《The Stormcrow Cycle》Chapter Thirty-four: Fissures
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It wasn't long before Ba'an began to wilt.
Her battle with Tik-tak Mal'uk felt long ago, but in truth it had only been a month at most; her stamina had not yet recovered. Still, she had little desire to end the day early, not with the way her cheeks were aching. It was a pleasant ache; Ba'an had no doubt Lukios' muscles were sore too. He had smiled more than she had—he was still smiling now.
The sun had started to dip. The sky darkened so its vast blue plain became tinged with pink and red, lining the clouds until their underbellies glowed; still, it was light enough to see.
"You hungry?" Lukios still had his arm around her waist, his other arm preoccupied with their shopping.
...Her shopping.
She shook her head.
"You sure?" Lukios eyed her with suspicion, but Ba'an nodded.
"Yes. I am well." This was a lie. She was hungry; that was a given. But Lukios had already bought lunch and spent a great deal of coin entertaining her all day. She could not ask him to continue spending, especially when she knew he had borrowed the money. Ba'an did not know the details of borrowing and lending, but she remembered what Lukios had said on their journey from the road all those weeks ago: some Illosians sold themselves over debt.
It was a terrifying thought. She did not think he would be foolish enough to borrow so much, but...Lukios had a reckless streak. She knew him well enough to understand he would take undue risks if the reward appealed.
She glanced at their joined hands.
Yes, he was an absolute madman.
"But it's dinner time. You sure you don't want to go to another taverna? Hey, maybe we should hit Ostos'? Said we would, didn't we?"
She shook her head again.
“Hm.” Lukios glanced around. "Well, you’re probably right. Night Market’ll start soon, and this is Kyros. Gets rowdy. Wanna just go back then?”
She nodded.
It was true Ba’an was the Stormcrow. But that did not mean she was stupid or arrogant enough to wander through the agora at night. That was simply begging for trouble, and she had no desire to alert the entire city to her presence if she was forced to defend herself—or Lukios, for that matter.
Ba’an watched the women who had been hawking their wares pack up and disappear. The wooden stage for the puppet show was already gone, dismantled and carried away, no doubt; the vendors had changed, and men were setting up standing torches all around the square.
Now this was interesting. The agora was becoming something else now, transforming itself the way a woman did when expecting her lover. She watched with curiosity as guardsmen streamed into the square, standing in pairs by the marble pillars; they set up torches as well. Were they expecting trouble?
"Right." Lukios eyed her, and Ba'an watched his forehead wrinkle, though she had focused very hard on keeping herself from swaying. "Uh, you tired, sweetheart?” He looked mildly embarrassed. "Didn't mean to run you ragged."
She swallowed a yawn. “I am well. But…yes, I am tired.”
Lukios nodded, then scanned the streets. He pointed down a side path that disappeared between two buildings. “I think that’s the fastest way back.”
They began walking east. Ba’an watched the bustle continue around them. Kyros was always busy near the markets, which was also one of the reasons why she avoided such places. The cacophony, both physical and spiritual, was beginning to wear on her, like the sound of a sandstorm screaming from outside a vuti—but worse.
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Ba’an turned her face into Lukios’ side, focusing on the way his soul hummed. The effect was like sitting in the sun by a waterfall, and the clamouring of other souls receded until it was only a dull buzzing in the back of her mind.
This was better.
Ba’an did not need a soul. Yet.
But if she stayed longer than she had planned, it would come to the point where she would need one; it would be wiser to take one before she became…desperate.
Tik-tak Mal’uk snickered maliciously in her head. Why worry? Your next meal has come to you. It clings like shit on your sandal. How fitting. The sneering was intolerable, and Ba’an felt her hackles rise.
Be silent.
It only laughed.
She needed to get rid of it as quickly as possible—but when? She would not be on the road in two days, not anymore. She would be in Kyros for as long as Lukios was burdened with his duty.
“Ba’an? You okay?” The crease in Lukios’ forehead had deepened as he stared down at her. He pulled her tighter against him, rubbing his hand over her upper arm.
She nodded against his tunic. “Yes.”
“Uh…” He cleared his throat. “You sure? You don’t look so good.”
“Do not worry, Lukios.”
