Cashan never believed that. He never thought we were too vile to save when he depleted his samay to protect us. Except, what do I know? He’s not awake to explain a damn thing.
“Izhi needs help moving the bodies outside,” I croak, seeing the need to address the issue head-on before a fight breaks out. If Tutay feels useless, then we’ll all suffer for it. Tutay’s head snaps to me in shock, and she begins to walk my way. I wet my cracked lips before continuing, but the bleeding girl speaks before I can muster the energy,
“Don’t bother stopping her. She needs to feel some control, to feel useful. We’re probably the best qualified to take it,” the girl gasps out, word by painful word. She’s breathing hard, no doubt going into a state of shock at the trauma her body is trying to survive. Yet she still spoke up, still taunts us, or…
The girl looks genuine, an authentic defiant expression on her face, so out of place with the rest of the cowards tied up around her.
But Tutay won’t see that when she’s blinded by anger.
“Speak like you know a damn thing about me again, and I’ll cut out your tongue,” Tutay growls, brandishing her knife. Tutay won’t wait for the girl to make the same mistake twice.
“Feline strength and speed will be really useful these first few days. We need you, Tutay.” Every word burns my throat. I hate the soldier girl. I hate that she saw through Tutay enough to force me to de-escalate.
Tutay cracks her knuckles and finishes her walk to me. The hot touch of her calloused hand on my cheek is always welcome.I know Tutay, though, so I’m not surprised when the touch turns bruising. She was acting like a caricature before, but this level of violence is authentically her. She grips my face with one hand, her fingers so tight they cause my teeth to cut into the skin of my inner cheek.
“The plan is to get out of here in less thana few days, and I refuse to hear anyone imply anything else. Even if it’s you,sumaq,” Tutay says, the soldier forgotten.
She loves to taunt me with that word.Sumaq. Beautiful. I should be the one calling her that. Her lips, plump from a bleeding cut and as dangerous as the rest of her, are close enough to mine that I inhale the deep breath she releases as she lets go of my face.
“You need to rest, not worry about organizing this mess or acting as some misguided hero. I’ll behave and go help Izhi just for your sake.” Tutay pats my right cheek twice, then walks out, winking at the mouthy girl still bleeding on the floor right before disappearing into the winding hallway system we’ve yet to fully map out.
“You’d think since she’s so desperate to be done with this, she’d be the first in line to do some real work instead of wasting time,” Qajay says, quiet and out of nowhere. I almost forgot he was here. He’s a silent watcher, never engaging in the drama but always ready to jump in and break up a fight.
He angles his body a single degree toward me. That’s all I need to know that he’s addressing me and not just talking to himself despite his soft voice. Qajay never whispers, but his words have a way of disappearing as soon as they’re spoken.
“She believes the only real work is the thing she wants to do but can’t,” I explain.
Qajay shakes his head, but that doesn’t stop me. It’s been two days since my throat has been strong enough to keep up a conversation like this. Being able to say what I think out loud isa privilege. I plan to take advantage of it. “The soldier was right. She needs to remind herself she’s strong enough to be useful. She did it by proving another’s weakness. That time wasn’t wasted. I’d go as far as to say she used it efficiently.”
He hums, then turns to face me head-on. I memorize the slight uptick of his mouth. It’s the prelude to a laugh I’ve only heard twice in the decade of knowing him. It’s my favorite expression on him, strong and real. With Qajay, I never know when I’ll be blessed with one again.
“I’ve missed your voice enough these last few days that I won’t make fun of you for immediately using it to defend her.Again,” he says.
This time, I smile, and he rolls his eyes and turns back to his work. I open my mouth to talk, but he shushes me despite not looking my way.
“I know. I know. You spend your time defendingall of usfrom each other. I’m just saying, she always needs defending more than the rest of us.” His feet are no longer turned toward me, his way of ending the conversation. He’s not mad, though. That small uptick is still there, only visible from the side because his shoulder-length dreads are tied back.
I close my eyes and slide down the north wall, succumbing to the strain in my legs. I lasted a long time. Paria’s been on her knees at Cashan’s side since we took the throne this morning. Hours have passed since we took the palace, and I know she hasn’t moved. The image of her forehead on the throne’s armrest is burned into my eyelids no matter how much I try not to stare. We’re both Serpent mimics, but she’s the healer. I’m expending as much samay as I can to communicate with him, but when the others force me to take a break, like now, I’m not haunted by the fear that resting could mean his death.
When Pucaru tried to move Paria an hour ago, Paria replied that she’d never lain on a finer fabric and she’d enjoy it to theend. What she doesn’t say is that she’d rather never lift her head, much less stand, if it means she’ll have more energy to keep him stable.
It doesn’t need to be said that the crushing weight of guilt over his sacrifice hangs above all of us. She knows we know and, despite how much we argue about it, that we agree. I hate that we agree. I know that Cashan hates that we agree.
When this all began, I was able to pass on those messages to everyone. I would repeat what he told me to the best of my abilities, half of my samay spent on pinpointing specifics rather than just emotions. I could tell he was upset when I gave him our daily report. It wasn’t until more strands of my hair were white than not that I knew he was upset about Paria’s state. It was all worth it in the end, because his anger, filtered through my ever-calm and neutral voice, cut through the silence his unmoving body smothered us with.
Now, there’s nothing to clear the air. The unsaid remains unsaid. Acknowledging what’s happening feels pointless when we won’t get his response to it. Everyone knows it, and now everyone is starting to act without restraint. Tutay is the most obvious, but from my vantage point outside looking in while I rest, I can see the tension building in everyone’s muscles. If I can’t report to Cashan, Cashan can’t draw the line, and his line is the only line that matters.
I like to believe we all respect each other, or at the very least, understand each other. None of that means we’re able to control each other. We finish jobs however we individually deem the most fun or efficient or outright explosive way to do it, and no one has the right to bother anyone about it.
We’re not together because we’re good people.
But as long as we don’t cross whatever line Cashan draws in the dirt, we’re a team. Sometimes, in the winter months whenwe’re all staying at whatever base Cashan has that year, I’d say we’re a family.
My breath catches in my throat at that thought. A family. Maybe we were, maybe we weren’t, but right now, even the label troupe of thieves is starting to feel forced.
I can’t help it anymore. I open my eyes and stand so quickly that black dots invade my vision. I stabilize myself with one hand on the wall behind me and take a moment to get my feet under me. Qajay is the only one in the room conscious enough to notice me, but he doesn’t give me any trouble. I stop by one of the trunks on the far wall. There’s a mace somewhere in this one. I just have to find it.
I dig past wrinkled and twisted together clothes, many made of the finest wool in the empire. We steal them more than we wear them. There are golden arrowheads and gems. This trunk is filled with non-necessities. Trinkets and luxuries. Every time we move base, we leave behind half of what we managed to hoard throughout the year. It’s a constant culling, the only survivors the seemingly nonsensical things we each find worth keeping. I keep it simple. I always grab my rusted and dull mace.
