“We’re here to undo what was done.” Kiraes’s tone was solemn, but stiff, as if he was reciting more than expressing his thoughts.
Taneem’s lips twitched. “So that’s it. You just follow Karlan’s words, believe that we can fix one evil with another…”
“There’s no fixing it!”
The outburst was so sudden, Taneem reeled back.
Kiraes took a deep breath before picking up. “Nothing will bring our parents back. Nothing will undo cycles of pain and humiliation we had to endure. All we can do is make sure our children won’t suffer the same fate as us.”
“If you cared about your children, you would take them and Kayda and fuck off to Tarviss,” hissed Taneem, feeling his blood rushing. “They were already sent there, deported due to your own actions. Do you care about that?”
“Damn you, Taneem, what do you care about?! Is there even anything? Or you just do what you’re told. No wonder you don’t mind the life of a peon, you already have the soul of one!”
The words struck him like a physical punch, and Taneem stepped back, looking at the man he considered his friend. Kiraes’s cheeks were red and sweat glued his hair to his forehead. His eyes were wide opened, frenzied, almost like Karlan’s.
He made a mistake, Taneem realized. Not just now, but all throughout his life. His attempts to fit in with those people were futile; and moreover not even worth it.
He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes, and spat:
“I lived in Sfal with the man I loved, knowing full-well that if we were ever to return to Tarviss, we would be gelded or killed. If there’s one thing I care for is that I didn’t have the balls to tell you and Karlan to go fuck yourself when you knocked on our door. Make of it what you want.”
He whirled on his heel and strode off, leaving Kiraes too stumped to reply.
Chapter 18
They didn’t put me back in the hole. Instead, after Adyar Lah and I took Tayrel Kan to the field hospital, I was told to go to my tent and await further orders. Kalikka brought me from the initial shock, but as I stretched on my cot, terror and guilt still churned in my stomach.
I wondered if I should leave. Just pack my stuff and slip away in the night. There was nothing—and no one—keeping me here. I was alone, surrounded by enemies. Dahlsi, Tarvissi—what the fuck was the difference? The Tarvissi would torture and kill me, while the Dahlsi would sentence me to exile or death—provided they wouldn’t shoot me in the back. And maybe after what I’d done to Tayrel Kan, I deserved it…
The only problem was there was nowhere to go. The merge was closed, the only sorcerer I knew was out cold. I could hide in the country and wait for the war to end, then try to return to Kooine. Probably get approached and arrested on the spot. But the surrounding area was burned to the ground with no shelter in sight, so they’d have no problem catching me. So, I stayed—not because of conviction, but out of simple resignation.
With nothing to do, I reached for the only thing that ever brought me solace: food. Led by compulsion more than hunger, I gorged on nuts and sunberries until my stomach was bloated and my mouth filled with sticky sweetness, thinking if I ate all the nuts, no one else would get hurt…
In this whole mess I hadn’t even asked if Myar Mal was alive. Not that it mattered; he wasn’t a friend of mine. And after that nut incident I doubted Tayrel Kan would be. I was on my own.
A rustle ground my musing to a halt. I strained my ears, wondering if I’d imagined it. But the sound repeated, and I was now certain: someone was behind my tent. Why not the front? Were they trying to sneak in? Didn’t they realize there was only one way in?
Was there?
Carefully, I turned my head toward the direction it came from. There was a shadow creeping near the ground, barely visible against the white sheet. I cast a quick blurring spell and as quietly as I could—which I admit wasn’t very quiet—I darted outside, wand in hand, hoping to catch the intruder before they fled.
When I saw them, I froze.
“Ellare,” I groaned. “What are you doing here?”
The girl raised her teary eyes to me. “Help me,” she whispered.
I quickly scanned the area. We were at the very edge of the camp, and there was no one in sight. I grabbed Ellare’s arm and dragged her into my tent. She was dirty, covered in ash and grime, almost blending in with the environment—that’s probably how she got this far without drawing attention. When we were inside, I placed the seal on the entrance and she slumped down on the ground, scattering flakes of dirt all over my pristine floor. I cast a quick cleaning spell; Ellare didn’t even notice.
