Angel Arias by Marianne de Pierres Page A

authorisation does Seal Raspart have to be stepping out free with Lenna Markes?’
    ‘Her parents have given visiting rights with her new family.’
    ‘That sounds a fancy story. Bored with your Seal wife already, Lenna Markes? Are you hoping to tryst with this girl behind her back?’
    One of the other wardens gave a snigger.
    No! The word rose from Naif’s throat and vibrated on her tongue, but she clamped her lips together. Seal girls did not speak when they were outside the compound. Her mother had drummed it into her often enough.
    ‘She’s my cousin, warden. And a Seal. If I was to tryst behind my wife’s back I would not be so stupid as to bring the girl here.’
    ‘He’s right, on that, brother,’ said another warden.
    But the sharper one with the protruding ears was not convinced. ‘You are hiding something, Lenna Markes. I believe your family is no longer to be trusted.’
    ‘Warden, I –’
    Markes stopped mid-sentence.. The posse of wardens suddenly surrounded Markes and Naif, pulling free their prodders from harnesses in their belts.
    A terrified moan slipped from Naif’s mouth and she barely registered the dead cart that rolled up to the gate.
    The lead warden turned to her, lifting his prodder menacingly.
    Before he could use it, a commotion started alongside them. One of the horses from the dead cart began to whinny and buck against its harness, flinging clods of manure in their direction. The wardens scattered to avoid being hit. The horse then reared and plunged towards them.
    Markes grabbed Naif’s hand and hauled down on the gate lever. As the segments of the gate squeaked apart they ran through. She glanced back at the cart and saw Liam’s face peering out from beneath the axle.
    ‘Come on!’ cried Markes.
    He ran so quickly that she lost sight of him around a street corner. Markes!
    The wardens blew their whistles and Naif panicked, ducking into a closer laneway which twisted off in a different direction. She heard the wardens’ whistles following Markes and kept moving away from them.
    But after a few streets she stopped and looked up at the rooftops. Markes had said to go to the prayer space under the northern arch.
    She tried to calm herself. The whistles had not come closer. She was safe for the moment.
    In one direction she saw an arc of light rising above the buildings. That must be the arch. She began to walk towards it.
    Gradually, she began to take stock. The homes she walked past were grand, though not as elaborate in design as Ixion’s spired and columned churches. They seemed to have more grace and style than the stark, grey, flat-roofed homes in Seal South. Mostly two storeys, their frontages were well lit by large, ornate lamps. Some of the lamps took the shape of sacred dolmen, while others were wrought iron and fashioned as sets of praying hands. The light bled through the fingers in slivers, striping the gardens and the street.
    Naif kept to the deep shadows and when she found an alcove that housed an iron message box, she knelt down behind it to rest and think.
    First, she unbuttoned the top of Toola’s coat. The temperature was many degrees warmer here. She remembered the freezing long winters in the Seal compound and how she’d shivered through her lukewarm baths. Why was it that the Seal Superiors thought the cold made you a better, purer person? Why did they believe pain and discipline were the only way to be worthy? Now that she had lived on Ixion, those rules seemed so . . . harsh. Pointless.
    As her panic subsided, Naif realised she was thirsty. It was a long time since she’d shared food with Liam and Glev. And she’d only eaten a tiny portion of seaweed anyway.
    Liam must have followed them from the crypt, she thought. He’d scared the horse to stop the wardens taking them. If he hadn’t done that . . . Naif sighed. Liam had been right. They shouldn’t have walked the streets. Even at night.
    She wished she could tell Suki that the boy she’d