Black Sun (Between Earth and Sky, #1)(87)

What’s wrong with you, Xiala, she told herself as she drank from the bottle, is that you can’t keep a handful of cacao in your purse for more than a day, or a place to rest your head for a week. And whose fault was that but her own? She wanted to blame it on her poor luck, on a faithless crew or a cursed deal. But this wasn’t the first time she’d found herself reduced to a bottle of liquor and the clothes on her back. There was something else deeply wrong with her, something she had no desire to examine with any rigor. At least this time, she thought brightly, you’re not in jail and you’re not alone. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

A barge came into view, a low flat-bottomed vessel anchored against the natural riverbank. Resin lanterns hung from poles at its fore and aft, and a rung ladder offered entrance down the embankment to the deck. It loosely resembled the fine canoe she’d just sold for nothing, but it was only half the length, and the majority of the black-washed deck was enclosed, leaving only a narrow expanse exposed on either side and a larger area at the stern that was wide enough for a gathering. The barge was attached to a harness, now empty, that faced upriver. Xiala squinted at the contraption but couldn’t quite make out what was supposed to go there. A dozen men or a massive beast of some kind, or something completely different. Pole stations stood at each corner of the rectangular ship, no doubt used to keep the vessel from colliding with the shore while in motion and moving along in shallow water when whatever it was that pulled the barge wasn’t employed.

Her guide landed on the thatched roof of the barge and gave a definitive squawk. She offered the creature a salute of thanks before taking the ladder down. Serapio appeared from the shadows as her feet hit the deck.

She startled, letting out a small scream. Her night vision was good, and she should have seen him, but he blended into the darkness here even better than he had at sea.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. “I heard the crow return.”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking off the spike of adrenaline. She looked around at their new transportation, but most of it was shrouded in the growing twilight. “Looks like you found us passage.”

“A bunk in a room shared with three other travelers, but the captain assures me he can have us in Tova before the Convergence.”

She grunted. Three others? Well, it was no worse than bunking with the crew. “That the room?” she asked, peering around Serapio’s shoulder to the chamber behind him.

“Behind me? Yes.”

She stepped around him and paused. He smelled clean. Like water and soap.

“Did you bathe?”

“In the river.”

Her whole body drooped in disappointment. “Not a steam bath?”

“The river. It’s very refreshing.”

Which probably meant it was like sitting naked in a frozen pond. She wanted heat, not ice. But maybe it was better than nothing.

She peered inside through the reed walls. It was a tight fit, and sure enough three men were already crowded in, hunched over a dice game of some kind on the floor.

“Those our cabinmates inside?”

“Pilgrims,” he confirmed. “Traveling for the solstice.”

“Gambling pilgrims?” She laughed, skeptical.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “Did you find the harbormaster?”

“All sorted,” she said. “And I got a new cloak.” She held it out for his inspection, and then remembered he couldn’t see it. “It’s wool,” she explained. “Water-resistant.”

“Which reminds me.” He picked up something from the ground beside his feet and handed it to her. It looked to be a bundle of cotton. She unwrapped it, and it came apart into two pieces. Clothing. She held it up.

“Is it pants?” he asked.

“And a shirt.”

The clothes were simple but well made. The shirt was square, and the long sleeves were stitched at the shoulders. It looked a size too small, but it wasn’t unusable. The pants were long and loose, but when she held them up, they came only to her calves. With sandals she would be cold, but if she could find boots somewhere, they would suffice. Both items were the same dull white as the clothes she wore now, but the pants had a colorful embroidery at the hem and waist, and the shirt was cropped. “Are these children’s clothes?”

“I bought them from one of the pilgrims. They were to be a gift for a nephew. Will they fit?”

“I’m going to look like an adolescent boy with breasts and hips,” she protested, “but…” She sighed. “At least they’re clean.”

They turned as a roar of victory emanated from the room where the pilgrims were. Good-natured shouting and benches being moved, and then the men were pouring out the door, loud and boisterous. The one in the lead almost ran into Xiala, the captain catching him at the last minute before they collided.

The man’s eyes met hers, and Xiala saw that he wasn’t a man at all, but a very attractive woman, hair cut short on the sides and pulled back tightly in a knot in a decidedly masculine style.

“My apologies,” the woman murmured, and Xiala caught a hint of liquor on her breath as she smiled. The harbormaster had been the first woman Xiala had seen in weeks, and now this one, and she felt some tension she was carrying drain from her shoulders. She loved the sea, loved Cuecola with its majestic architecture and sophistication, but mother waters, it was good to be on this side of the Meridian.