Greeting them was the chubby, bowlegged innkeeper with an unctuous face, who offered unblinking smiles galore.
He spoke to them in rehearsed length about all sorts of sundry things about this small town.
The inn itself had a large window that overlooked it in its entirety.
He pointed to each structure and revealed what it offered, big or small, yet seemed to miss everything except for the large, pretty building, which lay in the center that Salīa had been the most eager about.
Each time she tried to ask him about it, he pointed to a neighboring building instead.
Just like a lover whose tongue goes too right or too left, missing the spot she'd enjoy most, even with direction.
So finally, she did all she could by moving his head so that it had no choice but to acknowledge where she meant.
"What about there?" she pointed.
"Oh," his face flushed. "It's a flower house. But such places aren't really for a woman. And I'm sure your husband—"
"Brother," Bazil said quickly.
"Oh, brother. Of course."
The innkeeper trailed his eyes over their differing skin tones, eye color, and the shapes of their noses to their ears.
"In that case, I could have someone guide you when it opens. Are you interested?"
Bazil's glower plastered his face – one that clearly read, "Does it look like I'm interested?"
The innkeeper could only gulp and walk them along.
"Let me send my wife to help you get settled, and I'd be happy to have someone list all you can do while you're here."
As the wife took over, the innkeeper could be heard muttering to himself, "Why do all the crazy, mad ones come to my inn?"
It seemed the woman had a more neutral look, but couldn't disguise her smile as Brazil arched his brows inquisitively, an unhappy expression sharp on his face.
The room itself was spacious enough. But it was undeniably…bare.
It was here the woman stepped forth, holding up a list, and in a crooning tone she must've used many times, she asked, "Would you like some water for the room?"
"Yes," Bazil said as if it were obvious.
"Fresh or reused?"
Salīa and Bazil glanced at each other. Reused?
"Fresh," Bazil said at once, not even mildly interested in entertaining whatever answer would come to their question.
"Very well. That will be…" she showed him the amount. "Do you need towels?"
"Preferably."
"Cotton or linen?"
Bazil lifted his head curiously, seeing from her tapping her list that this would need to be paid for.
"Whichever is fine."
"And for a fire?"
Salīa noticed the small fireplace in the alcove.
"Will you bring us wood?"
"Certainly, we can provide any of the listed hardwoods according to your price preference and or capability. Our best is the sekel—"
"Whichever," Bazil cut her off, feeling his annoyance seep through his tone.
This only deepened the woman's smile as she ticked off the priciest wood on her list.
"Would you like the wood chopped or unchopped?"
Bazil glared as if he were about to chop her off.
She nervously laughed, then said, "It was just a light joke, of course. And for bedding, we have…"
Bazil sighed, looking at the nearly empty bed.
"Anything," he smacked a hand to his forehead. "We just need a spare pallet, please."
"Of course. For that, it will be…"
Bazil's eyes nearly popped out its sockets, as did Salīa's the moment they heard. They both knew it was an incredulous fee, especially for a land hidden in a small, hidden crevice in the realm.
Bazil was tired of all this and so reached into his pouch, yet Salia shook her head.
"There's no need for a pallet."
The innkeeper's wife almost revealed her glare, yet suddenly got an idea and flashed a crafty smile.
"We also have a lover's box which has smooth wine, sensual chocolates, and some fine oils to rub on your lover's—"
"Stop," Bazil said, trying to temper his scolding tone, boiling more and more by each moment.
"Thank you," Salīa added quickly. "We'd just like the other things for now, as he needs some rest."
The woman stared without speaking, but it was clear from her pinched lips that she thought they were just some cheap foreigners, despite how much they'd already spent. Even so, she smiled brightly.
"Of course. Let me know if you need anything else."
After she dropped her money-hungry innkeeping role, she returned to just being an ordinary woman, letting a new thought dawn on her as she looked at them. She wondered what was wrong for this man to dare request a spare pallet.
At first, she thought he was being polite, but he didn't seem that polite.
Then she thought maybe he was impotent, but looking at Salīa, the innkeeper's wife thought that if she were a man, this lady would certainly be able to raise any part of her body from just a glance.
Maybe it's because this lady isn't a man herself, the innkeeper's wife decided. Yes, that must be it. No wonder he didn't get the lover's box. But does that mean he's going to sleep on the floor, or does he expect her to?
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
She suddenly felt sorry for Salīa and returned with a bowl of dried fruits and some sweetened cacao for her, while only offering Bazil a turn of the nose.
"What a scam. I can't believe this is the inn Sibusiso recommended."
Salīa tried to suppress a laugh. Sibusiso was the eldest of the brothers, but also the biggest joker of them all.
While a formidable leader within the zazi, he had a resting smiling face that invited plenty of chuckles throughout the day.
