Текст книги "The sea ogres eager bride"

Автор книги: Ruby Dixon

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Chapter

Eleven

RANAN

This human female is infuriating. No matter how many times I tell her that she is my wife, yet she does not believe me. She looks at me with doubt in her eyes, fear in her posture. She frets that the smallest inconvenience will make me change my mind and I will abandon her on the nearest shore.

She is…right.

That is the worst part of it.

Because I did try to get rid of her. I did attempt to find a human settlement and leave her there, only to realize they would treat her far more poorly than I would. So I am keeping her, and yet the promise of that is not enough. I must somehow prove to her that I have truly changed my mind. That I will not abandon her just because she has her monthly moon courses, or that she does not feel well. I will not leave her behind just because I am inconvenienced by her presence.

I don’t know how to prove this, though. I do not need to make clever conversation to the rocky shores and the waves. I do not need to entertain the fish I catch. I certainly do not need to please the humans I rob with my presence. I am good at being alone, and I bring my wealth back to my family’s flotilla. It is an arrangement that suits both of our parties well.

And yet now I have a wife, and I must change something, because it is growing increasingly clear to me that she will not be able to survive with the few amenities I keep stored on Akara’s back. I think about the look on Vali’s face when I offered her cloth—the sheer wonder when she touched the silks, the way she held the burgundy fabric as if she had never caressed anything finer. It makes me want to find the nearest human settlement and shake them all, one by one, for treating such a pleasant female in such a manner.

It makes me want to find more pretty things to please Vali, too. That urge annoys me, because she should be grateful I am keeping her, and yet I am the one eager to please. Hmph. I do not need to do anything to give her a better home than she had.

I tell myself this even as I spend all night hunting the seagrass fruit.

I tell myself this as I make the swim to shore and cut down more cattail pods for her.

I tell myself this as I spend half the night swimming ahead of Akara to my grotto, where I store the goods I steal from humans and look for things that might please her. I have jewels and weapons and a few statues and vases, but nothing that seem as if they would appeal to a woman in pain. Frustrated, I dig through the fabrics I have stolen from laden ships and use them to make a large, soft pile that will act as a bunk. I normally drift in the water at Akara’s side when I sleep, but she clearly needs a bed.

I remember that she mentioned raw fish, too. The humans cook their meat, I recall from the few human settlements I’ve passed through. They cook their meat and cover it with salt and add roots, as if they are trying to make up for all the flavor they have burned out of it. She will want to cook her food once I bring her to the grotto, I suspect. She liked the raw fish I gave her before, but she could have been pretending. I look around at the treasures and pick up a jewel-crusted pot, wondering if this is used for cooking. My people do not cook. We eat what the sea provides, cold and raw. It irritates me that I must go to such lengths to suit her, and I toss the pot aside with a huff.

I swim back to Akara, my mood sour. Through our mental bond, I know automatically how to find her, letting our link guide me to the hamarii despite the endless sameness of the open waters. I climb back up onto her back as dawn nears, and glimpse into the tent at my human wife.

She lies upon the floor in a huddled ball, curled around her limbs. Cattail pods are emptied, the shells neatly lined up by her feet, and the scent of cattail fluff—and blood—is everywhere inside the tent. The burgundy fabric is carefully folded under her head, acting as a pillow, and she uses her torn dress over her loins instead of the fabric I gave her. Vali is asleep, her breathing regular. Even in her sleep, however, her brows are furrowed, as if she cannot escape the pain even then.

All of the annoyance I have felt at having to accommodate her vanishes in a moment. She hurts, and I want to make it better. She has been all smiles and eagerness since I met her, and I do not like seeing her like this. I do not like how helpless it makes me feel.

I drop my bags of cattails and seagrass fruit just outside the tent, hitch one of the pouches of gold to my belt, and head into the waters again. Perhaps I can find a place where they will trade gold for this “willow bark.”

As I tend to move along the same stretch of shoreline, I also have a few villages that I visit from time to time for trading. They provide me with supplies, and I trade them necklaces and gold and they do not ask questions. It works well for both of us. There is a village not too far from my grotto, so while Akara continues her leisurely swim towards my home, I head farther up the shore to Godsthorne. It’s a peaceful, tiny village at the crossroads of a major Aventinian trading route. While few farmers live here—the soil is too rocky for most crops—there’s a small population of traders, and an inn that stays busy.

