Villainous [Wattys 2021 Shortlist]

11: The Delta

The southern shore of the Delta slid out of the mist, a ghost-town, a skeleton of buildings. Clutching a cloak around her, Delilah was enraptured. The entire port was on stilts. Everything was made of wood. Roads were rivers, paths were bridges. People in furs rushed to and fro with baskets, some hopping nimbly in and out of their boats, climbing rope ladders with ease that suggested they had been doing it since birth. She thought of the Fire Opal, and how easily they could use it to decimate everything.

Dante stood beside her with both their bags slung over his shoulder. The sailors were running around, tossing a rope towards the docks where a helper tied it securely around a post.

A rope ladder was thrown down from a wooden walkway. The sailors would be unloading their cargo on the docks, so it would be safer to go straight up.

She grasped the rungs and climbed unsteadily. The throbbing of her wound mimicked her own heartbeat, but to her relief the scabs didn't crack and she reached the top safely.

Aki was already there, steadying her as she tried to adjust to the solid bridge. "You'll get your land-legs back in no time, don't worry."

Dante climbed up next.

"Come on," Aki said. "My father is going to oversee the cargo transfer but we can go home straight away."

He led them into the bewildering world of walkways and water. Sea mist lay low over the rivers, making things seem eerie, distorted. The tang of salt and fish made Delilah wrinkle her nose, and she hoped it would become more bearable the further they went from the sea. She gazed curiously at all who passed her, taking in their outfits.

Aki eventually unlocked the door of a large but rickety-looking house. The rooms were dim, lit only by a couple of lamps burning fish oil - the pungent smell slammed into her, making her want to retch - and watery light filtered in from outside.

A woman, her face and hands weathered by work and time, straightened up from the stove when they entered. "Aki!" She swept him into a hug. "Where's your father? And who are these guests?"

Delilah looked away uncomfortably, not wanting to meet her inquisitive gaze.

"Pelenans. They had a bad run-in with soldiers."

"My name is Lila," Delilah said, "and this is Dan." Well, they were half-truths. And the names were so common that no one would guess who they really were.

"I am Anyu," she replied, shaking their hands warmly. "Well, if Tarrak has told you you can stay, that is fine by me. Although we might have to scrape together whatever money we have..." She hesitated, glancing at her son.

"The trade went very well, Mother," Aki said, although Delilah caught the faintest hint of worry in the tightening of his mouth. "We can support two more, at least for a little while."

Once again, Dante and Delilah found themselves depositing their bags in one small room.

"I'm sick of seeing your face," Dante muttered. Through the thin door, they heard Anyu busily preparing a meal.

"Tell me about it," Delilah said sourly.

"At least when we get back to Irkalla, we can have privacy again. How I miss the Imperial Suite."

She rolled her eyes. "You're the one who made me come with you, anyway. So what's the plan? How long do we stay?" She lowered her voice to the faintest murmur.

"We eat, find new clothes, and disguise ourselves as natives." Dante's matching soft rumble ran along her bones like thunder. Delilah felt like shivering, but held herself still. "Then we kill them. They've looked at our faces for far too long already."