The Alcazar (The Cerulean Duology #2) - Amy Ewing Page 0,5

the center of the red-roofed structure with the words MARGORA DE ARBAZ carved above it. A woman in dark pants and a green vest eyed him as she twisted a sapphire ring the size of a walnut on her finger. There was a young man behind her about Leo’s age, with long brown curls and a slim figure. He wore a silk shirt open to his navel, and pants so tight Leo thought they must have been painted on. The woman whispered to the boy and he sashayed up to Leo.

“Looking for a date?” he asked coyly in Pelagan.

Leo had never been propositioned by a man before. “No,” he replied in Pelagan without even really thinking about it. Vada grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

“Stop that,” she hissed.

“Stop what?” he said. “I didn’t do anything.”

Suddenly, he was caught up in the crowds pushing and shoving to get through the arch, and he had to struggle to keep sight of Vada and her auburn braid. The white building was a massive portico that stretched out as far as Leo could see in either direction, its stone halls reverberating with the sounds of so many people. Then he emerged into the market itself and Vada was dragging him toward a golden building about the size of a small house, with a striped awning. Leo didn’t need to use his Pelagan to understand the sign posted on its face.

KROGERS—AURUMS

Vada turned to him, her voice low. “Okay, jackass, let’s see how precious this face of yours truly is. And act like everyone here is beneath you. Shouldn’t be too hard, no?” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as she started shouting, “Out of the way! Mr. Byrne coming through! Make way for the Byrne!”

Leo watched in awe as the crowds parted and people in line stepped aside to usher him and Vada to the front. Many of them looked at him wide-eyed or bowed their heads when he passed.

“Give me your money and let me do the talking,” Vada muttered as they approached the window. Leo quickly shoved a thick wad of krogers into her hand.

“Dorinda, you lazy bastard,” she said, slamming the money down onto the sill, “look sharp and change these bills at once!”

Dorinda was a rail-thin woman with a mass of bright red hair pulled back from her face by a band of mussel shells. A set of bifocals was perched on her nose and her nails were long, sharpened to points, and painted jet black.

“Vada,” she said, drawing out the last a with apparent relish, a sickly sweet smile spreading across her face then suddenly vanishing. “Get to the back of the line, you little shit. I told you last time, no special favors. I don’t care who your mama is. You want me to call the Misarros?”

Leo hid his shudder at the thought—he might look like a Byrne but there was no way he would be able to pass himself off as one once someone started asking questions.

“If you are wanting to call the Misarros on Mr. Byrne here, then by all means, go ahead,” Vada said. “I’m sure Ambrosine would be delighted to hear how her family is treated in this market.”

Dorinda started as she looked at Leo, then immediately adopted an obsequious expression. “In the name of the goddesses, I did not see you, sir. I will change these for you right away.”

Once she was gone, Vada grinned at him. “This is working even better than I had been thinking.”

Dorinda reappeared a few minutes later with a heavy leather purse that clinked as she set it down. “Would you like me to count them out for you, sir?”

Leo shook his head, then rested a hand on one hip and stared out into the distance, as if looking for something far more interesting. His father always did that when he was speaking to someone he felt was lesser than he.

Vada snatched the purse and tied it to her belt. “May the goddesses bless you,” she said to Dorinda.

But Dorinda was eyeing Leo with interest and he saw a disconcerting flash of recognition. “I was wondering, sir, if you could tell . . . it is being said that Ambrosine has cut off the passages around Culinnon, ones that lead to the Lost Islands. Does this mean she has found Braxos?”

The name Culinnon sparked something in his memory, but Leo couldn’t quite place it.

“I’m sure if Ambrosine wanted you to know what she was doing, she