Black Sun (Between Earth and Sky, #1)(93)

“I remember the first time I saw one,” the woman continued. “It was just a baby, but I about shit my pants. Big as my whole body right out of the egg. My name is Aishe.”

“Xiala.”

“You’re not from here.”

“Cuecola,” she lied. She didn’t know this Aishe well enough to share her heritage, and if Aishe didn’t recognize her telltale eyes as a giveaway, then she would just be the stuff of fairy tales, and it didn’t matter.

“I’m Tovan born and bred,” Aishe explained, coming forward to lean her back against the railing, still facing Xiala. “Clan Water Strider, in fact.”

Xiala blanched. “Those insects are your namesake?”

“This one’s named Paipai.”

“It has a name?”

“They’re actually pretty friendly. You can pet it later if you want.”

“No. I’m fine.” Xiala wasn’t squeamish, but getting any closer to the beast seemed unnecessary. “Is it your pet?”

“My mother’s husband’s brother runs this barge. That makes him Water Strider, too, and my mother lends Paipai out for special occasions. He’s very tame.”

“What is the special occasion?”

“Solstice. Lots of people coming up for solstice.” Her gaze roamed over the barge. “Well, normally there would be, but with the death of the Carrion Crow matron and the Sun Rock riots, it’s put a damper on the festivities.”

“The matron?”

“Matrons are the leaders of the clans. The Carrion Crow one died in her bed last week, week before? Anyway, there’s rumors that it was no accident. And there was a riot at her funeral. A dozen people hurt and two Crows dead. Whole city on curfew for days. Anyway, it’s enough to be a discouragement to tourists, to be sure. Plus, this weather?” She held out a hand to catch the rain. “Not surprising that so many country folk decided to stay home.”

Did Serapio know the head of his clan had died? That he was walking into a city on the edge already? This had to be the news the harbormaster had alluded to yesterday. She’d forgotten to mention it, but in all fairness Serapio had admitted he didn’t know anyone in Carrion Crow and wasn’t there to reunite with his extended family, anyway. Maybe her death didn’t matter, but a dangerous city certainly did.

“I thought you and your brothers were pilgrims.”

“That was Tyode. He was joking.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s an idiot but mostly harmless. He sold your friend those clothes.” She gestured toward Xiala with her lips. “You can borrow some of mine if you prefer. They’d fit at least.”

Xiala frowned. “So, you’re not pilgrims?”

“No, my brothers are security, and I take care of Paipai.” Aishe looked her up and down, a long, evaluating look. “So, you’re with the cultist. What did you call him, Serapio?”

“What? Oh, yes. Serapio.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to join us last night if I’d known you were spoken for.”

Xiala didn’t know the phrase spoken for. It sounded like a Tovan phrase translated into Trade. But she got the gist.

“We are only friends.”

Aishe smirked, face skeptical.

“Why do you call him a cultist?” It was another word she didn’t recognize.

“He’s not one? He sure looks like one.”

“I guess I don’t understand.”

“The cultists call themselves Odohaa. They are followers of the old ways who hate the Watchers. You can ask my uncle about them. He knows more. Anyway, I came to get you to bring you back so you could see the fights.”

Xiala was still trying to process everything Aishe had told her, but the last comment made her jaw drop. “Fights?”

“Sparring. Your friend”—she emphasized friend with a knowing wink—“is incredible. He already beat Zash once, but he was going to take on Tyode and Zash at the same time. And blind!” She shook her head, amazed.

“Serapio can fight? We are talking about fighting?”

Aishe’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, yes. You’re in for a treat.”

Aishe led her down the narrow side deck to the back of the barge. Here was a large open landing, enough for a dozen people to gather comfortably… or for three men to fight. A fourth man stood to the side, leaning on a barge pole, likely the uncle Aishe had referred to, but Xiala’s eyes were on the center of the makeshift ring.

The two men she knew now to be Zash and Tyode stood stripped to the waist, soaked by the steady rain. One held a wicked-looking knife, half as long as Xiala’s arm and tipped with obsidian. But Xiala saw the obsidian edge had been covered with cloth. Still, the side edge would cut flesh if not puncture. The other brother brandished a spear made of wood that he thrust forward. And dancing lightly around them both, avoiding knife and spear alike, was Serapio. He was also bare to the waist, and he had tied his hair back off his face with the strip of cloth that usually went around his eyes. He moved like liquid, swinging his bone staff in a wide, devastating arc.

“Touch!” the uncle yelled, and Tyode bowed his head.

Zash laughed. “You are too slow, Brother. That’s three to one. One more and we lose.”

Serapio must have struck Tyode, but it had happened so fast she had missed it. She looked over at Aishe, who raised her eyebrows in appreciation.