by Brey Willows
Jessa described the creature as best she could, and he began coughing so hard he turned crimson. After sipping some tea and taking deep breaths, he settled back against his pillows.
“That bastard Orlin. He knew there was no one he could say for certain she’d lose to. So he had to find something she had no chance against.” Tears began to slide down his face. “She did it for me, you know.”
She picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “What do you mean?”
“Flagweed helps my cough, but it’s expensive. It’s hard to scrounge enough to get food on the table, let alone medication.” He tapped at the cup on the table. “When I got sick, she got a loan. And to pay it off, she had to get in the ring. Plenty of people here have to do it, or things similar to it, in order to survive. She just happened to have a talent for it, and it meant Orlin started paying her in flagweed instead of linari. That way she never got out of debt, and he had a fighter he could count on.”
Jessa’s hands still trembled and she didn’t check the tears still falling. “Does she like it?”
He coughed and glared at her. “What if she does? What if part of her likes the fight and uses it to get out her frustrations? Does that destroy your civilized sensibilities, Captain?”
She didn’t miss the irritation in his voice, and she didn’t blame him for standing up for Kylin. But she couldn’t understand wanting to hit someone. She couldn’t understand the desire to hurt another creature, and she didn’t think she could be with someone who could.
When she didn’t respond, he sighed and closed his eyes.
“Let me know when she gets home, will you?”
Jessa squeezed his hand. The tension of unsaid words stretched between them, and it was best they remain unsaid. He didn’t have the strength to argue, and she didn’t have the words. She went back to the room she’d been sharing with Kylin and sat on the bed with her knees pulled to her chest. When Blue knocked and came in, she could tell that Blue would say the same thing Kylin’s dad had said.
She came over and wrapped her arm around Jessa’s shoulders. “I warned you that some things should remain in the shadows.”
“I had to know.”
Blue sighed heavily. “And now you do. The question is, what are you going to do with that information?”
Confused, Jessa leaned into Blue’s embrace. “I don’t know. Kylin told me, you told me, even her father told me, about how hard this place is. And of course I saw plenty of it while we were looking for pieces of my ship. I just didn’t think…”
“You can’t handle seeing it in person.” Blue gave her a squeeze and then got up to go. “When you love someone, Jessa, you love all of them. You don’t get to pick and choose, or ask them to be something they’re not.”
She left Jessa alone, and Jessa cried silently until she was drained of all the tears she had to cry. She kept seeing Kylin’s body, the blood, the screaming crowd. Did she love her? Was this what love was? Watching the person you cared about getting beat to death? Whatever the reasons she did it, did the ends justify the bloody demands? Could she live, even temporarily, with that kind of violence? Othrys was a non-violent world, where they used debate and political institutions to settle disputes. Not only was violence intolerable, it was considered something only lower life forms succumbed to. Kylin’s reasons were noble, she understood that. And maybe, somehow, she could come to terms with it in the long run. But after what she’d seen tonight, it was possible there wouldn’t be a long run. It didn’t look like there would even be a tomorrow.
With shaking hands, she packed her bag and quietly left the house. She couldn’t imagine being there when they brought Kylin’s broken body home. She wanted to remember her as she was, the handsome, roguish woman who made her laugh and protected her. Not the broken, beaten, woman they’d bring home. If they even brought her home. She stopped outside the door. Maybe she should stay. Maybe she could simply accept her, as Blue had said. But…what if Kylin didn’t come back at all? Jessa couldn’t face being there when they brought that news. With a choked sob, she left the house and headed into the maze.
The streets of the stacks were eerily empty, but she knew just where everyone was. She made her way to the new place her crew had rented. It had an extra bedroom, and she’d make use of it until it was time to get a transport. As much as it hurt, she couldn’t allow herself to fall in love with someone who handled violence so casually. Tonight had shown her just how different their worlds were; Kylin had been trying to tell her, but they’d foolishly abandoned that logic and moved ahead as though this were a children’s fairy tale.
Before she made it to the stack where her crew was, a group of people laughing loudly walked past.
“Did you see the way her body went rigid? I can’t believe she didn’t scream. That prowler bitch was hard as stone. Too bad we won’t see her fight again. She put up a hell of a fight for her last one.”
Jessa sank to her knees on the cold ground. Her last one. So she wasn’t coming back. She’d left Jessa with a beautiful memory tarnished by the image of her in the ring. There was no question of going back to Blue’s now. She couldn’t be there when they told Kylin’s dad. The pain of it would surely take him too. Perhaps that was a blessing. He wouldn’t have to live with this pain, this anguish eating through her like her soul was on fire. Something she knew she’d live with for the rest of her life.
She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there on the cold ground, sobbing until there were no more tears. People filtered past but thankfully no one stopped to help. She couldn’t have expressed herself and didn’t want to. She just wanted to get off this cosmos forsaken planet. Eventually, she forced herself to her feet, emptied and exhausted.
When Asanka opened the door, Jessa fell into her open arms and began a fresh bout of crying. She was back with her crew, and soon she’d be back on a ship. That was her world and where she belonged. She had to shut out the emotions, regain control. But as she sobbed at the loss of something she’d never known she wanted being lost to her forever, she knew she’d never be the same.