They dodged a gaggle of men who were laughing and yelling to each other with drunken cheer; Lukios and Ba’an moved to the side, hearing them as they came up from behind them, going in the same direction. They watched the men go by, Lukios keeping himself firmly between her and the open street. Once they were gone, they continued walking.
“I’m not worried,” he said as they wandered up the streets. “I just thought—maybe you want to ride on my back?”
She snorted. “Lukios. I am thirty-three, not three.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, snickering, “I definitely noticed. Just saying—I don’t mind if you ride me all night.” She could see the white flash of his grin even in the dim glow of early twilight; she rolled her eyes.
“I must decline your generous offer.”
“You sure?” His tone had become somewhat more serious now. “You look a little uh…tippy. And you’re not all recovered yet, either. I’ll let you down before anyone sees, Ba’an.”
She stumbled, flustered, but he kept her steady.
“It is well,” she mumbled. “I can walk, Lukios.”
He let it go graciously. “If you say so. But I’m just saying—I’m always happy to give you a ride.” He leaned toward her and gave her an exaggerated leer, and she pushed his face away with a snort. Predictably, he only laughed his usual merry laugh, and let off.
They walked together in comfortable silence, her shoulders and side delectably warm as he held her. Ba’an noted that the streets were emptying, but there were some people who seemed to be headed to the square, not away; they moved in groups, and everyone held torches.
All of them were men, and they seemed to be in good spirits, anticipating an evening of fun. Lukios always pulled her to the side and let them pass; Ba’an thought this was quite wise, and she did not complain when he moved her so she was between him and the buildings. This was sensible.
More people passed by. They were dressed well, though not richly, and the key seemed to be a number greater than five; perhaps it really was dangerous to go carousing at night, though it did not seem to have dissuaded very many young men. They laughed and hollered as they made their way down the street, and some of them had their arms slung around each other in easy camaraderie.
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It did not take long for them to come upon some men—boys, really—who were up to no good. There was three of them, and they were laughing quietly with each other as they clustered around a wall of what she thought must be a home. Ba’an realized with a start that they were defacing it with something sharp—they were writing on it.
Ba’an stood stock still, watching, and Lukios stopped too, puzzled. She could feel his eyes on her, but Ba’an only watched as letters appeared, one after another. They had already written quite a lot, though she could not read a word of it.
“Oh, that’s rude,” Lukios muttered, and then he raised his voice. “Hey! What’re you kids doing? Making your mamas real proud, aren’t you?”
They shot up instantly and took off running, swearing rudely. “Suck my cock, fuckface!” One of the boys turned to make a gesture that Ba’an was certain was very uncouth, and then continued running.
Lukios only rolled his eyes.
“What’s all this, then?” The front door swung open and a man dressed in a plain, undyed tunic stepped outside with a candle. The candle was fat and made of wax, and it smelled pleasantly of herbs. This was a wealthy home.
Lukios shook his head. “Just some boys up to no good. Your wall’s going to need some sanding.” He pointed, and the man turned, raising his candle.
He cursed. “Oh, those little shits. I know exactly which boys did this. Thank you, I suppose.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll have that sanded off before sunrise.” He looked at them again, curious now. Ba’an saw his eyes linger on Lukios’ hair. “And to whom am I speaking, friend?”
Lukios smiled very pleasantly. “Farhad of Heliopolis. This is my wife, Ba’an.” They shook hands.
Ba’an refrained from reacting, but it was a near thing. ‘Farhad’? His wife?
Hm. Lukios did not wish for anyone to guess who he was. This much was clear.
Ba’an tucked her hands beneath her cloak so this man would not see her ring finger was bare.
“Well met, sir Farhad, lady Ba’an. I am Etes, and you have my thanks.” He nodded to Lukios. “You’d best be taking your missus home, then. Kids these days. I swear, they’ve all gone feral, like roving packs of dogs.” He glanced up at the sky, which was now nearly black, then at his candle. He offered the entire thing, holder and all, to Lukios.
“Oh, that’s—that’s real thoughtful of you, but we didn’t do much.” Lukios shrugged. “They spooked easy.”
The man shook his head. “I insist. It’s the least I can do. You’ve saved my mistress from a very humiliating morning.” Then he dropped his voice and said, in a very theatrical whisper, “I have to say I thanked you somehow, don’t I? She’d be best pleased if you came for dinner, but not displeased if I give you a gift. So…” He offered it to Lukios again, and this time he took it with a bemused shake of his head.
