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“Is that enough to calm you down?” asks the man through clenched teeth as if my fall was his doing.
Not again. Not again.
The thought circles in my head, drowning out everything else.
Not again.
I pull away from his towering figure, staggering to my feet. He reaches to grab my arm, but I duck under it and come up on the other side. Before he can fully turn around, my fist is already flying. It meets his cheek with a crunch, and he staggers.
I howl, pain shooting through my knuckles.
“Haven’t you caused me enough trouble for one day?” asks the rebel, rubbing his swelling cheek.
He reaches for me again, and I pull my fist high. This time, he’s ready for it, and he catches my hand in his metal one. His grip is so strong, I fear my already bruised bones will break. He pushes me away, and my back meets the wall with so much force, the air whooshes out of my lungs. I double over spitting and coughing. I open my mouth and close it again, and the air is yet to find its way back into my lungs.
“What about now?”
I scramble away, holding onto the world with everything I have. I have to hit my chest a few times before the air finally rushes back into my lungs in a crushing wave. My head spins. I’m painfully aware that we are no longer alone in the alley, but I’m busy getting my breathing under control.
The man pulls me straight up by the collar of my kaftan. I tug on it where it digs into my throat, my fingers twisting on the chain Rev gave me. My skin burns as I tear the collar free and wheeze, crisp air rasping my throat. The rebel drags me toward the mouth of the alley, but I refuse to go anywhere with him and dig the heels of my boots into the stones as hard as I can. Hitting one pebble after another, my foot catches on some debris, and I can hear my already tender ankle crack. I howl in pain, but the man only tugs harder on the fabric that suffocates me.
The deep rumble of a voice breaks through our struggle. “That would be enough.”
The man stiffens with a groan and lets go of me. I fall on my hands and knees, tears filling my eyes. I don’t have to look up to recognize the owner of that raspy voice. Yet I do.
The wind plays with the neck of his shirt, revealing deep scars running from his right shoulder and to his neck, and then they are covered again. The tick of gears fills the silence as Valdus crosses his mechanical arms over his chest. His gaze locks onto my face, a frown drawing his brows together.
13
The man turns toward Valdus, his hands rolled into fists. “This girl might bring much more trouble than she’s worth.”
Valdus doesn’t answer. Cold seeps from his eyes as he traces the wound on my cheek. He takes a step toward me, but the rebel steps in his path. The glare Valdus shoots him would erase any remark blooming on my lips, but it doesn’t stop the man with the golden hoop.
“How much longer will you shelter her when it’s clear the emperor wants her back? How many more lives will we put at risk?”
“Sands.” Valdus rolls his shoulders. “You’ve gotten us into this mess, Numair. You tell me. What else must I do to make every party of this accord satisfied?”
The rebel clicks his tongue.
“Everyone is grieving today, but it’s not her fault,” Valdus says.
His words are a mystery to me, but with a huff, Numair turns away. He doesn’t look up when Valdus walks past, not even when he crouches next to me. Clicking his tongue one more time, the rebel stalks away from the alley and into the city while I’m still pinned in place by Valdus’s heavy gaze.
When the silence stretches to the last corner of the alley, Valdus finally offers me his hand. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, but it wasn’t an act of kindness. I let him pull me to my feet, but the pain in my ankle makes me waver. Without a word, he swipes me off my feet. I open my mouth in protest, but Valdus silences me with a glare.
The chimes of the clock on the barracks and the whistle of a faraway train chase us back to the house at the edge of the desert. Inara’s relieved stammer greets us at the entrance, but Valdus doesn’t put me down until we are back in the room I already loathe.
He steps away from the armchair, letting Inara finally see me.
“I have to clean the wound,” she says and disappears through the door.
I sink down into the armchair, bite my lip, and count the specks of dust on my boots, painfully aware Valdus is waiting for an explanation while I have none to offer.
“We’re trying to keep you safe. And you just…” Valdus doesn’t finish what he has to say and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Something inside of me bursts, and I jump to my feet. Pain rolls through my ankle, but I press even harder on it, the agony giving me courage. “You can’t keep me caged in here. I have nothing to do. Not a book to read, a sketchbook to draw in, nor a sword to train with. Absolutely nothing.” I take a deep breath. Anger pulses through my veins and spills into my words. “I’m not a tender flower you can lock in a room and hope it lives off the sunlight.”
Even if Valdus had anything to say, he doesn’t have time as Inara enters the room with a tray in her hands. Her gaze darts between us, both staring daggers at one another.