I know the innkeeper, and he also peddles supplies from time to time. I shake off the water from the sea and make my way inland as the sun comes up over the horizon. It illuminates the craggy hills here and the cattle that graze upon them. There are few trees. I’m told that inland, in the heart of the continent, there are trees big enough to house entire villages, but I cannot picture it. A few sheepherders stare at me, covered in their human clothing from head to foot, and for the first time, I wonder whether I shouldn’t wear human-like clothing when I go into their towns.

Vali would know. She would be full of advice. Perhaps my wife will be of more use to me than I thought.

The road is a familiar route to Godsthorne, and before the sun grows too high in the sky, I can see the thatched roofs of the cluster of homes that make up the village. I head toward the largest one, the inn, and push the door open.

No one is inside. The inn itself reeks of too many people, spilled beer and last night’s food. The benches are propped atop the tabletops and the wood floors gleam wetly, having recently been washed. There’s a young woman with yellow braids behind the bar, rubbing a tankard with a rag and yawning as she does. The innkeeper’s daughter. She immediately straightens at the sight of me and races to the back room. “Papa! Visitors from the sea!”

I move to the bar and put my hands atop it, waiting impatiently. I want to get back before Vali is awake for too long and panics that she’s been abandoned. I should have said something to her last night, I realize. What if she awakens and thinks I’ve left her and jumps into the sea? She’ll sink to the bottom for certain, where Vor’s dark children will feast upon her. My mouth flattens at the thought. Why didn’t I say anything? She’s already skittish. I am three times a fool.

“Papa!” the girl screeches from the room behind the bar. “Papa⁠—”

“I know, I know,” calls out a grumpy voice. “I’m coming. Hold your woales, girl.” A fat, bald man enters the bar from another part of the house. His name is Anellas, and I’ve dealt with him for many years now. His eyes gleam with avarice at the sight of me, near naked, in his inn. “Hello again, old friend.”

Old friend. As if we are companions more than business partners. It reminds me that I’ve never told him my name. I have never seen the need to, and yet his words make me pause. Does he consider me a friend or is this a politeness? Should I be answering differently? I have never cared what humans thought. I don’t know why I care now.

I toss my bag of gold onto the bar top. “Trade.”

It’s all I ever say. When one word suffices, all I give is one. Today it feels impolite. I have a great many things I want to ask about. What is it that human women like to eat? What can I give my human to ease her pain with her menses? Why won’t she trust me?

“Of course, of course.” Anellas hustles over to my side, opening the bag with greedy fingers. “Been a while since I’ve seen you, sea friend. How’s the weather?”

“I have a wife,” I blurt out, and then my jaw clamps at how foolish I sound.

His bushy brows furrow and he looks up at me. “Felicitations…?”

“She needs willow bark,” I bite out.

“Ah. The monthly pains,” Anellas says with a knowing smile. He picks up a piece of gold and bites it, then shines it on his apron. “Willow bark isn’t cheap, though. Get her belly full of your child. That’ll take care of the willow bark thing. She’ll spend all your coin with her demands if you let her. Women are like that.”

Are they? I glance down the bar, where the yellow-haired daughter is watching us from the doorway, half hidden. She doesn’t look as if her father is spending coin on her at all. Her dress is ragged and patched, and she’s always been working here, even when she was very small.

Anellas bites another medallion, hums to himself, and then starts to rake it toward his apron.

I stop him before he can, hands slamming down on the countertop. “Wait.”

He pales, taking a step back. His gaze flicks over my four arms and my chest. “Is there a problem?”

I take a deep breath through my nose, frustrated. I came here for willow bark, true, but I also came for answers. I wanted to ask about human slaves and how they’re treated. I wanted to ask a great many things about human women, but looking at this man and his timid daughter, I do not think he will be the right one to answer most of them. I tap a finger on the bar as I think. Finally, I come up with a good question. “You have a human wife?”

“I did, aye. She died three years ago, my sweet Bessa.” He sighs and makes the sign of Gental. “Haven’t had a chance to find another, what with the Anticipation and all. Business has been too steady.”

I look around the empty inn, but perhaps the time of day is wrong. Still, this man had a wife. He has a daughter. Surely he knows some about females. So I eye him and slide one of the necklaces out of the pile. “Trade for the others. This one you can have for free if you answer my questions.”

“Gladly, sea friend.” He smiles broadly, perhaps a little too broadly.

“How do I prove to a human woman that she is my wife?”

