She Who Rides the Storm (The Gods-Touched Duology)
She Who Rides the Storm: Chapter 18

Lia’s father gave her a long blue scarf to cover her face at her request and a closet full of plain servant’s dresses without any request at all. The scarf was tighter than her veil, knotted across her forehead, nose, and mouth, like some people wore in the eastern provinces. Much less worthy of notice than a full veil, though it left Lia’s eyes exposed.

Somehow the scarf felt hotter, more intrusive because she’d never had less reason to cover herself than now. But Lia loved the way it felt against her skin. It covered how frightened she was.

Maybe Calsta would see the scarf instead of the terrified creature who had always been lurking inside Lia, waiting for an excuse to run from her oaths. Maybe the aukincer and his bratty son would see it instead of a girl they could use. Maybe it would keep Ewan from seeing a single one of her freckles ever again. Lia had detested the veil every moment she’d worn it because she hadn’t wanted the power, hadn’t wanted the authority, the prestige. She’d wanted her friends, her family. But now that she had them again, she was back to hiding.

Hiding itched. And it wouldn’t last. But the next part of her plan required replaceing Knox and his hidden aura, which required leaving the compound, something her father wasn’t willing to sanction. So Lia drummed her fingers on the desk pushed up under her old window, waiting for the guards on the ground to patrol somewhere else so she could climb out.

The guards were dawdling by the pond. The familiar sight of it sparked memories of the time Lia had tried to send Aria out onto the water on Mother’s best silver tray. The memory tarnished almost before it unfolded, though.

Father still wouldn’t let Lia near Mother’s room.

What are the guards doing? Splashing each other in the fountain? Lia paced across the room to wrench open the wardrobe. Next to the maid livery, it was full of little dresses, ribbons, petite shoes in neat rows. All for a child who didn’t exist any longer. She threw the doors shut, her insides seeming to swell too large to fit her outside any longer. Nothing about her old room showed who she was now. No leather cuirass or blade from the seclusion; no Vivi, who was probably wasting away, missing her now that she hadn’t brought him fresh meat for two days. No… what? What was she now that she wasn’t doing as Calsta asked? What should be in her wardrobe?

Lia wasn’t sure.

She crossed back toward the bed, stopping to look at a little gilded ball sitting on the bedside table. Enough gold for armor? Boots? A proper set of clothes that didn’t involve long skirts?

It was hard to know. Lia had never used money. As a child she hadn’t needed to, and as a Devoted she hadn’t been allowed. She picked up the ball but then dropped it, bile rising in her throat. Lia didn’t want the afterlife of hollow darkness that waited for those who betrayed the Sky Painter.

She paced across the room again, hoping whatever Ewan was going through was ten times worse. He was probably pretending his aura was still gilded and hoping for Calsta’s energy to return before the Warlord came. The thought of him sat in her stomach like three-day-old fish. Surely, regaining favor with the goddess would take more than keeping to flavorless food and a hard pallet. Calsta had to see there was something broken inside him, that he wasn’t worthy of her favor.

But Calsta had allowed him to rise high among the Devoted in the first place. If he was broken now, hadn’t he been broken the whole time? Maybe not.

Finally the guards disappeared around the side of the house. After checking her scarf one last time, Lia vaulted over her windowsill and clambered to the ground. Her heart didn’t slow, not when she got to her family compound’s wall, not when she was three streets away, not even when she got over the Water Cay bridge and onto a ferry that would take her to the lower cays, where she’d seen Knox glimmering on the river wall. The drum tower’s high-noon rat-tat-tat made her jump as it echoed over the dry market, the passengers around Lia giving her and her scarf odd looks. Maybe because it covered her hair and forehead, not just her mouth and nose like theirs.

Lia elbowed her way to the ferry’s front to sit on a bench where she could see but no one would be able to see her very well, her eyes flicking from boat to boat in the crowded channels and across the different islands’ packed docks, the water smelling of refuse and animals even through her scarf. Once they docked in the Sand Cay, Lia started toward the river wall, forcing her mind to skip over the fact that he could be anywhere in this city and that she had no real way to replace him.

