Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)(68)

She hesitated, but she realized she wouldn’t find what she needed without help. ‘I need to find the soma flower.’

Tomarys suddenly stopped, gripping Chloe by the upper arm as he stared down at her. ‘You don’t mean to obtain tar of heaven?’ He shook his head. ‘It is outlawed by decree of the sun king.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I only want the flower. Among my people, it has been used for generations to ease pain. It is safe if prepared correctly, I assure you.’

Tomarys released Chloe’s arm, but continued to scowl at her. He wasn’t convinced.

‘Please, trust me,’ she said. ‘The tar and the flower it comes from are different things.’

He shook his head once more.

‘Tomarys, the sun king will no doubt have someone taste any medicine I give him. I have no wish to be killed.’

He rubbed his chin. ‘You follow the goddess of healing?’

‘Aeris is my personal deity. I studied at the temple.’

‘You are certain?’

‘I am. I don’t want the tar, only the flower.’

He finally nodded with reluctance and led her back the way they had come, turning into a thin path between a cluster of stalls until they were in a hidden section of the bazaar. This area was seedy and ramshackle, with beggars sitting against the walls and skinny youths standing lookout. A street urchin weaved around them, almost circling, his eyes appraising as he inspected the newcomers, assessing the potential for threat. But Tomarys, despite his appearance, was unarmed, and Chloe posed no danger.

Tomarys waited for the boy to nod, and then led Chloe to an old man with pockmarked skin and a hooked nose, standing outside a wooden hut and drinking tea.

‘Tell him what you want,’ Chloe’s bodyguard instructed.

‘I want soma flowers,’ Chloe said.

‘You want tar of heaven?’ The old man looked at Tomarys and then back to her. ‘Show me your coin.’

‘I don’t want the tar,’ she said. ‘I want some of the flowers.’

‘What for?’ He looked down his hooked nose and scowled. ‘It is the tar you want.’

‘Just the flowers,’ she insisted.

He scratched at his cheek as he considered. Finally, the old man nodded. ‘Wait here.’

She glanced at Tomarys, seeing that he appeared surprisingly nonchalant, but wondering if it was an act. Her instincts told her that she needed to be wary. She felt comforted by her escort’s towering presence.

The old man returned, emerging from behind the shack and beckoning. ‘Follow me.’

The pair fell in behind him. The hut covered the approach of a narrow lane, with high stone walls on both sides. The pockmarked old man continued to beckon them forward, into the boxed alley.

‘This is a dangerous place,’ Tomarys muttered. ‘We should go.’

‘You serve me?’ Chloe tilted her head to look up at him.

‘I do. I must protect you. I must also keep you close, and never let you out of my sight.’ Tomarys’s voice became deeper, a rumbling growl. ‘But girl, do not think we are friends. I will do my duty and no more. If you try to escape, I have orders to recapture you, or kill you if I must.’

The lane was long and curved, so that it was hard to see what they would find at the other end. Eventually, they saw light. The old man had now vanished, and a boy who couldn’t have been older than seven stood waiting for them.

‘Two silvers,’ he said.

Tomarys took a pouch from his belt and counted out the coins, handing them to the boy.

‘Wait here,’ the boy instructed. Leaving them still a dozen paces from the alley’s end, he exited and soon vanished.

‘I doubt we’ll see him again,’ Chloe murmured.

‘Look,’ said Tomarys.

The boy returned. Glancing around him, looking past the two figures to see if anyone lurked behind them, he handed Chloe a leather pouch.

She started to open the pouch.

‘Not here,’ the boy hissed.

She opened it anyway. Within were two plump flowers, somewhere between fresh and completely dried, with petals closed. Noting the purple-yellow coloring and pale green stem, Chloe nodded.

The boy departed without another word.

‘Back to the palace,’ she said.

‘I hope you know what you are doing,’ Tomarys muttered.





29


It was late in the women’s quarters as Chloe sat cross-legged on her bed pallet, with only the light of a few flickering torches to see by.

Tomarys slept nearby on a woven mat, lying on his back as his chest rose and fell evenly. He was covered in just a thin linen sheet, but at least the night was warm. He’d told her this was an improvement compared to his last sleeping quarters.

Given her bodyguard’s reactions, Chloe had decided it would be best if she worked at night. Tomarys had fetched a mortar and pestle on their return, and one of the flower pods was still in the pouch, hidden under the pallet.

The other was in the bowl-shaped mortar on her lap. Keeping her movements quiet, Chloe used the pestle to grind the bulb, working over the broken bits of plant again and again. She recalled the instruction she’d received at the Temple of Aeris in Phalesia and knew that the finer the particles became, the more surface area would be exposed to allow the pain-relieving agents to be extracted.