No point in pretending. His life waited on land; Petran’s at sea. At least for the immediate future.
Arkenn expected Petran to let him out of the boat and row back to theSeabird. Instead, he clutched Arkenn’s hand. “Come, I’ll show you around.” He dropped the hand before they moved from the deserted docks to the main street of E’Skaara.
Arkenn paused, taking in the city. Clapboard buildings with signs hanging above the doors, quaint inns, and houses. The place smelled of rotting fish and seawater. Birds whirled above, calling out to each other.
Nothing extraordinary and most certainly not expected. “The villagers say the streets are made of marble, and everything is shiny and new. That houses all have terraces, and people ride in fancy carriages.”
Petran gave a soft laugh. “In the high city, maybe, where the temple of the Lady is located, and the wealthy make their home. This“—he swept out a hand— “is the lower city where the common folks live. You’ll be amazed at the market.”
No one else strode down the main street, though a man scarcely older than Arkenn traveled from lamp to lamp, extinguishing the flames. Arkenn had never seen street lamps before. The streets were bumpy under his bare feet and slick with morn dew.
“Cobblestones,” Petran explained.
Arkenn knelt, running his hands over the smooth stones.
Petran laughed and yanked him up. “Don’t do that, or they’ll know you’re not a local.”
Heat licked up Arkenn’s cheeks. “Sorry. I’ve never been to a city before.” He rose and gazed around at the buildings. So many shops.
“Wait until you see how many people live here.”
Cold raced through Arkenn’s insides. People. So many people when he’d been used to few. More people meant he could disappear into their ranks, though.
They turned down a side street. Cobblestones gave way to packed dirt. Voices sounded ahead of them, coming ever closer. Finally, the narrow street widened into an open area. Even though the sun hadn’t yet fully risen, men and women bustled about, setting up tables.
“Fish! Get your fresh fish!” one man called, pushing a cart laden with many different kinds of fish.
“Never eat those,” Petran whispered, pointing to a rather sinister-looking blue creature with what appeared to be horns above its eyes. “It’s popular with couples who believe certain parts increase their chances for children, but if it’s not cooked right…” He gave an impression of puking in the gutter. “I think the fishermen started the fertility rumor to sell the worthless things.”
Petran bought them each a pastry from a baker’s stall. The filling tasted of some strange fruit, sweet but tart. As they wandered through market booths, Petran explained what things were and local customs.
A lesson on how to fit in, then. Which only reminded Arkenn that they must soon part. “Show me the high city.”
Petran paled. “Our kind aren’t welcome there. We’ll be run out by the city guards. However, I can show you some better parts of the low city.”
“Our kind?”
Petran rolled his shoulders in a shrug, shirt clinging to his firm muscles. “Not wealthy. The rich follow the Lady. The poor pray to the Father. Da told me they were once one and the same, two aspects of the same deity until some wealthy families claimed the female aspect for their own. So they got the Lady, leaving the Father to the poor.”
They strolled, Arkenn soaking in every last word and enjoying the sticky sweetness of his fruit pastry. Petran had seen a million ports, spoke a dozen languages learned from the pirates aboard theSeabird,and knew about so many things. Arkenn’s entire existence lay in a little mountain village he’d recently left for the first time.
At last, they both seemed to run out of words.
They sat in silence on what Petran called a jetty, staring out to sea, nothing to hear but waves beating against boards and screeching seabirds. Petran broke the silence. “I hate to see you go, but you need to find lodgings before the sun goes down, someplace safe.” He tilted his head to face Arkenn, studying him for a long, long time. “I will truly miss you. I wish I could come with you, but my father doesn’t want to leave me here.” A quick right-left perusal showed no one around. Petran leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Arkenn’s cheek. “Pl… please take care of yourself.”
This was to be goodbye, then. Arkenn pressed his knuckles against his eyelids. The burning continued. A heavy weight settled in his chest. They were alone here; he’d been watching to be sure. Cradling Petran’s face in his hands, he leaned in for a slow, heartfelt kiss. Petran opened his mouth, sliding his tongue along Arkenn’s. Sheer paradise, this connection. Reluctantly, Arkenn pulled back. “I wish you could come with me.”
Petran stared down at their joined hands. “Me too. You’ll never know how much.”
“If your father leaves you here in the future, do you promise to come looking for me?”
Petran brightened, one side of his mouth lifting. “I promise, but don’t wait. It could be seasons. I want you to be happy. Make a good life for yourself.”
No need to delay the inevitable. Blinking back tears, Arkenn rose. Only by great effort did he manage to put one foot in front of the other.
Footsteps leading away from Petran, a knife twisted in his heart with each step Arkenn took.
Chapter Nine
