by Sarah Ahiers
“And you abhorred my calling,” I continued, ignoring his protestation. “But now I can point out our differences, how easy it is for me to think of murder and death as a solution, and you go along with it.”
He snorted and leaned closer. His arm pressed against mine, his skin warm, even with the heat of the covers.
“You are not disgusted.”
“You never disgusted me,” he mumbled. He pressed his lips against my neck.
I leaned into him, reaching for his shoulder, pulling him closer.
He trailed kisses across my throat as I slipped out of my clothes. I slid my hands under the waistband of his pants, sliding them off his hips.
He muttered something to me in Mornian, but even if I could understand the words, they were muffled, pressed against my neck. The sentiment, though, was understood.
The cold air stroked my bare skin and I pulled Nev down beside me, sinking into the warmth of his flesh, the strength of his arms.
I had been lonely in Yvain. And then I’d found Nev in Lovero. And I’d been lonely again, in Mornia. And once again I’d found Nev. His presence always seemed to fill an emptiness in me.
And for a little while, there with him in the dark, the bars surrounding me didn’t feel as thick.
The gray mist rolled through my dreams.
I stood and watched it. And waited for the hidden monsters to appear. They always appeared.
“Allegra . . .” Their echoing voices reached me first, coming from the mist, from everywhere, from nowhere.
Then their shadows, swift and towering, merging and separating so I could never get a true look at them. If they were even real.
“Allegra . . .”
Of course it was a dream. The same dream I’d had every night. Even knowing it was a dream did nothing to change anything. I stood and watched the mist, and listened to the shadows call my name.
A cold breath on the back of my neck.
I spun. Nothing. There was nothing there.
Something brushed my hair. I spun again. Still nothing.
But this was new. This was not the same dream I’d had before. This was different.
“Allegra . . .” the voices hissed. Menacing now, sibilant and empty and yet promising many things.
The gray mist swirled, twisted, and spiraled before me, creating a vortex, a maelstrom.
“Allegra . . .” they said, louder now.
And the maelstrom rose above me, collecting the gray sand below my feet, towering even higher than the shadows, until I had to lean back, stumbling, to see it stretch into nothingness.
And everywhere dread poured over me. Dread and fear and foreboding.
The maelstrom crashed into me.
Something thumped and my eyes snapped open.
Nev was out of the alcove, rubbing his face. He stumbled to the kitchen, lit the lamp, and pulled out the now familiar oil glasses and bottle.
I pulled on a pair of trousers and a vest and slipped out of the alcove, crashing onto a stool.
“What time is it?” I yawned.
He shrugged. “Morning. Afternoon, maybe.”
He poured us each a glass of oil and sat beside me. We sipped the oil quietly, the silence between us comfortable.
I needed to refocus. To speak to the samars about getting rid of the singura.
“Can I speak to Bedna today?” I asked Nev.
He sipped his oil again. “Why?”
“She might know how I can give up the singura.”
Nev scrunched his face, but only shrugged. “Yes. We will go to her home. First I will have to feed the tigers and snakes.”
“Fine.” And while he was doing that, I would bring my mother something to eat and drink. I felt ashamed I hadn’t thought to bring anything last night.
“Nev!”
Metta and Isha walked down the stairs, and when Metta saw me, she broke into a smile.
“Metta,” Nev said. “You will bring Allegra to speak to Bedna today.”
“Yes,” Metta said. “It will be good. Bedna will see, and Allegra will keep the singura.” She grinned sharply.
I didn’t blame her. She was no closer to her goal of raising her family’s status. I would have given the necklace to her right then if I could’ve. Instead, I would speak with Bedna. She had to know a way to release me from this burden.
Nev went to the kitchen and dug around for a few moments, returning with a tray of meats, cheeses, and bread. He took the knife from last night and sliced the bread into pieces. Then he handed the knife to me.
I hesitated but he continued to hold it out for me until I took it once more.
Metta and Isha noticed the exchange, of course.
