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I will figure this out.
She was a capable, centuries-old goddess. In two months, she’d learned how to shapeshift, thanks to her childhood servant, Gianna.
Picturing Marina, young and just as naïve, the day she left Kaimana to explore the Mortal Land, gave Naia the confidence she needed. If Marina could figure it out, so could she.
Straightening her shoulders, Naia took a moment to absorb the sights around her once more.
Naia hobbled across the deserted street to the sidewalk lining its edges, grimacing at the feel of mud that had seeped into her boots and nestled its way between her toes.
She padded down the slick pavement, finally finding shelter under an awning where she shook the rain off. As she peeled her stringy wet strands, clinging to her like seaweed, from her neck, the bold sign of an inn painted on a pale dwelling across the square caught her eye.
With a triumphant smile on her face, she braved the downpour towards it.
Vanilla infusing the air greeted her as she stepped inside. The honey glow of a solitary lamp and the wood furniture in the lobby gave off a cozy ambience.
Naia strolled across the creaky wood floor to the front counter. Behind it sat a man reading a newspaper.
He lowered it, revealing a deep-set of liquid caramel eyes, black hair resting on his brow, damp as if he’d ran through the rain recently himself, and a straight line drawn across his face as he took Naia in. Clearly unimpressed, and, by the looks of it, slightly displeased by her presence.
He resumed reading his paper. “What can I help you with?”
She glared at him, the ends of her strands dripping beads of rainwater on the counter. “Might you have any available rooms?”
The man sighed, folded up his paper, and set it aside to flop open a leather-bound book placed in front of him.
His finger ran down the list. “A room with how many beds?”
“One, obviously,” she drawled, sarcastically gesturing to the empty air beside her. “As I am alone.”
The man brought his eyes up from the record book to her. “For all I know, your husband could be out attending to your horse and carriage while you request a room.”
“That does nothing to explain your horrible greeting.” She scowled. “It’s completely understandable you have rooms available, given your hospitality needs work.”
The man gave a small laugh, sitting up straighter on his stool. “My, you’re a vicious one.”
Her eyes went round. “I beg your pardon?”
He let the cover of his record book slam shut, heavy by the weight of the pages. A gust of the aged paper and dust rushed up Naia’s nose. “It’s the middle of the night and you expect me to be jolly and wave at you in greeting? You either need a place to stay or you don’t.”
Naia blinked at him, appalled.
“By all means,” he continued, “if my hospitality isn’t up to your standards, you can head across town and request a room at the only other lodging on the island. Let the owner know Kaleo sent you.”
She scrunched her face. “Your personality is atrocious, Kaleo.”
“Yours doesn’t bring a smile to my face either, Miss.” He punctuated the statement with a fake smile.
Silent tension coiled in the air between them. The downpour roared against the roof of the building. While Naia didn’t have to worry about catching a cold, she also did not have any interest in trudging across the town in search of another place to stay and risk no vacancy.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Very well.” The words stung her pride. “I suppose I will take a room.”
Kaleo twisted around and plucked a golden key off a hook on the wall and dangled it on his pinky, just out of reach. “It’s a quarter per night.”
Money! Mortals operated on a currency system. Everything costs, she could recall Solaris telling her one time after exploring the land, displeased with it as much as she was now.
“I will pay my tab when I am ready to depart, if that is alright with you.” Her voice betrayed her and came out as a whisper. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin, speaking clearer. “I am not sure how long I will be in town.”
