Chapter 18 #3
"I would never doubt your thoroughness," said Araxis. Then, with a quick look at me and in Standard, "It is a paledrian's head. Your escaped assailant."
My mouth went dry. "Oh." I swallowed. Did I say thank you for something like that? What the fuck was I supposed to take away from this gift?
"Did you learn anything of use before you removed their head?" asked Araxis, as mildly as if he were discussing the solar winds off-station. He stepped back to my side again, fingers brushing the back of my neck before he curled his palm there, possessive and unusually warm against my chilled skin.
"Again, you misunderstand," said Nizanin.
"This is a gift for Sashen of Creche Thiel.
It is not a gift for Araxis of Creche Thiel – although your virra assures me that he is most content by your side, so perhaps it is a gift for you both.
" Their stare stayed on me, unflinching, although they continued conversationally.
"The paledrian had little worthwhile information to share.
He was hired by an abaya. The description was vague, as it often is. "
Araxis's thumb stroked the side of my neck, steady. An anchor, a promise; I could almost let my eyes drift shut and lean into him, despite everything around us.
Nizanin's lips twitched with amusement. "I would suggest you look to the Concord, where you will find many enemies. We will, of course, stay alert for any danger as well. As allies must."
On the floor, Elethenn shifted, a soft whine of distress humming from his throat. I couldn't look at him; if I did, it would written on my face how scared I was for him – and the whole room was already bright with danger, the scent of blood heady in the air.
"Hm." Araxis blinked slowly; his fingers had spasmed at that whine, although his expression remained stoic. "And should I understand that we stand with a corpse because you addressed another perceived danger?"
Nizanin turned to look at Sentelli. "Would you care to explain?"
"The gaanith was not cooperative," said Sentelli in Standard, sounding almost bored.
"He dared to put his hands on our honoured one, and so the punishment was to be expected.
" Then, with something approximating a pleased little smirk sent in my direction, "The others chose more wisely.
The dalloid even offered to invite you here, thus saving us a great deal of time in locating you. "
My heart pattered against my ribs, my stomach curdling with nausea.
My molars ground together as Nizanin's attention snapped back to me, analytical stare taking in my features.
"Are you truly so soft? You, who killed with such unrestrained violence?
The paledrian said your name with fear, Sashen of Creche Thiel. "
"I'm trying not to make a habit of it," I ground out, throat gummy.
Nizanin beamed. "Ah, sweet and clever. What a treasure you have won, Araxis of Creche Thiel. And to win him despite your callousness? Impressive."
Next to me, Araxis stiffened; his thumb stilled against the side of my neck. I dug my shoulder into his hip to remind him I was there with him. That we were here together.
Nizanin continued, unbothered. "Vivith of Creche Thiel has much potential, but I believe they have fundamentally misunderstood who you are. This is often the case with hatch-mates these days; you have no genetic tether, and so creche cohesion suffers."
"Yes, I understand that is your belief," said Araxis, voice low – and in it, there was something not unlike a threat, although it was veiled, just barely visible. "I would ask that you are mindful of that which should be private."
For a long moment, neither Araxis nor Nizanin said anything, both just regarding each other with a stillness that made the hairs stand up at the back of my neck.
I'd learned at the den that, when things got tense or uncomfortable, it was best to try and hurry a conversation or interaction along, so I hastily plastered a pretty smile.
"You brought me a gift," I said, "which is generous, and I brought you a gift, which is a chance to speak with Araxis without a formal meeting.
We have made a fair exchange, yes?" Because I might be desperately treading in cultural waters that were fathoms too deep for me, but even I knew we didn't want to owe Nizanin or the Unbound anything close to a favour.
Nizanin fluted out a thin, breathy sound, one I recognized as sitting somewhere between amusement and irritation.
I expected Araxis to tighten his fingers on my shoulder, to urge me to silence, but instead, his thumb moved slightly, stroking my skin beneath the collar of his jacket. I shivered under his touch.