Anellas’s face screws up and his heavy chin jiggles. “Prove? Prove what? You are her man. She should be glad to have a strapping, virile man like yourself. She’s the woman. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Unhelpful. I glance down the bar at the daughter, hovering in the doorway. She bites her nail and looks as if she wishes to say something. “Speak.”

Her gaze flicks to her father uncertainly. When he waves to indicate that she should speak up, she takes a step forward. “What kind of marriage was it?” she asks. “What kind of ceremony? Did you offer a bribe to goddess Belara?”

I lean back, surprised. “Ceremony?”

“Why yes,” Anellas slides back into the conversation, his tone as greasy as his brow. “Surely you had a wedding ceremony? And after that, the bedding? Ho, ho.” He chortles, quite pleased with himself.

The daughter continues to watch her father, creeping forward another step. She twists her hands in her apron. “A ceremony would make it feel real,” she says in a soft voice. “A ceremony in front of family.”

“I am not near mine.” A ceremony? Truly? The only weddings I have gone to have been lavish affairs between a sea lord and his bride, involving days of feasting and many sacrifices to Vor, and so many flotillas joined together that one could step on turtlebacks for as far as the eye could see. That does not strike me as something that Vali would want.

Then again, I do not know Vali.

“A handfast is just your word,” she continues. “Words can be dismissed. A promise can be broken. But in front of family? That makes it real.”

Hm. Her words are wise. I imagine taking Vali to my flotilla and introducing her to my parents, my sister. They would insist upon a feast. They would fuss over my bride once they got over the strangeness of a human in their midst. And they would accept her.

Perhaps that is what I need to do, then. If I take Vali to my family and have her meet the flotilla, she will know that I am telling the truth. That she is my bride, that I will not abandon her. I grunt, oddly pleased. “Thanks.”

She smiles.

I pluck out a bracelet from the pile before Anellas can get his hands on it and shove it down the bar towards her. “For you. For your help.”

Anellas frowns, but the girl is fast. She snatches up the bracelet and runs away before he can complain. He shakes his head as she retreats, glancing back at me. “Women. She’s not wrong, though. Fuss over your female a bit and she’ll be eating out of your hand.”

Eat out of my hand? I imagine Vali slurping fish out of my grasp. Is this a human custom? I’d rather she eat out of her own, but I try not to let my repugnance show.

“Now, my friend.” Anellas rubs his hands together and gives me another too-big smile. “Let us trade. What can I get for you today? Willow bark tea, yes. What else?”

“Ribbons,” calls the girl from the back. “Ribbons for her hair!”

“Hush, girl,” Anellas yells back.

But I like the idea. “Ribbons,” I echo, thinking. “And ugly cloth.”

“Ugly cloth?”

I nod. “Functional. Not pretty. Cloth you can get dirty.”

Anellas nods. “I think I know just the thing. I have some in the back. It’s expensive, though.” His expression turns woeful. “Almost as expensive as the willow bark tea. You’ll want a cup for your lady to drink out of. Or do you have one?”

I flick a hand at him, indicating he should include a cup. If she needs this to drink tea, I will get it for her. Tea, a cup, ribbons, and ugly cloth she won’t be afraid to get stained. I cross one set of arms, thinking, while Anellas touches my gold with covetous fingers. Then, I know just the thing.

“Cooked food,” I blurt out.

“Cooked food? I can make you a fine meal⁠—”

I cut him off with a hiss. “For her.”

“Ahhh. Is the lady near?” When I scowl, he elaborates. “Should the food be portable?”

I nod.

He waggles a finger in the air. “Let me get you hardtack and dried meat. And cheese. And some dried fruit. Does she like nuts?”

I have no idea. But I imagine she will like anything more than raw fish. “Give me some of all of it.”

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Chapter

Twelve

VALI

Isit at the entrance of the tent, letting the breeze touch my overheated skin, and I try not to panic.

Ranan is gone.

He’s been gone all morning. Normally if I wake up and he’s not in the tent with me, he comes and checks in on me before he swims out again. I’ve waited for hours, though, and there’s been no sign of him. He didn’t sleep with me last night, either. Not that I expected him to, what with my courses, but it just means I haven’t seen him for that much longer.

Dread bubbles in my belly.

If he comes back, perhaps I should tell him my menses finished early. That I’m fine and I’m not cramping at all. They’re certainly better than yesterday but not gone. If he considers me a burden, though, I worry that he’s going to grow impatient. That no matter how much he swears he’s not going to abandon me, he might change his mind. People say all kinds of things to your face, but they will act very different in private. I don’t know Ranan well enough to trust him yet.