"He can't even see his prank being played out, but I'm sure he'll be laughing himself out of breath when he gets a letter from me."
That sounds exactly like Sibu. But I wonder when they spoke. It's been a while since either of us received letters.
I wonder how Salazā is doing.
Her eyes swept through the window, overlooking the small village-like land called Chiro.
Wind-soft whistles skidding through the air, while arrogant, boastful ones burst through it. There was a mix of lands that seemed to form this one.
The plants and materials for homes were distinctly Salazāhn. The foods and distinct decorations were demonstrative of the unique Timbana architecture.
The number of stalls and lively flow of coin from place to place, and the fast-paced trading and tarrying amongst the people were reminiscent of Palosa.
Yet even with all that, this land was still not much of a land at all. Not all maps regarded it, and while they did their best to demonstrate their pride by planting carved-out bats for their totem animals, lots of the places were chipped and rusted, with patina seeming to be the trendy pattern all around.
She noted the one place that seemed to shine even under the darkening skies. It was that place in the center that was far enough to not look like it was directly linked to Chiro, but close enough that one could ignore it.
There was no red rose seemingly painted on it, which was common for such establishments to signal their under the rose principles – ensuring utmost confidentiality. She couldn't even see as much as a front door.
I wonder if it's right around—
"Don't even think about it."
To her side was Bazil, staring blankly at her.
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I know back home you like to visit all sorts of…curious places…" his lashes fluttered. "But we are not home."
"Some of those curious places carry the best clues."
"Līa," he said firmly. "It's no time for jokes."
"I'm not joking."
Before he could counter, instinctively ready to scold, she laid her cacao before him and then shoved a dried pear from the bowl and pressed it to his lips.
Only after he shook his head at her teasing eyes did he talk. He knew she knew how amenable he could be with her, and so all he could do was sigh and lie back.
"There are some zazi stationed near here who returned from the lower land by Bhuan, Foloh. Even though Sibu was teasing me, Tau did reassure me that this inn was quite protective of its guests, so you'll be safe. But if you ever feel that you're not…"
"I can fight too."
"Yes, I know," he took her hands, still displaying glints of panic in his eyes. "But even so, if you feel you're not…I want you to tune into your other voice, only enough so that you can call out to me."
"Magic?"
Bazil flinched at the word.
Ever since he became a zazi, he'd been quite rigid in upholding all manners of law. Especially ones that easily granted execution.
Yet here he was hinting that she shouldn't hesitate to partially attempt transcendence – to unite with her ancestral animal – and roar out to his ancestral animal – if she felt even a slight threat.
Even speaking of such an act was harshly punishable.
"It's not completely against the law," he murmured.
"Then why are you speaking so softly?"
"Even as zazi we have an unspoken rule that—"
Salīa placed her hand over his mouth. It was to quiet him, yet she was soon distracted by the warmth of his breath and wetness of his lips as he pressed against her palm.
She pulled away, rubbing her palms together as he licked over his lips.
"I'll never lead you astray," he promised, straightening his back in resolve. "You know I'd never advise something to you that I couldn't protect you from."
She knew it to be true.
If Bazil was encouraging her to disobey a law, even one as long-lasting and firm as this one, it meant that he fully intended to take on and defend her from any consequence that might come from it.
"Just promise me you'll call out to me," he pleaded, his voice low and serious.
I know that roaring out to him might be the only way to let him know, but how could I risk it? Also, it's not like I really know how to transcend.
Shifting one's shape – contorting from human to beast – merging one with their totem, it's a dangerous art kept in the clutches of our ancestors. I'd be lucky to not go berserk just trying to get a squeal out.
But still, she nodded.
"Only if you promise to do the same if you need me."
He knew she was trying to make light of it by provoking him. But kept his eyes level to hers with unwavering earnestness.
"I'll be fine," she hugged him. "Just make sure you are, too."
He leaned into the hug and wrapped around her. Just then, there was a clearing of the throat.
The woman had returned, having peeked at them holding each other. She cocked her head to the side as they pulled back.
But nothing was said as she made the bedding, occasionally peeking at them. Bazil was visibly irked by this but kept proper throughout.
Then she stared at him when done, waiting. It was only when he realized she was waiting for a clearly nonvoluntary gratuity that he growled.
"Thank you," Salīa pressed the payment into her hands, and the woman nodded before leaving.
"Līa…"
"Didn't you say this inn is quite protective of its guests? Surely, we shouldn't take that much for granted."
He didn't waste much time countering, looking out to the dark blue skies that soaked in all the purples left by twilight.
"I'll try not to be long. Don't forget."
"I won't," she took his hand.
He almost held it but hesitated, kept glancing at her for a while, then disappeared.
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