It was hard to parse through the emotions that seeing Austine’s smug smile stirred within Damon. He was so sick of fighting his oldest friend, sick to the point of hating Austine and blaming him for it. He was also… remarkably glad to see him doing well. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to oblige his game.
“I can’t say I know what you’re talking about,” said Damon. “Ria and I are here visiting some of her extended family.”
“She’s an orphan, just like you,” said Austine. “She has no extended family. Not that I would have believed your lie even if you’d been able to name names.”
“Why else would we be here?” asked Damon, bringing a finger to rub against his chin.
“The Athlatak has made impressive progress in unifying the Rem clans,” said Austine. “It’s clear that he could well be more than he seems. One of the Forsaken, even. Malice or Craven.”
Damon didn’t say anything. He was curious if Austine knew more than he did, and the best way to find out seemed to be to simply let him talk.
“Avarice is just as curious as Wrath, so much so that he sent me,” said Austine. “I don’t enjoy being here, just so you know. The Athlatak and his mother would likely have me executed if they knew the truth about me.”
Austine’s hand shifted to touch his crest, still covered by the gaudy, high-necked cloak he wore.
“You should just go home, then,” said Damon. “There’s no reason to take such a risk for so little payoff.”
“I was considering doing just that, until you arrived,” said Austine. “This makes everything so much more interesting.”
He gestured for the liquor bottle, and Damon slid it across the table to him. Damon actually agreed with his take on the situation. Austine’s presence posed an opportunity, though whether it would manifest as cooperation or competition was anyone’s guess.
With their rivalry, who knew?
“Well, I wish you the best of luck,” said Damon. “I could give you a hint, if you wanted, to help you get started.”
Ria, who’d been content with silence for their conversation, slid closer to Damon and put her arm around his waist. Austine turned his gaze upward in an awkward attempt to act as though he wasn’t witnessing a prelude to their intimacy.
“Sure,” said Austine. “I’ll take a hint.”
“The price is five gold,” said Damon. “I never said it came freely.”
Austine let out a chuckle. “Nice try. I’ll manage on my own, in that case. Goodnight, Damon.”
He stood up and left without another word. Ria’s hand shifted upward to gently stroke the side of Damon’s face.
“You may have to fight him again, husband,” she whispered.
“This time, I think it can be avoided. I hope it can be avoided.”
“You should ready yourself for the possibility that it cannot.”
***
Damon wore the amethyst dreamspell amulet to sleep again, though he was careful to manage his expectations. Ria had a point. Malon’s lack of contact through his dreams may have well been as much due to the complications of their relationship as any potential for danger at the inn.
He did dream, however, though in the murky, confusing way he was more used to in natural sleep. He walked with Malon through the Malagantyan, the familiar forest of his youth. The sun was out, the birds were chirping, and the air smelt of the late season’s ash and crimmor trees.
“Solas,” she whispered. “This way.”
She gestured deeper into the trees, letting go of his hand to run ahead of him. He followed as quickly as he could. Not quickly enough.
“Aesta,” he called.
He looked around, searching in all directions, but there was no sign of her.
“Where did you go…?”
His voice came out as a whisper, in a higher pitch than he’d expected. He looked down and saw a child’s hands and body. The forest was suddenly dark, and threatening noises loomed in the shadows. A child’s body, and a child’s fears.
He awoke dripping with sweat. Ria stirred next to him, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. Over the course of several long minutes, Damon caught his breath and dismissed the dream.
CHAPTER 21
Damon sat at the common room table the next morning, taking small bites of a pastry stuffed with mint-flavored sweet cream. The sun was out, and they’d opened one of the sliding windows to let the cool morning air refresh their flaqayai.
“I may need your help with investigating some of the leads Wrath provided me with last night,” he said to Ria, who sat next to him.
“I will do what I can.” She paused to take a sip of warm tea from a steaming mug. “I am not yet of certainty if the Athlatak will call on me again today. We are his guests, but he commands this entire city.”
“I think Ayisa does more of the commanding than he does,” muttered Damon. “Regardless, it’s not as though a direct audience with him is what we need. Wrath said there would be clues within the palace, or around other locations the Athlatak frequents. What I need is information on his activities.”
Ria considered his words, nodding slowly. “I will see what I can do. It is not a simple feat for me to ingratiate myself with the people who will have these answers, however.”
“Why not? You’re the Queen of Storms. Would it be so out of place for you to take an interest in the events of the city?”
“Perhaps not, but it is misguided to think of me simply as the Queen of Storms.” She exhaled through her nose and set her teacup down. “I am just as much clanless and just as much unmarried as I am renowned as a warrior.”
“That can’t matter that much, can it?” he said.
“You are unfamiliar with Rem culture. Think back to Joyell, how he approached wooing me as a suitor.”
Damon remembered the young Remenai from Ria’s mother’s clan who’d stalked and eventually kidnapped her in pursuit of winning her heart. “I assumed that he was unstable in the mind. Surely, that can’t be the standard of Remenai courting?”
