“What are you implying?” Kaldar stopped cleaning his fingernails with the tip of his dagger.
“Nothing offensive. Simply put, all of you had a very difficult day, and I’m sure the eel was the last thing on your mind. However, the problem remains unsolved. The law clearly says that if you purposefully destroy property belonging to another, you must pay restitution. As you know, since we are related by blood, the eel would not have attacked you unprovoked. So, either you provoked it or you did nothing to avoid it. I understand that another person was involved in the altercation, but the fact remains: you are allowed passage through Sect-held property, but he was not. The eel was simply doing its duty. Since you were present at the scene and can’t claim ignorance of our traditions, the Sect holds you responsible for not taking care of—”
“How much?” Cerise asked.
“Five thousand.”
She reeled back. Kaldar’s jaw hung down. Erian’s eyes snapped open. Ignata nearly dropped her glass.
Cerise leaned forward. “Five thousand dollars? That’s outrageous!”
“It was a fifty-year-old animal.”
“Which attacked me in the middle of the swamp in an unmarked stream!”
“There was a marker there. We’re just not sure what happened to it.”
“This is unfair!”
Emel sighed. “Cerise, you and I both know that you are perfectly capable of avoiding mud eels, especially one of this size. It was hard not to notice the thing—it was fourteen feet long. However, your points are valid and you’re my dear cousin, that’s why it’s only five thousand and not seven as it would’ve been for anyone else.”
“We can’t do five thousand,” she said flatly.
“I’ll go as low as four thousand eight hundred, Cerise. I’m sorry but anything less would be an insult to the Sect. And even so, the missing two hundred will have to come from my own funds.”
Gods, where would she get the money? They had to pay the Sect. It was too powerful. Making an enemy of it would mean that their livestock would start dropping dead. First the cows and rolpies, then dogs, then relatives.
“If you do not have the lump sum, we can set up a payment schedule,” Emel suggested. “Of course, there would be interest involved ...”
“Three payments,” she said. “No interest.”
“Within three months, the first good-faith payment due by the end of this week.”
“You’re forcing me to choose between clothes for the winter and being forever in debt to the Sect. I don’t appreciate that.”
“I’m sorry, Cerise. I truly am.”
The creature awoke. “I very much care about all of you,” Emel said. “The Sect does not wish me involved in this affair with the Hand. But I’ll try to help the best I can. I will find a way.”
The beast took to the air and vanished into the darkness outside.
Kaldar slammed the window closed.
“Where are we going to get the money?” Ignata murmured.
“My grandmother’s jewelry,” Cerise said. She thought of the elegant emeralds set in the pale white gold, thin like silk. Her link to her mother, the last link to the life that could’ve been. It felt like ripping a chunk of herself out, but the money had to come from somewhere and that was the last reserve they had. “We’ll sell the emeralds.”
Ignata gaped. “They are heirloom pieces. She meant them for your wedding. You can’t sell them.”
Oh, she could. She could. She just had to have a good long cry before she did it, so she didn’t break into tears during the sale. “Watch me.”
“Cerise!”
“They are just rocks. Rocks and metal. You can’t eat them, they won’t make you warm. We have to pay the debt and the kids need new clothes. We need new ammunition and food.”
“Why can’t he pay?” Erian nodded toward William. “He killed it.”
“He has no money,” Cerise said. “And even if he did, I wouldn’t take it.”
William opened his mouth, but she stood up. “That’s it, the debate is over. I’ll see y’all later.”
She headed outside onto the verandah before she broke to pieces.
OUTSIDE the cold night air wrapped around Cerise. She took a deep breath and started down around the balcony, to the door leading to her favorite hiding spot.
A dark shape dropped onto the balcony in front of her. Wild eyes glared at her. William.
How in the world did he get ahead of her? She crossed her arms on her chest.
He straightened.
“You’re in my way,” she told him.
“Don’t sell them. I’ll give you the money.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Is this because you’re still pissed off about Lagar?”
She threw her hands up. “You stupid man. Don’t you get it? Lagar was trapped like me. We were both born into this, we couldn’t leave, and we knew we would eventually kill each other. What we wanted made no difference. At least he could’ve run away, but I’m stuck here because of the family. I didn’t love him, William. There was nothing there except regret.”
“So take the damn money.”
“No!”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to be obligated to you.”
He growled.
Quick steps approached. They both turned.
Aunt Pete came running from around the corner. “Cerise?”
Dear Gods, couldn’t they leave her alone for just a moment? Cerise heaved a sigh. “Yes?”
“Kaldar’s boys came back. They found the house where the Hand is holed up and took pictures.” Aunt Pete wheezed. “Hold on, let me catch my breath.” She thrust the photographs out.
Cerise took the pictures and held them up to the weak light filtering outside through the window. Big house with a glass hothouse on the side. Kaldar’s guys got really close. She would have to speak to him about that—no need to take chances.