The Alleluia Files (46 page)

Yet, before sunset, he spotted something even better than an Edori ship: a Luminauzi pleasure boat, stately, luxurious, six decks high. It plowed through the ocean at a deliberate pace, in no hurry to arrive anywhere; its passengers were the jaded, bored elite of a wealthy society, and for them, the journey was the entertainment.

“Jovah watches over us,” he murmured, spiraling down toward the massive ship. Its sixteen blue flags whipped smartly in the ocean breeze, flying from every protuberance and railing. “We’ll get a royal treatment here.”

Tamar, watching the great ship grow larger and larger, seemed less sanguine. “Are you sure? What if they have no room for us?”

“They’ll find room.” For a moment he took his eyes off his target and glanced down at her. “Angels are welcome everywhere, didn’t you know? Just because
you
hate us, you do not realize that everyone else in Samaria considers us precious and lucky.”

She rolled her eyes in disbelief but made no comment.

But he was right, of course; the whole population of the ship, or so it seemed, turned out to greet them as they landed. Tamar (who would have thought she was shy?) fell a little behind him, taking shelter in the shadow of his wings. Jared, on the other hand, gaily greeted the captain, the crew, the passengers who crowded up to ask where he’d come from and where he was headed, and could he stay the night? Could he sing for them? They had a little theater built right on the ship, they had been taking turns presenting their own skits and melodies, but to have an angel aboard, well, that would really be something special!

That easily was everything arranged. The captain led them to a grand stateroom, larger by half than the hotel room they’d been in the night before, and fitted with more amenities. Tamar wandered around it for a full ten minutes, touching the silk of the bed hangings, the porcelain of the sink, the highly polished wood of the furniture.

“Even in Luminaux, I never stayed in a place so fine,” she said wonderingly. “Is this how ordinary people live?”

“Well, not ordinary ones,” Jared replied. “But more than a few of the wealthy, yes. And this is nothing compared to the
luxury the Manadavvi can muster up. It’s a little wasteful, I have to admit, but it does feel wonderful.”

She nodded wordlessly.

He was disappointed, but not surprised, to learn that she did not want to accompany him when he joined the rest of the passengers for dinner and the evening’s entertainment. “Are you all right? How’s your head?” he asked, because he couldn’t help himself. But she seemed to have forgotten she had laid a prohibition on those questions.

“My head hurts a little. I’m tired,” she said. “If I could get something to eat, I think I’d just like to go to sleep.”

“I’ll have food sent down to you.” He hesitated, standing halfway between her chair and the door. “Would you rather I stayed here with you? I’d be happy to do so.”

She smiled somewhat maliciously. “Your public awaits you,” she said. “You can’t disappoint them or they’ll throw you off the boat.”

“I don’t want to leave if you want me to stay.”

She laughed at him. “Oh, Jared, oh please, I’m so afraid when you’re not by me,” she exclaimed, her hand pressed to her heart. He had to grin.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

If not for the nagging (and surely unnecessary) worry about Tamar, Jared would have enjoyed himself pretty thoroughly for the rest of the evening. The meal, served to him at the captain’s table, was the best he’d had in weeks, and the dinner conversation was quick, witty, and light. Afterward, nearly three hundred people adjourned to the theater built into the very heart of the ship—a professional stage, velvet-covered seats, acoustics as good as anything he’d heard in a Luminaux music hall. The angel sang for nearly an hour, a mix of sacred and secular songs that seemed to please his audience equally.

“Well, this has been the best part of the trip so far,” a young woman named Mira told Jared afterward. She and a much older escort had been seated at the captain’s table with him; she was slim, chic, bored, and beautiful. She had smiled at him covertly all during dinner whenever her friend had become engrossed in conversation with someone else. Jared suspected she was not an angel-seeker in the classic sense, but a woman who had no qualms about trading her youth and beauty for status and acquisitions.
“The rest of the entertainment has been quite dull by comparison.”

“Thank you,” Jared replied gravely. “I am so rarely able to outperform wealthy amateurs and the retired Luminaux musicians who sign on with cruise ships such as this.”

