Page 51 of Mistress of Bones
He took a step forward, and she took a step backward, until they were around the bend in the corridor.
“Not the first time, but after.” A pause while she couldn’t find anything to say. “No, you never asked. Because you are selfish and were scared of her answer. Scared that there was a chance she would say no, that she didn’t want to become an affront in the eyes of the gods.”
Azul kept ahold of her anger, but it seeped through in her harsh whisper. “Isadora would never think that. She didn’t believe in the gods and—”
“Ah, but you must. Otherwise, why come to Valanje? Was it not because you were curious about the Lord Death, about what you could do? Did it never occur to you that others might not want to blemish their souls under his eyes?”
“I don’t want to go, Azul.”Isadora’s reticence, such a contrast with her usual carefree self, back to haunt her. “Isadora was all that is life,” she told Enjul, hands fisted tightly, nails digging into her palms. “She would never accept death.”
“How are you to know, when you never bothered to ask?”
She gave him a small mocking bow. “You are right. I shall do that next time.” Turning on her heel, she stalked toward her room.
“Miss Del Arroyo.”
She paused, well aware that she had gone too far.
His words betrayed no emotion when they came: “I gave you a day. Tomorrow, you shall do as I say.”
XVIIIAZUL
The huge plaza by the Temple turned into exhibitions of swordsmanship every other week during the summer months. Azul was well versed in these sorts of things from Isadora’s love of everything to do with rapiers and duels and winning. Isadora had loved exhibitions, a staple of each summer she had spent away at the Temple school.
When Enjul told her he, Azul, and Nereida would attend that day’s match, Azul guessed the visit was all about the necromancer search rather than fake duels among schoolgirls. What better opportunity to find a wide congregation of Cienpuentes’s citizens?
Azul put special care into her clothing, as did Nereida, even if they didn’t have much clothing to choose from. Sergado had insisted in opening an account for her at a local seamstress once he had learned there were no trunks full of belongings following their arrival, but Azul hadn’t had the time to visit the shop yet, what with arriving, being denied at the ossuary, and then kicked out of the Temple just to have Enjul commandeer her presence for the exhibition.
As for the Emissary of the Lord Death, Azul was confident he was still unaware of her mousy spy, and thus had no way of knowing she had witnessed his meeting with the woman.
“You didn’t find what you were looking for,” Nereida said, havinginvaded Azul’s bedroom while she finished getting ready. It was the first time they had been alone since breaking their fast the day before.
“The ossuary they show the public is a husk.” Azul spoke with disgust, combing her hair with her fingers. “The real one is somewhere else, or perhaps underneath, and they are not happy to allow visitors. Sergado promised to help me get inside, but he said it will take him some time to obtain access,” she added, not without frustration. “He didn’t say how long, but I worry. The emissary is already pressuring me, and once he’s done with whatever secret questioning he’s doing, I won’t be able to shake him easily. His shadow is already a problem. Is there nobody you know who might help us? With whom you might share your arrival in town?”
Whatever Nereida thought of Azul’s request, or her involving her brother in this quest of theirs, remained hidden behind the slight hauteur that had become Nereida’s permanent expression since arriving to town. Although, if Azul were to guess, for a moment she had looked thoughtful.
With firm hands, she turned Azul around and took ahold of her hair. To Azul’s surprise, she began braiding it.
“Do you no longer want me to raise someone?” Azul asked.
Nereida’s hands tightened, and Azul yelped in pain. “Our deal stays as is. What I do with my time is of no concern of yours.” A few moments of silence while Nereida worked on Azul’s hair. “Your sister, how did she die?”
Azul couldn’t believe she would ask this. “You were there,” she snapped. “You saw how.”
Another sharp tug of her hair, then the feeling of Nereida tying a length of leather at the end of the braid. “The first time. That was her second death, wasn’t it?”
When Azul’s words came, they came slowly. “She caught a fever during a trip. We were on our way back from visiting family friends.”
“How did you manage to hide her death from your mother?”
“We were traveling alone. Isadora was old enough to take charge,so a friend took us to the inn before continuing on her way, and we were waiting for someone from Agunción to come pick us up.”
“How old was your sister?”
Azul smiled in spite of herself, remembering the cheeky teen her sister had been. “Fourteen. Had already spent two years at the Temple school by then.”
“And nobody was the wiser?”
“Why would they be?”
