Page 83 of Tempest

“I know, Kitten.”

For a brief second, Cat shut her eyes and tried to forget, as if the last few years had never happened at all. She clutched at Ana like another weary traveler seeking sanctuary or absolution.

In truth, Cat knew she would find neither in this place.

* * *

“I THOUGHT I was finished climbing.” Cat’s breathing came hard and harsh as she did her best to keep up with Ana’s relentless pace.

Above her, the woman did not break stride, her breathing offensively quiet as they ascended the spiral of stairs. Cat expected Ana to have lost some strength, but her years at the church, climbing the bell tower and the steep jungle path, seemed to have made her fitter than ever.

Frowning, Cat clutched at the handrail, using it to leverage herself up. “Can you slow down a little?”

“No,” Ana replied with a grin.

Another breath heaved through Cat’s teeth. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I didn’t know you were capable of staying in one place this long.”

Or serving in an Esperese church.

Ana did not answer and Cat studied the walls instead, tracing the carvings that spiraled with them. They were more visible inside the tower, better protected from the elements. The old stone was cool under her fingers, cooler than it should have been, soothing as a wet cloth on a fevered brow. Her memory of the grander tower in Nera was shaky, but the patterns seemed to match, albeit in smaller form. She did not know the notes each braiding curve represented, but imagined a song priest singing them, a hand on the carving, reading the stones as he loosed the melody of them.

Ana knows, Cat thought, watching the Arcayan woman run a finger along the curves, tracing them as someone would a page in a book.

That quieted her questions a little.

This place is holy to her too.

Cat reached the belfry sweating and panting, the humid air making her more uncomfortable. She all but ran for one of the open archways and braced herself, leaning out into the breeze coming off the sea. Below, the southern coast of Prospera splayed out, vibrant green against brilliant blue.

From this height, the boats in the harbor looked like toys, perfect miniatures. Far less intimidating than the real thing, and yet still a sight to behold. She squinted, trying to spot the Fledge. She knew better than to hope Fell might abandon her on the island, but she scanned the breakwater for his vessel anyway.

Her eyes snagged on the newer song tower, the white stone like a finger bone sticking up from the waves. Again, she puzzled over it and the presence of an Arcayan priest here in a foreign city.

“I’ve seen many strange things, but few stranger than a song tower in an Esperese harbor,” Cat murmured, still fixated on the port. “I assume you had something to do with that.”

Across the belfry, Ana smirked. She leaned against the iron bell occupying most of the space, half of it covered in rust. Cat doubted it could even ring anymore.

“Hardly. I am but a sister of the Church, low in my station,” she answered. Something twinkled in her eyes, betraying a secret she would not bare. “I know little of the dealings of great men, the Esperese or my kin.”

You know far more than you let on, Cat wanted to scoff. Instead, she shrugged around at the chamber, eyeing the carvings with a sharp look.

“Strange, to build a song tower below when one already exists here.”

Ana only shrugged, hip balanced against the bell. “The Church does not relinquish its grasp easily. Even on ruins.”

That was true enough. The Churches of the Continent were just as voracious as the Crowns, if given the chance.

“It’s good to see you too,” Cat offered, wiping the sweat away from her brow. “It’s good to see you alive.”

The implications and words unsaid hung heavy in the air, almost close enough to touch.

It is good to see you alive when so many are not.

“We’ll drink to them,” Ana said softly, edging around the bell to reach a small cabinet in the corner. She produced a dusty bottle of thick red wine and tucked it into her elbow, then plucked two glasses, one of them cracked at the lip.

Cat watched in silence as the other woman navigated without issue. When Ana offered a glass, Cat took it gladly. Silently, they drank to all the dead they shared.

The wine had a sour edge, too dry for Cat’s liking, but she drained the glass. Ana did the same, quick to pour another for both of them.