Free The Cedna (Tales of Blood & Light Book 2) by Emily June Street

“Will the sayantaq king show us more respect if we dress like his people?”
    “Dresses? Made from that flimsy material? What spirit is in such fabric to protect you? Your skins will keep you warm and safe wherever you go. If the sayantaq cannot see the sense of that, that is their problem.”
    I frowned. I hated to be chastised like a child. Was Inarian so strident that she could not see how odd we appeared to these people who enjoyed the softness of life more than its edges? Already in the market square I felt the weight of curious gazes, and the other shoppers gave us a wide berth.
    I turned to the fabric seller. “How much for the green and the black?”
    “You like my silk?” she asked.
    “What is this silk ?” I wondered aloud. I’d never touched a material so soft.
    “Silk,” the woman said slowly. “Mine’s made from the casings of the Vhimsantese butterfly, the ampara. I only sell the best. ”
    Fabric made from butterfly casings! Gantean butterflies lived short lives, seen only in the few brief moons of summer. “I’d like enough for two dresses,” I said.
    The seller cut off lengths of the silk for me as I counted out money from my pack beneath Inarian’s silent disapproval. She said nothing as we returned to the inn.
    Onatos awaited us in the foyer with two other men who seemed to be servants of some kind. “There you are.” He had eyes only for me. “Where have you been? I worried you’d left.”
    I lifted the bundles of silk. “I wanted fabric to make dresses.”
    “There’s no time for that,” Onatos said. “I’ve hired us private coaches to the High City. If you need a gown, you’ll have to buy the dress ready-made from a tailor in Galantia.”
    Of course he had a better idea. I should have asked him in the first place. I never thought to buy a dress already made.
    Inarian shook her head. “Only a fool would wear clothing stitched by a stranger’s hand.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Onatos scoffed. “Everyone wears clothing stitched by strangers’ hands. I’ll help you when we get to Galantia. Your travel clothes will suffice for the rest of the journey.” He took the silk from my arms and handed it to one of his men. “Now, where will you be staying in Galantia?”
    I looked at Inarian. Neither of us knew. She crossed her arms and faced away. I feared she had begun to doubt our mission.
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    O natos spared no cost for the caravan that took us to Galantia. He gave Inarian and me our own carriage with curtains that could be drawn to block out the sun or left open for fresh air. The vehicle was less comfortable than a dog sled, but I enjoyed the ride anyway.
    “I do not like this,” Inarian said as we approached the High City after several silent hours.
    “What?” I snapped. I grew weary of her endless anxieties.
    “This Onatos is too friendly. I doubt his good intentions.”
    “He has gotten us safely to Galantia.”
    “Why would a sayantaq lord want to help us? We are but two Gantean travelers to him.”
    “Perhaps he sympathizes with Ganteans?”
    Inarian only pushed aside the curtains to stare out the window.
    We entered Galantia through a route that tunneled beneath the city and spit us out again at the foot of the High Palace.
    I gasped. High walls enclosed the Palace in a hexagon. At the points of the hex, colored crystals rose into thick, sharp towers larger than any Kaluq rock spire. I shivered. Strong magic coursed through those stones; I felt it abrading the air around me. The Elders claimed those pillars had been stolen from Gante centuries ago.
    Our carriage had drawn to a stop. Onatos opened the door and leaned through it. “I must go to the Palace for a short while,” he said. “Would you like me to make a private appointment for your hearing?”
    “Yes, please,” I said, casting a wary glance at Inarian. I had not told her that I’d entrusted Onatos with the information about our mission.
    She sucked a breath and rested a hand on the bone hilt