“Not the standard, exactly, but his… enthusiasm is a trait considered acceptable, even honorable, among my people. There will no doubt be many, many men seeking my approval across the next few days.”
Her words affected Damon far more than he liked to admit. He wasn’t a jealous man, but the way she described her circumstances made him imagine a veritable crowd of suitors attempting to win her attention. It wasn’t as though he, as a Merinian, could simply pull his sword out and fend them off.
“Are you worried, husband?” she asked plainly.
“No!” he snapped. “I mean… should I be?”
“Of course not! Though, depending on how much of an imposition my current unmarried state ends up being… it seems we should at least consider a, ah, solution to it.”
She folded her arms, looking suddenly awkward and uncomfortable in her own skin. Damon wasn’t dense, and it wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered the idea before. He’d drawn the matridai on her face in charcoal, no less, which gave him a thought.
“Could we simply do what we did with Joyell?” asked Damon. “Put temporary matridai on you to scare them all off?”
“It would be counterproductive here in Yvvestrosai. No doubt, some of the men seeking my favor would be emboldened by knowing I was so near to being permanently pledged to another.”
She gave him an impatient, knowing look. Damon considered how Malon and Vel would react if he and Ria arrived back at the inn, freshly married in the eyes of the Remenai world god, Jad.
“Let’s get a sense of the situation today and then go from there,” he said carefully.
Ria nodded, but he could all but smell her obvious annoyance. “Well, I suppose if you are comfortable taking that risk…”
“Risk? What risk?”
“I simply mean that with so many men attempting to steal my heart, it is bold of you to place so much trust in me to guard myself.”
“You…” Damon shook his head as h
e noticed the suppressed smile on her lips. “How much of this are you playing up just to tease me?”
“Whatever do you mean by that? I speak the whole, honest truth.”
She had to hide her face behind her arm to cover her laughter. Damon playfully lunged at her, trying to wrestle her underneath him. She flipped him onto his back, laughing and grinning from ear to ear.
“Perhaps I exaggerate slightly,” she said. “But you must think about what the future will hold, Damon. Husband. For yourself, and for me, and for Malon and Vel.”
“Is it all on my shoulders to do this thinking?”
She still had him pinned, and she gave him a new kind of smile, gentle, almost pitying. “I already did my share of it when I first let you mark my face with charcoal.”
She was on her feet in the next instant, finishing her tea and heading for the door. Damon stayed where he was, enjoying the view of her butt in her tight leggings, with the hem of her spiral tunic flitting about like a short skirt.
“I should make an attempt at getting to know some of the Athlatak’s other favored courtiers,” said Ria. “It is best if… I proceed with this on my own.”
“I’d stand out too much, in other words.”
Ria nodded, but didn’t seem entirely comfortable with the fact, either. “It will be hard enough for me, as it is. But it does pose a chance for me to seek the type of information that might lead to the Athlatak’s true identity.”
“Be careful,” said Damon.
“You as well. Mind yourself if you travel out of the flaqayai.”
He nodded and watched her head out the door and into the trees. Damon took his time getting ready after that. He lingered in deciding whether it made sense to continue wearing a cloak in an attempt to hide his hair and ears before deciding it was pointless. The Remenai had seen through the disguise last time, and it wasn’t as though he wouldn’t still draw attention, regardless.
He wore his myrblade after going back and forth on how it might be perceived for several minutes. Neither Ria nor Ayisa had mentioned whether weapons were allowed to be worn openly in Yvvestrosai. He hadn’t seen many outside of those on the Water Palace’s guards, but only a fool would take any measure of security from that.
He put his sword belt on, in the end, but kept his hands away from the weapon’s hilt as he took the first steps out of the flaqayai and into the city. He had no defined objective, or even true sense of direction, given how dark the area had been when he’d first passed through it the night before.
In truth, all he wanted, all he expected, was to get a better sense of the city and its people. It was a humble goal, one that he mostly set about achieving by traveling in a slowly widening circle around his lodgings.
The amount of attention he drew as a Merinian, made him wonder if he’d ever truly understood why Ria had mostly avoided the major cities of Veridan’s Curve. It felt almost like a physical weight, an aura that drew the eyes of men, women and children while simultaneously discouraging them from drawing within ten feet of him.
Beyond that, he was still able to get a sense of the Rem as people. They were expressive and comfortable, serious and reserved. They spanned the full range of emotions and activities, from children chasing each other and wrestling in their games, to old women sitting side by side on tree swings and quietly gossiping as they swayed back and forth.
There was an entire world of experience within Yvvestrosai that left him in a state of profoundly respectful awe. It left him worrying, in truth, that Ria might not leave the city with him when it was time. Her words about marriage echoed in his head, forcing him to consider her questions against his tumultuous expectations for the future.
He realized that he’d gotten turned around while caught up in his own thoughts. He came to a stop on the trail on which he was walking, taking a moment to appreciate the flowers and foliage around him. A voice came from directly to his left, followed by a whistle that set the hairs on his neck standing on edge.
