23. 22
The two representatives of the House of the Sea were both men.
One, I discovered, was the Leader. I had seen him before, commencing the Festival of Pleiidus, a three day festival where most coastal towns were encouraged to spend their time swimming in the salty water and worshipping the greatness of the sea.
Those towns with a lesser chance of flood risk weren’t so inclined to take the time off, and growing up, I think the only Festival of Pleiidus I remembered was when I was eight, and the townsfolk tried to dig out a pool and created a frog-infested stagnant pond instead.
Coming here, seeing the true Festival of Pleiidus, was one of my favourite early memories of Dytho. I loved to swim when I found the time, and I wondered why I hadn’t done more of it in my last few weeks of freedom. Then, I thought of Jusia, floating in the canal.
No. I wouldn’t be celebrating water for some time.
But the man here didn’t look how I remembered him from the festivals. Then, he was painted and peacocked and fashioned into the style of the ancient merfolk. I had never seen his face when it wasn’t painted blue, and I hadn’t seen him without his huge trident.
Horan was his name. Here, he just looked like a middle-aged man with far too little skin on his bones, drinking tea.
He looked tired. His companion, ten years his junior, looked equally tired.
If I recalled correctly from various rumours, the two had been lovers for years, and they were the two only male members of their household.
Horan murmured something to him, and I didn’t pick up on it, so at least I knew we weren’t so close that I should conceal my breaths. Then the younger man stared directly at me. I sucked in a breath and then held my hand over my mouth.
I realised, of course, he was looking at the mirror, and not at us, but it was still terrifying. I leaned over to Davian, my mouth next to his ear as I spoke in barely a whisper. “You’re certain they cannot see through?”
Davian touched his hand to my leg, and I shivered. He turned his head a fraction, and my lips nearly brushed his cheek. “Yes.”
His shoulders were up to his ears, his eyes flat. I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. “Couldn't you have sent Camriel to do this, instead?” I whispered. “So you didn’t have to return?”
The fingers on my thigh tensed. “I’d rather not tell them what we’re doing.”
“Why?” I replied, the minty smell of his hair oil filling my nose. “You suspect them?”
“No.” I had disappointed him, I could tell. “They loved Seera, too. I can see how much they dislike it when I mention her. I have to let them move on. Burdening them with this, when it could come to nothing…”
I frowned, and nodded. “I understand.”
I retreated from him, sitting back in the chair. His hand stayed where it was. Pinning me. Anchoring him.
Through the mirror, Horan asked what she wanted to know. Theolis clasped her hands into her lap, ignoring the tea she had poured before her. She said one name. “Saskia.”
The younger stiffened. Horan let out a sigh, but there was no surprise on his face. He only rubbed a hand over his chin, and invited her to ask her questions.
“When did she go missing?” Theolis asked, diving straight in with no inflection.
Horan matched her detached air. “The twenty-fourth of Kaura, a week before Fenren’s festival.”
“Did anyone see her leave?”
“She was in bed for our curfew,” Horan said, reaching a steady hand down for his tea. He took a sip, and didn’t rush. Theolis waited as a statue might. “The other devotee in her room confirmed she was there. She was gone by the morning bell.”
Theolis nodded. “Is that strange?”
“No,” Horan said without hesitation. “Our devotees know a number of ways in and out of the House which are not under constant guard.” He stared at Theolis. “They are not prisoners.”
She nodded once, unphased. “Was anyone else seen in the water that night? Any boats?”
“No.”
Theolis reached out to pour more tea into Horan’s waiting cup. “What is your best guess for what happened to Saskia?”
The Sea Leader looked at the other man, and gave him a nod.
The younger cleared his throat. “She left a note.”
“A note?” Theolis nudged.
“A note saying she was running away, and not to come after her. But it was not written in her hand, nor with the ink present in the room. The paper wasn’t even paper we stock.
” I could feel his irritation pouring out, and how he tried to stem it.
He took a deep breath, and shook his head.
“This wasn’t some accident. Someone must have seen her, and taken her.
They left the note to try to cover up her kidnap, and likely, her murder. ”
Theolis didn’t move. “Who?”
The younger continued. “We saw no one we didn’t expect. We only share the Spit with one other House. Either someone from the Moon took her, or one of their guests.”
Horan lifted a hand. “Take care, Tomas. The lady asked for facts, not speculation.”
