Page 74 of Tempting Fate

The sunny afternoon had been pleasant, but I tugged at the collar of my tunic, the air cloying and oppressive. “What if I leave? My presence here could put all of you in danger.”

Tokki clasped my arm. “Airida. You’re one of us. Every damn soul of us has been hard-won. We won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.” He tugged me closer and pressed his forehead to mine. “Trust me, brother.”

I leaned against him, closing my eyes, and took a slow breath.

Brother.

“Thank you,” I choked.

I stumbled across the courtyard, Imani at my heels.

Stay in the village.

My hut felt smaller than I remembered. Seven paces before I had to turn, but I couldn’t sit still. “I’ve traded one prison for another. This one is bigger, but I can’t help feeling like nothing has changed.”

“It won’t be forever, kitten.”

“I hope not.” Shohari would work it out. She always did. “I hate it. I hate feeling so helpless.” I sunk to the bed, my energy drained.

“You’re not helpless, Airi,” Imani said, sitting next to me. “This just isn’t something everyone can deal with.”

No, but I should have been able to. I pulled her into a hug, focusing on her soft warmth. The air fluttered around my head, and Orbit joined us too, her comforting weight settling into my headspines. “I am sick of this already.”

“I’m sure Shohari is doing everything she can.”

My shoulders slumped. “She hasn’t told me much. Gods, I wish I was good for something more than analysing trading indexes.”

She drew away, studying me. “Do you really believe that? You’re good at lots of things.”

Was I? “Everything else is overwhelming.”

Imani’s voice was gentle but firm. “I know. But are you going to sit there and be overwhelmed, or are you going to put on your big boy pants and step into the unknown? You braved the town. You’re adapting to life here.” She took my hands in hers. “Airi, you’re intelligent, you’re talented, you can be anything you want to be.”

All my life I’d been told how worthless I was, how flawed, how inconvenient. That I didn’t deserve the good things so many others had access to. Twenty seven years of it, encrusted in a hard shell, layers upon layers of hurt disguised as truth.

Little by little, Vadias was chipping away at it, creating tiny fissures. And here was Imani. Truth rang in her voice, her words sliding through the cracks, prising my beliefs open.

Her hands were so small and warm in mine, and I squeezed them tight. “Thank you, my moonlight. I need to make a comm.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Always. “I’d better do this alone.”

“Okay.” Imani stood, her fingers drifting over mine until only the barest brush of our fingertips remained. With a gentle smile, she slipped out of the door.

The last conversation I’d had with my sister echoed around my head, where yet again I’d deferred to her, let her lead, let her take all the risks. “Do you know, Orbit,” I said, watching the flower lizard circle Kri’s shrine in an unfamiliar way, “I think I’m done sitting still and getting better.”

Confidence bloomed in my chest, rising, swelling, tugging on thoughts I’d long since locked down, setting free years of hurt and anger in a writhing, swirling maelstrom.

I took a deep, steadying breath.

My pain is the star in the void that heralds change.

I snatched up my datapad and activated a secure line to Shohari. I wasn’t sure if it would connect, but as I was about to swipe the call away, she answered, her headspines wild and eyes glittering.

“This is not a good time, Airi.”

“For either of us.” I bared my teeth. “Do you wish to talk about it?”