Recover #2
“Do they not teach the members of your order basic logic?” Kai snapped. “I am here because you woke the Queens. They assailed their attackers, and as a result, Math unlocked my maze out of desperation. None of that was coincidence. Nor would any person of sense claim it to be.”
“The fact that Kaven just happened to know how to unlock—”
“Nope,” Math said, shaking his head. “Trying to research the Queens is what led me to the solution. It wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”
Kai lifted her chin. “Are you satisfied we did not save your life merely to deceive you, or shall I fetch ink and parchment and draw you a diagram?”
Nuhzar squinted up at her. “What is your problem, witch?”
“Rather, I should ask—what is yours?” she retorted. “Why do you treat Mathaiik like something scraped off the bottom of one’s shoe?”
“I don’t need you to defend me, Kai.” Math hadn’t meant it to sound cold, but it landed fast and flat.
She gave no outward reaction, but tension rippled through her. Still, her voice stayed calm. “I want to know.”
Math expected Nuhzar to brush her off. Instead, the knight surprised him. “Because he’s a spoiled brat.”
“Excuse me?” Math wasn’t sure who to glare at.
“You’re a spoiled brat,” Nuhzar repeated, unbothered.
“You’ve had everything handed to you. Special treatment from the moment Talu dragged you to Isofal.
You’re not even a knight, yet you’re allowed on missions.
You’ve stayed a novitiate years past when anyone else would’ve been sent to the monks.
And then there’s what you were doing to the children—”
“What I was doing to the children?” Never mind. He knew exactly who to glare at. “Excuse you?”
“No. Excuse you.” Nuhzar’s voice darkened.
“I told Talu time after time that it didn’t matter how good you were with a sword or how competently you rode or how you were so skilled at magic that the moment you finally manifested a weapon, you’d skip knight and go straight to lieutenant.
I told him that he either needed to knight you or take you out of the field. ”
Nuhzar took a breath, jaw tight.
“It wasn’t fair. Not to those kids, watching you vanish for days at a time. And not to you—put in charge of them, then sent on missions where you’d be forced to—”
He stopped. Looked away. Drew a slow breath.
Kai’s voice sliced through the silence. “Forced to do … what?” She already knew. Math felt it—her dread blooming slow and sharp.
“The Order exists to kill anything classified as a grimmock,” Nuhzar said.
“And if children meet that definition?” she whispered.
“I said what I said.”
Her hands curled into fists. Math felt the sting of her nails biting into her palms.
“And you dare call me a monster,” she breathed. Then she turned to Math, eyes dark with betrayal. “And you—!”
“Leave him alone, witch,” Nuhzar said. “He refused the order. That’s why he was punished.”
“Talu said—” Math’s mouth twisted as he searched his memory. “He always made it sound like you thought I was incompetent.”
“I complain that you don’t follow orders. I complain that you shouldn’t be in the field. But I’ve never once complained that you’re incompetent.”
Math rubbed his face. “Oh.”
“You never should’ve been sent out there—”
“You’re right,” he said.
Nuhzar blinked at him.
“You’re right,” Math repeated, softer. “I was being selfish. I didn’t want to be a failure. I wanted to manifest my weapon. And most of all, I wanted to prove I hadn’t been lying about what happened to my parents. So I kept pushing. Hoping I’d find something, find proof.”
The words came too easily—like something long dammed-up, now spilling out.
“I’m not your confidant or your new best friend, Kaven,” Nuhzar said. “I don’t care why you acted that way. Only that you did.” Before Math could make any rude gestures, he continued, “However, I do care that Talu’s been lying to you about my reports. Has he mentioned them before?”
“All the time,” Math admitted. “Never anything good.”
Nuhzar scoffed. “Well. At least now I know why you’re always such an asshole to me.”
Math blinked. “Wait. I’m the asshole?”
“Good of you to finally admit it.”
“If you weren’t injured—”
“If I weren’t, I’d kick your ass. Same as always.”
“Gentlemen!” Kaiataris cut in, sharp and imperious. “If the two of you have concluded your juvenile posturing, perhaps we might return to the matter at hand.”
Math exhaled and rubbed a hand across his brow. “I already told you, Kai. I’m going back to Bashan to make sure the Order knows what’s happening.”
Even saying it made something in him ache. The words felt heavier than they should.
Kai pointed at Nuhzar. “You have already told the Order. Let him explain it.”
“That makes it hearsay,” Math said. “I’m the one who saw everything. The one Sanistral confided in. It has to be me.” He tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but it landed crooked. Hollow. “I’m not going back alone. We have evidence. And if the captain vouches for me, I’ll be fine.”