Tomas reddened, but nodded, and lowered his head in deference.
Theolis unclasped and reclapsed her hands. “Could it have been someone from your own House?”
Tomas stared at her, and I could see him holding back anger. Horan only shook his head. “It is unlikely. They would have known her hand better, used the right ink, or at least our paper.”
“Unless they were trying to push the blame,” Theolis said.
Tomas clenched his hands together, as Horan only took another sip of tea.
The Leader responded with a firm rebuttal, spoken in a calm voice. “It was not a member of our own House. Saskia was well liked.”
As far as I could tell, it tasted of the truth. In so much as the Leader believed it was true, which was as far as my ability could take me.
Theolis let this sit, waiting in the silence of the steaming tea cups. She wafted her hands in the direction of a plate of sugar biscuits that sat alluringly behind the tea set, and Horan took one, giving Tomas a look.
After they had both eaten one, and taken another sip of tea, Theolis continued. “Were either of you at the Moon’s symposium that night?"
Horan nodded. “I was.”
Theolis pointed Horan towards a small writing desk in the corner of the room. “I would request a list of every attendee you remember.”
Horan remained seated. “That won’t be necessary.”
Theolis raised an eyebrow. “This is the price.”
Horan offered a hand, in peace. “It won’t be necessary because it is easy to remember. It was a small symposium. The Leaders of each House and their partners, that was it. Only War and Agriculture did not attend, both being away from Dytho. And you, of course. You did not attend.”
“I was otherwise engaged that night,” Theolis replied.
Horan nodded, and another pause fell.
Interesting, and troubling. Davian was silent beside me, but it didn’t reassure me.
If the House of the Sea spoke plain, which I intuited they did, then it seemed there were not many who could have been involved in Saskia’s disappearance.
The idea that a Leader of one of the great Houses could have something to do with it was even worse than Horan would have thought.
If this wasn’t a one-off incident, and there was someone killing a number of devotees, that alone was scary.
But if the person doing these heinous crimes wasn’t some crazy lunatic like Juven, but a Leader of a House, what did that mean?
How much harder would it be to pin them down? To convince anyone of their guilt?
“Do you know anything about the current whereabouts of the God of Fire?”
If Horas was unsettled by the subject change, he hid it well. “The cast-down god?”
“The same.”
“Nothing more than myths and decades-old rumours.”
“What was the last rumour you heard?” she asked.
Horas shrugged. “When I was a young man, people said he had taken the form of a crone and was sleeping in the forests of Meldora, and that’s why they had so many fires. I haven’t heard his name in a decade.” He looked at Tomas, who shook his head.
A dead end, then, with Ragnifort. I frowned, worrying a hang nail on my thumb. If Wisdom didn’t know, then I had no idea how to move forwards. But Davian had pledged to help me, once we solved his issue. There had to be some recent rumour, somewhere.
Theolis turned the questions to other matters, asking about the Sea’s recent financial problems, and their renovations of the glass chambers under their floors.
Horan was again expecting this line of questioning.
Five minutes later, she was reaching for the two gold, and handing it across to the House Leader.
They shook hands, and Tomas offered Theolis a shallow bow. Then, we could no longer see them. Davian held my thigh for a few seconds as first one door then another opened and closed again. Then, he released me and stood, pushing the mirror out and stepping back into the room.
I followed, still processing all of that information.
Theolis stood waiting for us, her face blank and her hair still entirely perfect.
“If it is true, and there were no boats or other people present on the Spit, then there are only three explanations. The first is that she truly did leave of her own accord, leaving the note as some way of throwing off the scent. Some guards from the Spit might have helped her. The second, someone from the House of the Moon was involved. Third, a House Leader, present at that symposium, was involved.”
Davian hummed. Not confirming anything, not elaborating. “Have you seen anything from the Leaders?”
Theolis glanced at me, and then looked back at her son. She tossed her head, and pressed her lips together in a thin line. “You hold the purse strings, do you not?”
Davian reached back into his pocket, and pulled out another gold coin. “Have you seen anything?”
This time, Theolis didn’t look at me. “She should not hear this.”
Davian stood in front of me, not rising to the comment. “She will not be leaving.”
“You risk our secret with this stranger.” Her voice was higher than it had been. The only indication of her disgust.