* * *
Kylin groaned as awareness slowly filtered back in, bringing with it a tidal wave of pain. Every bone in her body hurt, and she was immediately aware that more than one was probably broken. Something cool touched her face, and she murmured her thanks. Opening her eyes felt like too much work.
“Glad you’ve come back around. We lost you for a little while there.”
Asol’s voice lacked its usual lighthearted tone. Where was she? She shifted slightly and moaned. She was lying on something hard, but her head was cushioned. The smell of flagweed and oster flowers assailed her, and then she heard the slow, steady beep of a med machine. She forced her eyes open and groaned again as the light sent shards of pain into her head.
She was in a med unit room. Bare walls and a single open window weren’t overly welcoming, and a comm screen was showing images from her fight. “Turn it off,” she whispered.
Asol flipped the switch then gave her a drink of water.
“How long?”
“Three days, if you mean how long have I been sitting faithfully by your side in this stunningly beautiful room with the amazing view of that brick wall.”
Kylin grinned slightly and tried to sit up. Her bound ribs protested, but she managed with Asol’s help. “Jessa?”
Asol grimaced. “Safe, like you wanted her to be.”
“But?” The fact that she wasn’t in the room couldn’t be good.
“But…she thinks you’re dead. Most everyone does.”
Kylin’s eyes snapped open. “What? Why?”
“Because you were. Dead, I mean.” Asol moved the side of Kylin’s hospital tunic aside. “The electricity of the thing went in here and killed you. You died on the mat.”
Kylin went cold and started to shake. “And then?”
“And then a medic in the crowd jumped in. He started working on you, and someone else joined him. But most of the crowd had already fi
ltered out by then, going off to get their money or whatever, so the word went out that both you and your opponent died. Fight of the century and all that prowler shit.”
Kylin motioned for another drink of water, and Asol gave her some before continuing.
“So no one really saw them take you out on a med bed, and even if they did, they assumed you were dead. You’ve been here since, and I have to admit, I wasn’t sure you were coming back to us.”
Asol brushed tears away and looked out the window.
“My dad?” Kylin couldn’t imagine the pain he’d be in.
“I got a med student to go tell him what was going on. So he knows you’re not dead but not exactly alive, either.”
Kylin reached out and grabbed Asol’s arm. “Thank you. For staying.”
Asol gave a half-shrug, her eyes still glassy. “Like I said, you’ve got shit you need to teach me. I had to make sure you pulled through.”
Kylin rested her head against the thin pillow. “Can you get word to my dad that I’ll be home as soon as I can?”
Asol stood and moved toward the door. “And Jessa?”
Kylin hesitated. “I need to think about that. Just don’t tell anyone else yet, okay?”
Asol nodded. “Yeah. Good call.” She scuffed at the floor with her boot. “Like I said. She’s one of the shiny people, and I don’t think shiny people would understand what you did in that ring.” She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. “Even though it was epic.”
She left, and Kylin imagined Jessa’s face once again. The horror in her expression, the fear and confusion evident as Kylin tried to get back up. Maybe she was better off thinking Kylin was gone. She wouldn’t feel any obligation to look after her, to pretend like it was all okay. Because Kylin knew it wouldn’t be okay. She’d tried to warn her that this world was hard, but she’d allowed Jessa in, let her see the soft, beautiful side of Indemnion. Now she’d seen what terrors played in the shadows and how those games were won.
If they cut ties now, would it be better? Would it keep her heart from feeling like it had been stomped on by that creature? She let the tears fall, and part of her wished she hadn’t woken up at all. This was what love got her. A woman who couldn’t deal with all the baggage she came with. A woman who was better off believing she was dead than she would be trying to fit into Kylin’s world. She was safe, and that was what really mattered.
It felt like hours later when she heard the door to her room open, but it might have only been minutes. She was still groggy and the room wasn’t completely steady. But when Orlin came in, she forced herself to focus.
He sat in the chair Asol had been using, his long legs looking uncomfortable in the small space. “Did you cheat?”
She half-laughed and held her ribs. “I died. Does that sound like cheating to you? If I was going to cheat, I would have been sure to stay alive.”
He grunted, clearly more irritated than a prowler with a tick. “You cost me a fortune. I should take it out of your skin.”
She glared at him. “You said I was free if I won. And I won. You renege on that and people will do business with prowlers before they come to you for anything. And believe me when I say I’ll make sure everyone outside the Heathers knows if you back out.” She closed her eyes again, tired of the game. “It’s not my fault you bet against me. You should know by now that I’m a survivor.”
Surprisingly, he laughed. “That’s true. And fortunately, the people here like death in their entertainment. They’re clamoring for more fights like yours, with crazy odds and unbeatable underdogs.” He stood and dusted himself off like the med ward would stick to him. “We’re done.”
The door closed softly behind him, and Kylin took a long, deep breath. Aside from people thinking she was dead, which she could deal with later, this was the outcome she’d needed. She was out from under Orlin’s spiny hand for the first time in years. In the scheme of things it wasn’t a huge thing, but it was a step in the right direction. The door opened again, and this time it was Asol.
