But shit, it would be nice if one thing could be simple.
The Ryltish Temple was a spare structure, with only the three hallways branching off the central room—one on the right for a Shrine that he had no desire to explore, one in the middle for cloister rooms, a bathing facility, and the kitchen, and one on the left leading to a domed amphitheater coated in dust, apparently little used. A sign that the world was moving on from the Order, that Kings who did nothing for them were falling further and further out of collective consciousness.
Good fucking riddance.
Raffe headed toward the front doors. Kayu was going to meet him there, and then they’d go to the harbor together to charter another ship with her seemingly endless supply of coin.
She was waiting just outside the door, arms crossed, body tense. Kayu had held herself scabbard-tight since they arrived here, like the oppressive atmosphere of the Temple weighed even heavier on her shoulders than it did on the rest of them. She turned as soon as Raffe pushed open the door, but her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “Ready?”
“I suppose.” They fell into step, both very determined not to look at the other. After they passed the flower-tangled gate, Raffe jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. “So when were you here last? You seem fairly familiar with the Temple.”
Her steps stuttered, dark hair flicking behind her as she turned startled eyes on him. “What do you mean?”
“You said you studied here. Before you came to Valleyda.”
“Oh.” Kayu shook her head, grimaced. “Sorry. I’ve been distracted since we arrived. This place makes my skin crawl.”
He snorted. “Mine too.”
“I studied here for a month or so.” Her lips twisted to the side, like she was thinking. “Languages. The Ryltish priestesses are some of the last to remember the old dialects the country spoke centuries ago.”
“Seems an odd thing to want to learn.”
“Not when you like learning.” But she said it quietly, as if the distraction she’d spoken of was still in full effect.
Kayu loosened up the farther they got from the Temple. The dock they’d sailed to was down the shore from the main harbor, which grew busier as they approached. This harbor in particular was more for travel than trade, so most of the vessels were galleys like the one that brought them here, though a few larger ships idled in the water, too.
Raffe, lost in thought, let Kayu lead the way. He wasn’t sure what to do now—now that everything rested on Neve, now that they knew it would have to be her own decision that brought her back. Just waiting didn’t seem like an option, but what else could he do? What else could any of them do?
Even Kiri and the other priestesses seemed content to stagnate, to see what happened in the Shadowlands and how it reverberated here. They must expect Neve and Solmir to fail, the Kings to break through and rule the earth like they had once before; otherwise, wouldn’t they be doing something about it? Kiri could speak to the Kings—at least, that was what Raffe gleaned from her ravings in the sickroom, talking to Red about choices and Shadow Queens—but she was just… lying there. Waiting. All of them, just waiting.
It made his palms itch. Such massive stakes, undercut by utter helplessness.
“Such is the way with gods, apparently,” he muttered under his breath. He would truly kill for a glass of wine.
Kayu found her mark quickly, a grizzled older captain with a galley smaller than the one they’d sailed over on. Raffe hung back while she did the deal, falling into the role of brawn and letting her be the brains. He kept a hand on his dagger hilt—he’d left his tor back in Valleyda; his rudimentary skill with the thing was embarrassing when Lyra was around—and ambled up behind Kayu, trying to look like a hired guard rather than the son of a Meducian Councilor. His fine doublet had already earned him some looks, and he felt it was probably more prudent to stay beneath anyone’s notice.
“Six of us,” Kayu said emphatically. “As early tomorrow morning as you can.”
“Only six will cost you extra,” the captain said. He flashed a grin pocked with missing teeth. “I don’t leave the harbor with less than ten, to go all the way to Floriane. Have to make the trip worth it.”
That was a lie; the galley bobbing in the water behind him wouldn’t carry ten passengers unless they slept on top of each other in the hold. Kayu knew that, Raffe saw it in the downward pull of her mouth, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she tugged a purse from her waist and started counting out coins.
“Be ready when the sun rises,” she said as she dropped the last coin in the captain’s gnarled hand. “And remember the number of passengers.”
“Aye.” The captain, for all that he’d named the price, seemed taken aback at the amount of money he’d just been handed. With a surreptitious look at the bustling harbor, he shoved the coins into the pocket of his coat. “When the sun first licks the sky, I’ll be waitin’. For six passengers.” He held out his hand to shake.
Kayu gripped it. When she pulled, the captain gave a little grunt of surprise, tugged forward more by shock than any particular strength on Kayu’s part.
“I have an eye for faces,” she said, voice pitched low. “And friends in places that could make your life very uncomfortable, if you decide not to hold to our bargain. Just letting you know.”
Raffe’s eyes went wide, but when the captain shot a startled look his way, he tried to school his expression into nonchalance.
“You have my word,” the captain said, fingers squirming to get out of Kayu’s grip. “Sunrise, six passengers, at the Temple dock.”
“See you then.” Kayu turned on her heel. Raffe followed. When he looked over his shoulder, the captain was shaking out his hand, like Kayu’s grip had squeezed off his circulation.
Once they’d left the harbor behind, Raffe sped up until they walked apace. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“Had to.” Kayu tried for a smile, but it fell flat. “Sailors will scam you cross-eyed if you aren’t careful. You should’ve seen what I had to pay the ones that brought us here.”
A sound enough answer; still, Raffe sped up again, overtaking her and then turning around so they were face-to-face, halting her forward stride. “Kayu.”
Her full lips pressed together, dark eyes finally meeting his. “Raffe.”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.” Something in her heart-shaped face went flinty. “Why, are you afraid I’m going to renege on your meal ticket if my mood goes sour? I know you don’t think much of me, but I’m more trustworthy than that.”
“Kayu,” he said again, because her name was all he really knew to hold whatever feeling this was. Irritation, yes, but also worry, and not just for himself.
She didn’t say anything, eyes wide on his. He didn’t realize he’d put a hand on her shoulder until he felt her muscle tremor beneath his palm.