Chapter 29 #3
I nodded, looking up at him. "Yeah, got me right in the gut.
I have to be honest, the Naival representative didn't seem too concerned.
Just like they weren't too concerned about handling our creche's elders with appropriate care.
" I adjusted Talvi on my lap. "How long have you had Talvi in here, waiting for me and Araxis to arrive?
When's the last time you gave them something to eat, or let them use a hygiene room? "
It was a stab in the dark, but from the way Elethenn stiffened, I thought I'd hit the mark. Or at least somewhere in the vicinity. "They will be fine," said Rodil, voice thin. "We do not need any more of your commentary, Sashen. You have the child. We will wait patiently for your sinnenthi."
"Clearly, not everyone is cut out for – for care-taking or kindness," I said, and again I looked to Elethenn.
"I guess I just hoped for better. This is an easy fix, though: the kitchen's just down the hall.
" And again, I tried to pour as much of myself into those words as I could, willing him to hear, hoping against hope that I hadn't entirely misread the sinnenthi standing in the room with us.
I watched it happen: something in Elethenn…
gave. Maybe it was the wet and miserable sounds Talvi was making against my shoulder as I held them tight to my chest; maybe it was the way I was looking at him; maybe it was finding himself here with me in another awful fucking meeting in which we'd both been reduced to things.
Maybe it was because here in Creche Thiel, we acknowledged that he was sinnenthi and that he had in him the capacity to defend this creche; we saw what he offered.
Or maybe it was all impulse: it was clear to me that neither Rodil nor Crozani thought much of Elethenn, that he was a glorified servant relegated to the corner. Laughable.
But I watched something shift in his stature, all the same.
"I will take Talvi for a snack," Elethenn said, shoulders straightening.
"It is reasonable, Rodil, and it will calm them.
A calm child is a cooperative one. We have learned that well these past weeks.
Come." He held out a hand and Talvi whined against me, shaking their head.
"Go on," I murmured. "You know our Elethenn will always keep you safe." And I pitched my voice so that he could hear it as he stepped in closer, and Talvi reluctantly dropped their arms from around my neck and instead raised a hand to take Elethenn's.
Rodil, absorbed in some message hovering above their wrist, made a derisive sound. "They will not find Creche Hanalthi to be quite so indulgent. You should know this, Elethenn. You have become soft in your exile."
"Perhaps," Elethenn admitted as he stepped into the hallway, Talvi practically clinging to his thigh.
"But I am not yet with Creche Hanalthi. I will enjoy indulging a child of Creche Thiel while I still may.
" And then, shooting me one quick, frightened look, Elethenn vanished down the hall beyond, Crozani idly inspecting her talons as the pair skirted past her.
I waited to act until I could hear the click of a door closing in the distance.
This was my creche; I knew the sounds of home well enough to understand how people were moving, even if I couldn't see them.
"Alright," I said, "I'm sick of being in something I've bled all over.
" I looked pointedly at Crozani, who still lingered in the hall, blaster gripped easily in her hands, and added, "You can come with me if you like.
Get a sneak peek. Rodil's already seen it all. "
Then, in a series of quick and practiced movements – I'd spent a lot of years getting up and out of rooms in short order; from one client to the next, after all – I pushed myself up and slipped through the door into the bedroom, striding across that familiar plush carpet and heading straight to the closet.
I heard Rodil and Crozani exchanging a quick flurry of words, but I didn't try to decipher them. I was on a mission.
I nudged the closet door with my hip and then threw myself at the crate where I'd shoved my meagre collection of belongings. I heaved open the lid, thrusting my hands inside. Two months ago, they'd have been shaking – but not now. I knew what I had to do.
In a way, it was fortunate that I'd never owned many things.
It meant that it only took about a breath for my hands to fasten around my swords.
Distantly, I was aware of the sound of footsteps approaching the closet door.
I rose to my feet, yanking my blades free and pivoting.
A short inhale slipped past my lips as my eyes blinked shut for a heartbeat.
Inside of me, there was a cage. I'd built it myself, bar by bar; I knew well its dimensions, its darkest corners, just as I knew the beast that lived inside.
