9

“You believe me?” Lyra asked as they walked back to town. “Just like that?”

The first rush of relief that came when he said he would help her had faded, and creeping suspicion was beginning to take its place. She had made a mistake in trusting the grey woman to help her. She couldn’t afford to be so trusting again.

“Are you lying?” Kel asked mildly, not even bothering to glance at her. He had long legs, and now that he had made a decision regarding how trustworthy she was, he didn’t seem to be wasting any time in getting to wherever they were going.

“No.” She had to jog a few steps to catch up; the too-small sandals weren’t helping. “But I know how it sounds. Doesn’t it seem kind of… impossible? That I’m from another world?”

This time, he did glance at her, giving her a sidelong look out of the corner of his eye. “There is very little that is impossible.”

She mulled over that as they walked. If someone told her they were from another world entirely, she would think they were either crazy or high. Even if they appeared out of nowhere right in front of her, she’d probably just think she was crazy or high. That sort of thing just didn’t happen at home. But here? More than one impossible thing had already happened to her and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.

Maybe he had a point. Every second she spent here was a new reminder of just how different this place was from home. She needed to stop taking things for granted — apparently, including the entire concept of impossible.

They retraced their steps, heading back into town and passing by the temple. The tabby cat was grooming herself in the sun outside, but she didn’t see the grey woman anywhere.

Good. She didn’t want to see her.

“Did you say her name was Towr?” she asked Kel, breaking the silence between them once again. He clearly wasn’t chatty, but she was dying to learn more. “She wouldn’t tell me.”

“Yes,” he said, his tone short again.

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“They can’t say their names. Usually, they can’t say anyone’s name.” He glanced at her again. “It’s a bad sign if they can.”

Lyra glanced back at the temple, which was just behind them now, and quickened her pace a little, glad that she was free of it, and dreading going back inside to fetch her things. Or worse… sleeping in the basement chamber again. That it was likely to be her only option didn’t make it any more appealing.

Thinking of the basement chamber reminded her of a much more urgent question. She had been so dehydrated she hadn’t needed one again yet, but…

“Where are the bathrooms?”

“There are outhouses on the back street. Some homes have them built as an extension, but my sister’s does not.”

She wrinkled her nose reflexively. “No indoor plumbing?”

The language she was speaking had the words for it, so surely it existed somewhere in this world. Kel made a sound in the back of his throat that might have been amusement or irritation.

“Fewer than fifty people live in Kyokami. It was built centuries ago, when the westerners crossed the Giant’s Archipelago and began to colonize what is now the Helioclades. Look around, priestess. Where would these people get the metal for pipes? The money to hire an expert in mechanisms to ensure the water flowed without fail? Where would the workers come from, to chip through the hard stone the walls are built of and dig new wells and pits?”

Lyra felt chagrined. She didn’t want Kel to think she was looking down her nose at his village, even though it was hard not to. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet that she wasn’t going to have a hot shower anytime soon, but she was sure that indoor plumbing was going to be one of the things she missed the most.

Come to think of it, Towr’s temple had plumbing, didn’t it? Maybe not toilets and a shower, but that basin of water seemed like it was constantly overflowing, and all of the extra water drained away… somewhere.

She was about to ask about it when she realized they had arrived at the house she had seen Kel walk out of the night before. An old wooden fence marked the edges of the lot, but the gate was open and what looked like paving stones lined the path up to the door. The dull green grass on either side of the path was wilted, but the deep red flowers with spiky leaves that were planted on either side of the heavy wooden door were blooming despite the evident dryness of the season.

The house itself was made from the same pale stone as the rest of the buildings in the village. There were two windows at the front of the house, both only slightly larger than her head and with the glass set deep into the stone. The one on the right was propped open with a stick, letting out a scent that made Lyra’s mouth water. That chunk of bread she had eaten earlier hadn’t exactly filled her up.

“You will not pray in here. Understood, priestess?” Kel asked, pausing at the open gate.

Since it probably wouldn’t even have occurred to Lyra to pray anyway, it was easy to agree. “I wont, I promise.”

