Eye of the Ocean Book 3 Ji'jin Station

Eye of the Ocean – Book 3: Ji’Jin Station
scabs over boils and she remembered knowing before what he was and not
caring. He was excited now without knowing why, and she knew he wouldn't ever
look inside himself to see why. And angry in the same way. At her for pretending
to be what he knew she wasn't.
Dirt streets led to a cobblestone square, she recognized the bathhouse, the
doorposts were carved with dolphins, painted gray against green, the paint
flaking off. Blood spotted the steps; a bloody handprint marked the side of one
large fish.
She looked past her mind to Bolda, forced herself to stop whatever it was that
was happening. Her fingers had torn the heavy felt of the saddle; they only
started to hurt as she loosened her grip.
Bolda was still talking. “... arrive where you're already...” He stopped, staring
harder at her, but the exaggeration of his expressions had smoothed out. The
same moment, a different buzz than earlier started up but just as loud. This time
it was welcome.
Was this instant one of those choices, she wondered? But when she kicked her
heels to coax the mare forward, nothing happened except that the animal started
walking.
The world-altar. Ulanda didn't know what she had expected... from the road,
the building was just a wall lit by rows of torches set in the stone. Past the
massive gates was a courtyard with a stable to one side and more blank walls. An
arched door was around a corner and they were in another courtyard and she had
thought that was it, but they took yet another corridor, leaving their horses and
most of their guard behind. The corridor broadened out into a series of rooms,
nested into each other.
“Lost yet?” Bolda said in his usual loud whisper.
She shrugged. Yes and no.
A glance at Alicia, and he took her by the elbow, leaving the others. Her room
opened directly to a terrace but from the bright glare of the inside, all she could
see were the flagstones immediately under the cover of the roof overhang.
“Home for now,” Bolda said, folding the screen to the terrace back the rest of
the way. In the dry air was the scent of water. Wind and drums. They combined
to make a sound like river ice cracking in the thaw.
She pushed the screen shut that Bolda had just opened. He didn't appear to
notice, busy folding back the covers of the bed. “The bathroom's there...” He
gestured off to one side. “... don't worry about... hell, just get some rest.” His
eyes narrowed as he straightened. “You still hungry?”
She shook her head. She was numb.
“Well, Net access is a bit of a problem, but there'll be someone outside the
door. Ask if you need anything.”
Laurel Hickey www.2morrow.bc.ca