“Twisting my arm already, Etes? Ha. Thanks. We won’t get lost with this.” They shook hands again, and Etes bid them a safe journey before he returned and shut the door behind him.
“Well, that was fun. Let’s—Ba’an?”
She left his side to creep closer to the wall, squinting at the letters. Glaring did not bring clarity, which was expected.
“What does it say?” She pointed to the first word.
Lukios sounded surprised. “That? It’s—it’s real rude, sweetheart. Not worth hearing.”
“I wish to know what it says.” Stubbornly, she pointed at the first word again.
“Uh…” Lukios glanced around, then dropped his voice lower. “It says…I won’t say the name out loud, but it’s a woman. It says the woman uh…” He sighed again. “You really wanna know?”
“Yes.”
He moved closer to whisper into her ear. His breath was warm, and her shawl tickled her neck and shoulders as the fabric ghosted over her skin. “It says the woman ‘…fucks horses and sucks cocks for half a c.’ I’m guessing he meant to write ‘copper’ before we interrupted.”
She blinked. That was rude. Exceptionally rude. A K’Avaari boy who wrote such a thing would have found himself in a great deal of trouble, especially if the tribe had an active shaper in the stone. He would have been punished twice—once for the insult to the woman, and once for the insult to the shaper.
“Not really worth hearing, right?” He shrugged.
She pointed to the first word again. “Is this one her name?”
He looked at her, and she saw his eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Uh…yeah.”
Hm, well he did not wish to say it out loud out of respect, so she would not ask him. She pointed to the next word. “And this one?”
“Uh…’fucks.’”
She nodded, then pointed to the first letter. “Is this ‘f’?”
“…Yeah.” He stared at her. “Ba’an, what’s this about? You don’t really care about a rude message on a wall, do you?”
She stared at the wall in silence. He was correct. Ba’an did not care what the message was. It was only that these boys—these vulgar, uncivilized boys—could read and write, and she could not. Even the hawker women at the square could write, though she did not know how proficient they were. They could read and write their sums, and that was still more than Ba’an. Merida could do a great deal more; she wrote entire recipes in Dolkoi’ri.
Ba’an could not even read a menu that came with pictures.
She brushed off her dress and stood, feigning nonchalance. She knew the letters for ‘fucks’ now, at least. That was a start, was it not?
“Sweetheart?” He looked very concerned, which was the last thing she wanted.
“It is well, Lukios. I was only curious. The man had a strong reaction.”
“Uh…huh.” He eyed her skeptically. “Selling. Not buying. Ba’an?”
She glared out into the dark, jaw tight. She felt heat flush upward until her cheeks were stinging, her heart beating faster than it should have, as she recalled her own clumsiness, her helplessness. If Nikias had lied about anything he had written down, she would never know it.
Nikias humiliated me all morning without trying and now I am angry at how ignorant and useless I am.
No, no, she could not say this out loud. Lukios would be furious, and he would confront Nikias for sure. That would not end well.
Lukios tucked the package he had been holding into the space between his chiton and tunic where it hung awkwardly over his belt, then drew her away from the wall, gently putting his hand on her cheek. “Ba’an? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She avoided his eyes, staring at a spot just beneath his left shoulder. The cloak had folded oddly there; she reached up and straightened it, smoothing the fabric down. He caught her hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing the tips very gently.
Ba’an blinked furiously, then tucked her forehead against his chest so her face was hidden. She could feel the steady drumming of his heart beneath his clothes, and she tilted her head up so she could kiss him on the chest, right over it. His soft sigh stirred her shawl.
Lukios had tried so very hard to make her laugh today. She was being so rude.
“I am tired,” she mumbled, and she felt him nod slowly.
“Okay.” He handed her the candle, and she held it up. He took her parcel from its awkward tuck and held it beneath his arm once more, then put his free one around her shoulders.
They continued walking.
“You know, when I was a kid,” he started, and Ba’an nodded against him as she listened, letting him distract her, “I did the same thing—well, sort of. I wasn’t quite such a prick, but you know, I liked to climb things, and once I did it, I wanted people to know it, so I used to sign my name here and there. Anyway, this one time, I got it into my head that I was gonna climb to the top of the Temple of Helios…”
It was a very Lukios sort of story, and she felt her melancholy slip away.
