Page 16 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
“For?” I asked carefully. She wasn’t going to make me empty my purse, but I knew better than to assume this was a true gift. Ramia was, after all, half-Afeyan, and the immortal creatures were infamous for the deals and bargains they brokered.
She grinned. “One day maybe you grant me favor I need?”
“A deal?” I asked, heart jumping. Deals with the Afeya were dangerous. But Ramia only laughed in response.
“I only half-Afeyan. No deal. Just favor. One day.”
I swallowed hard, stomach tensing.
Minutes later, I was outside, the necklace wrapped securely within the skirts of my gown, heavy on my waist. My black hood was up, concealing my hair. Tristan’s escort walked silently behind me as I wound through the tents and vendors.
“…And she is not allowed to see. Those are the rules for you and me. Vorakh! Vorakh! They all must drown!” A children’s song rose above the din of the crowd.
I turned abruptly and slid through an opening between two tents before the children dancing in a circle could complete their stupid song. I’d sung it as a kid, too, but now it haunted me. Tristan’s escort followed quickly behind, pulling me back before I crashed into a small vendor’s table. The vendor stood before his tent, smiling hopefully beneath a black mustache that curled at the ends. He gestured to a wide selection of golden sigil pins.
“You are unmarked, my lady. Come buy a pin to complement your beauty. Show all of Lumeria where your loyalties lie.”
I gave a tight smile. He didn’t recognize me and had no idea he should have addressed me as “your grace.”
Out of politeness, and because I’d nearly destroyed all his merchandise, I scanned the pins. The majority showed the sigil for Ka Batavia—golden seraphim wings in flight beneath a silver moon. I found a few with the sigil for Ka Grey—silver wings beneath the moon. There were also some pins for Ka Scholar—a white scroll crossing a golden pyramid—and the sigil for Ka Elys—an ashvan horse racing across the sun. I picked through them until, to my disgust, I came across several snarling wolves. Ka Kormac. A Bamarian seller should only have had pins for Bamarian Kavim, not foreign tribes. Not ones occupying our city.
“They are enchanted, my lady, all to hum the song of their Ka.”
I wasn’t impressed. What good was a singing pin? In any case, I would not purchase from a vendor who sold sigils of Ka Kormac. I pushed one away in disgust. “Are these pins all really loyal to Ka Batavia?” I asked, scanning the crowd for Tristan. It was almost time to meet him.
“I have more,” the vendor said quickly, lowering his voice. “Perhaps you seek something…else?” He vanished into his tent and reappeared excitedly with a small black box that he placed on the table. He peeled back a velvet cover, gesturing for me to select one. I fished inside and removed a tiny golden pin, far smaller than the others for sale.
“You like?” he asked.
It was too tiny for anyone to notice, and the craftsmanship was shoddy. I was about to return the pin, but its sigil caught my eye. It was recognizably the sigil of Ka Batavia, but the seraphim’s feathers had been painted black. It was the same image I’d seen on the man who yelled, “Shekar arkasva.” False arkasva.
“I do not recognize this one,” I said. “Which Ka does it belong to?”
“Ka Batavia,” he said jovially.
“No. The sigil of Ka Batavia has golden wings. These are black.”
The vendor’s cheeks reddened, and he grabbed the pin from my hand, dunking it into the box and replacing the velvet cloth. “My mistake, my lady. I’ll have it destroyed immediately.”
“Pins?” Tristan’s arms wrapped around me from behind. He stuck his face over my shoulder, glancing with disinterest at the display. “I thought you wanted real jewelry.”
The vendor now seemed to realize whom he stood before. Lord Tristan Grey with his silver-threaded clothing, oversized sigil ring, handsome face, and personal escort, was easy to spot. It was well known whom he courted, who was about to become his betrothed. The vendor started to shake as his eyes took in my features shadowed beneath my hood. I could see his mind reeling, recognizing the insult he’d committed in using the wrong address for me. He roughly shoved the box beneath his table. Something in his aura retreated like he was sucking everything back into himself, his cheeks and nose turned red.
“Let’s return to the litter.” Tristan’s fingers entwined with mine, leading me away. The vendor was sweating profusely, his eyes darting around as he produced boxes for his merchandise.
Our escort stood back as the mages lowered the litter to the ground. Tristan pulled back the curtains to allow me inside first, all the while teasing about the beautiful jewelry he’d bought for me. He leaned back on the velvet pillows, and his fingers slid up the length of my arm. He pushed back my cloak and grazed the sensitive skin behind my elbow, his hand only pausing for a second over my golden cuff tightened around my upper arm. My muscles went taut.
Tristan barely noticed. Clearly spending money had improved his mood.
I pushed his hand away from the cuff—away from Meera’s secrets—and placed it on my leg with a knowing look.
But the litter came to an abrupt stop, and our noses bumped. I slid off his lap.
Tristan poked his head outside. “What happened?”
“My lord,” said his escort. “There seems to be a situation.”
My heart stopped. Asituation. That was the word they always used, the code word in Ka Grey. For vorakh.
