Page 97
Story: Minor Works of Meda
I cleared my throat.
“You know, I think we ought to go to Rovileis after all.”
“Really?” Oraik said, faking surprise.
“It’s the safer option,” I said.
Kalcedon planted his elbows on the table.
“I disagree.”
We both turned to look at him—at the flat mask covering his face.
“Really? But… if Meda thinks its safer…” Oraik started.
“She told me what you said,” Kalcedon informed the prince.
“Meda!” Oraik turned on me, eyes wide in disbelief.
“Anyways, if you really don’t want to go to Rovileis, I don’t blame you,” Kalcedon muttered. He folded his arms across the table, pushing back his plate. “Terrible city. And the three of us, you know… we can manage. So you don’t need to worry about that.”
With a loud scrape, Oraik pushed his chair back from the table, leaned over, and grabbed Kalcedon in a hug. The half-fae flinched away too slowly as I watched in awe. Kalcedon squirmed, but Oraik held tight.
“That’s enough, you can let go,” Kalcedon growled.
Oraik held on a moment longer before he relented, grinning.
“Thank you, truly,” Oraik said, as he brushed back one of his curls and folded his hands in his lap. “But it's what I want. I lied—I was at the harbor. A warship came in last night. Apparently, a mask seller at the docks reported seeing a faerie…”
I shot Kalcedon an alarmed look. He shrugged.
“Anyways, they’ll escort me,” Oraik finished.
“We’ll come with you,” I offered instantly.
Kalcedon shifted in his seat. Reaching forward, he cut a slice of the egg dish and levered it onto the serving knife.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said.
“But didn’t you just say the three of us—?”
“I was trying to be kind,” Kalcedon said. We both stared wide-eyed at him. He sighed and continued: “it’s better if we meet him there, where it’s more fortified. Everyone was staring at the two of us yesterday, not at him. Scrying for him will point straight to us—so if we’re on a different ship...”
“To be clear,” Oraik said, “I didn’t stand out yesterday only because I am not a witch. My obvious beauty is not in question.”
Kalcedon snorted. I knuckled my jaw with a frown.
“I don’t like it,” I admitted.
“I’ll be fine. So long as I’m not eaten by any sea monsters,” Oraik said. “And you don’t have to meet me there.”
“We will,” Kalcedon said, before I could answer. We both looked at him. “You’re Meda’s friend,” he muttered. “Besides, we’re going to live there. So she can make everyone at the Temple realize how bad at casting they are.”
“That’s not why,” I told him with a laugh, but for some reason the dream—as long as I’d held it—felt stale. Oraik grinned and grabbed the last piece of bread, then stood. Just like that the meal was over. And with it, our time in Koraica.
We said farewell at the inn and took separate paths to the crowded harbor, so that Oraik would be harder to track. When we arrived the Cachian warship was still there, waiting at the far edge of the longest pier. We took seats on a wall of barrels, and I watched without looking directly at the ship.
“It’s nice you were finally getting along,” I said after a moment of silence.
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