The streets were mostly deserted now, but there were still some revelers. They were easy to spot; they all had torches. Once, a young man turned from his friends to stare, and Ba’an realized Lukios’ hair had caught his eye; without stopping, Lukios simply pulled his hood up and continued his story without a hitch or hiccup.
“…That was very dangerous, Lukios! If someone ever climbs up again…”
“…Aw, come on Ba’an! You must have done…”
“…once, and Ul’ma was furious. She…”
They continued their conversation as they walked, holding each other against the night.
Lukios flopped over onto his back with a groan, still panting with exertion. Ba’an curled herself around him, enjoying his heat as the sweat on her skin began to dry. Their hosts had already dined, so they had simply snuck some food into her room for a late, intimate dinner. Satiating one appetite had naturally led to satiating another.
They lay together until she shivered; Lukios stirred and pulled the blanket over them both.
“Better?”
“Yes.” She paused, then added, “Lukios. What is wrong?” Lukios had been distracted all night, though he had still been careful to pleasure her in the way she liked.
He was silent for a beat too long. “Isn’t that my line?”
She blinked up at him. “No?”
His mouth twitched into a smile. “No?” He pulled her up so she was lying on him belly-down, head tucked beneath his chin. This was a very agreeable position, and she sighed happily as his arms closed around her. He kissed the top of her head.
“You gonna tell me what’s got you all tied up in knots?”
“I am not ‘tied up in knots,’ Lukios.”
“Uh huh.” He stroked her back slowly, the calluses dragging sweetly over her sweat-dampened skin. She felt a little shiver make its way up her spine and she snuggled closer.
“Was it Nik?”
“It is well, as I said.”
She felt him shift, so she tilted her face up to meet his eyes. “What’d he say?”
“He was very polite, Lukios. It is only that…” She put her head back down to hide her expression, pressing her lips against his throat in a gentle kiss. A very fine excuse to stop speaking. She found his pulse point and began to suckle him lightly, grazing him very delicately with her teeth.
Lukios squirmed. “Nuh u—oooh.” She felt him shudder beneath her; the hand that had been gently stroking her back moved lower and squeezed before he caught himself. “Uh, nuh-uh. Nope. Stop distracting me.” He rolled them over so she was on her back. “Cheating! No cheating.”
She only raised her eyebrow at him and snorted. With a grin, he brushed her hair from her forehead, dropping a kiss on her mouth before speaking again. “What’d he do, sweetheart? I mean…aside from threatening to arrest you, that little shit.” He scowled. “I’ll have a chat with him later—”
“Lukios. Do not thrash him. You must have allies, and Nikias is powerful. Do not act on your feelings. Smile. Be pleasant.” Ba’an would handle Nikias in due time—if needed. First, she would find out if he held a spirit contract. This was the most important step.
If he had one, she would have to move very quickly, before it spilled any secrets. If he did not, then she could move at her leisure; this was preferable, but a contract with a spirit was serendipitous in a way, as well. If she controlled the spirit, Nikias would be forced to either break his contract, gutting his magic, or play on her terms.
Tik-tak Mal’uk laughed, very quietly. So you can think, after all. Congratulations. You are not completely stupid.
She ignored it.
“I won’t thrash him, Ba’an. We’re adults, you know. We can sit down and have a conversation that doesn’t end in thrashing.” He sounded exasperated. “You know I’m not just some violent thug, right?”
She reached up and stroked his cheek, pleased by how he leaned into her touch. “You are very gentle—with me.” With Terutus? Not so much. Not that she cared about Terutus, but…
What Lukios had said about Nikias having his hand cut off still disturbed her. Dolkoi’ri justice was barbaric.
He snorted. “Hey, hey, I’m gentle with everyone. Except for the guys I’m not gentle with. But everyone else? Damn right.”
She paused, confused. “...That…does not make any sense, Lukios.”
“Sure it does. It makes loads of sense.” He drew closer so they were nose to nose. “It makes lots and lots of sense, and if you don’t tell me what nasty thing he did, I’ll tickle it out of you.”
Now it was her turn to snort at him. “He did not. It is not anything he did.”
