by Jae Waller
I held his gaze. Unlike Tiernan, it felt like he actually saw me. Suddenly I was tired of thinking. Of trying to see all the things that lay below the surface.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked.
“Nei. I don’t even want to think about it.”
“As you wish.” He gave a slight bow. “I am glad you came. I was worried when I did not hear from you for so long.”
I looked down at the woven rug. “I didn’t think you wanted to.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
“You just . . . left. In the morning. Without waking me or anything.”
His eyes crinkled with a frown. “I thought my letter made my feelings clear.”
I remembered the sentence I hadn’t understood and wished I’d taken the paper with me. Iannah could’ve read it. Not that I wanted her to know whatever it said.
He settled into a chair near the fireplace. “I am sorry for leaving, Kateiko. Council business begins early. Given the choice between you and a building full of bickering old men, I would much prefer to be with you.”
“Are you busy now?”
“Not in the slightest.” He placed a ribbon in his book and shut the cover. “Please, stay. Your company would make a welcome respite from this drudgery.”
I perched on the edge of the couch, glad I was clean this time. “What are you reading?”
“A treatise on immigration law. It can wait one more day.”
The candles burned low as we talked, but I felt more awake than ever. Parr seemed amused when I asked if it was okay to take off my boots. I curled up in a corner of the couch, rubbing my bare feet over the textured brocade. There was so much in that room I wanted to explore.
When I admitted I hadn’t read much beyond folk tales, he read me Ferish poetry from a leather-bound book. His accent flowed like music. My thoughts began to settle, not quieting, just falling into order like tracks in the soil. One after the other, moving forward instead of in circles.
“There’s something else I wanted to ask,” I said when he rose to relight a candle. I drifted after him to the hearth. “Why did you . . . turn me down last time?”
“Oh, my darling.” The flame trembled as it caught on the wick. “You were too exhausted to know what you were doing. I could not let you do something you’d regret.”
“That’s all? Not because you think I’m — weird, or unattractive, or — or a freak—”
“Is that what you thought?” He set the candle down. “I apologize for offending you. That was far from my intent.”
“It’s what everyone else thinks.”
Parr gave me a long, searching look. “Then they do not see what I see.”
Warmth rippled across my skin. I moved closer and slid my palms up his chest. The spice of his cologne wreathed around me. “I don’t regret it.”
“Kateiko, Kateiko.” He held my shoulders. “It is late. Perhaps we should let things rest for tonight.”
“Do you want me to leave?” I brushed my lips against his cheek.
He drew a deep breath. “That is not what I said.”
“Then let me stay.” I tugged the ribbon free from my braid and ran my fingers through the plaits. “Trust me, Antoch. This is what I want.”
Parr closed his eyes for just a moment, his jaw clenched — then he kissed me. He wrapped one arm around my waist, pushed me against the hearth, and knotted his other hand into my hair. A shock went from my scalp down my spine, setting my nerves on fire.
“Wait—” My breath hitched. Hafelús’s mark burned on my throat. Parr tensed when I lifted his waistcoat hem, but he let me take his slender knife. I’d never seen it outside the sheath before. The blade was curved, the polished wood handle set with bronze. I unbuckled my belt and tossed our weapons out of reach.
Parr made no move to stop me as I fumbled open the silver buttons on his waistcoat and shirt. He only intervened to undo the ones I didn’t see on his cuffs. I pushed his clothes back and let them fall to the floor. He was still as I ran my fingers over the muscles on his arms, his broad shoulders, the dark hair on his chest. He was far from pale, but my tanned skin still stood out against him. It was strange to think his scars might be as old as me.
“May I—” he said haltingly. His hand went to my back. I nodded.
He turned me around and draped my hair over my shoulder. His hands shook as he undid the lacing and tugged my bodice over my head. He traced the line of my ear up, then seized me by the hips and pulled me against him, kissing my exposed neck. “Kateiko,” he murmured. “Are you sure?”
I tipped my head back onto his shoulder. “Yes. Yes. Keep going.”
