Page 31 of Ship of Smoke and Steel

“Only that it’s probably bad news,” I tell her. “Come on, let’s see if they’ve left us anything to eat.”

It turns out there’s half a bucket of crab juice, still as delicious as ever in spite of being only lukewarm, and most of a loaf of stale bread, plus canteens of freshwater. We eat in silence. I spot the Moron, out on one of the little islands, sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed. Berun doesn’t seem to be around. No doubt hiding somewhere.

Halfway through her second helping of crab juice, Meroe drops the bowl and swears. I look up to find her clutching her hands together, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Are you all right?” I say.

“It hurts, is all,” Meroe says. “I’ll live.”

I look at her hands, and remember her grabbing the sword-tentacles of the blueshell, pushing them away as blood ran down her palms. The twisted place in my chest gives a twinge, like a cracked rib.

“It’s probably time to change those bandages,” I tell her. “Do you have any fresh ones?”

She nods, uncertainly. “Sister Cadua’s people gave me a bag. Over here.”

I pick up some canteens and follow her back among the nest of carpets. There’s a hollow space where it looks like she’s been sleeping, with the blood-spattered dress I’d first seen her in lying crumpled beside it. She produces a bag of reasonably clean linen strips, and I gesture for her to sit down. I kneel in front of her, and start untying the strips that bind her palms.

She winces as I work, looking over my head. After a while she says, “I thought you were angry at me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because of what I said about Zarun.”

“I’m not angry.” The knot is tight, and I’m tempted to just slash it with a Melos blade. Instead, I tease it gently apart. “I just wanted you to understand. I’m not—”

“A good person,” Meroe says wearily. “You mentioned.”

“It’s more than that. Where I come from, the streets of Kahnzoka, it’s not so different from this.” I get the knot untied, and unwind the tight linen strip. “I had to hurt people to survive there, and I’ll have to hurt people to survive here.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“No. Grow up the way I did and it wouldn’t bother you, either.” The last of the bandage is stuck to her skin with dried blood, and I grab one of the canteens. “This is probably going to sting.”

She hisses as I pour the water over her, still looking resolutely away. Once it’s softened a little, I peel the bandage off, then clean the wound with more freshwater. It looks better than I was expecting, a nice clean cut, not too deep and no signs of festering. I wrap it in a fresh bandage and get to work on the other hand.

“So what about me?” Meroe says.

I pause for a moment, and look up to find her staring at me. “What about you?”

“What am I supposed to do?” she says. “To survive. I can’t fight like you can, obviously.”

I look down again. “Plenty of people can’t. They manage somehow.”

“Ahdron thinks I’m useless.” Her tone is perfectly cheerful. “Should I ask him to kill me and be done with it? Or should I ask you?”

“I’m not going to kill you,” I growl. She’s making fun of me.

“Why not? I’d rather get it over with quickly than have some monster eat me.”

“You’re not useless.” I peel the second bandage away and wash her slashed palm. “You just have to learn to be a little more pragmatic.”

“Pragmatic. I like that.” She laughs. “Not evil, just … pragmatic.”

“Just stay close to me,” I mutter, as I tie the bandage up again. “I’ll keep you alive.”

“How generous of you.” She flexes her fingers with a grimace. “But if you’re not a good person, you must want something from me. What is it, I wonder?”

“I told you I have my reasons.”