She wanted to ask why, but he was already moving up the walkway. When he reached the door, he pulled it open — no squeaky hinges here — and waited for her to go ahead of him. She walked through the door hesitantly, not sure what to expect.

The scent of cooking food and spices she couldn’t name, either because they didn’t exist at home or she was an uncultured heathen who survived mostly off of frozen meals, wrapped around her, making her mouth water. The front door opened directly into the kitchen, where a stone oven was built directly into the wall. A pie was baking on the ledge, and from the smell, it was some sort of meat pie. On the stone countertop next to it, a woman with light brown hair a few shades darker than Kel’s dark blond was kneading dough.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“How bad was it, Gidal?” She called out the question without looking over her shoulder.

The front door shut as Kel entered the house behind Lyra. Feeling very much like an intruder, she slunk a few steps further into the kitchen to give him the space to walk past her. There was a solid wooden table with three matching chairs and one stool under the small window that had been propped open, with some dried flowers in a vase. Even though they were dry, the petals held onto their pale purple hue.

“Brought a guest,” Kel said perfunctorily. “Gidal’s not here?”

The woman turned around. Her eyes widened, and she carefully put the bread dough down on the counter before dusting her hands off on her apron and approaching Lyra. She was pretty, with tanned skin that spoke to a lot of time spent outdoors and just a few lines around her eyes and mouth. Lyra recognized her immediately as the woman who had approached her and seemed interested in her rain jacket when she first arrived yesterday. She thought she was probably in her thirties or maybe even early forties, though considering that they probably didn’t have much in the way of skin-care regimens here, she might have been way off. Unlike Kel, her eyes were brown. Her skirt was a dull yellow color, and the loose shirt she wore behind her apron was embroidered with flowers — the same pale purple ones that were in the vase.

“You found her,” she said, her voice pitched oddly, as if she was talking to a wild animal. “Oh, good job, Kel. I was worried. I told Zarad she looked scared, poor thing. That old woman thinks everything is the end of the world.”

“She can understand us now,” Kel grunted. “She claims that whatever happened was not of her doing. I wish to speak to her more, out of sight of the curious eyes of our neighbors.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “She can understand us? Then why haven’t you introduced us?” She turned to Lyra. “I’m Cora, Kel’s older sister. You’ll have to forgive him, he’s every bit as paranoid as Zarad, that old lady who made the God’s Sign at you yesterday. I told him that you were harmless, scared, and needed help, but of course he didn’t believe me until he got the chance to see for himself.”

She rolled her eyes at her brother. Kel crossed his arms, looking irritated and impatient.

“I’m Lyra,” Lyra said. She held her hand out reflexively, before stopping to think that shaking hands might not be something they did here, but Cora took it in her own, her grip strong and warm. “Thank you for trying to help me yesterday. You’re right, I was terrified. I still am. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out,” Cora promised as she released her. “Whatever happened, I’m sure Kel’s dealt with weirder. It’s very nice to officially meet you, Lyra. You’re welcome in our house, of course, as a priestess, but between you and me, you’d be welcome anyway. Gidal always says I’m a good judge of character, and I like to think that’s one of the few things he’s right about.”

“Where is Gidal?” Kel cut in. “I expected him to be here.”

Cora sighed as she turned back to her bread. “Nira and Tal knocked over one of those beehives Halod keeps. He dragged them both over here. Poor Tal was stung all over, so I asked Nira to take him to his mother. Gidal went to see what he could do about the beehive.”

“Will he be back soon?”

“I don’t know.” She frowned over her shoulder at him. “What do you need him for?”

“I was hesitant about bringing her here. I would feel better with him here too, in case something goes wrong.”

“You’re being rude, Kel. What’s she going to do? Throw one of her sandals at us? She doesn’t have a patron god; you can see the color of her tunic as well as I can. The only temple in the area is Towr’s, and the worst she’s ever done is blind someone until they returned her books. Lyra, why don’t you sit down? Kel, stop hovering. You’re making me nervous. You sit too.”