Nev cleared his throat. “Perrin will come armed, next time,” Nev answered their unasked questions.
Isha shoved bread and cheese into her mouth, concentrating on chewing. Metta just studied us.
“If you kill her,” she finally said, “the samars will not be happy.”
“I don’t plan on killing her,” I said. “But I will protect myself.”
Metta just grunted.
We finished our lunch in silence.
thirty-two
I WAITED A FEW MINUTES AFTER NEV LEFT TO TEND the animals before I slipped out of his house. It wasn’t that I was lying to him. I was just keeping Claudia a secret. The fewer people who knew about her, the better for everyone.
I filled a small bag with a bottle of juice as well as the leftovers from our lunch, then headed to the wagon.
The sun seemed extra bright this afternoon. It stabbed into my eyes, until my head pounded with pain. The warm wind dried out my throat, too, enough that I started to consider cracking open the bottle of juice for me. But if I was this thirsty, I was sure Claudia was even more so.
I slipped past the cages, avoiding any travelers, though most were focused on tasks at hand and didn’t have eyes for me.
“Mother,” I whispered through the curtain. “It’s me.” I slipped inside.
Empty. The wagon was empty. Claudia was gone.
I stared at the empty space. She wasn’t here. Which meant she was somewhere else, but where? Where had she gone? And, more important, why?
I thought about what she had said last night. That she wouldn’t wait forever. But it had only been a few hours. Surely she wouldn’t have left without me . . .
The curtain behind me yanked open, filling the tiny space with afternoon light.
Hands grabbed my arms and they jerked me out of the wagon, releasing me to stumble outside.
I kept my feet and spun.
Perrin stood before me, with a group of six others.
Perrin reached into the wagon and pulled out the sack of food I’d brought for Claudia. She looked inside and smirked, before dropping it to the ground.
“Ghoshka,” she said by way of greeting. “Where are you going with this food and drink and wagon and the singura?”
Fleeing. She thought I was trying to flee. And the evidence was damning.
I couldn’t refute it, not unless I wanted to reveal the presence of Claudia. And even if I did, with Claudia missing, who would believe me?
“What do you want?” I said to Perrin.
Her group of friends laughed loudly. From the other end of the line of wagons, a traveler stepped out to see what the commotion was. He spotted the group of us, then fled, heading west through the animal pens.
“I know you are a ghoshka,” Perrin replied, “but I did not know you were so dumb.”
I blinked, letting her insults wash over me. I didn’t care what she said to me. She wanted to goad me into doing something stupid. It was a coward’s trick. She had the advantage of numbers. She was in control of the situation. She shouldn’t need to goad me at all.
I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting.
Perrin snorted. She looked over her shoulders at her friends who were shouting and laughing at me. They shoved one another around, working themselves up for whatever they had planned.
“You are a ghoshka,” Perrin finally said. “You do not deserve the singura.”
“You are like a ghost, Perrin,” I said. “You do the same thing over and over again, each time hoping for a different result and each time being disappointed when nothing changes.”
Perrin’s smile vanished.
Other travelers began to drift our way, drawn by the commotion, maybe. One of them sprinted to the front, shoving his way past Perrin’s group to stand by my side. Nev, out of breath.
“What do you want, Perrin?” Nev wasn’t even pretending to be pleasant.
Perrin pointed a finger at me. “She tried to flee with the singura.”
Perrin kicked the bag toward him, and the bottle and leftover food spilled across the ground.
Nev stared at Perrin. “It is a bag of food. This is your evidence?”
“We found her in the wagon.” She pointed her finger behind us.
Nev shook his head. “I see no horse to pull it.”
I scanned the growing crowd. Not a single familiar face. No Isha or Metta. No Bedna with her even ways.
Perrin responded to Nev in Mornian and Nev interrupted her with sharp words. I stepped in front of him, facing Perrin.
“Stop hiding and speak so I can understand,” I said to her.
