Omari was inside kneeling on the floor, Big Ears laid out before him. The rebel grimaced with pain as Omari applied pressure to the wound in his stomach. Rae dashed over to them, tearing off her bloody robes.
“Will he live?” she asked, dropping to her knees beside them.
“I can’t say.” Omari’s voice was laced with anger and anxiety. “But I dare not call on the healer. Even if he is a good man, he’s sure to ask questions, and I don’t know if he can be trusted with a secret such as this.”
“How about your parents? Can they help?”
“The less they know, the better,” Omari replied, echoing what she’d said to her own father. “I don’t want them involved.”
Big Ears waved away their concerns.
“You’ll call no one,” he barked, his voice full of gravel. He glanced over at Rae, his eyes twinkling with mirth despite what must have been excruciating pain. “Figured you’d be pleased to see me cut, girl, after the one I gave you.”
“All is forgiven.” Rae put her hand over his. “Just don’t die. Who will menace the new rebels if you do?”
Big Ears laughed, and a fresh spout of blood poured from the wound. He moaned.
“Be still!” Omari commanded. “If we can stanch the bleeding, you may survive. Good for you and good for us too! It would give us a lot less explaining to do come tomorrow.”
The man nodded and closed his eyes. Soon, he was either unconscious or asleep, and didn’t stir again while Rae helped Omari pack and wrap the wound with fresh cloth. But still, he breathed.
When they finished, they both went to the basin to wash the blood from their hands. In the quiet, the frenzy of battle began to drain from Rae’s veins, and the reality of what had happened fell upon her. She felt overwhelmed. Exhausted. Numb. Her hands shook uncontrollably.
Omari, on the other hand, was luminous with triumph.
“We did it, Rae,” he said, leaning against his worktable. “We took their power, and we burned their house.”
“We did.” Rae knew she should feel the same—after all, the mission had been a great success. In fact, using the naft probably sent as strong a message to the High Khetarans as the stolen weapons. It was what needed to be done; what no one else had the courage to do.
It was your fault the guard woke up.
Clearly unsatisfied with Rae’s response, Omari went on. “Don’t you see? Tonight, Sakesh burns bright with the fires of vengeance!”
“It does,” Rae said, glancing back over to the sleeping rebel.
It’s your fault that he might die tonight.
Omari’s eyes were alight. “It was exhilarating, wasn’t it? Finally getting the chance to give those cursed High Khetarans what they deserved?”
Rae nodded.
You killed that soldier.
You crushed his skull.
Your robe is soaked in his blood.
Rae was no stranger to violence. She knew what she was getting into when she’d joined the Horizon. And she’d been the one to encourage the rebels to mount this attack. It was the right thing—the only thing—they could do to fight back.
But she’d never taken a life. She’d never imagined how that might feel. She’d had no choice, of course—it had been the soldier’s life or hers. But still… she couldn’t stop thinking about the shock and blood splatter on his face when he died, and the weight of his lifeless body.
Stop it, she told herself.You’re supposed to be stronger than this. This is war. How do you expect the men to respect you if you fall apart after the first battle? A battle we actually won?
Omari didn’t seem to notice the internal struggle going on in Rae’s mind.
“This is the beginning of our journey back to greatness, Rae,” he said, glancing out the window to the starry night beyond. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Have courage, damn you, she thought, and stood a little straighter.