Mira narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decide if he was jesting or chastising her, but the captain interrupted them before she could reply. “Everyone has been raving about your singing,” the man said. “And those who couldn’t cram themselves into the theater are complaining loudly about what they’ve missed. Would you be willing to stay on board another day and sing again tomorrow night?”

Jared thought quickly. The ship cruised at a rate much slower than he could fly, yet it did go forward toward their destination. And the rest could not hurt Tamar, even if she insisted on staying cooped up in their cabin for the next whole day. And they were in absolutely no danger from Jansai, here on a pleasure boat in the middle of the ocean. “I hate to impose,” he said, just to make sure the offer was sincere.

“No imposition! An honor! A favor to me and my guests.”

“Then we’ll be glad to stay another day.”

After that, it was impossible to leave without tarrying for a drink or two, so all in all it was much later than Jared had planned before he returned to his stateroom. He crept in quietly, thinking Tamar must be asleep already, and she was. She had considerately left a small sidewall light on for him.

He trod silently to the bed and gazed down at her still form. Now he could study her with an intentness he was not rude enough to attempt while she was awake. Asleep, she was relaxed and unguarded, her face open and serene; there was none of that fierce suspicion that colored her every waking expression. She looked so young.

She looked so familiar.

The first time he had seen her, back in Ileah, he had thought hers was a face he should know, though he had put the thought down to a wayward fancy. Now he frowned, studying her more closely, running his eyes over the angle of her cheekbones and the shape of her closed eyes. She looked like someone he should remember, but he could not place the features. He watched her till she turned restlessly in her sleep, almost as if embarrassed
by the continued scrutiny, and then he shrugged and moved away.

There was a plush curved-back chaise lounge and a couple of armchairs in the attached sitting room, but neither of these would accommodate a sleeping angel. With a sigh of resignation, Jared plundered the pillows from the chairs and arranged himself as best he could on the carpeted floor, gathering his wings close about him for a blanket. He did not expect to sleep well but, drugged by exhaustion, he did; and it was full morning before he even stirred.

To find Tamar standing over him, arms akimbo, fully dressed. “That can’t be very comfortable,” she said. “Why didn’t you wake me up last night and tell me to sleep on this little curvy couch thing?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. “You looked so peaceful.”

“Well, I bet you have a horrible ache in your neck from sleeping like that all night.”

Jared sat up. Shoulders and arms a little stiff but the hard floor had done him no harm. “No, I’m all right. How are you? How’s your headache?”

“I feel fine, thank you for asking,” she said very precisely, as if, by pronouncing the words very clearly, she could impress the answer on his brain and prevent him from asking again. “How was your little concert last night?”

“Everyone loved me,” he said, hauling himself to his feet. He felt unkempt; he needed a quick shave and shower. “So much so that they invited me—us—to stay over another day.”

She gave him a darkling look. “And you said?”

“We’d stay. No reason not to.”

Tamar grimaced and shook her head. “Great. So we’re stuck here another whole day?”

“Are you in any particular hurry to get to Ysral?”

“No, but—”

“Then stop complaining. Try stepping outside of the cabin for a couple hours. You might enjoy yourself.”

She glanced down at her tunic and leggings, now wrinkled from a day of travel. “I don’t feel like I really fit in.”

Jared grinned. This was the first time he had seen her show an interest in her appearance. “I’ve no doubt,” he said solemnly,
“that there is a boutique on board that will be able to satisfy your every fashion requirement.”

She scowled. “Well, I don’t have enough money to spend on such silly things and I refuse to let you spend any more of yours.”

“Trust me,” he said. “It will be free, and given with delight. A small price for the shipowners to pay for the privilege of having an angel aboard as a special guest. Give me twenty minutes to make myself presentable and I will prove it to you.”

Tamar made a small sound of contempt but said nothing as Jared slipped inside the luxurious bathing room. Breakfast first, the angel decided as he shaved, and then they would see how the Luminaux merchants would outfit this vagabond girl.

