Page 26 of Forge the Blade

It wasn’t a classification. Or a victim designation. It wasn’t something that could just be removed. Nor, for the time being, was it something to be healed.

Nor was it a problem. If anything, it was a solution, one Rei had already created.

When the Merchari were gone . . . Ellisandre blinked slowly, thoughts sliding back in time. When the Merchari were gone, there would be things to grieve, pieces that didn’t fit, walls that had been built to keep out enemies that would impede trade. Like the ending of a war, when factories that had once made bullets no longer had work.

Ellisandre sat down on the end of the bed. Now was not the time to think back to the aching hole that killing their own father had left, how the world had drifted without meaning, empty and cold on what they had thought would be the most beautiful day of their life. They’d put years into that goal, crafted themselves into a weapon that could accomplish it, and then found themselves on the other side, a used-up weapon without a purpose.

They gripped the covers. That was what was coming for Sevastyan. For Rei. For even Lisa. The danger of leaning into a mission without hope of something on the other side. Lisa had made it clear, so clear. None of these three men had hopes or dreams of their own. They were so much deeper in hell, so much further gone than Ellisandre had ever been.

Defeating the Merchari was only going to be the beginning.

If they wanted Sevastyan in their life, then Rei would also be in their life. And possibly Lisa. The man seemed to have nothing else tethering him to the land of the living, except for perhaps a master who belonged to the ranks of the Merchari elite. A master he seemed to both love and loathe.

“Elli,” Sevastyan said.

Ellisandre blinked. They’d gone into their head and into the future.

“I’m here.” Ellisandre turned to Sevastyan.

“You were frozen. Did something happen?”

“Planning,” Ellisandre said. “We should all rest. Even if it’s afternoon. We can eat the baked goods for dinner around nine with the antibiotics.”

“You’re . . . not dressed.” Sevastyan’s face was wrinkled with concern.

“My house, my rules.” Ellisandre shrugged. “Though I’m revisiting those rules.” They took Sevastyan’s free hand in theirs and stroked the back of it. How did one make ethical rules in a situation lacking in ethics?

“I don’t know what rules we need now.” Ellisandre found themselves speaking without planning for it. “Lisa made me aware of dynamics that had not been considered.”

Sevastyan’s eyes widened and then his brow furrowed. “There’s no book.”

Rei sat up, pulling his legs under him so that he was on his knees. He said nothing and still Sevastyan turned to him. Rei kept his eyes down and his hands on his thighs, his knees parted.

The hair on the back of Ellisandre’s neck rose. Rei was offering something, without speaking. The what was not readable to them, but that there was an offer was clear.

Sevastyan laid his hand on Rei’s shoulder and stroked his back. Ellisandre watched. Again, a language for which they had no dictionary, only the supposition of context.

“If you’re going to continue to pierce the heart of the Merchari, you will all have to maintain the mental state necessary to pass as part of that world,” Ellisandre said. “Moving between roles is difficult. Sevastyan, you should consider yourself in this matter. I cannot merely disappear, and yet you must all maintain equilibrium until the war is finished.”

Sevastyan looked between Ellisandre and Rei, and then to Lisa. Unlike Rei, Lisa was upright and alert. He met Sevastyan's eyes. Again, there was an exchange Ellisandre could not pierce. They could make deductions, but those deductions carried no certainty or detail.

Sevastyan

Sevastyan’s stomach churned. Yesterday he had waited on his knees for his goddex to judge him. How could he speak the answers they now demanded? And even if he did, how was he to speak something that had been learned like breathing? The way one walked down the hall, the sense of command and deference that sorted men into the owned and the owning. He worshipped at Ellisandre’s feet. He belonged to them.

It was not the same.

There was safety in worship.

There was only utility and perhaps passing fondness in ownership.

And then there was the tangled web of oaths and survival binding him to Rei and Rei to him.

“Tomorrow. I can show you tomorrow,” Sevastyan said.

Ellisandre nodded. They started to rise. The soft light of the side table light played across their bare shoulders, showing how tight the muscles were held. They moved smoothly, but their face was turned away.

Rei’s hand gripped Sevastyan’s thigh and drew back.