Page 16 of Prometheus' Priestess

“Ya know, you remind me ofsomeone.”

“I do?” she asked, not particularlyinterested.

“Yeah, a woman I knew. Long time ago now. She looked at me like you’re looking at me now when she first met me.” Ralph pulled such a boyish scowl that Amara couldn’t help it, she laughed out loud.

“Aye, she did that too. Laughed like there wasn’t a care in the world. Usually because I’d done something daft.” He shrugged in a self-deprecating sort of way. He smiled, except the smile wasn’t for Amara this time. It was for the lady in his thoughts. One that put that far away look on his face. Amara felt her defences melting ever so slightly.

“When she laughed, it was like all she needed was the breath in her lungs and she’d have a life worth living,” he continued.

“That’s beautiful.” Amara replied, caught off guard by hiswords.

“Aye, her words not mine. I ain’t no poet.” He shrugged and took a swig from his can oflager.

And so that was how Amara and Ralph spent the rest of the trip to Edinburgh, sipping lager and making small talk about timespast.

“Wow, this place is … wow.” Amara breathed, trying to take it all in.

Ralph eyed her. “Alright, you’d think you’d never seen a train stationbefore.”

“Not one that looks like this.”

Where the glass dome made it feel like she was walking through a cathedral and the teal marble tiles gave Amara the impression she was gliding across water. Even the shops surrounding the main area of the station and the fast-food joint didn’t detract from the sense that she had just stepped through a portal fit for ... royalty. She wasn’t royalty, but the calming breath that filled her lungs whispered oneword.

Home.

A twinge of knowledge whispered in Amara’s ear but, as quickly as she became aware of it, it floated out of her head again. She knew after years of experience, grasping at the whisper would do no good. It would come back when she needed it.

“Are your sister and her kids here?” she asked Ralph, who was still standing beside her, a cargo green army bag slung over his shoulder.

He was shorter than Amara had realised when he was sitting opposite her, maybe only a couple of inches taller than her at best, though she was tall at five-foot nine. He wasn’t overly stocky either. Just an average height and average build for an average man, she supposed. He’d been good company on the trip though, apart from that initial faux pax, and kept her entertained with stories of what she could expect in Edinburgh.

“Nah, I’ll just hop in a taxi and head over to surprise ’em. Don’t suppose you know where you’regoing?”

Amara pulled what she hoped was an ‘easy-go-lucky’ traveller’s smile.

“No, but I’m sure I’ll figure itout.”

“Aye, why don’t you come with me? Just for a hot meal, like. Ain’t no hostel going to be serving food at this hour and you don’t want to eat alone. Plus, if you have a few drinks, you can have the spare room. I’ll crash on the sofa. I know ma sis won’tmind.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Nah, come on. I insist. Give yourself a chance to get a hot meal in your belly and find your footing before exploring our beautifulhometown.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose though …”

“You won’t be imposing. Come on, I won’t take no for an answer now I’ve thought about it alil’.”

Amara hesitated and he saw it, taking it as good as a yes, and practically ushered her out of the station, one pudgy, sweaty hand on her lower back.

It turned out his sister didn’t live too far away at all. Then again, from what Amara could tell from the taxi window, Edinburgh didn’t seem that big. Oh but it was beautiful though, even if they’d arrived on a cold, wet evening that promised this winter would be cruel. It was all the more dramatic for being lit up against shiny, wet pavements. The castle sitting on the top of the hill overlooked the city, an imposing draconian building that watched over tiny humans going about their business in the dark. The gothic architecture of the buildings, lit from within, cast dark shadows across the streets. Amara watched from the taxi window as people scuttled along the streets. The city was alive with the hum of activity that said this was a healthy population who felt safe with one another, even in the darkest of night. That was Amara’s first impression of Edinburgh.

It was not to be hersecond.

Pulling up at the end of a set of terraced houses several minutes later, Amara and Ralph thanked the taxi driver as they got out. Amara turned and stared at the small house in front of them. It certainly didn’t look like the four-bedroom terraced house her travelling companion had described. The light above the door showed that the iron black gate wasn’t rusty and the garden bushes were neatly trimmed. Even with little light, she could tell it was a house that was loved and well taken care of. Not what Amara was expecting from a single mother raising three children alone. She’d half expected abandoned bikes and toys strewn about, weeds sprouting where they could.

She internally scolded herself for her prejudice.

Opening the gate, which protested with a high-pitched squeal at its unoiled hinges that echoed across the otherwise empty road, Ralph only had to take three steps before he could knock on the door. He ushered for Amara to come stand beside him.

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