Parr cupped my breasts through my thin dress. I arched my back and he made a low sound deep in his throat. He slid my dress off, the fabric pooling around my ankles. I hugged my ribs as he turned me back to face him. I’d been nearly naked in front of Fendul and Airedain when we went swimming, but that was different. Rin women always swam topless.
His fingers passed over my bruises and hovered above my kinaru tattoo. Panic blossomed inside me. As far as he knew I was Iyo. Now he had proof I’d lied the whole time I knew him. A councillor would recognize it as a jouyen crest, not mistake it for allegiance to Suriel like the newspaper had.
He said nothing. Maybe he’d figured it out months ago. His hand moved to the antayul tattoo that fanned across my chest, skirting the black lines, tracing my collarbone with rough fingertips. Wrapped up in all those marks was everything I had to hide — who I was, where I came from, how I grew up, and what I sacrificed to live here. I felt lighter, floating on his acceptance.
Parr’s rings glittered with firelight. I wanted to ask if they meant something like my tattoos did, but my attention went elsewhere as soon as he kissed me again. Every part of me felt alive. Awake. I dug my nails into his back and felt his muscles tense.
“It’s been so long.” His voice was strained. “Beautiful girl. How am I so blessed to have you?”
A smile tugged at my lips. “No one’s ever said that about me.”
“Then I will say it again and again.”
I kissed him hard. Suddenly I wanted all of him. I slid my hand between his legs and he gave a sharp gasp.
“Kateiko.” He pulled away. “I have to ask. Is this your first time?”
“Yes — sort of.” A flush spread across my body. Leifar the goatherd and I had messed around in the Vunfjel pastures every summer starting when I was fifteen, but he’d refused to go all the way unless we married. “Is that okay?”
“It is up to you.”
“I want you, Antoch.” I pressed close to him. “I know how to . . . protect myself. I’ll go to the herbalist in the morning.”
“Be sure you do. I could never forgive myself if I . . .” Parr took a shuddering breath.
“I will. I promise.”
“Here. Lie down.” He eased me onto the couch and unlaced his breeches. I stretched out my legs as he pulled off my underclothes. He climbed on top of me, settling his weight onto my body.
I reached out with my mind and doused the candles. In the dim moonlight, something else nudged at the edge of my awareness. I felt all the water nearby, in the air and wood and dirt outside, but there was something new. I sensed the blood coursing through my body, through his body, pulsing in our veins.
“I do not want to hurt you, Kateiko.”
“I’ll be fine.” I sought out his mouth with mine and weaved my fingers into his long hair. “Please, Antoch.”
He pushed into me. I cried out — not a word, not part of any language that separated us — just raw sound that matched his low moan.
•
I woke to Parr disentangling himself from me. I opened my eyes and saw him silhouetted in the soft blue light of dawn. My arms tingled with numbness, but I pulled his warm body back onto mine. �
�Not yet,” I mumbled.
He brushed my hair out of my face and gave me a deep, lingering kiss. “I have to go, my darling.”
I wrapped my legs around him. “Nei. You have to stay here with me.”
His chest shook with silent laughter. He pressed his lips to the corner of my jawbone just under my ear. I gave a muffled giggle.
Cool air washed over my skin when he finally pulled away. “I am sorry, Kateiko.”
The room was a haze of dark shapes that folded in on one another. My eyelids fell and rose like a slow tide as I watched Parr cross to the window and stretch his arms over his head. His outline blurred into trees across the courtyard. A wren trilled outside.
When I woke again, Parr was nudging my shoulder. The room had brightened, and he was fully dressed. “I have to leave for the Colonnium now,” he said.
I blinked away the weight of sleep. “When can I see you again?”
“Any night you want.” He traced his fingers down my arm. “You are even more beautiful in daylight, darling girl. You have no idea how hard it is to leave you.”
I pulled him down into one last kiss. He was smiling when I let go.
“Remember your promise,” he said.