She soon reached the trade road, spilling across the edge of the cay, towering silenbahks, horses, donkeys, and carts rattling by like ants taking food to their queen. Lia watched the traffic pass, her mind whisking with it. If she couldn’t see Knox, maybe she could make sure he saw her. He must know there were Devoted in town, had maybe heard a spiriter was missing. If she made a big enough stir—even if she had to make it every day for the next week—he’d come to investigate.

Wouldn’t he? They’d always been so close.

But what were the odds Knox would come looking before Ewan did?

Lia pushed that thought away, refusing to be frightened. If Ewan came, she’d deal with it. She always had before, at least until…

Until…

Pulling her scarf tighter, Lia pushed her way down the crowded walkway to the edge of the bustling road. Without thinking, without breathing, she threw herself out into the rush.

A wagon driver veered to the side, passing so close that Lia teetered forward, lurching into the path of a hunchbacked silenbahk. The driver shouted in fear, swearing at her when she jumped out of the beast’s lumbering path.

It was a dance. Two years of being locked inside her veil, and suddenly Lia was in the sunlight, dodging between heavy carts as if they were assailants. Donkeys and wagons veered away from her as she twirled across the road, life burning inside her. A horse reared only inches behind her, his hooves lashing toward Lia’s face, but the creature was nothing more than a poor imitation of Vivi, the rider shouting at her as if a little, tame horse could harm an auroshe rider.

Lia wove between the animals and riders, obscenities shouted at her like a warm cloud of recognition. Tomorrow she could come again, and the next day and the next day, until Knox heard about the girl with the scarf, a death wish, and feet too quick for a mere mortal. He’d come see in a few days. Maybe a week or—

Lia threw herself to the side as a cart swerved too close, an exhilarated laugh bubbling up from deep inside her, and wondered if the angry drivers were trying to hit her out of spite.

“Hey!” a familiar voice shouted from behind her. “Are you drunk? Get out of the road!”

Lia turned to replace a man in a lacy coat bearing down on her, the Warlord’s crest silvered across the toes of his riding boots. His horse swerved alongside her, and in the split second the man had stolen from Lia’s attention, a cart clipped her elbow, knocking her into a silenbahk’s scaled leg. Lia bounced off, only to be brought up short, her scarf pulling tight around her neck. It had snagged on one of the buckles securing the load to the silenbahk’s back and legs.

The lacy-jacket man continued to yell at her, wrenching his horse to a halt directly in the stream of fast-moving carts, giving Lia a bubble of space as she tried to tug the scarf free. The silenbahk continued down the road, the scarf cutting across Lia’s windpipe as the thing dragged her along behind it. Lungs burning, Lia tried to pull herself free, her sandals sliding across the paving stones.

Suddenly the silenbahk gave an angry bellow, as if it had finally noticed Lia attached to it, metal pots tipping from the wide trough strapped to its back to rain down around her. Its front legs lifted off the ground, dragging Lia up into the air.

“Let go of the scarf!” the man yelled.

It’s tied around my neck, you idiot! Lia choked on the words, her vision starting to swirl. Grabbing hold of the length of scarf above her, Lia kicked her feet up, jammed them in one of the silenbahk’s tethers, and hung upside down. Her vision crackled at the edges as all the blood ran to her head. Lia arched her back, reaching for the buckle where the scarf had snagged, her fingers rubbery and soft, her head full of flies. Straining, she looped a finger through the buckle and managed to tear her scarf free.

Lia flipped down, landing lopsided and stumbling as she clawed at the knots that had pulled so tight around her neck. The road was a circus of shouts and curses, the silenbahk rearing, horses slamming into wagons, donkeys braying—

Two more silenbahks emerged from the haze of Lia’s vision. They were off kilter, angry, and charging directly toward her. Horses, messenger beasts, donkeys, people on foot, all ran helter-skelter in a panic to get out of the way. The air roared in Lia’s ears. She frantically groped for Calsta’s energy, sagging sideways when there was nothing there. The two silenbahks’ knobby heads jerked against their riders’ reins as they lumbered straight for the monster rearing behind Lia. They were going to slam straight into it, with her smashed in the middle.

