Emissary by Melissa McShane

Author:Melissa McShane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, priestess, pantheon, religion fantasy, death as character, spirits of the dead, fantasy about gods and goddesses
Publisher: Melissa McShane

Chapter Thirteen

The news that Alestiou, Marathelos of Kalindi, had died in his sleep came early the next morning via a messenger from Dakariou. Zerafine took the news dry-eyed; she’d finished her crying for Alestiou and now felt a familiar sorrow mixed with joy at the thought of his passing into a realm where there was no more pain. Nacalia cried a little, but without much personal feeling; she’d lived her whole life with Alestiou a powerful presence far in the background, whose actions had no effect on her personally. Gerrard said nothing, but watched Zerafine closely until, irritated, she told him to stop hovering. Instead of taking her bad mood personally, he seemed pleased that she’d recovered her spirits enough to snap at him.

At nine o’clock, they set out on their investigations. Nacalia led the way toward the Capitol, but after a few minutes, she stopped in the middle of an intersection and turned in a full circle. She headed off in a different direction, her back hunched, her attention firmly on the ground. At the next turn, she stopped again.

“What is wrong, Nacalia?” Zerafine asked, more sharply than she’d intended. Perhaps her bad mood hadn’t worn off as much as she’d thought.

“Can’t find the road,” Nacalia said, every bit as irritable as Zerafine.

“The road’s right there,” Gerrard pointed out.

“It a’nt the right road,” Nacalia said. “This is the road goes off to market way. See here? The stones? The way they poke up like eggs in a basket? Road to the Capitol is all smooth pavers.”

“How did we get on the wrong road?” Zerafine asked.

“I don’t know!” Nacalia shouted. “We was on the right road to the Capitol and then it wa’nt the same road!” She sat down in the middle of the street, oblivious to the traffic passing around her, without care for the dirt.

“These people don’t seem to have any trouble,” Gerrard began, but Nacalia cut him off.

“These are who lives here. They a’nt going farther than home or market. Bet they don’t even notice. Or they figure they just took a wrong turn.”

Zerafine and Gerrard looked at each other over the girl’s head. “Could the roads really change, or...” Zerafine pointed down at Nacalia. She was only nine. Even she could make mistakes.

“I a’nt crazy, so stop pointing at me,” Nacalia said, not looking up.

“Portena’s legendary for its maze of streets,” Gerrard said. “Maybe this is why.”

“But—streets changing? Stepping into one street and out on another? That doesn’t seem possible.”

“If you a’nt going to believe me, why did you hire me?” Nacalia shouted.

Zerafine looked down at her small, angry head. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry, Nacalia. Let me see if I understand. We were on the road to the Capitol, and then we were on the road to the market, yes?”

“I just said,” Nacalia muttered.

“I mean, you don’t see any changes? There’s no, I don’t know, ripple or fading or anything?”

The small head went back and forth in a ‘no’.

Zerafine looked at Gerrard. “Let’s see if I can do better.

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