The first thing I did in Caladheå was visit the Iyo herbalist, a terse woman who didn’t ask questions. I tried not to think that it should’ve been Marijka who I went to. I headed up the shoreline to an empty stretch of beach before opening the cottonspun bag of dark green tablets made from dried leaves. I choked one down and drank water from my cupped hands until the taste of decaying moss was gone.
Five years before, Isu caught me kissing a Rin canoe carver’s apprentice in the huckleberry bushes at Aeti Ginu. I’d listened in mortified silence that night as she explained how to use bloodweed. It was poisonous, but would induce my bloodflow early and protect me. It turned out not to matter then — I fought with the boy over something stupid — and I never got far enough with Leifar to need it, but in Caladheå five summers later I was grateful for Isu’s lesson.
The morning was cloudy and warm, so I wandered west collecting seashells. I was sore between the legs, but I’d dealt with worse. The throb of the ocean distracted me. I walked along driftwood with my arms spread wide and hummed to myself.
My stomach began to turn inside out when I was halfway back to the city. I ignored it as long as possible, but the pain pulled me toward the earth until my spine bent and cold sweat ran down my neck. I finally lay on the rocky beach, the tide lapping at my boots. I had no idea how much time had passed when I heard Iannah’s voice.
“Hey, Koehl.”
I tilted my head to look at her. Sword. No spear. “Shit. I forgot it’s your day off.”
“Airedain said his cousin saw you in town. I’ve been looking for you all day. You need a postal box.”
“A what?” I sat up and groaned as the world spun.
She peered at me. “Are you hungover?”
I rubbed sweat off my forehead. “Nei. I just — feel weird.”
Iannah crouched, held two fingers to my neck, then rolled up my sleeves. A bright rash speckled the inside of my elbows. “Oh. Bloodweed. You slept with someone.” She sat back on the rocks. “Who? Airedain?”
“I haven’t seen him in weeks! Why does everyone think I’m sleeping with him?”
“Who was it then?”
I glared at her. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Antoch Parr.”
“Bloody hell.” Iannah stood up and turned away, then twisted back with a look of disgust. “You had sex with Parr? How’d he convince you to do that?”
“He didn’t have to. I wanted to.”
“Why? What’s wrong with people your own age?”
I threw a rock at her. “Did it occur to you I might actually like him? Parr’s a good man. He listens to me, and he’s nice to me.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s nice to everyone. That’s how he got elected to the Council.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“Koehl, this won’t go anywhere.” Iannah ran a hand over her hair, stopping on her bun. “People would throw a fit if a councillor courted an eighteen-year-old viirelei. He can’t marry you. He can’t even go out in public with you.”
“I know, Ia.” I put my head in my hands. “I don’t expect anything. It just — happened.”
“See. I knew you’d get distracted. One night with a man and you forget what day it is. You’ve been gone three weeks and didn’t think to tell me you were alive.”
“Look, I’m sorry.” I got to my feet, pitched forward, and grabbed her arm. “Everything went wrong with Suriel. I just lost track—”
She yanked out of my grip. “No. You always do this. Latch onto men because you can’t figure out your own damned life.”
“That’s not true!”
“You left Caladheå to go back to Tiernan. Then he got married and Airedain turned you into a deadbeat alcoholic. Did he reject you, too? Is Parr just the first one who said yes?”
“Shut up! Like you’ve got it all figured out! I know you’re miserable. You hate every day you’re at the Colonnium. You’re just too scared to leave!”
“We can’t all be homeless drunks.” Iannah spat on the ground. “You know what happens if I get caught taking bloodweed? I get kicked out of the military. But I gave that up to do something with my life. I made a commitment.”
I laughed. “Ai, you’re accusing me of letting men control my life? At least I decide where I sleep and who I fuck.”
She punched me.
I crumpled to the ground. Pain shot through my stomach and I retched. I dragged myself back to my feet, holding a hand to my cheek.