The day that followed was one of the most pleasant Jared could remember spending in the recent months of his life. While Tamar commented in a constant, sarcastic undervoice on the superficial wasteful life of the Luminauzi elite, she could not help but enjoy some of the pleasures wealth could bring. She thought the food was marvelous, for instance, and ate heartily; Jared suspected that at many times in her life she had not had enough to eat, which explained both her slender figure and her appetite now. She was vociferously disdainful when they found not one but three boutiques on the lower levels of the cruise ship (although one catered exclusively to men). That didn’t stop her from going in and trying on fifty different outfits, by Jared’s count. The clerk at the second store tried to convince her to buy two complete ensembles—one for day wear, one for evening— but she resisted mightily until the woman came over for a whispered conference with Jared.

“Is she afraid of the cost?” the salesclerk asked the angel. “For the captain has assured me this is his gift to you in recompense for your wonderful conceit last night.”

“They’re free, Tamar,” Jared called out to her. The word felt peculiar and delicious on his tongue. Tamar. He had only addressed her by name once or twice before. “The captain’s gift to you. You’ll offend him if you do not accept at least two outfits.”

“I am not so greedy,” she shot back at him, but as she spoke she stood in front of a tall mirror, admiring herself in a gown of dark green. She had already chosen an embroidered silver
tunic and trousers (for casual wear, of course), but she seemed to be having difficulty parting with this number.

“We’ll take them both,” Jared told the salesclerk. “She’ll wear the silver now, and you can have the gown sent to our cabin.” He gave her the stateroom number while the saleswoman beamed with pride.

“We’re taking advantage of these kind people,” Tamar told him a few minutes later as they strolled around the upper deck and watched the ocean unroll beneath them.

“The only payment they want is a little graciousness from you,” Jared replied. “Do you think you can manage that?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” she growled. “I don’t think it’s in my repertoire.”

“Shall we practice before dinner? I’ll be the captain and you can be—well, you can be yourself. Can you give me a big smile and say thank you?”

She instead gave him a black scowl but was unable to hold the frown in place. Instead, an infectious laugh broke through. “Why, Captain! I do so much adore the beautiful new clothes! How can I ever thank you enough? Shall I come to your cabin in the middle of the night and show you the depths of my appreciation?”

“I don’t think you need to go quite that far.”

“No? Good thing we’re rehearsing this in advance or I would have committed a terrible social error.”

They were interrupted frequently by passengers coming up to thank the angel again for his concert and ask for an introduction to his lovely friend. Tamar never did more than smile and murmur a quick thank you, but that was good enough since the visitors really wanted to talk to the angel. She could not contain her edged remarks as soon as they’d drifted out of earshot, however, and her acid observations had Jared laughing helplessly more than once.

When Mira and her companion paused to say a few words, Tamar dutifully engaged the older man in conversation while Mira delicately flirted with the angel. As soon as the two had moved off, hand in hand, Tamar gave Jared a wicked sideways glance.

“I just had the best idea,” she said. “If you’re too uncomfortable sleeping on the floor tonight, I can think of a bed on this ship that would give you a very warm welcome.”

“I think there’s already two in that bed,” he said.

“How much would you like to bet,” she said softly, “that if you wanted a place on her pillow, she’d be the only one in that bed?”

“You’d lose,” Jared replied. “He paid for the cabin.”

“She’d still find a way. I’ll wager if you will.”

“You don’t have a dollar to bet with. Besides, the only way to find out is for me to try to seduce her, and I don’t want to.”

“Don’t let me hold you back,” she said, a trace of malice in her voice. “I’d rather sleep in the room alone, anyway.”

“I can’t think of circumstances,” he said in clearly enunciated words, “under which she would be my type.”

“But I know so little about you,” she purred, and she had gotten Mira’s inflection exactly. “What exactly
is
your type?”

Lost souls with the courage of heroines, he wanted to say, but did not. “Why, Tamar, I didn’t know you were so interested,” he said softly instead, as much for the pleasure of using her name as for the chance of provoking her. “You’ve never seemed too fond of angels, so I’d abandoned hope long ago, but if you think you’d like to please me—”