Black Sun (Between Earth and Sky, #1)(88)

“No apology needed,” she answered, returning the smile.

The woman sized her up, a drunken flirty look. “Would you and your friend like to join us?” she asked. “My brothers and I are going in search of dinner and more drink. Maybe a gambling table if there’s one to be found.”

Her brothers were already pounding up the ladder.

“Go on, Xiala,” Serapio said at her side. “Go enjoy your evening.”

“What about you?” she asked, turning to study his face, but it was hard to catch his expression in the dark folds of his cowl.

“I can’t give you what you want,” he said quietly, just for her ears and with too much insight for her liking.

“So…?” the woman asked, dragging a finger down Xiala’s arm. Longing hit her all at once. Not for the stranger, who was attractive enough to make her evening exciting, but for the man beside her. The unavailable one. She cursed under her breath.

“No,” Xiala said, resolute, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Another time, then,” the woman said lightly, and then she was clambering up the ladder, shouting for her brothers to wait up. Xiala listened to their laughter trailing away into the night, and exhaled heavily.

“Why didn’t you go?” Serapio asked. “She seemed very interested in you.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, pushing him forward into the now-empty room. “Apparently, I don’t want to have a good time with fun attractive people. I want to sit morosely in an empty room and drink alone with you instead.”

She looked around at their temporary housing. It was luxurious compared to the canoe. A double bunk bed on either side of a room that was almost as long as the ship was wide, and two raised reed mats that ran along the far wall to make a total of six beds. A table in the middle of the room that the previous occupants had shoved aside to throw dice on the wood floor, and two long benches beside it. There were blankets that looked fairly fresh piled on each bed and a small window directly across from the door that opened to the outside. For two people it would have been perfect, but for six it was going to be tight.

“It’s nice,” she admitted, as Serapio felt his way forward with his staff. “It looks like they’ve claimed one of the bunks and the beds along the wall. That leaves us the other bunk.”

“This one?” He dumped his travel bag on the correct mat.

“I guess I’m sleeping above,” she said, eyeing the top bunk. Now that she was close, it didn’t look all that steady.

“You can sleep with me,” Serapio offered.

“Watch it, crow man,” she said, laughing. “I’ve been on a ship for the past two weeks with a celibate. Offer now, and who knows what happens? I’ve only got so much self-control.” But she was teasing, and he knew her well enough by now to know it. He gave her one of his half-smiles.

“What if I tell you a story?”

She paused in the act of draping her new cloak over the ladder to her bunk. “What?”

“We’ll be in Tova soon, so it’s time I told you what to expect when we arrive.”

It was the same thought she’d had earlier. She felt their time together shrinking at an alarming rate. A few days in this room, on this barge, and then they would go their separate ways. And she would have to face her mess of a life and figure out what to do next. But mostly, she would miss him.

A chill rolled over her, not from the wet weather outside, but from a panic that made her stomach hurt. She pasted on a smile, which she realized was wasted on him, and said, “Sure! But first a bath!”

She bit her lip. She sounded like a fool. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t call her on her falsity.

He stretched out on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head. Pulled his cowl down so it covered everything but his mouth. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

She grabbed her clean clothes, the soap that sat on the table, and the bottle of alcohol she had brought from the ship and hurried out the door.





CHAPTER 30




THE TOVASHEH RIVER

YEAR 325 OF THE SUN

(4 DAYS BEFORE CONVERGENCE)

I saw a terrible thing today. A dozen crows, small but fierce, attacked a much larger owl that had entered their territory. It was raiding their nests and had eaten a nestling. The crows attacked it with their beaks and claws, but the owl seemed to only see them as an annoyance. It even plucked one from the sky, breaking its neck before hurling it to the canyon floor below.

—From Observations on Crows, by Saaya, age thirteen



Serapio was dozing lightly when Xiala returned. He had let the lamp burn down to almost nothing, too comfortable to get up and relight it. At night everything became shadows upon shadows anyway, and he saw just as well in full darkness as with lamplight, which was not at all. But as the solstice drew nearer, he had sensed the shadow within him growing, too, and with it his perception had sharpened. He was still as blind as he had been since he was twelve, but Xiala in particular seemed to register more brightly, more intensely, in his awareness. He didn’t know if it was because the god was growing within him, or if it was her Teek magic, but he sensed everything about her more acutely and missed her when she was gone.

He listened to her move about the room, trying to be quiet so as not to wake him. He wanted to ask her to join him again, to share the narrow bed, but was afraid she would say no. Fear. It was an emotion he had not felt in a while. Want was not something he had felt recently, either, but he experienced it now, a sharp pain in his chest. He wanted her close, wanted her scent of sun and salt and ocean magic in his nose.