Chapter Twenty-Five
Tea
???
Blythtrie Bay, Capital of Loros.
Kyra.
The sheer crystalline brightness of Blythtie’s coastal waters did not seem real to Kyra.
The Thilene glided through turquoise silk surrounding Loros’ capital, and her eyes were glued to the depths below, an aquatic world of magnificence where fish of every kind darted as one in their varying shoals.
She’d even spotted a mushroom-like creature made of jelly with long arms of string, just bobbing along and minding its own business.
Oh, to be that fish of jelly. To just exist with no worries. No responsibilities.
The coast of Avaldale was like a mud pool in comparison to these waters and there was a very dominating part of her that wanted to jump off the ship and feel that saltiness hold her.
Damar might burst a blood vessel if she did. She swallowed down the impulse.
They weren’t heading for Blythrie’s main harbour. Damar had made his conditions for this voyage very clear: he would pull the ship in off the west coast of the city into a hidden cave, save the Lorish authorities spotting the deviants and raising an alarm.
Even from this distance however, the great city sitting on the shore was clearly visible.
But it was not a pretty sight.
The fine, white sand beach had been ruined, in Kyra’s opinion, by the monstrosity that stood off the back of it.
A metal giant slumbered on the sand, dull and grey and completely annihilating the natural beauty around it.
A faint clanging sound carried across the water’s surface all the way from the shore from cogs that consistently moved, a clashing harmony against the rush of white horses on the water’s surface, or the cawing of seabirds that glided above them.
Avaldale was far from a perfect city… but at least her former home didn’t look like a glorified prison.
‘What an eyesore,’ Kyra murmured aloud.
Naal, who was standing beside her, nodded solemnly.
‘In my lifetime I have seen this island change quite drastically. I resent what the King of Blythtrie has made of this land. The Lorish have always been an innovative people… the city itself is powered by great mills that use the power of the tides to its advantage. I will admit, it is an extremely efficient method but-’
‘It looks like shit,’ Kyra finished for her.
Naal’s mouth twitched. ‘Your language is colourful as ever. That was not the word I would have used, but I suppose it works just as well.’
‘What did it look like before?’
‘Much like the other islets of Loros,’ Naal said. ‘Thick rainforests, small coastal villages, palm trees so tall the inhabitants have some relief from the unforgiving midday sun. You will see. Blythrie will not be our only port of call whilst we are in Corla’s domain.’
Kyra remembered something Kawai had said. ‘Do you know the king? Personally?’
Naal’s reply was crisp. ‘Unfortunately.’
‘Kawai mentioned him before… something about him favouring the capital over the other islets of Loros.’
‘Yes,’ Naal said. ‘Not a pleasant male, nor one I am particularly proud of knowing.’ She sighed. ‘Though I will have to face him before our trip here is concluded. A meeting I am not looking forward to.’
There was something in the way she said it, like there was a sour history there. But for once, Kyra didn’t pry.
???
The quick, breezy pace of Blythtrie reminded Kyra of Avaldale.
Metropolitan citizens darted from one destination to the next.
They were a rich people, all dressed to impress it seemed, in light dresses, skirts and floaty garments of silk and gossamer to accommodate the heat in this tropical climate.
Sweat already dripped relentlessly down Kyra’s back, and she envied them their breathable clothes.
Though she didn’t envy the thick cosmetics that coated their faces; a popular trend by the looks of most of them, and somehow not melting off in the humidity.
It hadn’t felt this hot when she and Naal had disembarked the Thilene.
Perhaps the fumes billowing from the city’s strange mechanisms made it so.
The logistics of the city’s power was not even the strangest thing about Blythtrie.
It was the fact that nearly everyone, in every corner of every street she looked, was fae.
Humans were the minority. They were there, but Kyra’s gaze skimmed over them, for they were dressed far less extravagantly, with their heads down as though desperate to remain as inconspicuous against their fae counterparts as possible.
They were the ones who appeared to keep the city running.
The ones who worked tirelessly to provide for their families, all whilst ensuring the fae kept their rich comforts.
Kyra expected to feel some sort of gratification to see humans treated like this.
But all she felt was pity. She knew what it was like to be them.
Whilst Naal’s wings were still invisible, it didn’t stop the Lorish from staring at her with great interest. Her snowy skin stood out unmistakably against the sun-kissed, brown faces around them.
Where her hair was cropped and silver, those around them were varying shades of rich browns.
