Page 23 of Skysong

Andala stopped short at the sight of the man.

‘Is something wrong?’ Oriane asked.

‘No,’ she muttered. ‘Come on – Madame Mil’s is just past him. Don’t pay him any mind.’

But Oriane couldn’t help glancing over at the stranger as she followed Andala’s purposeful stride. And the moment she made eye contact, he pounced.

‘Madame,’ he cried. ‘Madames, both of you! You look as if you move in high circles – surely you have heard of the king’s latest quest?’80

Oriane frowned, slowing her pace.

The man must have seen the curiosity on her face. ‘Yes, yes! They say he has joined us at last – that he is a believer after all!’

‘A believer in what?’ Oriane asked. Several paces ahead, Andala stiffened and turned.

‘In the Order of the Sky, of course!’ Eagerly, the man shoved a leaflet into Oriane’s hand. ‘In the skysingers! The winged goddesses who make the world turn!’

Oriane’s heartbeat seemed to slow. Time slowed with it, until she felt she hung suspended there in the alleyway, quite outside her own body, looking down upon her frozen form, the leaflet stilling in mid-air as it fluttered from her fingers.

‘Come on, Oriane.’

Time caught up to itself at the sound of Andala’s voice, the touch of her hand at Oriane’s elbow. The short man whirled on her instead as she tried to guide Oriane past.

‘Areyoua believer, madame, like King Tomas? Do you know of the legends, the myths? They are all true, and now the king himself knows it! He seeks the nightingale – I have heard it from a palace insider myself. Take one of these – it has all the details of our next meeting—’

He thrust a leaflet towards Andala as well, but she snatched it and threw it to the ground. All Oriane could make out on the paper was some kind of circular design before Andala tightened her grip and guided her forcefully away.

‘We do hope to see you there!’ the man called after them, unperturbed by Andala’s behaviour. ‘In the meantime, may you feel the guidance of the goddesses’ wings!’

Oriane still felt removed from her body. She barely took in their surroundings as they entered the tucked-away teahouse, barely heard81the tinkle of the bell above the door, barely smelled the fragrant aroma of tea steeping. It wasn’t until Andala had sat her at a tiny table in the corner that she revived somewhat.

‘They know about me,’ she whispered, half to herself.

‘No, they don’t,’ Andala said sharply. Then, to the hale-looking old woman who had appeared beside their table, ‘A pot of jasmine green, please. A large one.’

The woman drifted away, and Andala turned back to Oriane.

‘They don’t know about you,’ she said, her tone a little softer now. ‘Not you specifically, at least.’

‘Who are they?’ Oriane breathed.

Andala fiddled with the lace tablecloth, twisting its edge between her fingers. For a moment, Oriane thought she was not going to answer. But finally she spoke.

‘They call themselves the Order of the Sky. I don’t come into the city much, but I’ve heard other servants talk of them. There must be more of them now. I’ve never seen them proselytising on street corners like that before.’

‘But what do they believe in? Me? He kept sayinggoddess– winged goddess … And he said something about the king – that Tomas was seeking thenightingale…?’

The proprietress returned with a large pot and two delicate cups. The tea was the palest golden green, and a delicious scent filled the air as it was poured, helping to settle Oriane’s nerves. Andala thanked the woman, who winked at them both in turn and slipped away without a word.

Andala took a slow sip of her tea before she spoke again. ‘He was right about that. The king was seeking the nightingale.’

Oriane paused, her cup halfway to her mouth. What were the exact words he had said?Thewingedgoddesseswhomaketheworldturn…82Goddesses. More than one. She set her cup down, some of the liquid spilling over into the saucer.

‘The nightingale? Andala … is theresomeone elselike me?’

But Andala was already shaking her head. ‘It’s only another part of the legend. The nightingale is supposed to be another bird – well, another woman who can turn into a bird, like you. She is meant to call the night, just as you call the day. But there has never been any evidence that such a person actually exists. The fanatics from the Order think they’re two goddesses, who live eternally in service of the skies, or some such. Doubtful, really, when you think about—’

She paused at the look on Oriane’s face.

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