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When I turn around to continue our journey I’m on the edge of an opening and almost face to face with two Maulavi. I immediately drop my head and avoid eye contact. There are rumors that they can read your soul. I do not know if this is true or not but I don’t see the point in risking it.
Slowly, doing my best to not draw attention, I step back. She either sees what is happening or follows my lead. One way or another I’m able to put other bodies between us and the probing eyes of the Maulavi.
There is an alley straight ahead. I set our course across the flow of traffic, fighting my way there. The alleys are never safe, not anymore, but it will be easier to keep her at my side and I am confident I can deal with any problems we might encounter.
We break free of the crowds at last and I take my first deep breath since we left the house. I go halfway down the alley and pull her against the wall. The shadows are thick here giving us a modicum of privacy away from prying eyes.
She keeps her hood up and head down as I instructed. I lift the hood enough so she can see my face and lean close.
“You are okay?”
She nods but I cannot miss the way her lip trembles or the scent of sweaty fear that she exudes. Anger tries to surge but I cannot give into irrationality again. Still I growl, unable to control that primal expression of the anger that I am suppressing.
“I’m scared.”
“I know,” I say, reaching into the hood I touch her cheek. “We are okay. We must keep moving.”
She tilts her face into the palm of my hand and my cock tries once more to stir. I push that down too. Maybe there will be a time that is not so wrong and terrible but that time is not now. I pull my hand back with great reluctance and take her hand back into mine.
The alley narrows as we move through it. I kick debris and garbage out of our way with a growl. Symbolic of the decay of my people. Once this would never have been allowed. She trips and yelps. I whirl and catch her before she can fall. She mutters something in what I assume is her language as I do not understand it.
“Okay?” I ask, whispering to avoid announcing our presence.
“Yeah,” she says, mimicking the softness of my own voice.
“Didn’t see that,” she says. “Sorry.”
We both look to see what it was that caught her foot. She gasps as I grab her by her arms, lift and spin her around to block her view. I push the body to the side with my foot. She is looking down so I grab her chin and pull her face up.
“Me. Look at me.”
She trembles but nods. I hear garbage falling and glance over my shoulder. The body is mostly covered. Poor bastard. A beggar, possibly starved to death, but most likely the victim of one of the gangs that roam the darkness of the city, eluding the guards.
“I want to go home,” she whispers.
And my heart breaks. I cannot even begin to be angry with her. What kind of life is this? What have we become? It is easy to blame the Shaman for all of this, but easy does not make it true. My people are fallen and I am every bit as guilty as the Shaman and his Maulavi. What have I done to fix any of this?
Nothing. Resigned yourself to die and hoping, if only silently, that it would come sooner than later.
I want to apologize to her. For what I don’t know. I don’t want her to see my people, my city, me like this. But this is where we are. Lost and broken under the darkness of the mountain where once we flourished. In the end times for this world.
If this is the end times, then how could Tajss be so cruel? Why bring her to me now? Bring her here for what, to hurt me? Punish me by giving me these feelings? By making me… hope?
My throat clenches as my breath seizes in my chest. I shake my head, unable to speak. Feelings swamp my thoughts, mixed and too strange for me to sort into easy categories. I can’t deal with them and protect her. There is no option but to focus so I take her hand and pull her along.
I’m leading us away from Mazabuta’s in case anyone is watching us. I do not want a clear trail of where I am going. Everything is too dangerous right now. No one can be trusted. I’m not sure I can trust Mazabuta either, but I need help. I cannot hide a body alone, much less devise a plan to cover over the disappearance which is sure to be noted.
Someone clears their throat and I freeze. She stops right behind me, her body touching mine which I am every bit as aware of as I am the odor of rot and decay on the air. A strange juxtaposition of wrong and what feels so, so right.
Putting a hand on her side I gently push her against the wall. There is an intersection just ahead of us where I heard the sound come from. Someone is there, the only question is whether or not they are a problem. It is best to assume they either are or will be. Regrets only come from things you are not prepared for.
“Wait,” I whisper, then slide along the wall towards the intersection.
I strain my ears, searching for any clue as to how many there are but there is nothing. That is as big a sign of trouble as any though. A person would make some noise if they weren’t trying to hide. I reach the corner, pressing myself against the wall. I pull my club off my belt and raise it to ready. I bend my knees and take a breath.
Leaping then something hits me from above. The body hits me in the chest, knocking me into the wall. My head cracks hard causing stars to dance in my vision. I growl which is met with the same from my attacker.
Feet rush around the corner and I hear Niyah scream.
