It had been the worst six days of Nuliyaa’s life. Every roll of the boat brought a similar roil to her belly. Her throat burned. Every muscle protected. She felt as though her body was trying to rid itself of every bit of food she had ever consumed. She was dizzy. Worse, she could smell herself and the odor made her feel worse every time the wind shifted.
Cheeyt and Tseetsaa had no sympathy. Sinchach and Tajak avoided her, which prevented her from at least being able to take her mind off her misery long enough to question Sinchach about his abilities. So she not only felt like what she was spewing into the river, but she wasn’t able to do her part for the business, either.
Only Miyt and Kachaark took the time to check on her through the travel, with Singmij stopping by once. Though Kachaark was careful to stand upwind. Miyt would make sure she drank some water and broth, while Kachaark offered an herb to chew that was supposed to prevent sickness. Neither helped much.
“There’s Aapa Mapri,” Kachaark said, nodding toward the wharf growing larger in the distance.
Getting closer, but so slowly. Nuliyaa hadn’t realized just how slowly the barges moved, even those magically assisted. Something about the way water moved and having to stop for locks and other river management. Going from Aapa Mapri to Tewmisyu would take even longer, and they wouldn’t be able to go ashore to the riverside villages while they traveled through Bakfath.
Aapa Mapri was almost as old as Wumaltsmaas and a third their home city’s size. Here the buildings were wood and stone, rather than the brick and plaster that she was used to seeing, which the stone appearing more gray than the yellow and pink of their bricks. But the wharf here was almost as busy as Wumaltsmaas’s riverside, with other barges and fishing boats crowding against the water’s edge.
Cheeyt started toward their wagon, Kachaark moving to join her. Miyt brought over water for Nuliyaa to wash her mouth and face yet again. “We should stay here longer, to let you become well,” she said.
“We cannot afford that, Miyt.”
“We also cannot afford for you to be too ill to travel at all.”
“I’ll be fine, Miyt.” She would make herself be fine.
Miyt’s lips pressed together. Nuliyaa had to figure out a way to keep her from going to Cheeyt. She would not be the reason they failed. She wouldn’t let Cheeyt be right.
The barger said something to Cheeyt and she replied with a snap to her tone that told Nuliyaa he was being unpleasant. As he had been almost the whole trip. Apparently he hadn’t liked taking a minotaur onboard. It was a good thing Chesfi had behaved and stayed in the wagon. Who knew how he would respond to a malk who looked even less human and had far more of a temper.
“I will be glad to be rid of him,” Chesfi murmured from inside the wagon as Nuliyaa stopped beside it. Nuliyaa hoped the next barger would be more open-minded so Chesfi could roam more. Even Singmij had agreed Chesfi was recovered enough to not be confined to the wagon. They could no longer see her bones so easily and her coat was developing a bit of a shine.
Perhaps she would be less grumpy then.
As he watched the dockworkers lift their wagon off the barge with a crane, Kachaark nodded to Nuliyaa. “Careful. Getting used to land again is as difficult as the boat.”
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Her feet hit the deck and Nuliyaa staggered into Tseetsaa. Her sister grabbed her arm even as Tseetsaa’s face turned away. “You need a bath,” Tseetsaa muttered.
With everyone off the barge and the wagon unloaded, with Chesfi still hidden between their bags and boxes, Cheeyt started walking toward the city center. Miyt touched her eldest daughter’s arm. “Before you go to hire the next boat, we should find a place to rest.”
“Yes, Miyt.” Cheeyt shot a look toward Nuliyaa. Nuliyaa scowled back, but Cheeyt had already looked to Kachaark. She had to assure her sister that she was fine.
“Are you thinking Pigeon’s Perch?” Kachaark asked.
“Yes.” Cheeyt started walking.
“Perhaps I might make a suggestion for accommodations?” Sinchach inserted.
“No, because we can’t afford whatever you have in mind.”
“I doubt the difference will e so significant.”
“I know it will be.”
“Pikuyir,” Tajak said. “We should trust the knowledge of professionals.”
“Ah, yes, of course. Professionals.”
“I am considering pissing in his boots,” Chesfi muttered. Tseetsaa snort-laughed and Nuliyaa had to fight to make her own grin into a frown.
“Not appropriate,” she said instead. Tseetsaa laughed harder and Singmij frowned at them, as though suspicious of the mirth.
The Pigeon’s Perch was several streets off the wharf, standing on a secondary street with shops around it. The building might have been a house once, though a large house. The stone exterior was streaked with moss and the painted trim hadn’t been freshened in a while. But the light was warm and yellow through the windows.
“Seems a cheeful place,” Singmij said.
“One of the better places to stay around here,” Cheeyt replied.
Kachaark rumbled, “Agreed.”
Cheeyt strode through the door and to the counter before Nuliyaa could reach her side. She hurried to her sister, glaring at her. “What are you doing?” Nuliyaa demanded.
“Getting rooms.” Cheeyt’s nose wrinkled. “And finding out where the closest baths are.”
“We can sleep in the common area. You don’t need to coddle us.”
Cheeyt spun to her. A man grumbled as he shoved past them. “Not everything is about you.”
“Then why else would you choose to use so much of our money on rooms?”
Cheeyt’s voice lowered. “Because of our client. It wouldn’t be wise to have our client out in the common area for a night.”
“I—see.” She must feel worse than she was admitting to herself if she hadn’t been able to work that out for herself.
Cheeyt turned and continued her march to the bar. “Two rooms and a space in the stable with supper,” Cheeyt said. She eyed Nuliyaa. “And where is the nearest bathhouse?”
The man squinted at her. “You seem familiar,” he said.
“I’ve stayed here before, with my previous company. I have my own now.”
He grunted. “Pay upfront for new customers.”
“Understood.” Cheeyt dug under her littiichangs for her purse. “Bathhouse?”
“Turn right out the door, five buildings down to the right again.”
Cheeyt started to pass a coin to Nuliyaa, but she stopped her, irritated. “I have my own coin.”
Nuliyaa carried her irritation back to their group. Of course Cheeyt wouldn’t need her help with the rooms, but she had felt so inept since they left home.
“I’m going for a bath,” she announced once they returned to their group outside.
“A bath sounds delightful,” Sinchach sighed.
Tajak lifted his eyebrows, looked around the group, then back at his employer. Sinchach gave another sigh, this one petulant instead of yearning. “Yes, I know,” he muttered.
“Not by yourself, certainly.” Miyt frowned, trying to decide which daughter needed her.
“Miyt, you and Tseetsaa can go with Nuliyaa,” Cheeyt said. “I’ll get everyone arranged here.”
“How will we get our client inside?” Nuliyaa asked.
“Your client can hear you,” Chesfi grumped in a quiet voice. “I can get myself inside.”
“And how will you do that?” Cheeyt asked.
“She can,” Singmij assured them. “Their teeth and claws are not the reason why malks are so popular for security in Nengmek.”
Chesfi’s head popped over the wagon’s rail, then she jumped down between their feet. Her lips lifted off her teeth in a parody of a smile before the air around her seemed to shimmer and she—didn’t quite disappear, but it was like Nuliyaa’s eyes wouldn’t focus on her. She was aware someone was there, just not who or what.
“See? Not a concern.” Singmij motioned Nuliyaa away. “Off with you.”
Nuliyaa found a clean tunic and skirt in her bag, then turned back for the road as Kachaark moved the wagon into the stable yard. Now that the bathhouse was her only priority, she couldn’t wait to get clean.