So I do what I can to tidy up and make myself presentable. There’s a waterskin left by the door for me, along with another pack of the sweet fruits. I eat and drink, and then clean up, changing out my rags. The fluff from the cattails helps immensely—I make a thick pad of it between two layers of cloth—and toss the messy scraps into a bag that I keep tightly sealed. By the gods, I’ve never appreciated living in a town as much as I have until now. I’d give anything for a copper tub by a hearth, or even a chamberpot.

But I feel much better once I’ve cleaned up and eaten. I stay away from the water’s edge and keep to the tent on the center of Akara’s back. And I wait for Ranan to return, because there’s nothing else to do. Even if he doesn’t come back for me…he’d come back for his turtle, surely?

I’m relieved when I see the sail atop Ranan’s head crest through the water. He swims towards the turtle, and then climbs up on board, water sluicing down his strong body. His gaze immediately goes to me. I wave, awkward but pleased, and he doesn’t look annoyed at the sight of me.

Ranan crosses over Akara’s broad back to my side and then drops a heavy pack in front of my feet. He crouches near me, his expression full of concern. “How are you feeling?”

I manage a smile. “Better today. Truly, I’m fine.”

“Do you bleed?”

His blunt question startles me. “I’m going to bleed for a few days more, aye.”

“Then you are not fine.” He nudges the sopping pack towards me. “Here. I got you things. Human things.”

“Human things?” I echo, surprised. Is this where he’s been all morning? Are we near a city? Is he planning on taking me there and leaving me? I don’t know how to react to this tidbit of information. “Is…there a city nearby, then?”

Ranan shakes his head, opening the large bag since I don’t reach for it. “I swam to meet a trader I work with. He is a short journey from my grotto.”

His grotto? “What’s a grotto?”

“A sea cave. I have one not far from the shore. I keep some of my things there.” He pulls out a wrapped bundle. “Here. This is for you.”

I take it from him, and as I do, it crinkles. It’s a large square of waxed paper, with more wax melted along the edges to seal them and form a pocket. I turn it in my hands to figure out how to open it, and when I find it, I run my finger under the wax and peek inside.

It’s food. There are strips of dried jerky and squares of what look like a traveling hard-tack, all wrapped in the wax paper to protect them from the sea. My mouth waters at the sight of them, the first real red meat I’ve seen in days now. “Oh, by the gods. You didn’t have to do this.”

Ranan pauses, studying my face. “You don’t like?”

I clutch the envelope to my chest. “I love it! But I feel guilty that you’ve spent your coin on me. You truly shouldn’t have.”

He shrugs and pulls out another packet. “This one has nuts and dried fruit. And this one…” He picks it up and shakes it, then frowns. “I do not know what is in this one.”

I wet my lips nervously. “All of this is for me?”

He nods, pulling more things out of the bag. There’s a beaten copper mug that looks like it’s seen better days, but I’m still thrilled at the sight of it. I clutch it as he pulls more and more out of his bag, demonstrating all the things he purchased. There are several packets of dried food stuffs, one of hard cakes, and one full of loose tea.

“Willow bark, just like you asked,” he says. “You will drink this and feel better.”

He says it like a command, but I don’t care. It’s so wonderfully thoughtful. There’s no fire to steep my tea with but I can put it in my mug and just let it sit for a few hours to steep in the sunlight. “This is incredible, Ranan.”

He pulls out two more packets, one large and flat, and when he opens it, I’m surprised to see a plain brown cloth of moderate weave. He’s got cloth already, all of it far superior to this new fabric. My confusion must show on my face. Ranan takes the fabric and pushes it into my grasp. “This fabric is ugly. If you must save the others, at least use this one.”

Oh. He noticed I was hesitant to use the fine silks. I’m even more touched. “This is wonderful, thank you.”

The final packet has…ribbons. Bright ribbons of multiple different colors. I touch one pale yellow strand that has a lovely green vine embroidered on it. “I…don’t understand. What are these for?”

His strange brow furrows. “For you. All of this is for you.”

I touch the ribbons with careful fingers, uncertain of what this means. Do I owe him a favor, perhaps? Are these wedding gifts or something else? Did I somehow communicate to him that I need ribbons?

At my hesitation, he speaks again. “The trader’s daughter said women like pretty things. That I should buy you ribbons. Did she lie to me?”

My lips part and I look up at him in surprise. “You…no. She didn’t lie to you. Thank you.”

