I shrug modestly.
“Rottinggods.” She’s smiling, though. Shaking her head ruefully. “Always knew you were a gods-damned cheat.” She rubs her face. Trying to take it in.
“I didn’t tell you because—”
“I understand.” She waves it away carelessly, eyes wide as she thinks about the possibilities. “Gods’ graves. I can’t even imagine what would happen if people found out. So Tertius Ericius doesn’t know?”
I look at her. “If Governance found out, with the way things are in Caten right now, can you imagine what they’d start asking me to do?”
She shudders. Nods. “Eidhin?”
I shake my head. “That’s not a question of trust; I know he wouldn’t say anything, but …”
“But the fewer people who know, the better,” finishes Aequa with a slow nod. “I’d do the same.” Silence, and then she looks at me. “Anyone else and I’d probably report it, you know. That’s not a power that just anyone should have.”
I nod.
“Does this mean you’re less impressed with my Placement results now?”
“Somuch less impressed,” she agrees vehemently. We both grin.
There’s another lull in the conversation after that, but it’s an oddly relaxed one given the situation. I find myself glad Aequa knows. This ability has been a burden since the moment I found out about it and despite both of us being in Governance, the last few months have been spent largely separate, our private conversations brief and mostly related to planning today. This is the first time we’ve genuinely had a chance to talk, just the two of us, since the Iudicium.
“So which way do your nightmares go, these days?” Aequa asks it lightly, abruptly. Not looking at me. Her thoughts, apparently, running along the same track as mine.
I don’t answer for a few seconds as we emerge onto the path that leads to the ruins. “Naumachia,” I say eventually. “Sometimes it’s the Iudicium. Waking up with this.” I wiggle my stump. “But …”
“Me too.”
Silence again, and then I want to know. “You wake up in a sweat?”
“Curled up. And every muscle is sore. Like I’ve been fighting all night.”
I show vigorous agreement, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. “And I have that gods-damnedsoundin my head …”
She shivers and nods tautly, as if the very mention of it is too much. Perhaps it is. Neither of us want to think about it.
“I still don’t want to go to sleep, some nights,” she says eventually. She exhales. “But … do you ever wonder if we would have made it through the Iudicium, without it?” She looks across at me. “I think about it sometimes. A lot, actually. When we found that pile of bodies. Sianus and the others. I was scared, but …” She breathes out again.
“But it wasn’t the same.” I keep my eyes on the path ahead. I’ve thought about it too. “Wasn’t hopeless. We had choices.”
“We had choices,” she agrees quietly.
I push a branch from my path, am about to continue the conversation when I feel it. That same, strange sensation in the back of my mind. Like my sense of Will, but not quite.
It’s close, too.
I hold up a hand, brow furrowed, bringing Aequa to a stop and listening.
“What is it?”
“Not sure.” I peer into the brush. Tracking the sensation in my head. It’s a hundred feet away. Moving parallel to us.
Then it seems to pause.
Then it’s coming toward us.Fast.
“Look out.” I snap the words and self-imbue, gesturing Aequa behind the nearest tree on the opposite side of the path as her eyes go black as well. I can hear the crashing of bushes, the cracking of branches. The foliage trembles.
