Free The Floating Islands by Rachel Neumeier

much. Araenè made her tea with honey and lime.
    “Thank you, dear,” Mother said gratefully. “Such a nuisance!” But it wasn’t really the cough that made her restless, Araenè knew. Mother was worried about Trei, too—worried about how Trei would feel if he failed his audition, but also worried, mother-like, about the possibility that he might be hurt somehow during it. Sometimes that happened. Mother was probably even worrying a little about the dangers Trei would face if everything went beautifully, because being a kajurai wasn’t as safe as being a minister or a magistrate.
    “You ought to go visit Adeila Hanerè,” Araenè told her at last. “She’ll be worried for her own son. You can take her some of my bread.”
    “My dear,” Mother said gratefully, “that is such a splendid idea. But surely you would like to come? Teresna Hanerè is just your age—”
    “Teresna and I aren’t really friends, not as you and Adeila are. And you’ll want to stay all day, won’t you? I wouldn’t want to stay so long. I have work I’d like to do here. You know that’s what will make me feel better, really.…” Araenè eased her mother out the door, encouraging her to take Cimè to carry a pot of custard as well as the bread. Then she sent Ti out on an errand that would keep him out all morning and told him to take the afternoon off as well.
    Then, after the house was empty, she changed quickly into boys’ clothing and slipped out into the alley behind the house. She felt guilty about using Trei’s audition to make a free day for herself, but what use would it be to her cousin if she stayed home and fretted? And freedom was going to be so much harder to find now.… Araenè realized that she expected Trei to succeed today. She really did, and was surprised to remember her disbelief—all right, even disapproval—when he’d first suggested it. But that was before she’d seen how wind-mad he really was.
    There weren’t any famous lecturers scheduled for the day, and somehow Araenè didn’t really feel like going to the University anyway. She’d automatically turned that way at first, but then she found her steps slowing. The wide Second City streets opened out around her, inviting her to explore inward, toward the center of Canpra and the sea. Instead she headed toward the busy noise of Third City. There were booksellers … or she might find another secondhand boy’s shirt at a cheap price; she’d need another before too long … or she could look for odd spices; strange things from Yngul and other distant places sometimes turned up in Third City shops.
    She found herself relaxing as soon as she plunged into the narrow, angular alleyways of Third City. She hadn’t even known she was tense until she felt the knots at the back of her neck dissolve. A trio of girls younger than she hurried by, laughing and talking: Araenè looked after them for a moment, jealous of their assurance and freedom, and of their … togetherness, she supposed. None of the girls looked back. Araenè followed them slowly, wishing she was with them, one of them. Or, no, not exactly … but maybe wishing that Trei was with her. They could go see a play, even an informal street performance. Or just walk down random alleys and buy bread to feed the birds.
    Coming to an awkward intersection of seven alleyways, Araenè chose the one that looked the most interesting. Overhanging rooftops closed out the sky as she made her way down the alley. It was cooler in the shade, where only the occasional glint of sunlight made its way down to the cobblestones. Somebody had put a large tub of flowers where one of those unexpected shafts of light could strike it; the orange and gold flowers blazed like sunlight. A boy sitting on the steps outside one shop was sharing bread and dates with a white monkey, which sat on his knee and gravely accepted each tidbit. Somewhere a woman was singing.
    Araenè nodded to the boy, stepped around the flowers,