunlight with light-reflective stones, the whole building shining like a kaleidoscope.
The sign outside the door said “Inner Light Bathing.” Aoife checked the paper in her hand. The same words were written.
This was the one.
According to the Halcin of the Everglade enclave, this was the “it” bathhouse where people prestigious enough to know Lord Patin came to rejuvenate.
And to gossip. In the name of equality it was open to anyone …
for a handsome price. Aoife put her hand in her cloak pocket and felt for the coins Bremlin had given her.
What was she going to do once she was inside?
Aoife took a deep breath, opening the sleek wooden door and stepping inside.
She was going to investigate. She was going to find answers.
She was going to get a spa treatment.
Tension pulled at Aoife’s stomach as she entered the foyer.
A man played soothing music on a peculiar wind instrument that curved in all directions, but it did nothing to soothe Aoife.
She needed to go where people gossiped. Which, according to Hallus, was the relaxation room.
But the relaxation room was only available after a treatment.
Aoife supposed there were worse ways to do reconnaissance, but she didn’t actually have time to waste on pampering.
Shadach needed answers and a plan. And he needed them yesterday.
A receptionist with skin so perfect Aoife was not sure she had pores stood behind a desk made of something like granite.
On that desk was a large book detailing every treatment available and a subtle note about the exorbitant admission fee.
There were hundreds of treatments, each one breaking down the science behind how it cured this and that ailment and how best to combine treatments for optimum health.
The detail was staggering and as Aoife stood there, reading through an equation that explained how a particular treatment not only treated but cured dry skin, she wondered how much this obsession with ailments and cures had influenced the Selat reaction to the Shadow Sickness so long ago.
Wouldn’t it have driven them mad, seeing a sickness they could not fix?
Wouldn’t it have been easier to blame the Halcin than to admit failure?
A research question for another time, perhaps.
Aoife paid the admissions fee and selected a hand treatment.
That should have been quick enough. And it was.
After changing into a lush robe, Aoife was taken to a small room lit with candles and seated in a chair swathed in pillows.
The massage was thorough, with oils and creams that smelled like heaven.
Aoife tried to talk to the masseuse, perhaps she knew something useful, but she had no interest in conversation. She was there to work.
In the relaxation room after, Aoife took a deep breath, calming her nerves over how to approach these Selat strangers.
She wasn’t exactly trained in covertly extracting information, and despite Selats being the largest people-group in the Kingdom, they were the ones she knew the least about.
You plan to be the Empress and you don’t even know how to talk to Selats?
a voice mocked in Aoife’s head. It was a curious mixture of Hallus’ voice as well as Mum’s.
Aoife pushed the thought down and focused on the relaxation space.
It was a large room with bowls of fruit, a few tables with what looked like board games, more creams and oils, lounge chairs, and something similar to beanbag chairs.
The Selats in the room had formed conversation circles where people flitted from one to the other, every single Selat with a drink in their hand.
That probably meant Aoife should have a drink in her hand, too.
She went to the bar on the far side of the room, the bar itself made of glass.
On the bar was a parchment menu with drawings of all the drinks and detailed descriptions of how each one would revitalise Aoife’s health.
Apparently, alcohol was actually healthy and helped the body to enter a state of relaxation akin to a deep meditation with the God.
Aoife smiled to herself. Maybe the people of this world had a different biology than humans on Earth.
But Aoife was pretty sure Selats simply wanted their medicinal cake and to drink their alcohol, too.
Aoife ordered a pink cocktail that looked divine, with notes of rose syrup and something called pesia fruit.
It was cool and luscious. Indulgence in a glass.
But it was boxed wine compared to the cocktails Shadach could make.
Sipping on her drink, Aoife thought about that first night in the pub.
He truly was an artist with his cocktails.
The way he dreamed up the possibilities of what could be.
But then, on the other hand, the way he measured and poured and experimented with his creations …
he wasn’t terribly unlike a scientist. Aoife smiled to herself.
Maybe he wouldn’t be a total outcast at the O’Donoghue Christmas dinner, after all.
Aoife mentally pinched herself. She could take comfort in happy thoughts later.
Now, she needed to work. Moving about the room at a slow, casual pace, Aoife tried to eavesdrop, tried to join the conversations.
She wanted to talk to anybody, to everybody.
But as Aoife made her way about the room, she realised there was one rather serious problem she hadn’t anticipated.
Nobody wanted to talk to her.
~*~
Day 2 - Evening
Aoife snuck up the stairs of Hallus’ home, her body feeling weighed down with cement.
She could hear Hallus in the kitchen and he was the last person she wanted to speak to.
