Page 82 of Minor Works of Meda

Chapter 36

Kalcedon wanted to buy supplies and return to the boat immediately after we’d eaten. Oraik flat-out refused.

“You will have to drag or magic me,” he announced as he pushed his plate away from himself. “That thing is still out there. What if it followed us here?”

Kalcedon didn’t argue this time. He only huffed and tugged his mask down over his face before folding his arms. I suppose the full stomach had taken some of the fire out of him. And so, whether or not it was smart to do so, we both gave in to Oraik’s demands. He was not leaving Koraica without seeing the corridor, and he was not sleeping tonight on a deck without blankets when there were perfectly good beds to be had. We were going to walk the city, and then we were going to have a nice dinner, and we were going to spend the night at an inn.

That was final. In truth, I didn’t mind much, and I don’t think Kalcedon did either. It wasn’t as though sleeping in the wet belly of a wolf-boat was comfortable. Oraik declared that he liked where we’d eaten, and he purchased us rooms for the night when the innkeeper insinuated that they might sell out soon.

“Three rooms?” I asked in wonder after Oraik paid. “Can we really afford that? Shouldn’t we be careful with the rest of the money?”

“It’s fine,” he said airily, which made me wonder how much more gold was hidden in his shoes, and whether it was uncomfortable to walk.

“Good,” Kalcedon muttered to me. “I’m not sharing a room with the Colynes terror.” If Oraik heard, he pretended not to. We left the inn.

The first order of business was buying Oraik a shirt that wasn’t ripped and bloody. He spent a half hour mulling over a merchant’s wares, and finally settled on the most expensive one the man had to offer, bright green and well-woven.

Next, of course, was the corridor. Everybody was masked and costumed—even I had to relent and get a face covering at the entrance we found. Oraik bought one for me at a shop that sold animal-masks, selecting a golden cat. Kalcedon scoffed, and muttered that obviously the owl suited me better. Oraik pretended not to hear, though from the set of his shoulders I was certain he had.

“This one is perfect. Thank you, Oraik,” I said, desperate to keep the peace. I didn’t miss Kalcedon’s sharp snort.

We descended into the dark.

The Masqued Corridor was interesting, though I didn’t think it deserved to be as famous as it was. The air was stale beneath the earth, and in some places choked with smoke from torch-fire. The passageways, carved by a great wyrm in the time before the Ward, were all too narrow for the dense crowds. I couldn’t keep from brushing up against strangers.

Little cave shops sold overpriced drinks, food, and games. A pair of old women hawked knitted shawls. A little down the way we saw a tatter-clothed man with an elaborate grimacing mask dancing for money. At every turn of the corridor someone tried to sell us something, and we could only move in fits and starts through the crowded passage. People kept bumping into me. I thought I was about to lose my mind until Kalcedon grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him, further from the rest of the crowd. I leaned into him with relief.

“War on Colynes might—,” I overheard someone say. Oraik immediately turned on the stranger.

“War? Did you say war?”

“Haven’t you heard?” The man had a long beard; his companion wore skirts.

“No, nothing.”

“They’re behind the broken stones. A Temple ship spotted faeries aboard one of theirs and managed to sink it. They’ve put out a call-to-arms for everyone to go against Colynes.”

“Do they know anything else? Has Colynes said anything?”

“Go ask around the shipyard,” the man said apologetically, holding up a hand with a polite smile. “Sailors have the best news.” With that the conversation ended.

I was relieved when we finally emerged up into the fresh air. We wandered until we came to a terrace overlooking the gorge. Oraik bought three cups of honeyed lemon juice, served inside hollowed-out colossal lemons, from a woman by the side of the road. We went to the wall to peer down at the raging water.

“I need to piss,” Kalcedon said bluntly, as he threw his empty lemon down into the distant water. He stalked away. Oraik placed his elbows on the wall and sighed dramatically.

“Please try not to let Kalcedon get to you,” I begged. “He doesn’t mean the things he says.”

“As if I care what a faerie thinks of me.” Oraik waved his hand. “It’s not that. It’s my family.”

“Oh.” I felt uncomfortably guilty for not thinking about that sooner.

“Not that I expected my father to love me. It’s not as though I like him. But…”

I knuckled my chin with a frown.

“Maybe he didn’t know about it,” I offered. “Maybe it was just that captain, Ozeri. Maybe she’s a traitor?”

“Gambler’s optimism,” he said morosely, and settled his chin into his palms with another dramatic sigh. “Why else do you think he finally decided to bargain me free?”

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