Page 61 of Tempting Fate

I stilled. Focused on her face. Aimanei.

“Come on, kitten. We need to leave,” she said, voice gentle.

But I tugged her back the way we’d come. It made sense to do it all now, then I wouldn’t have to come back for a while, and I might need extra—

“Airi, please.”

Too many sounds, too many things. I had to… had to—

Imani gripped my arm, hard. “This way.” Sharp and urgent. Then deeper, enunciating every word in a clipped staccato. “Do as you’re told.”

The noise fell away.

My racing thoughts stalled, hanging in the air, falling feathers captured in a painting, fated always to remain in suspended animation.

All I saw was her. Through the cloudy static in my mind, Imani offered calm, a singular peace and rightness that only she could bring.

She led me down the street; I focused on the heat of her hand in mine, my anchor.

“I’ve got you, kitten, not far now,” she said in a low melody.

Warmth spread in my chest. Imani’s got me.

We followed our shadows as we walked, the sun behind us casting short distortions of ourselves onto the cobbles.

The cobbles became sparse, fewer and fewer until we walked on only pale beige ground.

“Here.” Imani’s voice. The greenish-grey of the speeder. Imani pushing me towards the open door.

I climbed in and sat.

She stood beside me, only slightly taller than me. “Better?”

I hummed, not finding the ability to speak.

“Do you want a hug? Or space?”

Wordlessly, I tugged her to me.

She fell into my lap, wrapping her arms around me, holding me tight. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” Her fingers tensed on my back. “Squeeze me if you want me to stop talking, okay?”

She spoke in short, mellow bursts. Her calming tone washed over me, tethering me. “You did so good, kitten, you did so well. And it’s done. You’re safe.”

Safe. Yes. Marni was safe. Soft and safe and here.

“When we get back, we can go to the gardens. Sit in the shade of the tree. It’ll be quiet.”

Gardens. Quiet.

“Calm. Breathe, kitten. Slowly. That’s it.”

I gave her a small squeeze, nuzzling into her shoulder.

As we held each other, my thoughts eased. Clarity returned, bringing a strange exhaustion with it. “What happened?” I managed.

“Oh, hey.” She pulled back, letting me see her face, brows drawn in concern. “It’s okay. It was new, you just got a bit overwhelmed.”

Guilt twisted through me. Yet again, I was a burden, unable to care for myself. “I’m sorry.”