“Okay. What did he say or not say?”
She shook her head. “No. Lukios, it is not…it is not something you should punish him for. It is…” Ba’an trailed off as she looked to the side, biting her lip.
Lukios had his own worries, worries that were much bigger. It was a silly thing to be so upset over her own inability. Educating herself was her own problem, was it not?
…Perhaps she could ask Merida for help?
Lukios put his finger right under her teeth. She stopped, but scowled up at him.
“One day,” she mumbled around his finger, “I will bite you.”
He only grinned. “Sounds good. How about today? Wanna bite my finger, or somewhere better? Hey, I have pretty meaty—”
“Lukios.”
He was too busy snickering to respond immediately.
“Are you finished?” Ba’an was careful to sound exceptionally patient and long-suffering.
“Yup.” He kissed the tip of her nose and took his finger away. “You ready to tell me why you’re so upset?” He paused, then added generously, “I can wait longer if you want.”
“It is not very important. You have bigger problems, Lukios. Your debt, Synoros, Eirenne…”
His eyes widened. “Aw, Ba’an. Don’t tell me you’ve been fretting over that.”
“No.”
He burst out laughing. “Okay, good. And here I was starting to get all melty, ha.”
“People do not melt, Lukios.” No, people burned. Ba’an did not think even she could manage a fire hot enough to melt a man. Outlanders said the strangest things.
He was laughing again, though much more quietly this time. “I adore you. Never change, sweetheart.” He kissed her mouth, nuzzling her as he did. “Never, ever change, my sweet, beautiful, glorious, perfect Ba’an-turtle.”
There was a warm, familiar feeling blooming low in her belly. She put her arms around his neck so she could kiss him back properly.
Ba’an was busy wrapping her legs around him when he drew back, breathing much harder than he had been.
“No, wait, wait. We’re not finished and I told you! No cheating.”
She rolled her eyes. “Lukios. It is not important. There. We are finished.” She ran her hand along his spine very lightly, watching in satisfaction as he shut his eyes and sighed. She could see he was torn between two dueling desires; he only needed a little encouragement.
Ba'an lowered her lashes and peered up at him, knowing perfectly well how much he liked it. "Lukios," she murmured, "I am tired of speaking." Turning her head she nuzzled his arm where it was braced against the mattress. Lukios made a helpless little noise and leaned down to kiss her, once, twice, then again and again until she lost count, too dizzy and breathless to even try; his mood had certainly changed.
They joined together again, going very slowly so it lasted. Afterwards, she was far too exhausted to speak and they lay limply in a blissful, sweaty heap. She fell asleep to the sound of Lukios heartbeat, his voice murmuring tenderly in that fluting language he so enjoyed whispering into her ear; her dreams were very sweet, though she did not remember them all.
She woke abruptly sometime later, aware that her side was cold.
“Lukios?”
She heard rustling, and then the bed dipped as he sat. He kissed her forehead.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” She felt disappointment well up beneath her breast as she took in his clothes.
“It is still dark.”
“Yeah, I know.” He took her hand in his and kissed her fingers. “I have some business. Why don’t you get some more sleep? I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Business?
“But Lukios…” She sat up, which took a great deal of effort. Ba’an had not realized how bone-deep her exhaustion had been until she had slept; even now, it threatened to drag her into slumber again before she finished speaking. “What business can you do at this hour?”
Lukios only smiled. “Well, I mean there’s something I have to get done. It’s not real business-business.”
…What did that even mean?
He took in her expression, and let out a little chuckle. “Don’t fret, sweetheart. It’s nothing nefarious, or even a little bit dangerous.” He tugged her back down, and she obeyed—not because she wished to, but because she was falling asleep again.
How could one meeting and a few shopping trips take so much out of her? It was absurd.
“Sleep tight, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast, okay?”
“Do not…” she yawned helplessly, eyes closing, as Lukios tucked her hair behind her ear, “…do anything dangerous, Lukios.”
She could hear the amusement in his voice when he spoke next. “I won’t. I promise all my bits’ll be there at breakfast.” He tucked the blankets around her. “Sleep well, Ba’an.”
“Lukios…” she mumbled, but she never finished; whatever she had meant to say drifted away, and she tumbled back into her dreams.
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