“But you are not happy,” he points out.

“I am overwhelmed,” I admit. The covetous, greedy part of me wants to snatch up all the ribbons and pet them for hours. Underneath the yellow and green one is a ribbon in a shade of purple I’ve only seen in the skies, and another looks velvety soft. I’ve never owned such impractical things. Even as a child, before I was a slave, everything I owned was cut down from my mother’s things, and none of it was for simple beauty.

Yet Ranan has gone out of his way to get “human” food because I don’t like the thought of raw fish at the moment. He’s brought me cloth for me to use since the others are too fine. He’s brought me the tea I asked for…and now pretty nonsense ribbons that serve no purpose other than to delight.

No one has ever been so kind, and it scares me. I must not understand what this means. There is an unspoken message I am not understanding. “You did all of this…for me? Why?”

He almost looks offended by my question. “You are my wife.”

Is that the reason? That he has gone so far out of his way simply because I am his wife? It makes me wonder about his expectations. He has not looked at me with desire in his eyes once, and I worry there’s something wrong with me. That he feels stuck with me. “I thank you, Ranan. It was not my intent to make you feel unappreciated with your efforts. I am not used to such kindnesses.”

He says nothing. Simply watches me. When I figure he’s done speaking, I pick up the pouch of willow bark and sniff it, wondering how much I can put into my cup for a dose, and if we have enough fresh water to waste on tea. My waterskin is near empty and I don’t want to bother him for more simply for a cup of tea.

“We will be at my grotto soon. This afternoon.”

“We will?”

He nods. “I go there sometimes when I have goods to store, or when the weather is bad and I do not wish to spend time on Akara’s back.” He leans closer, studying me. “I made a bed for you there. I thought you might like to visit.”

Would I? I think I would love that more than anything right now. Someplace that’s not a tent on a turtle’s back sounds rather delightful…but I don’t want to seem ungrateful. “I’m fine here if it’s too much trouble.”

Ranan’s expression ices over. “Speak truth to me, Vali. I do not like your lies.”

Oh, gods. I’ve done it again. In trying to be accommodating, I’ve annoyed him. I reach out and grab one of his hands. “I would love to go see your cave,” I blurt out. “I’m not used to being asked my opinion, that’s all.”

He relaxes, and gazes down at our joined hands. Mine looks small against his, and I automatically twine our fingers. It’s the first time we’ve held hands…or touched voluntarily. No, I think back, we touched when he was teaching me to swim, but every other time he’s acted as if I am a wild animal meant to be skirted around but never approached. Yet he’s not taking his hand from mine right now. That’s a good thing, I think.

“In case I don’t seem appreciative,” I say softly, stroking my thumb over the back of his hand. “I am humbled that you have done so much for me. It makes me happier than you can possibly imagine.”

He gazes down at our hands and nods once, then pulls his hand from my grip. “I will return when we arrive. Eat your food and drink your tea.”

I’m left alone for a few hours, and make myself a strong cup of willow bark tea with the rest of my fresh water and a large chunk of the bark that I swirl in the cup with my finger to steep it. Tastes awful, but my cramps disappear like magic and I’m able to enjoy the day. The landscape is changing, the distant land coming closer. We’ve been following the shoreline from a distance far too great for me to swim, but now we’re approaching.

It’s not the most comforting shoreline. The gentle sands are gone, replaced by bleak gray cliffs with jagged rocks at the base. Nasty-looking waves crash against the tumble of boulders at the edge of the water, and I shudder to think of anyone swimming in that. I’ve heard from travelers that the shore gets more and more forbidding the closer one gets to the great city of Aventine, so we must be close.

That makes me nervous. Aventine is, among other things, a slave hub. Is Ranan taking me there after all? It’s the ideal place to ditch an unwanted wife, no questions asked. He said he wouldn’t…and yet he hasn’t kissed me, either. Hasn’t shown me any sort of husbandly interest.

And yet…he showered me with gifts.

He is a confusing man.

My belly clenches with nervousness as I work on cutting the serviceable fabric he gave me into a dress. I have no needle to sew it together, but I cut the edge into small tabs, and then I knot the tabs together, and it’s almost as good as sewing. I’m able to make myself a sheath dress with no sleeves, and I slip it over my head just as Ranan approaches.

The sea-ogre immediately frowns at me, eyeing my dress. “What is that?”

“Does it look bad? I made it just now.”

He shakes his head, his mouth thin with disapproval. “You should not be doing anything of the sort. You should be resting.”