“I made a mistake,” she sputtered between sobs.
Yeah, no shit.
Like me, Ellare was from Nes Peridion. A couple of cycles younger, but already notorious for her beauty—especially since she wasn’t above taking advantage of it. Rumor said she had the hots for Karlan, but of course, her parents wouldn’t have it. They even arranged for her to marry an honest peon boy. I guess she did follow her heart after all. Right to the fucking Montak Mansion.
I ran my hand through my hair and slumped to my cot.
“What were you thinking?” I asked.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she whimpered.
I felt a stab of anger. What was it supposed to be like?
“Karlan said…” she sobbed again, “he said that we’d just get in, make our demands, and they’d do as we say. He said no one would die.”
To that, not a stab but a wave of hatred washed over me. Was he really so dumb? Did he think so little of Dahlsi?
Did all of them?
As if sensing my anger, Ellare shrank. “Karlan is mad,” she whispered unsteadily. “Look, I— he…” She paused, then sighed, then picked up her speech, “he made it sound easy. Plausible. It was hard not to trust him. But I see now, he is delirious, Aldeaith. He wants to undo what our parents have done.”
I scoffed. That much was clear from the beginning, but when I opened my mouth to say it, she raised her hand in protest.
“No, you don’t understand. He treats it like some kind of ritual. He wants to do everything that happened in Nes Peridion, but in reverse. And he won’t rest until he hangs your head above the gate to the mansion.”
“He’s in the wrong fucking world,” I remarked. And there was no siege in Nes Peridion, as far as I was told. No Dahlsian presence. Plus, if he wanted to do everything like it happened back then, shouldn’t he need my father’s skull?
“I know.” Ellare shook her head, making a few strands of hair loosen from her braid. I noticed she wore a few beads of olivine in her hair. As if to make her allegiation clear. “And he knows that, too. He knows his ritual is not working, and that makes him desperate. That’s why he sent us in this stupid-ass charge.”
The images flashed through my mind. The bodies of Mespanians sprawled in the dirt. Tarvissian fighters, consumed by fiery demons, contorted in agony. It wasn’t stupid; it was tragic.
“And there’s more,” her voice quietened as she leaned toward me, raising her eyes to look into mine. “The people he brought with him… they are Tarvissi.”
My confusion must have been obvious because she shook her head slightly.
“No, Aldeaith. Not colonists like us; people born and raised in old Tarviss.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine. So, our worst suspicions were true. It wasn’t just a bunch of dumb kids with a plan that sounded better on paper, but an alien power trying to destroy us from the inside.
“Before we came here, Karlan spent some time in Tarviss with his family,” continued Ellare. “But he didn’t tell me what happened there, what their plans were. I started to think… they were just using us. They never cared about our liberation.”
‘Liberation’?
“Were you really so unhappy in Dahls?” I asked, the bitterness seeping into my voice.
New tears shone in her eyes. “I don’t know.”
We went silent. I thought about what she said, and I co
uldn’t help wondering about Karlan’s role. Was he a part of the Tarvissian plan to gain more worlds and influence for themselves? Or was he just a pawn, used like the poor fools who followed him? And what exactly did the Tarvissi expect? Did they want us to surrender? Or they were looking for an excuse to declare war and invade the Dahls itself? Was this provocation approved by the government, or was it a rogue action of the Peridion family?
So many questions. And the biggest of them: what was I supposed to do? Reporting what I learned would require me to admit to Ellare’s presence, and that could mean her death. Despite everything, I didn’t want to be responsible for it. She was like me, younger and dumber, but Nes Peridionian, one of the last in the colonies. How could I bring her doom? But keeping it to myself would be betraying Dahls. And yes, my position at the moment wasn’t the best, but if I were to choose, I’d prefer Dahlsi to win rather than Tarvissi.
But would revealing what I knew change anything?
Her hand on my knee snapped me back to reality.
