Page 70 of The Lost Reliquary
“But now we know their blasphemous interest extends beyond worship and attempted deicide. Who knows what else they might get away with here? There could be all sorts of things we aren’t even considering…” I stop. Think for a moment. “Don’t move.”
I’m up before he can stop me and back at the bar. Rion looks up as I approach.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your reading again, but would you like to join us for a drink?” I add quickly: “My employer would enjoy the company, new as he is to the island.”
Rion brightens. “I never say no to making a new acquaintance. Or a glass of wine.” He follows me back to the table. “Thank you for the kind invitation, sir. I hear you’ve newly arrived.”
“Yes.” Nolan replays the introduction with him, thankfully going along withmyidea this time.
“Have you come to Cyprene on business?”
“Of a sort,” Nolan replies.
“Rion is a bookseller,” I interject. “He has a shop near here… and some interesting stock, apparently.”
Rion laughs. “Not all of it… at least, not in the way you mean. But I do carry a wide variety of writings.”
“Old and new,” I add.
Nolan catches on. “Ah, Lys recalls my interest in history. I will have to come browse sometime.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure I’d have a few items that would interest you greatly.” Rion takes a sip of wine. “How have you found the city so far?”
There’s no suspicion in the question. “It’s…” Nolan thinks. “Different.”
“A fair assessment for someone from the mainland. Some visitors find it quite jarring.” Rion gives Nolan a knowing expression. “Then again, very few come here without at least a little idea of what they are getting into.”
“A fair assessment as well.” Nolan leans back, relaxing somewhat. “I suppose I didn’t expect so many things that would be unwelcome on the mainland to be out in the open here. The salt baths, for example.”
“Oh? Did you pay a visit to one of them?”
“There’s more than one?” Nolan says lightly. “I didn’t realize.”
“Several, in fact,” says Rion. “Each run by a different sect. I don’t share their dogma, but the baths are a sure thing when these old bones begin to ache.”
Nolan’s gaze catches mine for an instant, interest flickering in it.Sects. Our failure at the salt baths today might mean nothing more than we haven’t visited the right heretics yet.See?I try to communicate silently, arching one eyebrow at him.We simply need to be patient, and better informed.
Of course, I’m as anxious as Nolan to find the reliquary. But Cyprene… already, it seems like a place that creates possibilities instead of limiting them. Such as making a living selling racy books. Back at the Cloister, I never would have even considered that an option. I want to ask more,aboutmore, but I’m playing a role as much as Nolan is, and so I keep to myself, even after Rion excuses himself for the evening. When he’s gone, Nolan tips his chin at me in the barest admission of approval and leans back in his chair, pensive. I do the same, content with observing the comings and goings as night settles. More folks wander in for a meal. A card game starts up in a corner. At one point, a young woman begins singing unprompted, a slow tune that eventually turns so raunchy it makes Rion’s book seem as clean as a cleric’s text.
It’s so cozy—sonormal—that I’m disappointed when Nolan stands, indicating it’s time to return to our rooms. I dutifully follow and deposit him at his suite, tempted to sneak back down alone. But my hand touches my jacket, feeling the hard resistance of the lacquer box.
And the Renderers’ book.
Right. I can’t let myself lose sight of our goal, no matter this city’s draw. I was too afraid to take the text out on the ship, where privacy was scarce, but that’s not a problem anymore. The Salt runes have piqued my curiosity; maybe Rion’s novel isn’t the only book that can tell me something interesting tonight. I go to my room, lock the door, and begin to read, determined that, if there is any useful tidbit peppered among the ghastly formulas, I will find it.
Thirty
The devoted have spent centuries developing methods to connect with the divine—prayer, fasting, meditation. But there’s only one way to truly experience the power of the gods. And it’s not cheap.
—THE HERETIC IBEN
THE SUN IS BARELYabove the cliffs the next morning when we are back in the streets of Cyprene, making discreet inquiries about the locations of the other salt baths. Nolan starts the day with fresh optimism, but at each location, we are met with the same results: welcoming but wary priests, who turn their noses up at the bait Nolan lays. By the time the dusk turns Cyprene blush pink, clouds of irritated disappointment have gathered around him again, threatening a full-on storm. He tries to hide it, but the effects of being so far from the Goddess have left the intangible veils Nolan draws around himself more frayed than they used to be. Back in his suite, he slams the door so hard it makes me jump… as well as abandon the suggestion that we dine in the common room again. Instead, I simply watch as he throws himself into a chair, furrows dug deep in his brow.
“I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” I remain standing, crossing my arms. “They’re heretics. Even in Cyprene, they don’t survive by inviting strangers into their inner circles an hour after meeting them.”
“It doesn’t bother you that we are getting nowhere?”
