Page 28 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
It was a low blow, but reminding the man that he held no title beyond that which the king allowed him to use was necessary to put him in his place. Not wanting to give the man a chance to respond, he led Sorcha away, hoping Ailsa would forgive him for calling her a child.
Beside him, Sorcha shuddered. He glanced at her, and she gave him a look with her nose scrunched up. He couldn’t help the laugh that spilled forth. She had perfectly captured how it felt to be stuck talking to Murray.
Thecastlewasfargrander than the grotto, but oh, so harsh. The ubiquitous gray of the stone walls was impressive in its uniformity, yet the sameness reminded her of the moody ocean on a cloudy day. Where was the color? The delightful outcropping of coral that revealed a new nook full of surprises or the kelp that waved to her each morning?
Even the humans that stood outside were dressed the same, albeit in greens and blues woven together.
Inside there were even more people. She was grateful for Arick. He was so tall that if she hadn’t needed his help walking, she could have hidden behind him. Most of the people nodded politely, but that one man was odious. The sneer on his face made her glad she couldn’t understand what he was saying. Arick led her away, his arm tight and rigid under her hand.
“He looks like a blobfish,” she told him. She made sure her voice held laughter so he knew she was teasing. Maybe she could draw him a picture later, if they went back to the sandy beach.
Arick guided her down a long hallway, then through a heavy wooden door to where the floor rose in increments, merging with the wall. Arick walked straight to it and put his foot on the first step. She followed suit, but her foot banged into the riser. He bent to pick her up, but she pushed him away. Although it was nice that he was willing to do so, she wanted to learn how to do human things.
And this odd floor wasn’t about to defeat her.
She ignored Arick’s confused looks as she struggled to lift her foot up to place it on the next step. Pushing him, she motioned upward. He caught on, walking up a few steps before pausing.
She concentrated on how he did it.
Lift one foot, then slide it forward onto the higher part of the floor.
She tried it, and nearly fell over backward. Arick caught her hands and tugged her forward. After a couple of steps, he resumed his position beside her, and they went up in unison. He talked as they went, naming the various things around them, but she was so busy not wanting to fall back down that she didn’t pay much attention.
At the top, he grinned at her, and she couldn’t resist a little hop of joy for her achievement.
Pain shot through her feet, and she collapsed against him.
He steadied her with the most adorable look of concern mingled with confusion. Her cheeks warmed, and she pulled away, shuffling her feet to avoid the daggers again.
She could see he wanted to question her, but what could she say that he would understand? Even if they spoke the same language, she wasn’t sure she could explain this to him. She could barely understand it herself.
After a moment, he gently took her arm again and opened another heavy wooden door. The hallway here was devoid of people, and the quiet was welcoming. They hurried to another door. Arick placed his finger over his mouth and made a shushing sound.
She repeated it, wondering what it was for. He made a face, shrugged, and opened the door.
The sound of voices greeted them, but she could only see Thomas and the cooky sitting on the floor beside a low wall. Arick ducked, and tugged her down with him. With great care, he pulled the door shut quietly. He shuffled over to Thomas.
Sorcha followed and sat next to the cooky. Its mouth opened in what she took to be a friendly expression, the long tail thumping on the floor.
Arick and Thomas leaned against the low wall. The voices continued, rising and falling over one another. Some spoke with urgency while others held a mocking tone. One droned on as if talking in his sleep. She sat up on her knees to peer over the wall.
A large man was sitting in a raised seat, looking out over the room. A guard stood on either side of him, and two people sat quietly at little desks below him. A man in a gray coat focused fully on making little scribbles on a white block while the woman watched the speakers.
The voices were coming from the rows of people. Two were facing her, and more voices were coming from below her.
Arick grabbed her arm and pulled her down, placing his finger over his mouth again.
Oh. They were hiding.
She grinned at the thought of these two men hiding from whoever was in the room below. She wondered what the room was for. It was large, and fashioned with greater care than the other human places she’d seen so far.
The voices pinged back and forth, rising and falling. She couldn’t make out any of the words, but at times, anger bounced around the room. A higher-pitched voice, a woman’s, spoke passionately for an extended time, but she was soon cut off by the divisive tones from several men.
Sorcha grew bored of trying to understand the conversations, and settled more comfortably near the cooky. She tapped his feet, and he’d shift them away. Any time she tapped his nose, he’d lick her chin.
Below, the voices grew more heated, and Arick and Thomas listened with great interest, their faces creased in concern.
A booming voice broke across the cacophony. “Thomas…!”