“What’s wrong?” Kylin’s heart stuttered at the look on Asol’s face.
“I told him you were okay, and that you’d be home soon.” She swallowed and stared at the floor. “But he doesn’t look good, buddy. I’m not even sure he heard me.”
Kylin’s body went cold and the room started to spin. But she got herself under control and started to move. “Help me.” She pulled the tube from her arm, and Asol pulled the wires from the monitors on her chest and back. The alarm bells on the machine started going off and a med-lead ran in.
Kylin held up her hand to stop the barrage. “Don’t. It’s an emergency, and I’m leaving. If I have to, I’ll come back. But right now, I have to go.”
The med-lead shrugged and moved aside without a word. Asol wrapped a jacket around Kylin. “I could help you walk, but it would be a lot faster if we put you in a chair.”
“Do it.” The thought of having to use a chair to get through the maze bothered her, but whatever got her to her father fastest.
Asol left and came back with a chair. She was also wearing a hat, and she’d brought one with a wide brim for Kylin. “If you’re not ready for news of your rebirth to get out, we should try to do this with a little bit of subtlety.”
Kylin got in the chair and put the hat on, pulling it low over her face. She pulled the jacket closed around her and focused on the ground as Asol pushed her efficiently through the maze toward Blue’s place. Once they were there, Asol gently wrapped her arm around Kylin’s waist and helped her up the stairs. Blue came out and took the other side without a word, and they went straight to Kylin’s dad’s room.
Her knees gave out and she would have slumped to the floor had Asol and Blue not been supporting her. One look told her that he was nearly gone. They lowered her into the chair beside his bed and she took his hand, not bothering to wipe away the tears falling down her cheeks.
“Hey, Dad. I’m here.” She held his hand to her cheek. “I’m here.”
She didn’t know how much time had passed before she felt his hand twitch in hers. She raised her head from the edge of the bed and searched his face.
His eyes fluttered open and he smiled when he saw her. “I knew you’d make it.”
“You raised me to be a fighter.”
He shook his head when she offered him some tea. “Damn right I did.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s time for you to start a different fight.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s time for you to leave, Kylin.” He took a shuddering breath, his dry lips barely moving. “You make something of yourself. Be more than a scrounger. Chase a dream. Make things better.” Tears slid down his papery cheeks. “It’s time for me to go, and you have to be strong. Let someone love you, but make sure they love all of you. You deserve that.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Kylin whispered, barely holding back the sobs building in her chest.
“Your mom and I were so lucky to have you.” He closed his eyes and his grip loosened on her hand. “I did my best…you made…me…proud.”
His breathing slowed, and his hand fell open. Kylin sobbed, holding his limp hand against her face. “Please don’t leave. Please.” Over and over, she said it, until her voice was hoarse and the room went dark.
A hand squeezed her shoulder and she turned toward the person, not caring who it was.
“Let me take care of him.” Auntie Blue sounded like she’d been crying too.
Kylin got up and stumbled from the room.
Jessa was there waiting, and Kylin fell into her arms. She helped her to their room and into bed, and wrapped her arms around her as she sobbed, as grief threatened to drown her. She held on to Jessa like a log in a raging river. If she let go, she’d never resurface.
Chapter Twenty-five
Jessa sat at the kitchen table, a long forgotten mug of tea in her hands. The last week was a blur. When Asol had shown up in the dead of night and asked her to come to Blue
’s because Kylin needed her, she’d thought it was a dream. But when she’d arrived and heard Kylin pleading with her father not to go, it had broken her heart, and any anger, fear, or confusion she had about the way she felt about Kylin melted away like the night before dawn. When she’d stumbled from the room, reeling with pain, she’d let go of the fury that she’d been grieving Kylin’s death for the last three days, only to find out she’d been lying in a hospital bed within sight of the stack she was living in. She’d let go of everything but the desire to hold Kylin, to cherish each moment, to help her get through what would probably be the blackest moment of her life.
And although she wasn’t entirely sure Kylin knew she was there, she made sure to be at her side as often as possible. Kylin’s eyes were blank, and she moved listlessly through the house, letting Jessa help her shower and rebind her ribs without so much as a blink of recognition.
Now, as she watched Kylin grieve, she once again tried to understand why people would want to feel anything when this was always going to be the end result. Devastation and despair were love’s ultimate price.
But then, the times leading up to that wreckage were something truly special, weren’t they? At Kylin’s father’s funeral, it seemed like all the residents of Quasi had turned up to say something about him. Anecdotes of times he’d made people laugh, or helped them put food on the table by giving them items he’d scrounged himself, or how he’d been a wonderful friend in other ways. Kylin’s voice had broken when she’d thanked them for coming, for being part of her father’s life.
“She sleeping?” Asol flopped into a chair opposite her.
Jessa nodded. “I feel so helpless.”
“Yeah. Death is so damn final.”
They sat in silence for a while before Jessa needed conversation to stop the whirl of circular thoughts in her mind. “Have you decided what to do in Quasi yet?”