“Can you help me?” she whispered again, looking into my eye.
Could I? I was in pretty deep shit myself. A murder attempt, grand insubordination—twice, if we count refusal to submit my foods and disregarding the arrest—and reckless endangerment that almost resulted in death. My future in Mespana looked bleak at least. The last thing I needed was an allegation of harboring an enemy.
“I don’t know what I can do,” I said. “I’m in trouble myself. If they find you here…”
“Then let’s leave.”
Ellare’s palm slid up my knee, sending an uncomfortable shudder up my leg. I quickly grabbed her hand and pushed it away, drawing my legs closer.
She continued, unperturbed, “Just you and me. We have no place here, anyway.”
For a second I was tempted to agree.
“There’s nowhere to go,” I replied, thinking of all the options I discarded earlier. “The only merge is in the mansion and I doubt Karlan would let me use it.”
“But… you guys got here somehow.”
“Yeah, our sorcerers opened a temporary path, but it’s closed now.”
She was watching me wordlessly with wide, pleading eyes, but I could almost hear the alarm bell ringing in my head. Ellare never looked at me before. I’ve no doubt she wouldn’t be doing this now if she had any choice. She was merely seeking the strongest male to latch onto, and decided I was slightly above Karlan at the moment; but her “you and me” would only last until literally anyone else showed up.
I was so glad I was immune to such sentiments.
A tingling of a doorspell ran down the back of my neck and I froze. Who was that? Did they see Ellare? They certainly would if I were to open.
The tingling intensified, verging on a headache. If I didn’t let them in, they could force their way. If not by themselves, then after calling for reinforcements. But if that happened, I wouldn’t be able to explain myself. And if I tried to use the moment to flee…
But there was nowhere to go!
The tingling vanished and I felt control seeping back to my limbs. I snapped from my cot and ran to the entrance, Ellare’s fingers brushing my knee as she attempted to stop me. I broke the seal and almost stumbled outside.
Saral Tal was already a few paces away. Alone. He turned back, opening his mouth to speak, but then his gaze reached past me and it was his turn to freeze.
“It’s not what you think,” I stammered, my mind completely blank. I should at least try to come up with an explanation. But what could I say? What could make my situation better?
Saral Tal’s gaze slowly drifted toward me, his hand resting on his wand.
“She’s not a rebel,” I shouted desperately, not sure when I decided to go with this line of defense. “She lived here. In Maurir. When the rebels came, she hid in the mansion and only now managed to sneak out. When the gate was broken. And the rebels were busy.”
I realized I was babbling, so I snapped my mouth shut.
For a long moment, he was looking at me without a word, before shifting his gaze back to Ellare and I couldn’t help following it. She still sat on the floor, her hands splayed wide, lips parted and trembling slightly, eyes full of tears. Saral Tal wasn’t exactly imposing, but he had the means to kill us both. He would be doing his duty, disposing of an enemy and a supposed traitor. No one would hold it against him. On the other hand, executing someone in cold blood was different from killing in the heat of a battle. I prayed Saral Tal wouldn’t find the strength to do it.
After an excruciating eternity, he finally nodded, but didn’t take his hand off his wand. He was still tense, his jaw clenched, but at least he didn’t look like ready to kill us.
“Kar-vessár wants to see you,” he said to me, though his eyes were on Ellare.
My stomach sunk. So Myar Mal was alive? Or had they just announced his successor?
“Let him decide what to do with her,” he finished.
I nodded, my throat tight. I gestured Ellare off the floor and we went out, with Saral Tal closing our procession. Was it because he didn’t trust me enough to turn his back on me?
In any case, his presence faded into background as more and more people stopped whatever they were doing to stare at me. My guts were churning like a bag of worms. Traitor, they seemed to scream. I wanted to sink into the ground.
Two healers awaited in front of the vessár-ai tent, demanding to see my bags. The joke was on them: I ate my last nut before coming here. Anyway, they barely looked at my stuff, so transfixed were they on Ellare. Even if I had some nuts, they would probably miss them. When they finally handed them back and parted before us, I breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that we would soon be out of sight of most of the camp. It was quickly snuffed out, though, when I realized who was waiting on the other side.
