Chapter 27
Devotion
It was a good thing Rodil was very particular about how to outfit a medical suite, because Araxis shoved me into the room and forced me to sit on the table while he inspected the cut punched into my side.
He hissed, quiet, as he prodded it gently, quick to use a subcutaneous mister to deliver some sort of antibiotic and then another device, tucked in a drawer, to tack the sides of the cut together.
"I am certain Rodil will want to take a closer look," he said, touching me carefully, his fingers cool against my hot skin. "How is the pain?"
I didn't have words yet, so I couldn't answer him; words kept slipping from me like water through fingers. Apparently that was answer enough, because he gave me some pain meds, watching as I dry swallowed the pills. I didn't even bother checking the label: I knew he'd gotten me the right ones.
In the hall, I could hear the murmur of Nizanin speaking with some of their people, but the words were indistinct. My body swayed as I sat there on the table. "Stay here," Araxis said, watching me carefully, "or go to our room. You should rest. This has been a great deal to bear, beloved."
I inhaled, sharp, as he went to move away, opening my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
All the words were so far away, and the world wasn't shifting around me every time I blinked, not like last time, but it was close.
I needed an anchor, a tether, so instead of speaking, I reached for Araxis, taking his blood-streaked face in my awful hands and pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth.
I didn't think I deserved to kiss him, but I did it anyway.
A soft, pained sound caught in Araxis's throat, a whine of distress amplified many times over.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then he carefully extricated himself and headed across the hall to the dining room, followed by Nizanin.
I sat there for a moment, letting my eyelids flutter shut.
The wound in my side throbbed with white-hot pain every time I inhaled.
I choked out a breath, forced myself to inhale again until it didn't surprise me quite so much.
I carefully tugged on my beautiful sweater, which was stained now with blood, ripped and ruined, but I knew Araxis would mend it for me.
He was good at fixing things. He was good at fixing everything.
Once I had shrugged on the added layer, I gingerly slid from the table and drifted across the hall.
Nizanin had settled themself on one side of the table.
I moved slowly to an adjacent side, dropping down heavily on one of the cushions, hissing in a sharp breath as the pain cut through the haze of whatever the fuck was wrong with my mind.
In the kitchen, Araxis clicked the stove on, leaning heavily against the counter as he waited for the water to boil, his rebreather hanging loose around his neck now that the chemical admixture of the air was safe to breathe again.
My stare skittered across the room to where the Naival's body lay in a crumpled heap.
And then, impossibly, I started to laugh.
The first words I said after coming out of my reverie were, "Oh, fuck.
What are the odds? Two meetings with corpses in the room?
" And then I wheezed in jagged breaths, laughing in a way that tasted of blood and ash, finally jabbing my hand hard enough against my stab wound that the pain made me shut the fuck up.
Nizanin watched me, head tilted with curiosity and I remembered that they didn't speak Standard, thank the cosmos or ancestors or whoever.
They'd had an array of four Unbound members with them and, although one had offered to stay, Nizanin had been quick to wave them away, insisting that we were old friends, bound now by blood.
I didn't think I could manage to think in abayan tonight, not after what had just happened, so I resolved to shut up and sit there.
I held the piece of folded cloth Araxis had given me against the wound, applying pressure.
It wasn't bleeding, so I did it mostly to use pain as an anchor to keep myself tethered to the moment, and I stared blankly at a spot in the middle of the table once I'd finally stopped feeling like I might start laughing again.
"Is your virra quite well?" asked Nizanin. I heard the rustle of their crest while I continued to stare emptily at the table.
Araxis's fingers tapped on the counter in the kitchen. "He has been injured, but it is not grievous. He needs rest. I hope we can be efficient."
"As do I," murmured Nizanin. "Creche Naival must believe that Creche Thiel is a threat. I see that their representative was wearing the official insignia."
"Yes," said Araxis, as the kettle reached a boil.
He took it from the stove and poured it into the waiting teapot on a tray he'd dug out of some cupboard somewhere.
We were probably into Egnax's stash for late night reviews of whatever systems the workers had been tinkering with during the day, which meant it was bound to be potent and potentially offensive.
"I will submit a request for the official documentation once we arrive in Xitera. "
Nizanin made a soft sound, almost condescending.
I did my best to meet their stare, although everything felt out of reach: like I was watching a play, hyper-real and surreal all at once.
When they explained, they spoke slowly, as if skeptical that I would follow the explanation they offered me.
"So that you understand, Sashen: a creche may file an official request to right an injustice or dishonourable action.
Creche Naival would have requested the right to execute the head of Creche Thiel; others will have agreed.
This would suggest that others will be coming, would it not, Araxis? "
They didn't know that we already knew that, which was probably good.
However far Nizanin's web extended, it wasn't into closed Assembly sessions.
It came as a distant relief that Vivith had warned us, even if it hadn't done much good in the end.
Because if information had leaked out from Xitera, it had clearly also leaked from within our creche.
"Yes, there may be others," said Araxis, bringing the tray to the table and putting it down with an uncharacteristic clatter before sitting at my side. "I understand."
"But does your virra understand?" Nizanin continued. "The risks facing Creche Thiel are significant. The longer you linger, the more opportunities there will be for the Concord to move against you. It is quite the thing, for a sinnenthi to be so careless with such a treasure."
My weary body straightened of its own accord.
Was the implication that I might tuck my tail and run away if I understood the dangers before us, or that Araxis was an unfit sinnenthi?
Or maybe it was both – and honestly, how dare they.
And even though though words still felt distant, like reaching for them would pull something already stretched to breaking, my mouth opened to speak – but Araxis got there first. "It is to be expected that you are concerned for Sashen's well-being," he said, a sharp tone whining beneath the words.
"But it is not necessary. I cherish him beyond all else, and we are equals, so he knows the dangers before us.
He knows the faces of our enemies and our allies alike.
We will travel immediately to Xitera to seek a resolution. "
I said nothing to Nizanin, because what was there to say?
All I knew was that I didn't want them talking about our relationship, and I definitely didn't want them talking shit to or about Araxis.
So instead, I touched Araxis's thigh, digging my fingers into the muscle.
A tether, an anchor. Better than pain. Araxis stretched to pour the tea, my thoughts hazy as Nizanin's poisonous little words hung in the air, and I found myself saying, "I don't want to duel anyone, Araxis, but if they keep talking about you like that, I might have to. "
It was only because I was staring at him that I caught the lightning-fast flicker of a smile at one corner of his mouth. He put a cup in front of Nizanin, the bottom clicking on the table with a sharp sound. "He understands your concern," said Araxis. "Now, to business?"
"Hm." Nizanin plucked the cup of tea Araxis had set before them, bringing it to their nose and inhaling deeply. "Oh, how curious!"
"Yes, it is a human tea," Araxis said. "Be mindful: there is –" and he said a word I didn't know, but that made Nizanin blink in surprise.
"Humans drink poisonous tea?"
"Humans engage in many unusual cultural practices. In small doses, it is a stimulant for them." Araxis shot me a quick look and added, in Standard, "Caffeine."
I nodded, picking up my own tea and taking a sip.
It was bitter and warming, and somehow I hadn't really clued in that it had caffeine.
That was one of the things we hadn't been allowed on Seraphim.
"Does this mean that I poisoned you when I made you human tea for the first time?
" I murmured in Standard, leaning closer.
Araxis trilled, though it was a little forced. "No, Sashen," he replied in abayan. "It is quite a small dose. He hadn't realized it was poisonous," he explained to Nizanin, who was watching me closely enough that my skin started to crawl.