An old woman was cooking flat cakes over a fire and was glaring and holding one out to him. The glare was more of a prompt than a true expression of offense, the type of look Malon might give him when he was negligent with a chore.
He hesitantly walked over, reached out, and accepted the flat cake from her. It was sweet, with a subtle maple flavor that left him wanting a second bite. The woman looked at him thoughtfully, and then spoke.
“Is… good?” she asked, in choppy Merinian.
“Very good,” he replied.
He started laughing as he crammed the rest of the cake into his mouth.
CHAPTER 22
Damon didn’t accomplish much with his morning stroll, but hadn’t expected to. He returned to the flaqayai to wait for Ria only to discover that she’d already arrived back.
“Ah,” she said. “There you are. I spoke with Ayisa again.”
“Did she provide you with any new insights?”
“In a manner of speaking. There will be an asala-sala tonight. We are expected to attend.”
“What is an asala-sala?” asked Damon.
“A feast, of sorts,” said Ria. “It is not quite formal, but there are some informal rules which we must abide by to attend respectfully.”
“It’s going to be held at the palace?” He folded his arms, already anticipating a chance to start investigating some of what Wrath had mentioned.
“Yes, but it’s more than a simple gathering. There are customs to uphold. We will need to find you a mask.”
“A mask. Like the Turning Festival in Avaricia?”
Ria smirked at him. “Yes, though hopefully with less lingering confusion for you in the days after.”
They left the flaqayai and headed through the city. If Damon had thought he stood out before, walking alone, the attention was easily doubled by being together in public with Ria.
It was different from the way people had looked at him, staring and occasionally pointing. They treated Ria with a respect that bordered on reverence. A few people came forward, bowing to her as she passed by. Groups of people would whisper and move out of the way for her. Children would run up and pull at the hem of her tunic until she smiled and waved or patted their heads.
And the men. Again, Damon reflected on how he was not the jealous type, but if he had been, he would have lost his mind. He saw a range of Remenai men leering at her with hungry eyes, ranging from teenagers younger and shorter than he was, to old silver-haired veterans with battle scars.
She was clanless, unmarried, widely renowned, and most importantly, beautiful. He didn’t blame her for the effect she had on other men. He did walk a little closer to her, touch her a little more familiarly, one arm lingering around her hip as they walked side by side.
“Easy,” whispered Ria. “Some of the rumors circulating through the city have already spoken of your closeness to me as my brother.”
“If anyone asks, just tell them that Merinians are more intimate among family.”
She let out a snort. “That explains so very much, does it not? Oh, young Damon. You are too much.”
“Now and always.” He slid his hand a bit lower, groping her ass and flashing a teasing smile.
Ria came to a stop outside a building with a sign in the shape of a half-moon over a doorway filled with beaded curtains. She took Damon’s hand as she dipped her head forward to pass through the beads. He followed, stepping into a cozy Remenai mask store.
There was an artistry to mask-making that he’d never appreciated until that very moment. Dozens of different masks lined the walls, ranging from animal inspired, to monster themed, to a few which were abstract and conceptual.
He tested the tusk of a brown and gray boar mask, marveling at the detail that had gone into its construction. There was a troll mask that looked nearly lifelike, save for the edges and eye holes, and an oak mother mask that had Damon remembering an encounter he’d had with the sensual monster while traveling through the Malagantyan.
“You need one
that suits the nature of your heart,” said Ria. “Strong willed, but impulsive. Savage, but loyal.”
She came behind him as he continued scanning the rows of masks, wrapping her arms around his chest and letting her breasts press into his shoulders. She squeezed him as she passed by a fearsome-looking bear mask.
“I’ve never really seen myself as a bear,” he said.
“No. Not a bear.”
She reached above where he’d been looking, pulling down a fancifully-colored black and red wolf mask. The wolf bore the tips of its teeth in the beginning of a snarl, the type of expression a dog might make to warn away another animal drawing a step too near to its food.
“I like it,” said Damon. “But it looks expensive.”
“I have money,” said Ria. “Ayisa provided me with a small stipend for us to use to enjoy the city.”
Damon frowned at that. “She’s giving you money now?”
“Yes. It would have been impolite for me to refuse, no?”
“I suppose…” he said. “That doesn’t mean it bodes well. It’s a clear sign of her trying to court your favor.”
“I see no issue with that.” Ria took the mask and held it up to Damon’s face, and he watched her through the eyeholes. “Would it not be preferable for us to be on friendly terms with the Athlatak if he does end up allied with Wrath and Famine?”
He didn’t say anything, but not for lack of an answer. Wrath and Famine, Kastet and Lilian. Now the Athlatak and his mother. There was seemingly no end to those who would try to use him and his family.
“How about this mask for you?” said Damon, moving past his uncertainty. He pulled the beautifully carved oak mother down and held it up to Ria’s face.
“I already have one,” said Ria. “Ayisa presented it to me when she gave me the stipend.”
“What’s it of?”
She let out a laugh. “What fun would it be if I told you that?”
“I’ll find out sooner or later, regardless,” he said.
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