The Unforgiving Moon

56.

We had crossed through the city, until we had reached the port. Or, at least, I thought we did. In the near distance, I smelled the overpowering scent of fish. It was nauseating, especially on an empty stomach.

Aven hadn't said a word ever since we had set foot outside Lisa's house. Cailean had walked with us at first, indulging in idle talk, before we had parted ways, too. We'd be needed in different parts of the city for our tasks, and I was stranded with Aven, who was still seething after we met with Lisa.

"There's a market nearby," Aven said eventually, after the silence had become heavy and draining. "There will be something for you to eat there."

I nodded. "Why didn't she give me breakfast?" I asked.

Aven sighed. "She's not happy about your presence, that's her way of showing it."

"She's not happy about yours or Cailean's either, yet I was the only one without food," I muttered. The dinner yesterday hadn't sufficed to undo the building hunger I'd gathered during our trek here, and by now, my stomach was aching.

I knew this feeling already, hunger and starvation had kissed me before in Spitta. A place I'd vowed never to return to. As it turned out, I didn't have to. A visit to Oxyn did the trick just as well.

Aven turned and glared at me. "What do you want me to say, Sari? Just because I fucked her Moons ago does not mean I understand her every motive."

I gulped. But our bad moods could be damned, because the smell of the market neared—and Moons, it was heavenly. The fishy smell of the port grew distant, and instead, I reveled in the scent of freshly baked bread, pies, herbs, and spices I didn't even know, everything at once.

The first stalls appeared, and the grey streets were covered in many different ones, all draped with tarpaulins that protected the city from the burning sun.

Reds, oranges, yellows, purples, and greens all floated above my head as I walked through the market, vendors and merchants screaming about their good prices to anyone who'd bother to listen.

Spitta often had a market, too, but it was nothing in comparison to this. Oxyn's market was much, much bigger—it stretched for endless streets. As I walked past other stalls, I could no longer see where the market began or where it ended.

Aven slipped away from the corner of my eye, as he made his way over to one of the stalls. The vendor he talked to had a heavy lilt, but spoke our language fluently enough to sell his produce.

They exchanged coin and food—Moons, I'd even forgotten about my hunger—and Aven walked back to me.

"Try this," he said, as he handed me the food he'd bought.

It smelled delicious, but I didn't recognize what it was. It looked like some sort of ball, a dough of some kind, topped with different types of crispy seeds. And when I took a bite, I couldn't stop a small moan from slipping out. Aven chuckled, and I was too consumed by this food to think about why he was watching me so intently.

The outside had this perfect level of crispiness, but the inside of the ball of dough was filled with cheeses I didn't know, meats, and spices from all over the world.

"What is this?" I asked, my mouth still full.

Aven shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants; which made him look more casual and nonchalant than I'd ever seen of him. "Some kind of local food from a land far, far away."

I raised my brows. "It's delicious."

"I've had my cooks in Rahas try to replicate it, but it's never been as good."