Page 11 of The Cerulean Sister
"I'm so happy you're here." Her voice is strained as I crush her against me.
"It was time, and I can't keep making you come to the capital. I know you hate it."
She makes big eyes at me but doesn't deny the statement. "Are they coming in too?" She juts her chin to where my guards are dismounting.
"No." I laugh and watch 99 giving them instructions in the low, stern voice he uses sometimes. "They will probably just lurk around, don't worry."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry. 99 insisted. You heard about the attack?”
"August sent me a message about it."
"Did he say when he would be back?"
She shakes her head and looks down at her feet, averting her eyes. She must be worried about him because he transports supplies in that area often.
"Hello, Calliape," 99's voice booms behind us.
She jumps but then smiles. I love them both dearly and I know they care for each other, but of the four of us, they are the least close so I always find it adorable when they interact for some reason.
"So, um." She fidgets and angles herself to speak to both of us as he approaches. "I should tell you . . . I needed some repairs done. I toldhimI was having company and then he insisted on doing them today." Her voice is low and more directed to 99.
He looks over our heads, almost into the temple, and nods as if he knows exactly who she is speaking of.
"He's in there now," Calliape continues apologetically.
I look between them utterly confused, they both seem to understand each other, even having said very little.
"Who is?" I whisper like the unknown person can hear me.
99 sighs. "My father."
Chapter
Four
Calliape links her arm in mine, escorting me up the stone path to her home, made completely of beautifully stained wood, with elaborate carvings around the entry and windows letting in the natural light. The lines of the architecture are familiar, but it lacks the coldness the temples in the Estate tend to have.
She guides us down the intact aisle with pews on either side, toward the still set altar, but it does not feel like a sacred worshiping place. Evidence of Calliape and her warmth is sprinkled around the room, small sections assigned to different tasks in the large, open area.
Toward the front, an older, broad-shouldered man stands high up on a ladder, smoothing wet plaster across a damaged portion of the ceiling.
This must be 99's father.
His face instantly changes when he looks down at us, the wrinkles around his eyes smiling before his mouth does. There is a resemblance between him and 99, but even up on the top rung, I can tell he holds himself differently. His tall frame and softer torso are inviting and nonthreatening compared to the brutal strength of 99's body.
"What do we have here!" he chuckles as he descends the ladder that seems a little too wobbly under him.
"Blessed evening," I greet nervously, shifting on my feet until I feel 99's hand on the small of my back, stilling me.
"Blessedevening to you too. Should I call you Priestess?"
"Ferren is fine."
"Good, I'm called Allister. Let me put my tools down so I can get a good look at you." He walks to a table on the far side with full hands, still beaming.
"Allister was just fixing a leaky spot in the ceiling. I mentioned it to him, but I had no idea he would be by today," Calliape explains again, this time using a teasing tone in Allister’s direction.