She sneered at me. “Poor dumb ghoshka doesn’t understand Mornian.”
“Poor scared Perrin is too much of a coward to accuse me of something to my face. If you have something to say to me, now’s your chance.” I held my hands out before me.
Perrin scowled. “You are a liar. And a thief.”
“You are all thieves,” I said to her. “You’re just angry that you’re not the samar. But it seems your gods have chosen me and not you. Who have you angered, Perrin? Meska, Boamos, Culda? Surely it must be at least one of Them if They chose me over you.”
Perrin pulled her knife from her belt. It seemed I’d finally pushed her far enough.
I brandished my own knife, the one from Nev’s kitchen.
“Perrin, stop!” Nev yelled. But three of the men from the crowd grabbed him and pulled him away. He tried to break free, but they held him too tightly.
“Do not kill her!” he shouted.
“Oh, I will kill her,” Perrin said.
But Nev was yelling at me. If I killed Perrin now, it would only make things worse. I had to win this fight, but I had to keep Perrin alive.
Perrin rushed me, reversing the grip on her knife. I reversed my own grip. She stabbed at me. I slammed my forearm against hers, blocking the strike.
I’d spent my youth learning how to kill people. I could kill people with poisons, with swords, with ropes and needles and knives. But we didn’t spend much time learning how not to kill people with these weapons.
As Perrin struck at me again, my instinct was to return the blow. She’d left her neck open. It would be quick, easy, to stab her in the throat.
I stepped to the right. Perrin lost her balance. She stumbled.
Her eyes narrowed. She’d thought I’d be easy. A fast fight and she’d be the victor. She underestimated me.
Perrin doubled her attack.
And maybe I’d underestimated her, too. She was fast on her feet. Dashing at me, switching knife hands in the way that only someone proficient with the weapon could. I blocked. Spun. Blocked again. Lost ground. Pressed back against Perrin’s friends, who had encircled us. They shouted their support of Perrin. Pushed me toward her. I ducked too slowly under an exaggerated slash.
Her knife split the skin on my arm. I hissed and glanced at the wound. Not deep, but deep enough for blood to drip down my arm.
To my left Nev tried to pull free of the men who held him in place. I was done with this fight.
I went on the attack. Perrin’s turn to block, to give ground as I pushed her into the center of the ring. Her neck, open again. I slashed, only remembering at the last second to pull back, to halt my follow-through. The knife slid across her skin. Perrin gasped, dancing away. She touched her throat. Her fingers returned coated in blood.
My own fingers were slick from the blood that dripped down my arm. The longer this took, the worse my grip would become. I needed to stop her. I needed to end this.
I was only slightly aware the crowd had grown larger. More travelers had arrived. Metta and Isha shouted and pushed their way to Nev. It was all just noise, distraction from the task at hand.
I dashed at Perrin. She raised her knife and arms. She’d learned her lesson, blocking her throat now. No matter. Perrin stabbed for me. I spun on my heel, twisting behind her.
Perrin swung again, but I leaped onto her back. I was tall, but Perrin was tall, too, and strong. I trapped her free arm beneath my legs as I wrapped them around her waist. I grabbed the wrist of her knife hand. Then I sank the tip of my knife into her chest. A circle of blood appeared on her shirt, spreading slowly.
She froze.
The crowd quieted, their eyes wide at the position in which Perrin had found herself.
“I could kill you,” I said to her. “It would be easy for me. So easy. And my god would be grateful. Would thank me for it, Perrin. Should I send you to meet Her?”
The men had loosened their grip on Nev. He shook them off and stumbled into the ring, Metta and Isha followed on his heels.
“Allegra,” Nev said to me quietly. Like I was a horse, prone to spooking, or the tiger in the brief moment they’d let him free from his cage.
“You sent a snake into my home,” I said to Perrin. “You sent a snake to kill my family. I should end you for that alone.”
“No,” Perrin said.
“What?” I pushed in the knife just a sliver more.
