The Infernal City Read Online Free Page B

spoonful and closed his eyes.
    “Better than Tenithar’s,” he said. “Always in the kitchen, weren’t you? You learned well.”
    “Do you know anything about this?” Annaïg said, a bit impatiently. It always bothered her, talking to her father, and she knew it shouldn’t, and that bothered her twice. But he sounded so soul-weak, as if most of his spirit had leaked out of him.
    “I wasn’t kidding,” he said. “You’ve been like this since you were children. I recognize a few words here and there …”
    Annaïg waved the old complaint aside. “This—flying city that’s supposed to be heading toward us. Do you know anything about that?”
    “I know the stories,” he sighed, picking at the stew. “It started with Urvwen—”
    Annaïg rolled her eyes. “Crazy old Psijic priest. Or whatever they call themselves.”
    “Said he felt something out in the deep water, a movement of some kind. So, yes, he’s crazy and the An-Xileel are irritated by him, especially Archwarden Qajalil, so he was dismissed. Butthen there were the reports from the sea, and the Organism sent out some exploratory ships.”
    “And?”
    “They’re still out there, looking for a phantom probably. After all, Urvwen has been spreading his message down at the docks. No wonder if sailors are seeing things.”
    “My cousin’s ship put to sea from Anvil three weeks ago,” Mere-Glim said. “He did not talk to Urvwen.”
    Her father’s face tightened oddly, the way it did when he was trying to hide something.
    “Taig!” she said.
    “Nothing,” he replied. “It’s nothing to worry about. If it’s dangerous the An-Xileel will meet it with the same might that drove the Empire out of Black Marsh and the Dunmer out of Morrowind. But what would a flying city want with Lil-moth?”
    “What do the Hist say?” Annaïg asked.
    The spoon hesitated halfway up to her father’s lips, then continued. He chewed and swallowed.
    “Taig!”
    “The city tree said it was nothing to worry about.”
    Mere-Glim made a high, scratchy humming sound and fluttered his eyes. “What do you mean? The ‘city’ tree?” He hesitated, as if he had said too much.
    “Lorkhan’s bits, Glim,” Annaïg said. “We’re not visitors here, you know.”
    He nodded. She hated how he was when he spoke straight Tamrielic. He didn’t sound like himself.
    “It’s just, the Hist, they are all—connected. Of the same mind. So why mention the city tree in particular?”
    Her father’s eyes searched about a bit aimlessly, and he sighed again. “The An-Xileel in Lilmoth talk only to the city tree.”
    “What’s the difference?” Annaïg said. “Like Glim said,they’re all connected at the root, right? So what the city tree says is what they all say.”
    Glim’s face was like stone. “Maybe not,” he said.
    “What’s that mean?”
    “Annaïg—” her father started. His voice sounded strained.
    When he didn’t continue for a moment, she raised her hands. “What, Taig?”
    “Thistle, this might be a good time for you to visit your aunt in Leyawiin. I’ve been thinking you ought to anyway. I went so far as to set aside money for the voyage, and there is a ship leaving at dawn.”
    “That sounds worried to me, Taig. It sounds like you think something’s wrong.”
    “You’re all that’s left me that matters,” the old man said. “Even if the risk is small …” He opened his hands but would not meet her eye. Then his forehead smoothed and he stood. “I have to go. I am called to the Organism this morning. I will see you tonight, and we can discuss this further. Why don’t you pack, in case you decide to take the trip?”
    For a moment she saw farther; Leyawiin was an ocean voyage away, but from there she could reach the Imperial City, even if all she had were her own two feet. Maybe …
    “Can Glim go?”
    “I’m sorry, I’ve only money for one passage,” he replied.
    “I wouldn’t go anyway,” Glim said.
    “Right, then,” her father