The Alcazar (The Cerulean Duology #2) - Amy Ewing Page 0,66
Sera.”
Vada put a gentle hand on her shoulder but Agnes shrugged it off. She didn’t want comfort right now. She didn’t know what she wanted.
“I do hope to see you again, Agnes,” Matthias said. Then he grinned, quick and catlike. “The semester begins at the end of the month.”
Agnes managed a nod and left the library in a daze, Vada following close behind. She walked down the steps back to their waiting metapar on wooden legs, climbing into the seat as Vada said, “Take us to the Street of Lies. Bas’s Secret.”
The cart lurched forward. Agnes was dimly aware of the streets they wound through, but all the colors and sounds blurred together.
“This isn’t how I wanted it to be,” she said after a while. Her voice was thick with emotion. “I was supposed to deserve a spot, not have it gifted to me because of my family name.”
“Hey,” Vada said. “Do not be so cruel to yourself. You are the smartest person I know, Agnes McLellan, and one of the bravest too. Your grandmother did what grandmothers do—she tried to take care of you. Adults are not always knowing what is best for us.”
Agnes shook her head. A tear slid down her cheek and Vada brushed it away with her thumb, a simple gesture that held more meaning than Agnes could put into words. True, her acceptance was not what she thought it would be. But Vada was here, Vada was touching her, comforting her.
“I am thinking you will be making one of Pelago’s premier scientists,” Vada declared.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Perhaps. But why would that mean it is not also true?”
Agnes gave in to the smile that rose up inside her and allowed herself to melt a little into Vada’s arms. She could feel Vada’s heart beat against her shoulder and it was exciting and calming all at once.
There were other things to consider anyway, she thought as the cart bumped along the streets of Ithilia. Her grandmother had attacked that princess. Leo and Sera were safe for now. She hoped Vada knew how to get to Culinnon. Her stomach pinched at the thought of this mystical island she never knew existed that would one day be hers.
She wondered if Ambrosine knew her estranged son was working for a member of the Triumvirate. Probably—her grandmother seemed like the type who knew everything.
The metapar rolled to a halt and Agnes looked around. They were on a narrow street lit with colorful paper lanterns. Wild music spilled out of the crooked restaurants and bars that lined the cobbled road, and the people here were dressed in slinky clothes and seemed like the sort who would not be out of place in Old Port’s East Village—artists and musicians and philosophers.
“Where are we?” Agnes asked as Vada jumped down to pay the driver.
“The Street of Lies,” Vada said. “Bas’s Secret is one of my favorite spots in all of Ithilia. They have the best plum wine in Pelago and I am thinking we could both use a drink.”
Agnes allowed herself to be led into a bar with no sign, just a painting of Bas above it, the goddess reclining naked, her long black hair covering her more sensitive parts, her red skin shining dully.
Inside, everything was red and black. Red painted walls with black tables, lamps with red-and-black checkered shades perched on each one. Smoke swirled through the air and there was a small stage in one corner with a jazz quartet playing. The bar itself was fashioned out of a coffin, Agnes realized, which seemed awfully morbid yet also appropriate for a place named after the goddess of death.
“Vada,” the bartender said with a smile as she approached. She was a wizened old woman with gnarled hands and a gold tooth. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen your face around here.” She eyed Agnes curiously. “Who’s your friend?”
“We need a table and to use your washroom, Neve,” Vada said.
The bartender laughed. “I could smell the sea on you when you walked in the door.” She reached behind the bar and handed Vada a small silver key. “Lock up when you’re done.”
The washroom was tiny and cramped, with only a sink and some towels and a bar of patchouli-scented soap. Vada stripped out of her vest and unbuttoned her shirt before Agnes even had a second to think. She turned away quickly, her face hot, but not before she caught a glimpse of Vada’s lean torso and