Her brow broke out in sweat. She swallowed. “Do not kill me.”
“You ask me not to kill you,” I said slowly, “when you try to kill me?”
“I am sorry,” she gasped. Whether she actually was, or whether she was so terrified of dying that she would say anything, I couldn’t be sure. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, tracing her cheeks.
“What is happening here?” a voice called over the crowd.
People stepped aside and Bedna strode to the center of the ring. She frowned at me and Perrin.
“She is trying to kill me,” Perrin said to Bedna in another ploy to save her life.
All at once I was tired of it.
I unhooked my legs from around her waist and let Perrin go, pulling my knife free from her chest. Only the bare tip was red with her blood. She wouldn’t need stitches. It probably wouldn’t even scar.
Perrin pressed a hand to her chest, then pointed her knife at me. “She tried to steal the singura.”
I flicked my own knife free of blood, which arced on the dirt at my feet. Of course, most of the blood was my own, dripping onto the knife from my arm, but the spray of blood still made a few of the travelers in the crowd step back.
I returned the knife to my belt.
“I can’t steal something I already own,” I said.
“Have you tried to leave Mornia with the singura?” Bedna asked me.
“I wasn’t leaving,” I said.
It was a non-answer, of course. I wasn’t trying to escape now, but I had before. It was clear from Bedna’s frown that she knew it was a non-answer. She turned her back on me.
“I can sing the ghosts away,” I said.
Bedna stopped. Everyone stared at me.
“It is true,” Nev said.
“He is lying,” Perrin said. “Can you not see he is lying for her? For this ghoshka?”
“Perhaps,” Bedna said. “But in this we can know the truth. Allegra, you will sing Culda’s song and show us that it would send the ghosts away.”
“What, right now?” I asked.
Bedna inclined her head.
Nev’s eyes flicked toward me, then away. He didn’t fully believe I could make the singura work.
“Fine,” I said. I cleared my throat, trying to ignore all the travelers who wer
e staring at me, many of them hoping I would fail. Instead I focused on Nev at my side, and Metta and Isha, too. These people who had aligned themselves with me for a myriad of reasons. I was grateful for them, in this moment.
I closed my eyes and sang.
I stumbled on the first line and heard someone snort. Perrin, most likely. But I pushed on, gaining confidence. I had done this before. It would work again. I believed in it.
The necklace grew warm at my chest. I opened my eyes as I finished the verse. The singura flashed, and a light jumped from me, stretching out until it reached Bedna and her singura.
The crowd was silent.
Bedna stared at me thoughtfully. Then she spoke. “I will meet with the samars.”
“But I need to speak with you,” I said.
“Later,” she replied in a manner that brooked no arguments.
And with that Bedna left and Perrin’s friends dispersed, except for a few who rushed to her aid.
I strode away, waiting until I was free of their eyes before pressing my hand to the wound on my arm. It would need stitches.
Metta caught up to me, holding her stomach. “You did it,” she said. “You can sing the ghosts away.”
“Yes.”
She stopped and watched me walk away, Nev at my side as we returned to his home.
thirty-three
NEV’S HOME WAS COOL AND DARK AND I SAT AT THE table while he rushed to light the lamp.
My vest was sleeveless, but my arm had still bled all over it.
Nev pulled his chair over to me and sat down, a bowl of water, a clean towel, and some bandages in his hands.
My head pounded, even in the cool of his home. I pulled my blood-sticky fingers away from my arm. “Sorry I destroyed Isha’s vest.”
“She will not mind.” Nev dabbed at my arm with the damp towel, cleaning the surrounding skin. “And I will buy you another.”
Something in my chest quivered, and I bit my lip to try to still it. He treated me as if I was here, now, to stay. It made me feel . . . something.
I shifted in my seat. “I wasn’t trying to escape,” I said.
“I know,” Nev responded. And that was it. He didn’t question me further, ask me about the food. He believed me.
He trusted me.
I gasped at this revelation.