House of Salt and Sorrows(47)

I remembered Ava’s last few hours, her gasps for air, her cries for release. “No, I understand what you mean. My sister…”

He nodded in my silence. “Your younger sisters are thoroughly charming. The little one—Verity?—she looks quite a lot like you.”

“They didn’t talk your ear off, did they?”

“Not a bit. I enjoyed the company. The past few weeks have been a rather friendless existence.”

I murmured something about relating, then paused. It wasn’t exactly as though he’d been stuck on Selkirk the entire time. He had gone to Pelage. To the ball. “I hope not all of them have been without pleasure.”

When he smiled, his eyes danced, flickering shades of deep blue. “Of course not.”

“I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see you after…I hoped we’d run into each other again.”

“Did you?” Cassius bit back a pleased smile.

Without the sparkling bit of mask to hide behind, my words felt too bold, too brazen, but I remembered what he’d said at the ball. Regret was the darkest nightmare of all. “I really did.”

His smile turned to a full grin. “I’m glad to hear it.”

My cheeks burned with pleasure, and I looked away from him, feeling too shy to meet his eyes.

On the wall behind him was a large tapestry of Arcannia. Each section was woven with a different-colored thread.

I pointed to it. “Where’s your home?”

He turned to study the map. “A little bit here, a little bit there. I’ve lived just about everywhere.”

“A sailor?” I guessed.

“Something like that.”

“Which was your favorite?”

He shifted his chair closer to mine, offering us both a better view of the tapestry. “I liked them all, I suppose.” He gestured to a bold yellow swatch in the middle of the kingdom. “That’s Lambent. I was there for a bit in my childhood. Have you ever been?” I shook my head. “It’s a long, hot desert, with hills of sand as far as the eye can see. The sun beats down, drying everything out.”

“How do people live like that? So thoroughly cut off from water?”

“There are oasis springs here and there. And there are great beasts called camels, with giant humps and ungainly legs. They walk like this.” He used his fingers to pantomime a four-legged creature walking across the table. “They carry the People of the Light, worshippers of Vaipany, across the sands.” He pointed to a mountain range, sewn in stitches jagged and blood red. “When I was eight, we spent a brief time in the Cardanian Mountains.”

My breath sucked in. “That’s where the Tricksters are, isn’t it?”

Cassius nodded. “And the god of unholy bargains, Viscardi.”

I winced. Even hearing that name spoken out loud made my head ache. Would the Trickster take it as an invitation to join us? “What was that like?”

“It’s a poor community. People there make their living picking the Nyxmist plant. Its flowers are bright red, like cranesbill. It only grows there, very high, near the snow line. The oil is prized by healers and is said to cure nearly any sickness. You can instantly tell who in the village harvests the flowers. Their hands are perpetually stained red by a dye the plant secretes.”

“How awful,” I murmured, imagining a town full of people with bloodied hands. “Is that what they’re called? The People of the Flowers?”

“The People of the Bones,” he corrected.

My nose wrinkled. “I don’t think that’s a place I’d care to visit. Why were you there?”

Cassius laughed. “I wasn’t making bargains, if that’s what you think!” His voice lowered. “My mother had business to attend to.”

I couldn’t imagine Mama shepherding us around the kingdom, actively pursuing her own livelihood, and was instantly intrigued. “What does she d—”

“This was my favorite,” he said, cutting me off, and stood up to tap the northernmost section of the map. “Zephyr’s domain. Tiny pockets of postulants make their home on rocky outcrops. They decorate their villages with blue streamers and banners and flags. Dozens of windmills spin all day, their spokes making a grand symphony of clatter.”

Had he interrupted my question in his excitement, or had he purposefully avoided it? “The People of the Gale,” I supplied, studying him.

“Yes, exactly!” A clock hanging over the bar chimed the hour. “Is it really three already?” he asked, squinting. “I’m afraid I must be going. I came over on a neighbor’s boat. He swore he’d leave me behind if I was late.”

“Cassius, I…” As his eyes lit on mine, my thoughts flew from me. I wanted to know more about him, so much more, but as he pulled on his raincoat, my mind was suddenly blank and my mouth empty. “Do you like strudel?”

His eyes twinkled in amusement, and I wanted to cringe. What had gotten into me? I felt bewitched, as if someone else was in control of my body. Someone who wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through Cassius’s dark hair. Someone who wanted to pull that head full of curls toward her and finally be kissed. Someone who wanted…My cheeks burned as my mind raced with improprieties.

“Well, that depends,” he replied, his voice light and teasing. “Are you inviting me out for strudel, Annaleigh?”