Free Angel Arias by Marianne de Pierres Page B

Markes.
    ‘Tell us!’ demanded Liam.
    They crowded closer, appearing eager for news of the island.
    ‘There’s a Riper called Brand who challenges Lenoir.’
    ‘The Scar Lady,’ said Glev, nodding as though she knew more than the rest.
    ‘Yes. Her and another we call Modai.’
    Liam hissed. ‘Modai is the one who sent us to Danksoi.’
    ‘Modai withdrew all of you?’
    They nodded.
    ‘What happened? Why are you here?’ asked Naif.
    Their expressions became guarded and no one answered her question.
    Instead Glev pointed to Liam. ‘We help Lenoir. You take them through the wall.’
    Liam gave a slight nod. ‘Eat first then we go.’
    In one accord, the group sat down where they were, and Liam gestured for Naif and Markes to do the same.
    It should have been a relief just to sit but the silent watchful glances kept Naif ill at ease. Markes’s pensive expression told her he felt the same. Even so, he seemed surer of himself since returning to Grave, imbued with a new sense of determination.
    A thought struck Naif then. What if Markes had another reason for coming back here? Something he’d not shared with her? What if he didn’t really have a friend who could help them?
    As she considered that idea, a slight girl emerged from one of the drying stalls. She carried a large wooden board dotted with an assortment of food. Like the rest of them she bore a deformity, but unlike the rest, hers was on her face. She had an extra set of eyes low down on her cheeks. They blinked and watered and the effect was so alien, so repulsive, that Naif bit her lip to stop from exclaiming.
    The girl placed the board in the centre of their circle and retreated behind the stall immediately.
    Naif stared at the mix of seaweed strips, dough balls and an unrecognisable cooked meat on the plank of wood. The shape of the meat suggested one of the small creatures that lived on the grains that spilled from the Grave storage silos.
    That thought, and the sight of the disfigured girl, stalled Naif’s appetite.
    Liam pushed the wooden tray towards her and she took just a piece of fleshy grey seaweed. Markes did the same.
    The tray then went back to the middle and the rest of them fell upon the food, tearing the hot meat apart with their fingers and tentacles.
    The girl with the extra eyes returned with a smaller tray that held a collection of odd-sized containers. Liquid spilled from them as she knelt down.
    ‘Neva!’ Glev snapped. ‘’Ware!’
    The girl blinked nervously, her eyelids fluttering out of sync with each other. Naif tried not to stare but found it impossible to draw her eyes away.
    Conscious of the strangers’ scrutiny, Neva spilled more drink as she placed the tray on the floor. Glev slapped her across the back of the head for her clumsiness. She yelped and ran back to the stall.
    Naif’s heart contracted with pity for Neva, and anger at the way Glev treated her.
    Markes sensed her reaction and put his hand on her knee in caution. With his other hand he reached out, took one of the containers, and offered it to her.
    She took it and sipped slowly. It was Grave water; slightly brackish. On Ixion the water had tasted purer. Even so, it eased her sore throat and helped quieten her nerves enough that she could speak normally.
    ‘I’m from Seal South and knew nothing of your existence. Please can you tell us what you are doing here?’
    ‘We watch this place for Lenoir,’ said Liam after exchanging a glance with Glev.
    ‘Why do you do that?’ asked Markes.
    ‘So we have a place to go since our change. Here we are our own. Run ourselves. As long as we watch for Lenoir, he’ll keep secret we survived.’
    ‘What is the change? Do you mean . . . ?’ Naif touched her own hand, to indicate Liam’s tentacles.
    He bowed his head.
    ‘Did the change happen on Ixion? In the church of Danksoi?’ asked Naif.
    ‘’Nuff talk!’ snapped Glev. ‘You eat and go.’
    Liam remained silent at her order and the group fell back to