She shook her head. “The one thing I really want is to be free, Timur. If this brings us any closer to that day, then it’d be the best gift of all.”
I rolled the ring on my palm. The starlight played in the facets of the large stone, highlighting the bee carved into it.
“Does it have any value?” Elaine asked.
Like all jewelry worn by nobility, the ring was a status symbol. It was big, noticeable, heavy, and undoubtedly expensive.
“Yes. It’s gold and emerald. But the workmanship alone is quite extraordinary, too.”
“Keep it with the gold then. We’ll sell it when we need to.”
We.
I’d been alone for so long, I had to remind myself that by “we” she meant the two of us—Elaine and me. I had a partner now.
Until tonight, my main goal had been to make enough money so that I could live my final years in comfort and die with dignity. That goal didn’t change, but it was no longer enough. Now, I felt also responsible for making sure that Elaine lived in comfort and safety, even after I was gone.
The dwelling on the beach somehow looked even more pathetic tonight. Before the auction, I’d been saving every coin to scrape enough to pay for a Joy Vessel. As I watched Elaine climbing from my lap now, looking sleepy and weary, I wished I’d had the means to prepare a more comfortable place for her to rest than the thin, worn grass rug.
She yawned and curled up on the floor without complaining.
“I’m so tired for some reason,” she muttered, resting her head on her bent arm. “Must be all that food I ate. Oh, and the wine too. It was a good wine. I think I’ll have a nap now. Do you need me to go anywhere sometime soon?”
“No. You can sleep as long as you want.”
It bothered me that her sweater wasn’t long enough, leaving her bare legs exposed. To me, the night seemed warm enough, but Elaine always cuddled into that sweater of hers. I didn’t want her to be cold. Or hungry. Or scared. And I had to figure out how to make sure she never felt any of those things ever again.
I waited until her breathing deepened and sleep claimed her, then I used one of my Gorgonian-made bracers to lock the door and left the shack. She could sleep, but I had things to take care of.
The population of Ashgate was far from united or homogenous. The city was divided into more sections than I could count, and its population was split into more factions than I cared to keep track of. Wars often broke between the factions, some more brutal than others. But the biggest, most profound divide remained along the line between the cliff face, also called the Wall, and the beach.
Ray was the master of the caves that made the rocky Wall look like a beehive. No one could move in or out, rent or buy, or in any other way occupy the caves without his knowledge and permission. All resources inside the sprawling cave system also belonged to him.
Mazra reigned over the beach. She owned all its shaky dilapidated dwellings, including the one where my biggest treasure was currently taking a nap.
The first row of the ground level caves was where the two worlds merged and the lines blurred. The large caverns with sandy floors here were filled with merchants trying to make a deal, buyers looking for a bargain, and everyone in between hoping to grab whatever came their way.
I had spent my first days in Ashgate in these caverns, browsing them day and night. I had bared their stares that ranged from curious to hostile. I’d made sure that Ashgate would grow used to seeing me and my otherworldly chair. I’d been training them to ignore me.
It hadn’t happened yet. The stares were still there, but they had grown less intense and less frequent. Only a few heads turned my way when I steered my chair into the tavern where many of Ray’s men preferred to hang out.
The walls here were of rock, but the sand blown in from the beach covered the floor, making this a shared space. Both Ray’s and Mazra’s people mingled here freely. The owner of this place paid rent to both Mazra and Ray. As a result, the price of water was exceptionally high, and everyone who came in was expected to buy at least a glass. Those who couldn’t pay were kicked out.
“Water?” A server appeared at my side almost immediately.
I handed him the coin that I held in my hand for that very purpose, then accepted a small glass of water in exchange. I directed my chair toward a table in the back. The chair was cumbersome to maneuver through the crowd. It required space. People gave me annoyed looks but rarely stepped out of my way. A single sweep with my tail would clear the way, but I controlled the impulse to lash out with it, keeping my tail hidden under my cloak.
Slowly and carefully, I made it to a small table by the wall and set down my glass. While sipping the outrageously expensive water, I scanned the crowd for Zayr, one of Ray’s men who often came here at this hour.
Renting the shack from Mazra had made me a beach dweller, which extremely limited my access to the places where I could meet with anyone who lived in a cave of the Wall, like Zayr did. This tavern was one of the very few places in Ashgate where we could talk.
On my third sip of water, a group of Ray’s men entered. Clearly used to being feared and obeyed, they shoved away anyone who dared stand in their path. The owner rushed from behind the counter with a tray of water glasses to personally serve them.
Zayr, Ray’s top enforcer, was impossible to miss. Larger than the average male, he was also completely bald. They said he shaved off his hair to keep it from getting in the way in a fight. Massive gold rings decorated both his ears. A piece of amber twinkled in the piercing in his left nostril. And a thick chainmail of bronze and onyx stretched over his broad chest. A spacious satchel hung across his torso. The satchel looked fairly empty at the moment, but it’d fill up by the time Zayr had completed his rounds at midday.
The patrons of the cavern shrank away from Ray’s men. A man ducked, trying to sneak past them, but Zayr caught him by his braid.
“We need to talk,” he rumbled quietly.