The shouty rider’s horse danced into her vision, the creature wide-eyed and trying to bolt. Holding the poor thing in check with a steady hand, the man yelled something useless about getting out of the way. Lia grabbed hold of his saddle’s high pommel and jammed her foot into the stirrup, on top of his fancy boot, pulling herself off the ground. The horse wheeled to the side with her clinging to its shoulder, the rearing silenbahk’s feet crashing back down just behind them. Fear shriveled Lia’s heart, and she kicked one foot over the saddle and sat, her knuckles white on the pommel. It would have been simple with Vivi. Vivi knew her. Vivi wasn’t afraid of anything.

And Vivi’s saddle wasn’t occupied by a blackmailing aukincer’s son.

Mateo’s arms jerked around Lia, trying to get the reins over her head even as his mare reared. Lia plastered herself forward, Mateo pressing in tight behind her to keep in the saddle, the reins slack in his hands. Once the horse came down, he kicked her through the mayhem to the side of the street, then into a branching alley clogged with people, who threw themselves aside to make way for the horse. The thunder of silenbahk feet and their angry bugling rumbled through Lia’s chest, the whole world rocking back and forth beneath her.

They burst out into the open end of a water market, the floating walkway bobbing this way and that, Mateo’s mare startling back and beginning to rear again. People skittered away, watching them with wide eyes, except for one woman with fists like great hams who shook an empty basket at them, a pile of spilled apples on the ground at her feet.

“What in Calsta’s name is wrong with you? I thought Devoted abstained from alcohol,” Mateo snarled in Lia’s ear, his hands on the reins to either side of her more gentle than the tone of his voice. “No, I’m not going to bruise all your apples and steal your children!” That last was directed to the old woman shaking the empty basket. It had probably been their fault.

Lia dry-heaved, her fingers still pulling the scarf from around her neck. She turned in the saddle, attempting to dismount, but her skirt was twisted around the saddle’s high pommel. After pulling it free, she kicked her foot back over the saddle, then slid to the ground. A thread of remorse needled her chest when the mare startled away from the sudden movement, so she gave the creature an apologetic pat on the shoulder before walking deeper into the market.

“Hey! Lia!” Mateo’s voice chased after her. The apple seller’s shout swelled up to check him, though. “No, I told you, I’ll only pay for the bruised ones,” he shouted back. “No, I can’t carry them away with me!”

Lia slid through the narrow spaces in the crowd. The earth still seemed to rock back and forth under her feet, sending her stumbling to the side.

A hand on her arm pulled her to a stop, Mateo’s smell of stone and dust and some kind of flowery cologne washing over her head. “You can’t even walk straight. You could have killed yourself. You could have gotten me killed!”

“Well, I almost lost my scarf, so we’re even.” Lia pushed away from him, blinking until the ground and sky righted, her mind racing. Knox would definitely hear about this. So would everyone else in the city, including her father. And Ewan.

Mateo grabbed for her arm again, but Lia blocked it and spun toward him, jabbing him hard in the ribs. The aukincer’s son hunched over, his eyes bulging.

“Touch me again and I’ll cut off your hand.” At least her voice was calm. Inside all she could feel was Ewan’s hands grabbing her, his breath in her face.

“I believe you,” Mateo croaked, clutching his stomach. There were mud stains on his fancy boots, and he held one of the bruised apples in his hand. “Why aren’t you hiding in a pantry up in the Water Cay where you belong?”

Lia rolled her eyes. She hadn’t hit him that hard. “Thank you for your help. I’ll leave you to your… apple buying? Good luck getting all those home.” The angry apple seller was scooping every single fruit to her name into a sack, one eye on his horse as if gauging how much the creature could carry and still fit Mateo in the saddle.

“Wait.” Mateo put a hand up, still breathing heavily as he straightened. He was a good foot taller than she was even without his ridiculous hat. “You didn’t break anything, did you? You’re all right?”

“We aren’t actually getting married, so you can stop pretending to care.” She put a hand to her burning throat as she turned to walk away, almost crashing into a man with a barrel under each arm who had obviously been listening.

“Looks like he has money, lass. Might want to rethink your attitude.” The man gave her a knowing leer. “Unless he’s the one who did that?” He nodded to her throat.

“I would never—” Mateo broke off, suddenly looking over his shoulder. “Lia, we have to go.”

Lia pushed past the man with the barrels, anger foaming inside her. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“But he’s coming! He was at the dig with me, and now he’s… he’s on the road.”

