Page 134 of Bride of the Enemy Alien

“No.” I nod. Then her good hand catches mine again. “But you can walk with me.”

I close my fingers around hers. Nothing wakes beneath my throat. Nothing answers from the sand. No machine measures the contact.

We move together. That is all. It is enough.

The return to the City takes longer than it should.

Aftershocks from the zemlja’s passage have broken two slopes and opened a crack across the old cistern path. Kessa reroutes us around both without slowing the main group more than a few breaths. When someone tries to carry her, she threatens violence. When someone suggests carrying me, I consider violence and decide I do not have the energy to make it convincing.

By the time the outer ruins rise ahead, the second sun has dropped low enough to stain every wall dark red.

The City gate is open and guards wait inside it. I know several of their faces. They know mine.

The last time I passed through this gate I was under watch. Later I escaped their custody and led an enemy away from their walls. Now I return covered in Krixian burns with one wing dragging and Kessa’s hand in mine.

The guards notice all of it. I watch, waiting for their response. Their weapons do not rise.

One of them looks to Syin, who nods.

“Open the inner route,” Syin says.

The guard hesitates. “For everyone?”

Syin’s gaze goes flat. “Everyone.”

Kessa makes a small sound that might be a laugh as the guard steps aside.

I cross the threshold. No cage waits on the other side.

People fill the street beyond. Water carriers. Children being moved toward sleeping chambers. Humans with ash on their faces. Wary Zmaj. A woman I do not know shouting at a male twice her size because he tried to take two bandages when he only needs one.

Kessa’s steps shorten. I feel the change through her hand before I see it.

“May I?” I ask.

She gives me a tired glare. “You are barely upright.”

“That was not my question.”

For a moment she looks surprised. Then she moves closer and puts her good arm around my waist.

“Fine. Mutual bad decisions.”

“Agreed.”

We make it six more steps before Merra finds us. She stops in the middle of the street, glaring at the two of us.

Her gaze goes to Kessa’s arm first, then my wing, then the burn at my throat, then Syin’s face as if all of this is somehow his personal failure.

“No,” she says.

Kessa blinks. “No? No, what?”

“All of it.” Merra points at Renn. “Workroom two. Get that arm cleaned properly.” She points at Syin. “Sit before you fall and make me have to do paperwork.” Then she points at me. “You. Table.”

“I can stand.”

“I can sedate you.”