‘She did it. She almost did it!’ Mother Joca repeats.
‘Are you sure that’s what it was?’ Mother Lin asks, hand over her mouth.
‘Do you know what this means, Lin?’ Mother Joca grabs the other woman’s shoulders and shakes them.
‘Surely not?’ Mother Lin says. ‘We knew she was talented but—’
‘She is wanted immediately,’ Mother Joca says, hurrying about the sanctuary.
‘What is going on?’ I ask, hesitant to draw their attention back to me.
‘Pack your things, Hanan,’ Mother Lin instructs. ‘You’re going to the Bastion.’
chapter seventeen
ris
The mainland iseverything I expected: raucous, pungent, and barely room to swing an otter-cat. It starts to rain once we dock in Umasa, a kind of dreich mizzle that soaks through everything. The air is filled with the stench of blood mingled with salt water.
Our disembarkation is blocked by a Seaguardian stalking the dock. He eyes us coldly, gaze landing on our bags. ‘Name and origin.’
‘Ris, from Alev on the Spring Isle,’ I say, looking down. It’s impossible to make myself small and pretty, so I try meek.
‘And what’s this?’ he asks, pointing to the swelling and bruises on my face.
‘An accident,’ I say.
He laughs, deep from the belly. ‘Oh, aye. And I’m the queen’s priestess. And who’s this then, another accident?’ he asks, laughing harder as he points at Biba.
‘Something like that.’ I try to smile, to ride this camaraderie.
His expression changes like a mainland wind. ‘State your business.’
‘We’re visiting Umasa,’ I say, holding Biba’s hand more tightly.
‘I can see that,’ he says churlishly. ‘For how long?’
I blanch. Like a fool, I haven’t prepared thorough answers. He watches me struggle. ‘A week or so.’
‘We’re here to see the baby,’ Biba interjects.
We both stare down at her and I remember that stupid unfinished blanket.
‘Yes, we’re taking in the sights, hoping to witness the royal birth.’
He seems to soften at this. I can see it writ plain on his face: he thinks we’re country fools on a jolly. I slacken my face into overwhelmed bemusement.
‘Keep your wits about you. Umasa’s crawling with unscrupulous types. Especially since they opened the docks to foreigners and returners.’
I notice the town square and the empty gallows and dare a question. ‘What happened here?’
The Seaguardian follows my gaze. ‘Long drop and a short stop.’
The breeze picks up and I shudder.
‘On your way,’ he dismisses, and we squeeze past him, hurrying onto solid ground.
‘Are all mainlanders like that?’ Biba asks.