“Don’t try. I can knock you down even when you don’t have bloodweed poisoning.” She lifted her chin. “And don’t throw up. You’ll have to take another one. God knows you’ll need the rest if you sleep with everyone who’s nice to you.”
I gave her my best two-hand salute. “Fuck you.”
30.
TRUST
It felt like all of Caladheå was watching me.
People’s glances caught on my uncovered, unbraided hair. I stared back, daring them to speak. Part of me wanted to yell out right there. Yeah, I was with Councillor Parr. Yeah, a filthy wood witch fucked one of the people running your province. If I was going to stand out, it may as well be for something I’d done, but it wasn’t only my reputation at stake.
I gave an Iyo baker three pann for my flatbread, took two steps down the lane toward Segowa’s embroidery stall, and turned around. Airedain would ask why I wasn’t with Iannah. I ignored a prickle of guilt as I left Caladheå. At least Jonalin had told him I was alive.
Anwea had wandered away from the cliffs. I followed her hoofprints inland and found her in an overgrown pasture with a collapsed fence. The sun had come out and she was resting in the shade of a broad alder. She ignored both my apology and a lump of sugar. I picked burrs from her tail and lay in the grass to wait out the bloodweed poisoning.
As sunshine warmed my face, I daydreamed about what life could be like with Parr. Long discussions about Council decisions, going home to someone other than a sulking horse, waking up in that beautiful manor. My lips twitched into a smile, remembering the weight of his body. He wouldn’t have much time for me, but maybe I could help at the Colonnium. Maybe we could fix things. Change some of the stupid laws.
I knew it was delusional. The rest of the Council barely listened to Parr, and Iannah was right. He’d probably get thrown out just for courting a viirelei, let alone one twenty years his junior. I stabbed my throwing dagger Nurivel into the dirt, rolled over, and put my face in the grass.
A flock of crows passed over, their caws piercing the quiet fabric of afternoon. “Shut up,” I muttered. “Aeldu curse it, you’re worse than seagulls.” Anwea pawed at the ground, but it wasn’t unti
l she snorted and stamped her foot that I looked up.
A crow perched on a fencepost, staring at me. I scowled back. “Go away. It’s bad enough having a horse judge me.” I closed my eyes and tried to return to my daydream. I heard a rush of wings and figured the crow had left.
Then I heard a caw. My head snapped up. The crow had come several fenceposts closer.
“Fuck off!” I whipped Nurivel at the post. The knifepoint sank quivering into the wood. The crow launched into the air in a blur of black feathers.
Anwea skittered away. I heaved myself off the ground and was halfway to her when my eyes widened. “Nei. That’s not—” I whirled.
Fendul stood by the fence holding Nurivel.
Even though nearly a year had passed, he looked the same as always. His soot-coloured hair was short, the tattooed lines on his arm unfinished. Still unmarried, still okoreni. All of a sudden everything I was holding deep inside spilled over. I burst into tears.
“Kako.” Fendul strode forward and pulled me into his arms. “Kako, it’s all right.”
“Mudskull! Why did you—”
He touched the cropped strands over my forehead, the first time ever. “You cut your hair. I wasn’t sure it was you. Not until you threw a knife at me.”
I clung to his narrow ribs, my laughter muffled by his shoulder. “Sorry, Fen. You know I wasn’t trying to hit you.”
“I know.” He slid Nurivel into the sheath at my back.
Everything about him was familiar. The timbre of his voice, the graceful curve of his crow amulet, the way my skin blended perfectly with his. It was like being back at our favourite swimming hole where I knew every current and fallen log and sharp rock.
I drew back. “What in Aeldu-yan are you doing here?”
Fendul wiped my eyes. “We’re all here. The whole Rin-jouyen is camped near Toel Ginu.”
“Wait, what? How did — why?”
“We’ve been trying to persuade Behadul to rebuild ties with the Iyo since you left last year. After the spring equinox, the Okoreni-Iyo came to Aeti Ginu and invited us south. He said you helped them when their shrine burned down. I suppose you changed their minds about the Rin.”