I'd been feeding the thing inside of me here on Sozamia Station, but in truth I'd probably been nurturing it in the years and years beforehand too.
The moment expanded around me as I let the lock fall away with a gentle internal click.
The leash in my hand, beaded with delicate pearls and edged in bloodied lace, gave a firm tug and I just let it go.
This was what the wolf was for.
The footsteps hesitated. I didn't. I surged forward, shouldered my way through the door and into the room beyond where Rodil was standing, looking irritated, their blaster held loosely in one hand.
And sure, you might think that in a fight between someone with swords and someone with a gun, no one with a couple of pretty blades is going to come out on top.
Especially no one who had been known for doing not much more than dancing around with those swords, and who hadn't even used them except to cut some bushes in the Galactic Tournament of Superiority.
But I wasn't the same Sashen who'd stumbled out onto those sands.
I was faster, I was stronger, and I was meaner. And right then and there, I wanted nothing so badly as to murder the abaya standing in front of me. I wanted it like a black hole wants to devour everything around it. I wanted it in every shadowy corner of my soul – and I would have it.
Rodil had enough time to blink once in surprise. The weight of the hilts in my hands felt like coming home. I leapt and swung one blade in a violent, upward arc.
I'd wondered idly before how hard I'd have to hit someone to cleave through bone.
I found out. The blade caught Rodil's arm near the elbow, a gout of blood sputtering into the air as I slammed forward with the second blade, thrusting hard into the centre of their miserable chest and I twisted.
They barely had time to cry out before I yanked my blade backward, leaving a gaping hole punched through their sternum as they collapsed, silver blood soaking through the carpet underfoot.
A burst of concussive energy slammed into me from the back, then another, and I staggered, one hand convulsing, my blade falling to the ground.
I whirled, clocked that it was Crozani standing in the door to the meeting room, her blaster drawn before another explosion of energy kicked off, my vision going white-hot as this hit caught me in the shoulder and knocked me backwards.
I stumbled, half-collapsing against the edge of our bed as I fell to my knees.
Fuck. My eyes teared up at the crackle of energy ripping through my body, ears ringing and ringing and ringing.
It was like my chest had been hit by a shuttle, and I gasped for air, breathless.
The whine clarified into a thin voice. "– a little menace, aren't you?
Do not think you are so very special that I won't kill you, Sashen of Creche Thiel.
I suspect you are a great deal of bother. "
I wheezed out a laugh – I knew that phrase – as my arm braced hard against the side of our bed, muscles twitching of their own accord while pain juddered through each of my nerve endings.
"Yeah, I know," I gasped. "I'm a real pain in the ass.
I'm probably not even worth it. Under-ripe fruit, right?
But –" I wrenched my stare upwards, glaring at Crozani across the bedroom, "A blaster, really?
Not going to use your sword? Maybe you don't even know how to use it.
" Then, licking my lower lip, still wheezing and hoping against hope to throw her off-balance, I added, "Araxis certainly knows how to use his. "
She let out a little hiss. "You are crude, aren't you? You do not deserve the honour of death by blade, virra. You mistake your place."
I scoffed and shook my head, studying Crozani across the space of the bedroom I shared with Araxis, Rodil's corpse pooling out blood in a great silver gout. My hands had spasmed so hard from the blast that I'd dropped my other sword, but it was close, just near the stump of Rodil's flaccid arm.
Crozani saw me notice. "Do not," she said, sounding almost bored.
The muzzle of her blaster was trained directly on me, unflinching.
"Killing you like this would be a waste.
You wish the child to be safe? Then defer, virra.
If I must kill you, I will proceed to the child next.
They are worth nothing to me, and when your Araxis comes here to negotiate, I will kill him as well.
Do you think he will weep when he sees your corpse?
When he holds the child's? Would you like that horror to be what occupies his final moments, or would you wish for him to die knowing that his treasure is safe? "
And, look, I had to give her credit: it was an argument that should have worked, and she showed a lot more restraint than others would have in the same circumstance. It's just that she had discounted entirely that I wasn't here alone, despite what she thought.