Cool air hit me as I entered. I tried my best to brace myself, but my knees were like jelly, and my insides twisted into a knot so tight, there was no room for them to turn anymore. And yet, as I crossed the threshold, my eyes fell on a figure even more grotesque than Tayrel Kan at his worst and I froze.
His skin was red and so swollen, it resembled raw dough more than a human flesh. Lips took up almost half the face, while eyes were reduced to mere slits. In sausage-like fingers, he held the breathing mask, but he refused to fasten it, only lifting it every once in a while.
“You should rest,” berated the elder vessár—Tyano Har-Vahir—but the figure brushed him off.
“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” he said with a raw, raspy voice, waving his hand dismissively. Light glimmered on a dallite ring and only then did I realize who it was.
Myar Mal.
He finally noticed me and for a moment his violet eyes met mine. Then they shifted towards Ellare and my heart stopped.
Two days ago I claimed to never have given anyone reason to doubt my loyalty. But there it was, plain and simple.
Traitor, screamed kar-vessár’s voice in my head.
“Aldait Han claims this woman is a local who hid from the rebels and only now managed to escape the mansion,” reported Saral Tal before I collected myself enough to speak.
Myar Mal was studying us. I wished I knew what he thought. Did he believe Saral Tal? Believe me?
After a few seconds, without a word, he twisted his wrist and Ellare collapsed like a sack of vye. I tried to grab her, but she slipped from my hands and hit the floor.
“Kiarn At, make sure our princess stays asleep until this mess is over,” said kar-vessár. Then he turned to me. “Aldait Han”
He threw something at me and this time I managed to catch it. I looked down: a silver sash. My stomach churned.
“Put it on and sit down, we don’t have the whole day. You take over your Cohort, Adyar Lah replaces Sanam Il in Second.”
I looked around, spotting the man sitting next to Innam Ar, eyes fixed on the tabletop, seemingly determined to avoid my gaze. His head was slumped and shoulders hunched. There was also another person, a
woman I’d never seen before and had no artificially implanted knowledge about.
“We lost two more vessár-ai,” explained Myar Mal, the first notes of impatience seeping into his voice.
I hurriedly put on the sash and took the last available seat.
“All right, first things first,” started the kar-vessár. “Aldait Han, you received an order to submit all of your food products.”
I dropped my head, heat rushing to my face. My insides were twisting again, as if ready to burst from my body and skitter away.
“Yes, kar-vessár,” I murmured.
“You didn’t.”
I could feel his eyes boring into me. Everyone’s eyes boring into me. I tried to imagine myself melting into the chair.
“There was no… opportunity,” I stammered.
“What were you so busy with?” came mockingly from the side. Raison Dal-Aramek, whispered Tayrel Kan’s voice in my head. Vessár of the Eleventh Cohort, and unofficially, the leader of the medical team.
I clenched my fists, trying to calm myself. Truth was, I was just hoping the fight would be over and we’d be back in Sfal. And then Laik Var died and I…
“You’re juggling nuts, Aldait Han,” said Myar Mal. It was a Dahlsian expression, meaning playing with dangerous things. Juggling swords, I guess. “Laik Var vouched for you, and that’s why I’m willing to let your insubordination slip. But this is the last time. One more act like this and you will be disciplinarily discharged. Do you understand?”
I swallowed heavily. “Yes, kar-vessár.”
“Good. Raison Dal, you’re going to organize sanitation teams to confiscate all possible allergens in the camp. From everyone, not only our little rebel here.”
I flinched. Did he have to drag this out?
“I don’t give a shit about your delicate palate,” he looked at me pointedly and I did my best to escape his gaze, “this is a safety hazard and it has to be removed. From now on, the only food permitted within the camp are rations. If everything goes well, we’ll be home in a day and you’ll be able to indulge to your heart’s content without putting anyone at risk. Is that understood?”
The Outworlder Page 13