The Cat Who Knew How to Cry

5. THE PUNISHING CLAW (part 2)

The Alae female was standing by the column that she'd crashed into when Anar had pushed her away, rubbing her bruised side absently. She didn't even seem to notice the lacerations on her face.

She was petite, with the same bronze skin as him, dark-haired and blue-eyed. There was nothing about the stranger's appearance that gave away her social status: no markings or symbols on her clothes, no jewelry,no weapons. On her wide belt hung a soft purse, out of which peeked out the longed ringed trunk of a bottle with sanctified milk. Her dark pants boasted long streaks of dust, evidently from her wiping her dirty fingers on them. The tip of her nose was likewise laden with dust...

Her hairstyle was equally unrevealing – some locks were woven into two braids that hung over her forehead, passed under her ears and joined in a thick braid with the rest, combed neatly back. The stranger stuck the braid into her belt casually, but it still reached all the way to her knees, dangling behind her like a second tail. A hairdo so pointedly simple could only be worn by a priestess of the lowest rank, whereas the intense glow of her eyes revealed their owner's exceptionally powerful Cat's spirit. Someone like her would hardly dawdle among the statue wipers and temple cat belly-scratchers.

She, on the other hand, clearly recognized him, and was now peering into his face with what seemed like... hope? Her mute question seemed palpable: was everything others said about him true? Or was his entire life, his entire image of free thinker and reformer, nothing but a clever trap for dissenters, and now, ablaze with righteous anger, he would attempt to slay the violator of the local taboos? That look made Anar's heart skip a beat, for he himself had spent many long years searching the faces of his tribesfolk for the subtlest hints of discontent – a secret, inner indignation over the status quo here in Rual.

He had desperately sought others who were fed up as he was with this endless, senseless fussing over the stern and indifferent statues of Alasais; sick and tired of the unbearably dull sermons about the importance of reverence for the jealous goddess and unbending fealty to her order; appalled by a life that was overregulated to the last gesture and permeated with worship for the religious elite. The entire city was little more than an appendage to the temples... And to the endless intrigues and retelling of scary stories about the outside world, which was society's only form of entertainment. It was the very definition of tedium – rotten and inescapable, reeking of envy, hatred, sycophancy and arrogance. But, alas, he hadn't found a single kindred spirit in over three hundred years of searching.

And now, all of a sudden you fall out of the sky, Ms. Dusty Nose, Anar thought skeptically.

"Pass my admiration to Amialis," he spoke slowly, with emphasis. "This time she'd managed to strike a nerve. They gave you a topnotch face. And you're clearly a wonderful actress – to say so much with just one look, having never actually felt anything that your face is depicting... What exquisite facade! If not for all of her other agents, I would have fallen for it hook, line and sinker."

The stranger's eyebrows arched quizzically, though she didn't limit her reaction to that.

"And how many predecessors were there before me?" she asked without a hint of fear, but with a kind of empathetic curiosity.

"Nine. Only with your other colleagues she made the point to accentuate their... seductive elements."

"Ah, so I'm not pretty enough? Rats!"

"But now, evidently, mother is betting on your rich inner world, unappreciated in our cruel Rual," continued Anar, ignoring her mockery. "Which is pretty clever, actually, at least in my case. I wonder what took her so long to figure out the reason for her previous failures."

"And what is that reason?"

"She's too used to playing by the book, presuming that all Alae are alike, suffer from the same weaknesses, and want the same things. And her agents are exactly the same: blind and deaf on both ears. If only they were also mute... Now, I won't pretend that my time with some of them wasn't pleasant, at least until they would attempt their pathetic maneuvers."