I watch her profile as we make our way along the path. She’s so serene now, and so sure. And then I nearly stumble over the cat as he weaves between my feet, his tail raised like a flag.
Okay, cat. I have time to win you over too.
As we make our way through the city, the whole place grows busier, denser, boats scaffolded higher in precarious arrangements that remind me of the slums on the smaller islands—held together, as my bloodmother would say, with spit and good luck. Then the ground changes underfoot, and I can see paving stones beneath the accumulated dirt. Our surroundings seem subtly more permanent. Up ahead, I can see stone buildings looming above the heads of the crowd.
If I’d ever dreamed of life here on the surface, I would have envisioned huts and dirt. A ragtag handful of people barely scraping by. But there’s a vibrance to the chaos of this floating, moving city that defies anything I could have imagined. This place is so big, soreal, that I don’t know how to process it.
I’m here—and yet none of this makes any sense. How did we not know aboutthousands of people? Did we just decide so long ago that everything left Below had died, that for centuries no one ever bothered to look?
I can’t explain any of it, any more than I can explain what Nimh calls her “magic.” My list of questions gets longer every hour I’m down here, and I’m ready for answers.
Nimh straightens a little beside me, and when I follow her gaze, I see what’s unmistakably a security patrol—they look the same no matter where you’re from, walking purposefully, keeping to their formation and letting those around them make way, forcing them right to the edge of the water. A woman balancing a stack of baskets perches with one foot on a boat to make room for them, and they don’t spare her a glance as she wobbles.
I step up next to Nimh, looking for a cue as to whether the patrol’s presence is a welcome development, or whether we should melt to the edges of the path as well. I’ve spent my fair share of time dodging my family’s own security over the years, so I’m ready.
She turns swiftly to catch my gaze, her brow furrowed. “North, I will not be able to stay with you once we reach the temple. Do not be afraid, though—you will be safe, I will make certain of it.”
“Wait—what? Why can’t you stay? Where are you going?” I’m not prepared for the lurch of alarm that hits me at the notion of my one ally vanishing.
Nimh hesitates, smoothing a hand over her hair as she glances over her shoulder at the approaching patrol. Though she’s unmistakably braced for their arrival, it isn’t quite fear or nervousness quickening her movements. I’m reminded instead of the way Saelis draws himself up and goes into performance mode before he heads onstage with his quartet. She’s drawing some other persona around herself, warmth fading away, replaced by a strange remoteness.
Finally she lets her breath out and fixes me with a look of mute appeal. “They will ask you many questions—tell them nothing, except that you assisted me in finding my way safely back. Tell them I have invited you to stay at the temple for a time as reward for your service.”
I open my mouth, about to protest, though which part I want to protest first, I’m not sure.
The guards have nearly reached us. They don’t spare a glance for me—if I wanted to run, andnottie myself to this girl who apparently draws assassins to her like a magnet and leaves massacres in her wake, now is my chance.
It’s the guard at the front, a woman with dark brown skin and black curls slicked neatly back, who first spots Nimh by my side. I see the moment it happens. Her mouth falls open, and she breaks formation to run forward and skid to a halt in front of us with the whites of her eyes showing.
“Divine One!” She seems to be having trouble finding her words, and Nimh raises her hand, showing the guard her palm.
“All is well,” she says quietly. “Be at peace.”
“But Goddess, we—”
Goddess?
Nimh shakes her head just a fraction, and it’s enough to silence the woman. By now, the rest of her squad has caught up, and they’re shuffling back into formation behind her.
“I am pleased to have an escort back to the temple,” Nimh says, as though nothing weird is happening at all. I’m busy trying not to injure my neck, swiveling my head to take in first my traveling companion, then the guards, then the onlookers, who are beginning to gather.
I can feel a pulse inside my temples, and I’m blinking too fast, breathing too fast.
Nimh said their living god was the one who maintained their guardian stones. The living god knew how to use the same mist and sky-steel we have in Alciel’s engines. She told me I could find “him” at the temple.
It’s one thing to have a girl explain to me that they believe in gods down here.
It’s another to find out that she—and apparently everyone else—thinks sheisone.
“Divine One?” I repeat, in a strangled whisper. “Goddess?” She meets it with a very un-goddess-like look that clearly saysShut up, not now, and I close my mouth with difficulty.
Questions and suspicions are jostling for real estate in my mind—Why didn’t you tell me?is colliding withDid you think I wouldn’t find out?andWhat other secrets did you keep from me?
And running through all of it is a vein of … hurt.
I trusted her, I let her lead me here, and it’s obvious now that our trust wasn’t mutual. There’s no other reason she’d lie to me.
“With respect, Divine One, we should wait for a larger escort,” the woman’s saying.