“I can still help out. If you give me fish, I can clean them for you. Or dry them. Whatever you need.”

“I need you to rest.” Ranan’s hands go to his slim hips. “It doesn’t matter now. We are at my grotto. Do you think you can swim a short distance?”

I’m surprised he asks. “Even if I’m bleeding?”

“It is a short distance, and we are out of the deepest waters. I will hold your hand the entire time. You do not need to be afraid.” He holds a hand out to me, a silent invitation.

I get to my feet, uncertain. I haven’t seen anything that looks like a cave amidst the craggy rocks of the shoreline, and I’ve been looking hard. Even now, we’re still farther from the shore than I’d like. While the rocks are close and the crashing waves near enough that they fan a light mist over my hair, we’re still far enough out that the waters are deep enough for Akara to swim in. If Ranan lets go of my hand, I have no doubt that I will drown.

Yet dying in the sea sounds better than being returned to slavery. If he steers me towards Aventine, I suppose I can always jump into the waters or let go of his hand. With a bright smile, I push my hand into his outstretched one. “Let’s do it.”

He leads me to the rounded edge of Akara’s shell, and the choppy waters bounce and splash against the turtle’s side. “I will return for your things. For now, I want to get you situated somewhere safe. Follow my lead, and when I say hold your breath, do so.”

I eye the tall, sheer cliffs close by and nod nervously.

We jump into the water together. For all that the seas are rough, they’re warm. I surface with a sputter, and Ranan’s hands immediately go to my waist. “You’re still wearing your dress.”

“It’ll dry. It’s fine. Let’s just go.” I’m anxious to get this over with.

He nods and then takes my hand in his. I lock both of mine onto his one as he pulls me forward, his strong three free arms cutting through the water with ease. He tugs me along at his side, speeding us through the choppy waves. I expect him to head for the rock-strewn shore, but he heads for the sheer cliffs instead. I can see nothing that looks like a cave—just sheer rock—when he turns to me. “Hold your breath.”

I suck in a deep breath, my cheeks puffing.

Ranan dives, looking for all the world like a sleek fish darting beneath the waves. I can marvel at this for but a brief moment before I’m yanked under with him, the water blasting my face. I hold my breath, my eyes squeezed shut in the darkness, and try not to panic. My lungs burn after a few moments and I hold his hand tighter, dread slipping into my veins despite my best efforts. I’m going to die. I’m going to drown holding onto his hand because he doesn’t realize that humans can’t hold their breath as long as he can. I’m going to⁠—

His hand tugs me upward, hard, and then my head breaks the surface. I gasp, drawing in deep lungfuls of breath as I push streaming wet hair out of my face.

The grotto.

Oh. It’s lovely.

I stare around me in wonder. Sunlight streams into the water from a hole in the rock high above my head. The grotto is a cave all right, and it seems the only entrance—other than the hole far above—is to swim in through the pool I currently float in, feebly clutching at Ranan’s hand. There’s a lip that leads to the cave floor, and the cave floor itself is littered with stolen goods. I see statues of all shapes and sizes, bolts of cloth, chests of jewelry, ornate pottery jugs, and more of the strange bags that Ranan is so fond of.

It’s an absolute clutter of treasure, and everywhere I look, there’s something appealing to the eye. “By all the gods, Ranan. This is yours?”

He pulls me forward in the water, to the shallowest part of the pool, and my feet touch the floor underneath. “Aye,” he says. “Sometimes I have more, but I trade things and bring some back to my flotilla.”

I sit on the edge of the pool, my mouth hanging open as I spot a statue of the goddess Tadekha covered in gold necklaces, a staff with a large gemstone held in her hands. Even at Lady Dywan’s house, there were never such riches. “What do you do with all of this?”

He shrugs, hauling himself up to sit next to me. “Don’t know. Sometimes I just take it even if it doesn’t have a use. I figure someone will want it at some point, and better in my hands than theirs.” His gaze watches me closely. “Do you like it?”

I laugh with delight. Everywhere I look, there’s a glitter of gold. I think I even see a jewel-encrusted chamber pot perched atop what looks like a Yshremi woven rug. Like it? I feel as if I’ve stepped into a wonderland. “It’s absurd,” I tell him, and when he frowns, I add, “Absurd in the best of ways. There is so much here, Ranan! How long have you been stealing for?”

He shrugs. “I have little else to do with my time. It seems a good use of my strength and Akara’s size.”