Chapter Thirteen After #3
And he wore indigo-blue robes, the edge hemmed in shimmering gold thread. The pattern matched the carvings on the song tower, three lines braiding together into a circle. Cat knew that symbol. She knew that symbol far too well.
Not embroidered on fabric but inked on bare skin.
Sky, sun, and sea.
The Song.
“May the sea always sing for you,” he said, exerting just enough pressure to help Cat right herself.
His voice was deep, dipped in honey, and no wonder. Arcayan priests were said to sing more beautifully than birds.
Cat blinked back at him. “May the sea always sing for you, Lord Priest.”
Ahead of her, she saw Fell’s head over the crowd, halting to look for her. His face reddened, his eyes wide with fear in the moment before spotting her.
“Keep up, Cat!” he called over the market, waving for her to follow.
But the Arcayan priest held in place, letting the flow of people break around them like waves around a stone.
He did not release his hand, still looking down at Cat.
She stared back, unblinking, forced to crane her neck to hold his gaze.
He was exceptionally tall and, despite his age, had the build of a soldier.
“It is a rare Meridian lady who knows of my people, or our ways,” he murmured.
Some yards away, Fell glared at her, trying to fight his way back.
“Well, I do,” Cat replied.
The priest loosened his grasp, bowing his head a little. His melodic voice dropped.
“Then you know there are no lords in Crownless Arcayo. I am but one of many.”
“I’d say you are one of very few,” Cat replied, her hand darting out to grab his wrist in turn. “How many Arcayan priests man song towers beyond your islands?”
His smile was amused and dark.
“More will soon, my lady.”
The crowd pushed in, the tide of people jostling their shoulders.
The noise and closeness of so many would have rankled Cat, if not for the shield it offered from Fell.
The captain was waylaid, still trying to fight his way backwards, disgruntled and grumbling, caught up in a knot of Esperese sailors. But not for long.
Cat spoke quickly, both eager and bewildered.
“Why? Have you allied with Esperin? Is this—”
Her voice caught as she racked her brain.
Once she read so many books about Arcayo and the rest of the Lyrian Sea, committing facts to memory as if they might be any use.
Few were, in the reality of things. Lists and historical dates mattered little over the years, and information from Meridian scholars even less.
Their knowledge of the Lyrian was limited at best.
She cursed herself, staring into the priest’s eyes, trying to remember. She had never believed in priests and songs, in the ways of the Arcayans.
Valerian did, she knew, thinking of the tattoo on his chest. The braiding lines of ink and faith, hot beneath her fingers, traced so many times she could draw them from memory.
Cat never thought much of them, too practical to dwell on the many silent gods of the world.
But even she could not deny the look on his face when he stepped into the shadow of a song tower or temple. Reverent, peaceful. A storm quelled.
Valerian always knew more than I ever could.
She dropped her hand, releasing her grasp on the priest’s wrist. Her mind raced, a jumble of too many things that just would not align.
“Cat!”
Fell’s frustrated shout rose above the din as he finally cut through the crowd, his furious men in tow. A few of them elbowed back and forth with passing merchants, trading curses as they blocked the street.
“I do not want to shackle you to my side, but I will if you make me,” Fell warned, offering his arm with a stern air. He spared only a passing glance to the Arcayan, uninterested and unknowing of his position.
Cat ignored the captain’s arm, nodding goodbye to the priest.
“May the sea always sing for you,” he said once more before melting into the market crowd. His indigo robes disappeared in seconds, swallowed up by the tide.
Fell stared after him, a black eyebrow arched imperiously. “A friend of yours?”
“No,” Cat replied.
“Let’s get on with it.” He looped his arm into hers, holding firm despite her protestations.
With Whisten leading the way, they carved a line through the market crowd, escaping the tumult onto a neighboring street.
Buildings leaned together, red shingles and pink stone giving the city a rosy haze.
It was not so crowded here, but still bustling with foot traffic and horse-drawn carts.
Storefronts and warehouses lined the way, with apartments cramped on the higher floors.
Washerwomen strung laundry across the alleys while a few children played dice on a stoop.
Lively music spilled out from one tavern on the far corner, two brawling men from another.
Fell looked back and forth, his gaze lingering on the fort to the west, situated above the city.
“I don’t suppose you know the way to the naval offices, do you?” Fell muttered.
With a scowl, Cat unraveled her arm from his.
“No,” she answered, lying.
The crowd and the noise made it too easy. Fell’s trust, spare as it was, even easier.
Cat was gone before he noticed, slipping off, disappearing into Alvaris with little more than a gleam of amber eyes and trailing skirts.
She was two streets away when she heard him calling, his voice a roar above the din. But it did not follow, the sound of him and the city fading with every step south, up the ridge of the volcano. Into the jungle and a church she could no longer see. But she remembered the way.
Towards the church tower, and the woman she was sure to find at the top of it.