That trio of bloody stars outside was getting close to the centre of the sky, signalling it was only a few hours from midnight.
The third day was almost here and Aoife had failed again.
She took a deep breath before opening their bedroom door.
If Shadach was back already, she didn’t know what she was going to say to him.
Maybe he’d had better luck. She nodded to herself, trying to give herself confidence as she opened the door.
Shadach had gone that morning to keep looking for Weis.
He hadn’t had much luck locating him yesterday.
That afternoon, Aoife and Shadach had checked in with each other at a local pub when the star trio had been a quarter of the way through the sky.
Shadach had had some solid leads for Weis’s whereabouts, even though he hadn’t found him yet.
Maybe he’d had some luck by now.
Aoife stepped into the room. No one was there.
She sighed, relieved and disappointed. She tossed the small bag in her hand on the bed.
Inside was an assortment of medicinal skincare samples she’d gotten for free from Lady Carris.
From her, Aoife had learned everything she ever needed to know about everyone she didn’t know.
The only thing she’d learned about Lord Patin was that he used Dayga cream on his face instead of Dasga cream which most men of his age used.
The plan had been to talk to someone influential at the different bathhouses she’d visited that day, but those people hadn’t wanted to talk to her.
Not to mention the bathhouse entrance fees were getting prohibitive and Bremlin only wanted so much of her hair.
Sitting on the bed, the heaviness in Aoife made her feel her body was sinking down, down, down through the mattress and into the floor.
The door handle jostled and Aoife leapt to her feet as Shadach walked in the door.
Good news, good news, good news, she chanted to herself as if she could wish it into existence.
But one look at Shadach’s face told her she had failed at that, too.
“Sorry I’m so late,” he said. The exhaustion in his eyes softened when he saw her, but the worry had etched deep lines into his face. He kissed her lightly as he made his way to the bed, sitting down with a heavy sigh.
“Did you find Weis?” Aoife sat beside him, putting her hands on his shoulders, trying to ease the tension out of him.
He looked at her and smiled sadly. “It took a while, but I did.”
“That’s … good. Isn’t it?” Aoife worked at a knot in his shoulder.
Shadach nodded, eyes half-closed, looking like he was about to pass out. He had tossed and turned all night. “I’ll take an hour’s rest then get back out there.”
“You need more than an hour of sleep.” Aoife pulled close to him and he leaned into her.
“I don’t have time for more than an hour, we’ve only got one more day.
” He sounded sad, defeated. Aoife would have preferred if he’d been angry.
The reminder of how little time they had left pulled at her gut like someone pulling at a guitar string.
Aoife thought about telling him to run. This all be damned, they could just run.
But she knew Shadach couldn’t. The lives of his people were on the line. He couldn’t abandon them. It was one of the many things she adored about him. So, instead, Aoife held his hand and rested her head on his shoulder.
“What can I do?” she said.
“You can get some rest so one of us is functioning tomorrow.” He kissed the top of her head. “No luck at the bathhouse?”
Aoife shook her head against his shoulder. “Nobody important enough would speak to me. Turns out Selats may hate lesser Selats as much as they hate the Halcin.”
Shadach laughed, and for a moment there was genuine amusement in it. Aoife shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to take away his moment of joy.
“Tell me,” Shadach said. He was looking at her with a soft smile. “You look worried.”
She laughed, her nerves exhaling with her air. “It’s just something Hallus said.”
“Hallus never says anything good,” Shadach sighed.
“No, but … I’m not sure he was wrong.” Aoife picked at a hangnail on her thumb, avoiding Shadach’s eyes. “He said … I’d make a terrible Empress. And it got me thinking … we never talked about …”
Shadach put a gentle hand beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his. “When all of this is said and done, I want you by my side. My Empress. My lover. My everything.”
A tightness in Aoife loosened, her body melting at the love in his eyes.
“And Hallus is wrong.” He moved his hand to hers. “You will make a wonderful Empress.”
“I don’t know anything about this world. I can’t even get a Selat to talk to me. How am I supposed to help lead it?”
“That’s why you’ll be good at it.” Shadach squeezed her hand. “No assumptions, no preconceived notions. You will see us and what we need more clearly than anyone.”
Aoife wasn’t sure that was true, but she certainly hoped it was. They sat there, in the quiet, in the comfort, until the weight of time, or their lack of it, became too suffocating to ignore.
“Weis really told you nothing useful?” Aoife said.
“Not a thing.” Shadach brushed his hand through his hair, his hand leaving hers.
“Why not?” Aoife said. “Is he honestly refusing to help?”
“He couldn’t tell me anything.” Shadach’s whisper of a laugh was only slightly bitter. “He’s dead.”