Lyra pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat, feeling awkward. Kel hesitated for a second, then sat across from her. She spotted his sword leaning against the wall not far away. He would be able to reach it if he leaned back in his chair a little, and she had no doubt that he had taken that seat on purpose.

She was with Cora on this one. What exactly did he expect her to do?

Before any of them could say anything more, the front door slammed open. Lyra jumped, and Kel made an aborted reach for his sword before relaxing when he saw the little girl who raced inside.

“Mama! You’ll never guess what Tal’s mama put on his stings. She put honey on them! Did you know honey was medicine? Can I have some for my sting?” She skidded to a stop when she saw Lyra and her eyes widened dramatically.

“Nira, this is Lyra. Kel’s helping her. Use your manners, please, and introduce yourself. She shakes hands like a Moldaran. Remember learning about them?”

“Yes!” The girl approached her and schooled her expression to something more proper, though her eyes kept darting around to take in every detail of Lyra’s outfit and face as she gave a shallow curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, priestess. I’m Nira.”

She stuck her hand out, and Lyra gave it a gentle shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Nira. I’m Lyra, like your mother said. You can just call me that, not ‘priestess.’“

“Do you remember me?” Nira asked, all formality vanishing now that the introductions were over. “I saw you yesterday. The road was empty, then you were there! Everyone was so surprised, then you ran away when you saw Uncle Kel.”

“I do,” Lyra said. She always felt a little awkward around kids; as the youngest sibling in her own family, she had never been around them much. None of her friends had kids, and she’d never so much as babysat for a neighbor before. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at Nira. “You stole my orange, didn’t you?”

The girl clapped her hands over her mouth and glanced first at her mother then at Kel. “No I didn’t!”

“Nira!” Cora put bread dough down again and turned, her hands on her hips. “Don’t lie. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. Did you take something that fell out of Lyra’s bag yesterday?”

“I didn’t steal it. I just picked it up off the ground. She dropped it. It’s not my fault the bag broke. Then she ran away so it’s not like I could give it back!”

“What did you do with it?” Cora asked. “What was it?”

“A fruit,” Kel supplied. “It’s called an orange for the color of its rind and its juice. Traders bring them to the port at Heliotheopoli sometimes. I’ve had them.”

“Well? What did you do with it, Nira?”

“I ate it,” the girl muttered, looking down as she scuffed her shoe across the floor.

“You ate something that appeared from nowhere, and was clearly touched by a god’s power?” Kel said, his voice slowly rising in anger. “Have you listened to nothing I’ve told you? Do you not understand how dangerous that could have been? What were you thinking, if you were thinking at all?”

“She’s a child, Kelarus,” Cora snapped. “She doesn’t see blood gods and cultists around every corner like you do, and I don’t want her to. She shouldn’t have taken the fruit, and she certainly shouldn’t have eaten it, but can you really say we would have done anything differently at her age?”

“I’m sorry,” Lyra said, well aware that she was the source of the burgeoning argument. She hadn’t meant to get Nira in trouble. “I don’t blame her, she probably hasn’t had one before and they’re delicious. I am curious about what happened to the other orange and the milk I dropped, though.”

“Is that what was in that container?” Cora asked. She still sounded irritated, though her ire was clearly directed toward her brother. “Kel collected the carton and the other fruit. I don’t know what he did with them. He probably examined them for signs of blasphemy and buried them in the holy ground of the cemetery or something equally as ridiculous.”

“They’re in the cupboard,” he said.

“Oh.” Cora sighed. “Look, I understand why you were concerned, Kel, but you can’t shout at her like that. And Nira, you need to figure out a way to make it up to Lyra. If that fruit comes from across the ocean, then it’s very expensive. You should have found a way to give it back to her instead of keeping it for yourself. Lyra?”

“What?” Lyra asked, a little wary. She wasn’t sure if Cora was going to lay down the law with her too. She liked the woman a lot so far, but she clearly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

“Are you hungry? We’ll be eating soon, and you’re welcome to join us for the meal.”

“Oh.” Her eyes darted to the meat pie that was cooking in the stone oven and her mouth watered. “I’d love to join you. Thank you so much.”