Chapter 62: Her Mother’s Daughter

Chapter 62: Her Mother’s Daughter

They arrived at Salts Mane on the teeth of the storm, banking west of the plateau, out over the open ocean. The caravan was only a few miles behind them, but making it to shelter ahead of the truly drenching rain was a perk of being Late Wake. Staring at a cliffside bristling with arrow slits big enough for ballistae was not. Two bells had rung on their approachtwo, two, wings in the blueand it was taking a great deal of effort on the Ladys part to convince the ringers of their harmlessness. The black spots on their white bodies, Aaron could not help but think, would make excellent targets for an ambitious marksman.

Their bell tower was an odd one, and not just because it was the only building to jut up above an otherwise grass-topped cliff; the salters homes had never crept out of the protection of their plateau in the way those in Onekin had. It didnt just have a bell in it: it had a fire, amplified by some kind of glass, which Aarons owlish eyes in no way appreciated as the storm settled in darkly around them. Rose had called it a lighthouse. Those inside were shuttering the flame in a series of signals that the Lady responded to with dives and wing-flashes that, at great and very wings-thoroughly-sodden length, satisfied those within. The two bells were recanted, the new tolls swallowed up by the nearing thunder. Those inside rang it again, for good measure: six, six, Late Wakes tricks.

The Lady dug foreclaws into the edge of the tower itself, and rolled into that shelter already a human. She waved at him from in front of the light. It was the cheerful wave, of a woman who was already drier than she had been, and knew for a fact he couldnt copy her trick.

It wasnt that he lacked grace in the air. He was perfectly used to accounting for elevation in his navigation, thank you. It was just that even after weeks of practice, his wings still felt extra. Arms and legs had always been enough to get him up and down in the caves, and a part of him still felt that four appendages were more than enough. Well, five; tails were acceptable, and largely minded themselves.

Aaron considered the roof of the lighthouse. Then he considered all the stairs between where the Lady stood and the actual plateau, and opted to land on the cliffside, instead. It took a bit of scrabblingclaws were not as dexterous as fingers and toesbut he got a good enough grip to lift a paw free and bat at the clasp of his cloak. And then he was a tiny human, clinging to a sheer rock face with a very far drop below, and if it wasnt for all the wind and rain it would have felt like home. He clambered up to one of the oversized arrow slits, and hooked his elbows on the ledge just under the ballistas iron arrowhead.

Mind if I come in? he asked, because the people inside had faces on like theyd appreciate a moment to process his appearance. Not many others coming in this way, then.

Give im some space, boys. Looks like weve got a Late Wake kitten on our hands. One of the people inside stepped forward. A woman. Tall, broad in the shoulder, and grinning. Said grin was missing a tooth to the side, possibly from the same fight that had left a crick in her thick nose. Need a hand?

Thanks, Aaron said, who didnt, but clasped his hand around her wrist anyway. She pulled him inside with very little regard for either his weight, the weight of his entirely soaked cloak, or his surprised yelp.

The woman caught his shoulder with one steading palm, and shook his hand with the other. Lorell Martinson. Captain of the Guard. You got a name, Lord Kitten?

Aaron. He returned the handshake, and tried to straighten himself up. And a little more. Nope. He was going to be at least two heads shorter than her, no matter how tall he stood. Were all salters this tall, or was that a family resemblance he saw? Any relation to a Mabel Martinson?

Her grin grew wider. It was two teeth she was missing, not one. She eating right? That girls the daintiest flower to ever walk on two legs; dont ask me where she gets it from. Youd think a scribe could send her mother a letter once in a while.

The Lady chose that moment to enter. Captain Martinson released Aaron, and clasped wrists with her, rather heartily.nove(l)bi(n.)com

Welcome back, Lady. Took yerself the scenic route this year? Not often the Havens beat you here.

Always a pleasure, Lieutenant Martinson. Or are those captain bars I spy?

The captain winced. Unfortunately. Captain got caught out in the first town skirmish. Just visitin friends; no sense to it. But dont you be always-a-pleasuring me, Lady. Whered you get yerself an apprentice? Specially one as tiny as this. Not enough fish in the capital, thats your problem. Fill em up with fish and theyll grow strong as sea serpents.

Did that work for your dainty daughter? Aaron asked. And got a hand the size of a dinner plate assaulting his hair. Squirming did little to dissuade it, and the length of the captains arm proved greater than Aarons stride as he attempted to step away.

Please unhand Journeyman Aaron. The Ladys carefully composed expression could have been hiding anything from irritation to amusement. Aaron hoped for the former, but suspected the latter. Hes like a son to me.

The servant stopped by a door. Knocked, and announced him, and politely ducked away before his sister had done more than respond.

Coming, she said, and her voice wasnt anything special, wasnt anything hed have recognized out of context. When she opened the door, he found her to be as short as he was. Gray-eyed and black-haired, with the same southern-leaning features as their father. There was something of the Lady in her cheekbones, or maybe her mouth, but hed not have seen it if hed not have known.

Markus, she said, and he couldnt read her.

Adelaide, he said, and figured that any nerves he showed would just sell the act.

She stepped aside, and that was definitely the Ladys quirked eyebrow she was giving him. He entered.

The rooms shed been given werent overly large, but they were certainly spacious enough for one person. They had one of those balconies hed seen during the approach, as well; the door out to them was wood with thick iron lacing. Decorative, yet practical; it would take more force to break through it than most things could bring to bear. Things that could then fit through the doorway, in any case. He went to stand by it, because hovering by the hall door felt too much like signaling his readiness to run away. But he did like the idea of being near an exit. Besides, it had a little window he could pretend to be looking out, even if all he could see was sheeting rain and the occasional sky-searing flash of lightning.

Markus, she said again. Then closed her eyes, and took a breath, and let it out again. She was wearing a coat like their fathers; white outside, with a red inner layer. A sword like the dukes, too, with its hilt hewn from some creatures body. Where Duke Sungs had the natural spiral of a unicorns horn, hers had a curve to it, and carved-down nubs where there had once been branching antlers. Kirins bone, the chill under his own flesh confirmed. A knife hung on the opposite side of her belt. It wasnt quite the Ladys dagger and rapier, but it was close.

She only had one arm. Her right ended just above where the elbow should be, her clothing tailored to cover the stump as gracefully as such a thing could be covered. He felt like that was something he should have known, that his older sister only had one arm.

Markus, she said, for the third time. I am going to yell at you. Rather a lot. But first, I would like to hug you.

Thats fair, Aaron said, more to the first part than the second. And then he was getting hugged. Which wasnt a thing that people just did to him, outside of a select few, but he did enjoy it. He hugged back, his two hands gripping at the back of her coat, as her one hand did to his, much more tightly.

You had better have a good reason for all this, she said, tucking her chin over his shoulder. And it had better include an equally good reason for not telling me.

I really couldnt have, Aaron said, which was an absolutely true statement, one that her kirins antler hilt could not dispute. Since he hadnt met her until now, he couldnt have told her a thing. He tried resting his chin on her head, because that seemed the natural thing to do, but they were too close in height for it to be comfortable. He settled for mirroring her, his chin on her shoulder as well.

Her breath hitched. She shifted a bit, her hand dropping from the back of his coat even as the stub of her other arm kept holding him close.

Markus, she said. Youve grown shorter.

Ah.

Who are you? she asked into his ear. It was a mild enough question, made pointed by the knife she pressed into his side. Right below his ribs, at a neat angle to acquaint itself with his lungs.

Competence, Aaron realized, was a terrible trait in a sibling.