Kyra was overlooked comparatively; she matched their bronzed complexions.
She could only imagine their reaction if Naal were to reveal her wings.
Their brash curiosity didn’t seem to bother Naal at all. She strode through the streets with her head held high as it so often was, and Kyra practically trotted at her side to keep up.
Finally turning a corner, they steered away from the main street and clusters of fae.
Down a significantly less grand avenue, the smells of fishy food vendors and strong perfumes faded away, replaced instead by a damp, piss-like odour that made Kyra’s nose wrinkle.
The stench was not dissimilar to Avaldale’s slums.
At the front door of a slightly wonky home of steel at the end of a line of townhouses, Naal came to a stop. The street itself was long and very narrow, and Kyra couldn’t tell if she found the warped houses charming or a little sad and neglected.
After rapping her knuckles on the door, Naal pulled her hood back and waited. Her hands clasped together in front of her.
Seconds later, a great bolt clanked on the other side of the door and it fractionally creaked open. Wide enough to see a sliver of a woman’s face, one beady golden-brown eye peering at them cautiously through the gap.
It was familiar, somehow.
‘Maressa Astaveron,’ Naal said gently. ‘Did you receive my-’
The woman ripped the door fully open then, her rosy-cheeked face instantly brightening with a wide smile as she beheld who stood at her doorstep.
Kyra had expected an older woman in her seventies, eighties even, but Maressa couldn’t have been any older than forty.
‘Naal? Naal Westerra?’ she asked in breathy anticipation.
Naal gave a kind smile. ‘You remember.’
‘Of course I remember!’ Maressa exclaimed, throwing out a bony hand for Naal to shake, tears brimming in her eyes. She began gushing at a high speed, ‘How could I forget? We were thrilled, thrilled, to receive your letter! I apologise for not replying, had we the means to, we would have-’
‘No matter at all, I am just glad you received it.’
Maressa peered anxiously around the door, then ushered them in.
‘Come in, please, come in! Selwyn is upstairs, I will fetch him, he will be most pleased to see you! We could hardly wait once we heard you were coming. It hasn’t been easy since…
well, you know! Tea! I’ll make some tea, shall I?
You have travelled a long way! Are you hungry?
I can cook something-’ Maressa seemed to only just notice Kyra was there. ‘Oh, my manners! And who are you?’
Kyra glanced at Naal, unsure whether to reveal her true identity, but Naal said in a lowered tone, ‘This is Kyra. She is the Earth Warden, Maressa.’
‘Bless my soul,’ whispered the waterling, those unshed tears now brimming over the edge and rolling down her rosy cheeks.
‘There had been rumours, and I didn’t dare believe them…
but it’s true.’ She fell to her knees. ‘Praise Corla! Praise the Four! The Earth Warden in my home! In my lifetime, I never thought, never even imagined…’
Kyra bit back the awkward laugh that threatened to escape her. She’d never been around such piety before: the humans of Avaldale no longer worshipped the Four, and though she’d grown up believing in Them, she and her family hadn’t taken much care in revering the Four Mothers.
Goddess… why the fuck had Roheia chosen her? Surely there was someone out there, far more devout and devoted to Them, who was better suited to the Earth Warden title?
Anyone would have been better than her.
Maressa pushed herself to standing, her lip quivering with suppressed emotion as she wrung Kyra’s hands in both of hers.
‘It is an honour, Kyra. A true honour. You are so very welcome in this home. Blessed, am I! I must fetch Selwyn, but please, both of you, make yourselves at home… I think there are biscuits in the kitchen… help yourselves to whatever you can find! I will be right back…’
In a rush, she scurried up a creaky staircase a few feet from the front door. When she was out of earshot, Kyra immediately turned to Naal. ‘She’s the Water Warden’s mother?’
‘She is.’
‘He can’t be much older than I am.’
‘He’s not,’ Naal said off-handedly as her gaze wandered over the oddities of the little house. ‘He’s fifteen.’
‘Fifteen?’
Naal didn’t reply as Maressa hurried back down the stairs, followed by a tall man with dark brown, almost black hair as long as his wife’s, and pulled into a low ponytail at the back of his head.
He did not share the same bubbling excitement as Maressa, wearing instead a worrisome expression that was apparent even through his weary yet welcoming smile.
Both of them were thin, not obviously malnourished, but slender enough to suggest that a lack of hearty food might have been a frequent occurrence.