Page 41 of Mistress of Bones
What a shock his first view of Cienpuentes had been. He couldn’t comprehend how greed could grip a heart with so much strength. How people could find it in themselves to carve such a gift out of the world, to turn blue peaks into a mass of flat, barren gray. No wonder they treated the gods as curiosities rather than divine beings, why they tied up wishes to the Lady Dream’s legs and expected her to grant them as if they hadn’t stolen her bones—their guilt would be too crushing if they were to admit the truth.
It spoke to the lows they were willing to achieve in order to keep their coin bags full.
Azul del Arroyo had acted docile as a newborn lamb during their trip to Cienpuentes, but like her countrymen and Anchor, he had no doubts she was simply biding her time to strike.
Ambassador Enzare had recommended a man who could act like a shadow, and after meeting this shadow, Enjul still couldn’t decide if he was as astute as the intelligence in his eyes showed, or as carelessas his demeanor implied. This had surprised him, as he prided himself on being an excellent judge of character.
Had he made a mistake by trusting this stranger to shadow Del Arroyo? The fact that he couldn’t himself was meddlesome, but he must conduct his own inquiries on the second malady, and Del Arroyo must be given some appearance of freedom to hang herself with.
Closing his eyes, he brought his hand to his chest and searched deep within himself. When you carried a piece of the Lord Death with you, you needed no statues or temples to aid in your prayers.
A welcoming peace settled over him.
Have I erred in trusting this shadow to follow the malady?
Enjul didn’t often ask his god directly—the god had more important things to do than answer his questions—but there was something about De Gracia’s house that made him fanciful. Perhaps it was the way moonlight played with the shadows, the smell of blossoming Sancian flowers drifting through the open window. Queen’s blooms. Such a delicate, resilient fragrance. They called them jiren avels in Valanje—little moons—for they appeared as white as the two ladies when in full bloom.
Back in the ambassador’s estate, he had learned the details of Azul’s half brother’s wealth and position at court. De Gracia’s home lived up to his expectations. Such a grand building, yet understated. It had been a reprieve to see the marquess’s family hadn’t succumbed to the need to plaster Anchor all over the walls, unlike the ambassador’s residence. It said a lot about Azul del Arroyo’s loyalty to her half sister that she’d rather live in the countryside than among so much wealth.
Loyalty—such a tricky emotion. It was driven by honor, which could be broken by temptation, and love, which could easily fall into obsession. Enjul had no doubt of which side Azul del Arroyo’s loyalty fell. Her zealousness to bring her sister back with no regard to her sister’s or the god’s wishes spoke for itself.
What made someone develop such warped views? Perhaps it was the fact that she had so many half siblings but had only been able to hold on to one. Here was another bizarre Sancian custom—the need to pass one’s blood on to your children. If you desired a childso much, why not welcome one without a family? Perhaps this was how the Blessed Heart manifested among their subjects—the need for creation rather than acceptance.
As a child, he had found it hard to leave his parents to join the Order, and at one point in the following years, he had even gone back to visit them, guided by an instinct that told him he would never fully accept the Lord Death until he had seen them again.
He found them happy and settled, glad Enjul was making a name for himself in the Order. He had nothing but fading memories of their time together and, after that one meeting, no real reason to visit again.
He now had the Lord Death.
A tingling sensation spread from his heart, easing a sort of homesickness he hadn’t realized was there. Sancia was strange and disturbing, a maze he must carefully navigate, but he had the Lord Death’s blessing, and that was enough.
Soft clacking had him open his eyes. Azul del Arroyo pushed the wooden bead curtain aside and entered the room, a small smile playing with her lips as another breeze fluttered the curls escaping from her braid.
Enjul stilled, wondering how long it’d take her to notice him. Something urged him to make some small noise. He craved the sight of her shock, the way her eyes narrowed when she tried to figure out how to outmaneuver him.
Azul let out a sigh as she approached the window. She placed her hands on the windowsill and inhaled deeply, her face sharpening under the moonlight.
Who would’ve thought a malady could contain muchlife? He had wondered if he might not find the other malady by simply walking around and looking for a burst of life, but something told him Azul was unique.
He draped an arm over the back of the settee, impatient now to see her reaction at his presence. She did not disappoint.
She turned with a gasp at the rustling of fabric, then scowled. “I didn’t know you were here,” she said.
“That much is obvious,” he couldn’t help but answer.
Her chin lifted, and she turned toward the entrance of the room. “I’ll leave.”
“Why?”
His question surprised her as much as it surprised him.
“I wouldn’t wish to bother you,” she answered curtly. Then her voice became somewhat amused. “Wouldn’t want to infect you with my rot.”
“I survived the trip here by your side, I think I’ll survive another hour or two,” he answered dryly.
She stiffened at this, her eyes darting from him to the entryway. Did she expect him to want to play cards with her or something like that? He snorted with amusement. “What do you think of your half brother’s house, Miss Del Arroyo?”
Azul’s gaze returned to the view of the patio. “It’s very grand. Beautiful. It…”
