64. Boy

On the day of The Gleaming, the streets were less romantic than The Rush of Flowers.

Pennants of red and orange flew from every window in honor of Father Fire.

Archpriest Bamber held a service in the fire temple for any who wished to attend.

When night fell, fire Tintarians ate flaming swords in the city squares.

River informed us that there were four holy holidays in Tintar.

The Rush of Flowers honored Mother Earth.

The Gleaming honored Father Fire.

The Turn of Trees honored Brother Air.

The Thawing honored Sister Sea.

I had not seen Alric since his putting his face into my belly.

He rose early the day afterwards and came to bed late that night.

And on the day of The Gleaming, he was gone from our rooms when I woke.

I knew this was an important holiday for his family, all fire Tintarians and devout to Father Fire.

I assumed he wanted to celebrate on his own.

A part of me had wished he had invited me to spend the day with his family, but I enjoyed walking around Pikestully watching men eat fire and eating greasy fish on a stick from a street vendor.

The seven of us found a bench in our regular brewery and Bronwyn and Eefa joined us, Fletch’s wife having told them to take the entire holiday to themselves.

Eefa was heavy with child now.

The midwife predicted her to be no more than a moon from birth.

While she and I had mainly avoided each other, it was not unpleasantly done.

I could tell she wanted to apologize for her words to me, but an immaturity had held her back.

I had already forgiven her, despite the humiliation.

That night I took the time to tell her I was happy for her and proud of her for keeping a baby growing despite being an abductee.

She was flustered but thanked me.

I did not see my husband or his family all evening, but he and some of his brothers arrived before the night was through though there was no celebration in their manner.

I was listening to Quinn explain some notation method she had introduced to the sea temple’s ledgers when the music died.

We looked up to see a group of men, some civilians, some infantry, mostly Procurers and Cian step inside the brewery.

They looked on edge.

I noticed most of them were damp as if they had been caught in rain.

My eyes found Alric’s and he waved me towards him and I joined him where he stood with Cian, Perch, Thatcher, Anwyn, Arbis and ten other men.

“Edie,”

Cian began, “a boy is missing.

They believe he was seen playing in the caves.”

“That is terrible,”

I offered, unsure of what I was doing standing there, but reveling in my husband’s palm on my lower back.

“We have no time.

We have to keep going,”

Perch said, more to Cian than to me.

“We have maybe four or five hours before the tide is high.

He will drown.”

“Don’t say that in front of his bloody father, Perch,”

Anwyn said, hitting Perch’s arm.

In the group of men, I saw one was far more upset than the rest.

I took that to be the father.

“The family worships our goddess.

They are often at the temple.

Edie, I would like to have you try and read the bluff rocks and boulders along the shore,”

Cian went on.

“The cave system is complex and vast.

It could take days to find him.”

“But I have only just found my magic.”

Cian continued as if he and I were the only two people in the brewery.

“No one else has this exact penchant.

If you cut your hand and walk along the outer bluff wall, I believe Mother Earth will guide you to find him.

I have had no luck, but your penchant is rock and stone.

I think you could find him in time.

But the sergeant is right.

You have to be quick.

You are our only hope.”

“Do not pressure her,”

Alric said in a low voice.

The two men exchanged a fierce stare.

“Alright,”

I said, trying not to feel the rising alarm in me.

“I can try.”

Their horses were hitched outside.

I swung up on Maggie first, Alric behind me.

We rode outward from the center of the city to where the buildings in the bluff rock ended.

Eventually the bluff rock became less severe and more like chunks of stone dotting the waterline.

The horses were tied to the closest hitch post.

On foot, our party made its way down to the beach.

My summer boots were sinking into the sand and I reached out for Alric blindly in the dark, taking his hand.

He held mine firmly and did not let go once I found footing.

Cian pointed back towards the bluff rocks.

“The caves start here.

They are more shallow but they go deeply once you hit the bluff.

Some of them connect with the Shark’s Keep.

And when the baths are drained during low tides, the water flows through the caves.

Children should not play in these caves, but at some point every Pikestullian child does.”

“Used to spend the day in them,”

Arbis said.

Cian came to stand closer to me.

“It will be damp, but I would like you to prick your hand, the left will be easier, and hold it against the rock.

Water is about knee deep right now so you can keep walking.

Hopefully, she will tell you where we should look.

Do not stop even if you pass a cave opening.

We cannot afford human curiosity.”

“Take your boots off,”

Alric said in my ear.

“They’re not fortified for saltwater.

They will slow you down.

The moon jellyfish will not harm you.

They do not leave lasting stings.”

I staggered again in the wet sand and my husband knelt next to me, untying my shoes.

I looked down at him bent at my feet, his rough hands gentle around my ankles.

I looked back up at Cian.

“I don’t have my sagaris.”

Cian reached to his hip, but Alric had already stood up, my boots in one hand, his dagger unsheathed in the other.

I felt all of their eyes on me as I swept the knife over my left palm, sucking my teeth in at the briny air hitting the slice.

The cold rock and salty water would hurt.

It occurred to me that all my other blood prayer cuts had been done steadily on my right hand with the pointed sagaris end, not this unpracticed slash on my left.

I hoped this would not tamper with my hearing from Mother Earth.

Alric’s left hand was on my back to steady me and he retrieved the dagger with his right hand, wiping it on his thigh.

“I’ll be with you,”

he said again in my ear.

He then tied my boots together and slung them around his neck.

I opened my mouth to say he would be a distraction, but caught myself before blurting that out loud.

“What is your boy’s name?”

I said, looking over at the father.

In the dark, only a handful of torches lighting us, the man looked ill.

“Oliver.”

I nodded my thanks and walked over to the closest rock which was as high as my hip, placing my bloody palm on it.

I looked down my tattooed arm at the ranunculus on the back of my left palm and closed my eyes.

“The last time we spoke,”

I whispered into the night, “I was angry and entitled and you still showed me the grace of your presence.

Tonight, I come to you with a petition, but it is not for me.

I do not think my anger was offensive to you, but now I am not angry.

I am seeking.

Will you honor me in this? Will you guide me?”

In the low tide, moon jellies floated just below the surface, glowing blue and white, casting an otherworldly light in the low waves.

“Will you guide me?”

I said again.

I heard nothing, but I felt a warmness in my chest.

I continued to the next boulder and the next, until I was at the true beginning of the bluff, standing so high out of the sea, I would have to crane my head up to see where it met the sky.

I was holding my skirts up around my knees with my right hand as the beach disappeared and I was truly now in the surf, putting one foot in front of the other, unable to see my feet in the dark water below, only the jellyfish dancing around my legs, grazing my skin with dull stings.

I sensed that my husband was right behind me by the splash of his boots.

Behind him, the rest of the search party walked at a distance.