Chapter 10 #2
‘No, it’s not like that at all,’ said Artair, although he sounded thoughtful. ‘Listen, we should start thinking about where we’re going to spend the night. If we leave the city, there won’t be any rented rooms to stay in. I can’t risk the Other having the same freedom I have right now.’
‘You’ve got your ropes, haven’t you?’ Whatever she decided to do about Mother Maura and this Sleepless spirit, she had to get out of the Addersport; the hypocritical statue was a step too far.
‘I can tie you up outside as well as I can tie you up indoors.’ Elver paused.
The cub was abruptly wriggling in her arms, threatening to make her drop him. ‘Ugh, what is it?’
I need to go…
‘I’ve told you, little one, we can’t let you out of this sack until we’re well out of the city…’
No, I need to go now. Normally, I go outside of the nest.
Elver’s heart sank. Carrying around a pee-soaked sack was a level of misery she wasn’t keen to endure.
‘What is it?’ asked Artair. They had left the temple district behind and were in a shabbier section of the city.
The waterways here were narrow, and clogged in places with discarded garbage.
The people here were dressed in clothes that looked as though they’d seen better days.
As an orphan Elver had been quite familiar with handed-down clothes.
‘The cub needs… he needs the toilet,’ she replied. Artair raised his eyebrows. ‘I’ll take him down this alleyway here, where he won’t be seen.’
Elver went to the very end of the alleyway, where it was dark even on such a bright autumn day.
There were windows high up on the walls here, but they were thick with dirt or patched up from the inside, so she thought it very unlikely anyone would be looking out at them.
She opened the sack and the cub tumbled out, frantically sniffing the air and scurrying about.
In the grime of the alley, he looked incredibly bright, a beautiful piece of the monster forest let loose.
His eyes flashed ghost-green. Despite herself, she smiled.
‘Listen, just hurry up and go. It’s dangerous for you to be out in the open here.
’ She glanced back to the mouth of the alley.
Artair was there, looking off down the street.
He was caught in a beam of sunlight, turning his brown hair almost coppery.
Viewing him from a distance, it was striking how tall he was, how perfect his posture—he was straight as an arrow.
Like the arrow he shot this creature’s mother with , she reminded herself.
A few feet away from where the cub was sniffing, the alleyway came to a dead end.
Otherwise, she could have picked up the cub and slipped away without Artair noticing.
Of course, if she did that… She realized that the prospect of facing down Maura was growing more attractive. She turned back to the young creature.
‘Hurry up.’
I can’t go if you’re looking.
‘Oh, for the love of the Twelve…’
Elver rubbed a hand over her face. The day had only just started and already she was desperate for it to come to an end. The cub trotted over to a discarded crate and began sniffing it.
This smells interesting. Do you think it had cheese in it?
‘I don’t know. Please do your business.’
She turned away to give the cub some privacy and was startled to see a figure heading down the alleyway towards her.
He was tall and dressed in white, and she recognized him immediately: he was the priest who had been standing outside the Temple of Trilot the Faceless.
Of Artair there was no sign. Elver moved to stand in front of the cub, but it was already too late.
‘What’s that you’ve got there?’ he barked. ‘Does it belong to you?’
‘ He belongs to no one,’ she said, standing her ground.
Now that he was up close, she could see that the human was hand some in an obvious way, his eyes an icy blue and his hair the colour of ripe wheat.
He was in his thirties, she thought, and there was an intensity to his gaze that was deeply unnerving. He did not blink often enough.
‘You remarkable idiot. You’ve brought a monster into the city. Don’t you know that these filthy creatures are banned from civilized places?’
Elver laughed, shook her head. She thought of the statue. ‘Calling this place civilized is rich. Listen, priest, I don’t give a fig about the rules of Addersport, or your holy order, so I suggest you back off.’ Her hand drifted to the knife at her belt.
He loomed over her. ‘How dare you.’
‘I dare alright.’ The cub was nosing at the back of her legs. He wanted to know what was going on.
‘That creature must be confiscated. We have ways of dealing with the children of the serpent at the temple. If I…’ Something in his face changed. His nose wrinkled, and suddenly he had hold of her sleeved wrist, squeezing it tightly enough that it hurt. Elver couldn’t reach her blade.
‘Get off me! I thought priests of Trilot weren’t allowed to touch other people.’
‘ What are you? ’ The force of his grip increased.
‘I can smell… You’re not human! I knew it when you walked past the temple.
Dirty jih scum . Walking into the city, bold as brass.
’ His nostrils flared and he glanced up at the sky.
‘Trilot, thank you for sending me this test. I will deal with her as you have bid me in my dreams.’
‘Let go of me right now or you’ll regret it.’ She tried to yank her arm away, but he was surprisingly strong, his fingers like a vice. The priest grinned, exposing too many teeth.
‘Oh my girl, monster kin don’t have any rights here.
In fact, you could scream until the city guard came and they would still give you to me.
You and the little creature belong to Trilot now.
My name is Kantor Witt, and I am a faceless priest of the seventh order.
There’s a place for you in the temple that’s just perfect for what I have in mi—’
‘I warned you.’
Elver reached up and placed the flat of her free hand against the priest’s face.
There was a second of confusion and then he shrieked, yanking his head away—but Elver clung on, feeling a fierce satisfaction as the skin beneath her hand grew warm and then hot.
He grabbed her arm and yanked her away, revealing a livid red imprint of her hand on his left cheek. Blisters were forming as she watched.
‘ What have you done? ’
Elver reached down and scooped up the cub and the sack before pelting down the alleyway to the far end.
Kantor Witt, the priest of Trilot, was cursing her, screaming oaths of vengeance, and all she could think about was the unmissable red mark that marred his handsome face.
His superiors would be able to see at a glance that he had been touched—that he had betrayed his holy orders. She grinned.
When she reached the street she saw Artair some distance away, frowning at a bakery window. He straightened up as she approached.
‘Should we buy some bread for the journey? One of those loaves should last us at least—’
‘Run,’ she shouted as she sped past him. ‘We need to get out of the city, now .’