“You will not,” she replied, voice cool but brittle. “You may be innocent of what they accuse you of, but you are not innocent of running. And innocence is no protection from dogma.”
She wasn’t wrong. He knew that—had thought it over, again and again.
The Order wouldn’t accept secondhand testimony, not when compulsion magic used on a witness was the gold standard for proof.
It had to be him. The only other option was a woman infamous for being the villain of countless children’s stories.
And if he didn’t go back—if he ran now—he wouldn’t just fail to stop Sanistral. He’d be giving up his only chance to clear his name. He’d never be able to stop running. And he’d never see his sister or the kids again.
But Tri-Mother, this hurt. What he was about to lose burned at his soul.
“It’s his decision,” Nuhzar said. “Not yours.”
“Be silent,” Kai hissed, eyes flashing. “I had begun to think you might not be entirely detestable.”
“And I’d begun to think you might not be entirely useless,” Nuhzar replied. “We can both be wrong.”
“Stop it,” Math said, turning to Kai. “Please. I know you’re upset. But unless you have a better plan, I don’t see another option.” He looked down at Nuhzar. “And Alik—try not being a mule’s ass for five minutes. I know you’ve never done it before, but it’ll be character-building.”
Kai drew a shuddery breath and turned away—too slow to hide her expression. Her pain radiated like heat. Math felt every inch of it, but there was no path forward that didn’t end in loss.
Just for a second, he wished he’d never met her.
Math stepped toward Nuhzar. “Don’t get up.”
“Why? What are you—”
“Captain Nuhzar of Swords,” Math said, his voice formal, controlled. The title landed with intent. Nuhzar’s attention snapped to him, sharp and wary.
“I’m offering to return—freely and without resistance—to testify about a far greater threat to the empire. But in exchange, you’ll let Kai go. You won’t try to bring her in. You won’t mention her.”
Nuhzar shook his head slowly. “You know I can’t promise that.”
“Then I’ll knock you out, ride off with the Souna, and you’ll never see me again.” As bluffs went, this one was painfully transparent, but Math hoped it gave Nuhzar the excuse he needed to cooperate with a clean conscience.
Math pressed on. “Damn it, Alik—according to plant-Huraiik, she’s the only human the Queens think can stop them.
Sure, that’s probably because they don’t know Sanistral’s still around, but if you’re putting your faith in him”—his mouth twisted—“that’s like asking a lion to save you from a hyena.
At the end of the day, you’re still the meal. ”
Nuhzar’s eyes narrowed. He studied them both, then exhaled sharply.
“Fine. I won’t mention Kaiataris Von. But she’s still coming with us.
Congratulations, witch—you’re now a Souna shaman who’s graciously offered to testify.
” His gaze shifted back to Math. “If she’s that important, we don’t leave her behind. ”
“I don’t want to leave her,” Math said. “But I refuse to drag her along to her death, either.”
“That is not your decision,” Kai said.
They both looked at her.
“It is not your decision,” she repeated, quieter now. “It is mine. And he is right.” She nodded toward Nuhzar. “You won’t have time to find me if you need me. Nor after you’ve taken your vows and become a knight.”
The air around Math felt too thin. He stared into her eyes and finally understood.
The problem wasn’t Nuhzar. She didn’t care about him. The problem was the Order. The vows. The system he was about to step back into. A system that would never—could never—accept her. Not as a Souna. Not as a necromancer. Certainly not as a romantic partner for one of the Order’s members.
She understood the risk every bit as much as he did. This wasn’t theoretical. This was happening here, now, and this might be the last time she stood close enough to touch.
But how could she ask him to walk away now? How could she expect him to give up the one shot he had at truth, at absolution, at being seen as something more than a liar and a failure?
She had to feel it, right? That he wasn’t abandoning her, that he didn’t want this choice? But he wasn’t sure whose despair he was feeling, whose grief.
“I rather doubt I’ll be knighted after all this, Kai.”
“And if you are? If they offer it—what will you do?”
The answer lodged in his throat. He didn’t know. And he couldn’t lie to her.
Nuhzar cut in before he had to. “Figure it out on the way,” he said sharply. “Because the time for negotiations is over. You stay with us, witch—or you run. Which is it going to be?”
He gestured east, toward the railroad tracks.
Dust rose on the horizon, spreading fast.
Math didn’t need to guess. He knew the signs of an Idallik travel spell. The reinforcements had arrived.