Lia stopped, the sun beating down on her shoulders. “Who are you talking about?”

“Come on. Come on!” Mateo was already pushing to the other side of the market. “What’s your range? Can’t you see him? Unless you want to go back to the seclusion? I assumed the pantry act yesterday was because he was looking for you before I got there.”

The pantry act. Because Ewan had been looking for her. Lia suddenly felt as if she were floating away. She could feel Ewan’s teeth on her lip, his breath in her ear.

“Lia, are you coming?” Mateo was staring at her from beside a table covered in sadly gasping fish.

She started after him, her head down, her blood frozen in her veins. He led her across the market walkway to where the canal opened up, boats skimming by almost nose to tail.

“Are you sure you aren’t injured?” Mateo asked over his shoulder, his comically thick eyebrows ratcheted up as high as they would go. “I’ve seen people jump from boat to boat. Maybe if we’re quick, we could get out of range.”

“He…” Lia’s feet stalled, and she looked back over her shoulder. There was nothing to see, no auroshes, no shiny cuirass, no sword drawn and swiping at the apple lady or any of the street sellers gaping after her and Mateo. “Where is he?”

“On the trade road. You Devoted can see one another from what, eighty paces? A hundred?” Mateo swallowed. “I don’t mean to be rude, but both of you are very, very scary, and I don’t really want to watch you fight to the death. Especially since you seem… completely unarmed?” The last came out like a question, as if Mateo couldn’t fathom a Devoted without her sword.

Lia couldn’t either. Yet there she stood.

But Ewan’s aurasight was gone. She’d taken it herself with one touch of her hand against his skin. It shouldn’t have worked on any Devoted but a spiriter, but his crass thoughts about Lia had been draining him already, and her touch was enough to tip him over the edge. Touching him had broken her oath. Ewan touching her back when he wanted to so very much had broken his.

Something she was pretty sure he’d continue to try if he found her.

Lia instructed her heart to stop pounding, her hands to stop clenching into fists, though her body didn’t listen. “Ewan won’t be able to see me from the road right now. He’s diminished, Mateo. You falling into a canal instead of making it across the boats would just attract attention.”

“If I can see him…” Mateo’s mouth pursed, cutting off the words.

Lia choked down her bad memories and concentrated on the way Mateo’s eyes traced the air over her head. Where her aura would be. “Wait, you have aurasight? That’s how you found me?”

“Diminished… like he broke one of his oaths?” Mateo licked his lips, his head dipping forward so his hat’s outlandish brim hid his face.

“He probably won’t have his aurasight back for a few weeks at least. He wouldn’t realize who I am unless he came over here and ripped off my scarf.” Lia batted the hat off Mateo’s head. “You, however, managed to see me just fine. I was in this city for days before I lost my aurasight. I didn’t see a single auraspark in this city. Nothing. If you can see auras, where is yours?”

Mateo started to shake his head, but Lia didn’t let him speak. “You found me in the pantry. You recognized me on the road. And now you know Ewan is in the street behind you more than a hundred paces away. How are you not locked up in a seclusion somewhere? And you’re standing there in…” She gestured at his ornamented boots, the lavish embroidery on his coat. All things a Devoted couldn’t have. “I saw you eat enough cake yesterday to sink the Commonwealth fleet. Why aren’t you diminished?”

Mateo eased back. “You know, it’s hard to read your expression when you’re all covered that way. It almost sounds as if you’re accusing me of something.”

“You’re hiding your aura. You’re keeping your powers without doing anything Calsta wants.” She closed the space between them and took hold of his ridiculously embroidered coat. “How?”

The people milling by had slowed their steps to stare. Mateo’s eyes darted from side to side, as if he were hoping someone might take pity on him and intervene. Lia grabbed another handful of coat, giving him a shake. “Tell me, you useless butterfly.”

Mateo’s mouth gaped open in what she thought was going to be argument. Instead his eyes rolled back in his head, and he drooped to the ground, his dead weight pulling Lia down on top of him.

Lia rolled off him, jerking her skirts out from under his less than impressive bulk. “If you think going boneless is going to save you…” Which was when she saw the saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth, Mateo’s eyes vacant.

Then he began to convulse.