Mara stood still as a shoreside Penitent or a bowsprit maid. Then she shook her head, smile softer now and wistful sad, and walked away.

Kai sagged into her cane, but tensed again when Mara spoke behind her. “Get better. And be careful.”

“I’ll try.” She listened to the wind and to Mara’s receding footsteps. When only wind remained, she walked three-legged to the balcony’s edge. The cable car descended the slopes below. Through its window she saw a flash of blue dress.

Chapter 6

6

Izza tended Cat for three weeks. The woman slept for the first night and day, shaking and sweating in her nightmares. When she woke, she propped herself against a broken crate and drank water by the gallon. The only food she could bear was the blandest gruel, which was fine because that was all Izza could afford to bring her.

The next day Cat opened her eyes, and this time they focused, dancing around the room to settle on Izza. “I know you. Thank you for helping me.” Her voice had rough edges and a New World Kathic accent, all rhotic r’s and dropped g’s.

“Don’t get used to it,” Izza said.

“I’m not.” She reached for her pocket, and found a coin there. Izza had searched her, but hadn’t robbed her yet. Cat sank soulstuff into the coin, and flicked the coin to Izza, who plucked it out of the air. The woman’s soul burned going down. As it dissolved Izza felt Cat’s suspicion, and her hunger.

Izza knew hunger. “For saving your life?”

“For food,” Cat said. “Can I stay here awhile?”

“What’s awhile?”

“A few weeks. Maybe a month, worse case two. I need a quiet place to lie low. Then I’ll move on. It’s okay if you say no.”

“How do you know I won’t kill you while you sleep?”

“Have you tried?”

Izza crouched out of Cat’s reach, and watched her. Being watched bothered some people. Cat wasn’t one of them.

“What do you want?” Cat asked. “I can’t offer much. I don’t have any more soulstuff than what you’ve seen, and I won’t go into debt for you or anyone.”

Every cradle story Izza knew cautioned against pressing the issue of payment: travelers could be gods in disguise, or demons, waiting to avenge a breach of hospitality. Izza didn’t want much, but she didn’t know what a woman who fought Penitents singlehanded could offer. “I want off this island.”

“What’s keeping you here?”

“Only the ocean.”

“I can take you with me,” Cat said, but her voice failed and she had to breathe deep and gulp more water before she could continue. “I can take you with me when I go.”

“Stay then,” Izza said. “Until you’re well.”

The woman lowered her head and slept. As she slept, she began again to shake.