Chapter Twenty-Two #3

had been subjected to before, when he had mostly despised her presence. Now,

instead, the smell of her unwashed body made him think of the night they’d

shared in the bathhouse. It made him think of her.

He

shouldn’t have crawled into her tent. He didn’t know why he was doing this.

“Z. I’m

not going.”

He felt

her stiffen around him.

“Just

leave me here,” Isaac said. “I’m done. You should—” He swallowed a knot in his

throat. “You should go. Without me.”

“Shut

up. Catch your sleep.”

“You

need to go. Our deal is finished.”

She

snorted. “Oh, this again? That deal? The one I made with a dagger at your

neck?”

“Yes,”

Isaac said. “You’ve got your treasure. Isn’t that enough?”

“Fuck

yourself, squire. I’ll not take that slight from you.”

“Zaria—”

“Like

I’m still some cutpurse sniffin’ for coin. Like I haven’t risked life and

limb—” Her breath came as a growl. “Is that still how you see me?”

“No. I

mean, no, I just—you have the chance to—”

“Isaac,”

she said. “If you’re not going, then I’m not either.”

This

hurt him more than he expected. “No, no, please, I’m just. . . .” He struggled

to speak. “I’m trying to save you.”

“Save

me? How’s that, exactly? Leavin’ me alone, ashamed I left you to die?”

“I—”

“I

still need your magic, ya stupid cunt. If I don’t got it, I’ll have my innards

pulled for show. That were the entire reason I came down here, if you care to

remember.” She huffed, blowing through his hair. “So, if you’re staying, I am

as well. We’ll turn dry here together.”

The

knot in his throat grew sharper. “Please. I’ve lost too much blood. I can’t

make the climb. I’m only going to slow you down.”

“We got

plenty of rope. I’ll help, and you’ll manage. By the time we’re clear, you’ll

be sneezing fire again, same as always.”

“That

is recklessly optimistic.”

“Don’t

use them big words on me.”

“You don’t

understand,” he said. “It’s more than the desert. I don’t know how to live. I

couldn’t sell these gems if my life depended on it. I’ve never been to a city,

never lived off the land. I’m as helpless as a child.” He looked at the brown

spots running along her arm. “I still feel like a child.”

“You’ll

figure it out, Isaac. Everyone has to.”

He did

not answer.

“Good

thing you got me, then,” Zaria added, raising his head with a flex of her

bicep. “I’ll keep your head out your arse. Honestly, you’ll like being an

outlaw. You’ll get so much adventure you’ll be pickin’ it out your teeth.”

“I

can’t do it. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m. . . .” He rubbed his cheek against

her fur. “I’m scared.”

Her

snout shifted through his hair.

“I’m

scared. I’ve never known anything but this. It’s all I’ve done. All I was meant

for. I—”

“Isaac.”

“I’m

really scared.”

“No, I

know that, love, but—”

“I

can’t,” he said, feeling the blunted pain inside himself suddenly turn to a

spike. “I’m stunted. I’m defective. I’m just a burden. I’ve always been

a burden. I’ve been trying to be brave this entire journey, because I had to,

and there was a purpose, and now I’m . . . just tired of being brave, tired of

bringing cost and ruin to others, of pretending my entire life has not been

useless.” His voice nearly cracked. “It’d be better if I was dead.”

There

was a silence, broken only by a dry breeze of sand.

“Wouldn’t

be better for me,” Zaria said, softly.

He

looked away.

“You

don’t mean that, love. That’s your uncle’s talk, not yours.”

He did

not answer.

Slowly,

she shifted against the roll, lifted her other arm from behind his back,

wrapped it around his side, and tucked him against her chest.

“I was

scared, too,” she said. “I was dashing off toward a tomb that I’d always been

told was full of blackness and evil, and there were bone monsters, my old crew,

an army of magic, a fucking titan rising out the ground, and you know what

else? Whole time, the only thing I had by my side was this young stuffy noble,

who had all the means and motive to want me dead.”

She

trailed a finger down his chest.

“And

you had every chance in the world to leave me behind or kill me off or just do anythin’ sensible about the matter, but you never did.” She

poked him with a claw. “Except for that one time, but we won’t mention that.”

He

stared at the wall of her tent, watching the fabric breathe with the wind.

“Point

being,” Zaria said, “I was feeling lost in a place I could never hope to

understand, and the only reason I still got my breath about me is ‘cause you

decided to help. And don’t you think I’ll forget that.”

Outside,

the air had rapidly cooled. The three moons were gone, and the night was dark.

“That favor’ll be returned. One debt to another. And if one good

thing’s gonna happen out of all this mess, it’s that you are gonna live a long

life, far away from this place.”

Her

snout pressed against his ear.

“I’m

not letting this tomb be the end of you. Count on that.”

He

blinked through the tears. Slowly, taking care not to rip any wounds, he

grabbed the hand she had pressed to his chest, giving a firm squeeze. She

squeezed back.

“So

you’re comin’, then? You’ll head out the pit?”

“Yes,”

he said, thickly.

“Alright.”

She squeezed his hand again, returning her muzzle to the bush of his hair.

“Alright, love. Just one more thing.”

He

tilted his head.

“If you

need something, I’m right here. You just gotta ask.”

He

nodded.

“Alright?”

“Alright,”

he said.

“Good.”

Her chin burrowed through his hair. “Night.”

He

tried to answer, but his voice began to break.

He lay

there for a time, watching the stars grow bright. Despite his exhaustion, he

found himself unable to sleep, replaying the events of the day over and over in

his mind, reliving the voices, the shouting, the pain. Each moment seemed to

cut worse than the knives in his flesh.

His

thoughts were interrupted when Zaria began to snore, which sounded like a saw

chewing through wood. He listened to the echoes it made, feeling her breath as

it rose and fell at his back. Every night since their meeting, he had fallen

asleep to the sound of her snores. The first night, it had made him angry. The

second, he had hardly noticed. In the comfort of the bathhouse, he had managed

to find it relaxing.

Now, as

the air grew cold, and the ossein canopy glimmered a pale white beneath the

stars, he found it comforting, the same way one might find comfort in the

crackle of a torch, holding it aloft as it burned through the dark.

He fell

into a dreamless sleep, still holding to her hand.

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