"This task we have done for you, this information we bring, is a gift.
You will not yet understand, Sashen, but gifts and favours are quite different.
This meeting is another stone laid along the path we are building," said Nizanin.
They turned, then, to Araxis. "Creche Thiel has agreed to offer us assistance in the transportation of materials to Xitera in exchange for support for your work in the Assembly.
We have learned that our expected contact is not currently residing with your creche – indeed, we wonder if they will remain with Creche Thiel at all, given their brazenness – so we wanted to assure we made contact through another means.
You are quick to say publicly that your partnership with your virra is that of equals; we had wondered, given what we learned, if this was true.
You are quite curious, Araxis of Creche Thiel: you understand our ancient traditions, and yet you are – hm.
Decidedly modern in other ways." It didn't sound like a compliment.
"We are pleased to be able to speak with you directly, and to see who you are for ourselves – though I will admit I was looking forward to speaking with your Vivith again. What an interesting mind. Incisive."
I glanced up at Araxis, who blinked rapidly, twice, before gaining a handle on himself. Araxis's shoulders were unmoving, his head tilting the smallest amount as he looked at Nizanin. "Apologies for any disappointment. Vivith makes an atonement. Their departure was sudden and unexpected."
Nizanin's lips twitched. "Unexpected? Ah, you are young."
Araxis was silent, and I leaned my body into his more firmly, my shoulder digging into his waist.
"You are also clearly a scion of Thalidi of Creche Thiel.
There is much she correctly grasped about the rotten pit at the centre of our empire.
You honour her by challenging the dictates of the Concord, who are as children wandering the moon gardens and believing they know the splendours of all creation.
" Nizanin spoke with the weight of parable, a particular cadence I knew well.
Araxis's fingers twitched against my shoulder as he suppressed some reaction. "If you came to a concord with Vivith, Creche Thiel will honour it. Do you have the writ?"
"I had intended to send it home with your virra, if he wished to return to you.
Of course I am pleased to have heard that he speaks with great affection for his sinnenthi.
His is an uncommonly generous soul." Nizanin let one hand drift to an inner pocket of their dark jumpsuit.
When their pale hand flashed out, it was holding a palm-sized metal disc made of gold – exactly the type we'd seen at the museum on display.
Araxis made a soft, startled sound. "You are enamoured of ancient traditions," he said, quiet. His hand fell away from my shoulder and he reached out, plucking the gleaming disc from Nizanin's pale fingers. "I will require time to review this and to adjust our cargo hold accordingly."
Behind us, Ankalas scoffed. "You should require no time at all. Your creche-mate, imbued with your authority, came to an agreement with us. It is your duty to honour that."
Araxis didn't even bother looking back as he held the disc up, where it glinted in the dim light cast from the light panels overhead.
He pinched the centre between his thumb and pointer finger and, with a flick from his other hand, set the disc spinning.
At once, shimmering golden letters painted the walls and ceiling, although in here, with the clutter, they were distorted and broken.
Araxis huffed, catching the disc in his palm to stop it spinning as the letters winked out. He looked again at Nizanin, frowning. "Are you remaining on Sozamia Station for some time, or do you depart soon?"
"Soon," murmured Nizanin serenely, eyes half-lidded.
"The shipment is nearly ready to be transferred.
We would like to complete this exchange in a week's time, give or take.
One of our number will reach out to finalize details.
" Then, their smile sharpening, they added, "Let us know if you require any further assistance.
We will also be certain to keep an eye on your creche members, should they need our aid.
We must look out for one another in these trying times.
" Their crest rustled softly behind them and then they stood.
Even though I'd met them before, I still expected Nizanin to be taller – they had the kind of eerie, suffocating presence that suggested they'd loom over you – but Nizanin was short and slight in a way that reminded me uncomfortably of the kids on Seraphim who'd been part of the first terraforming projects.
Malnourished. And yet there was a danger that radiated from every limb and in each precise and graceful movement.