12. Kazrith
How does she avoid buckling? When everybody else I’ve seen in her position has crumbled under the pressure?
From out of the tumultuous ocean, water droplets spray our faces, the boat’s trajectory unsettled against the roaring winds. Somewhere in the unseen distance, Ikoth looms, and I just watch Hanna, studying her carefully. It’s as though I think the secret to her composure might be hidden somewhere in her dimpled cheeks, or her large, shining eyes.
She intrigues me.
She’s described her struggles in intimate detail, mostly to gain my compassion. And I’ve fallen for her manipulations with no regrets.
I’ve been watching her discreetly, trying to figure out if she’s actually serious with what we’ve agreed. She has more to lose than I do, without a doubt, and she could very well be a traitor.
But the more I’ve watched her, the more I’ve realized that she’s sincere. Considering she’s a pretty human woman, it’s nice to have her around.
The boat crashes forward, and I stabilize myself while she nearly loses her balance.
I’ve seen the defeat in the eyes of her peers. I can still see the humans, lined up at the auction block, ready to sell themselves to volvath demons who would just as easily view them as toys. When we see the unliving carcasses of humans who have given up, discarding themselves in the streets, we’ve learned not to blink. They are, after all, disposable.
But that’s not her at all.
After countless losses and very little relief, she remains steadfast, not wavering for a moment. There’s something deeply admirable about it—or perhaps something deeply foolish? After all, we all meet our untimely ends. Why is she only prolonging hers?
Would I have come out so pristine and well put-together if I had her past—if I were born a human, with her life and unending misfortune? Somehow, I do not think so. It seems stupid to maintain a shred of hope in her position.
“What is it?”
Her head swivels, and her eyes change their focus, from the vast and infinite horizon to my face. Several mynahs cry overhead, some landing atop the mainmast, while others jump and swoop around. I can see a storm approaching, but I know that we will weather it.
“Nothing,” I tell her. “I just forget how long this boat ride takes sometimes.”
“From what you’ve told me, it’ll be a while,” she says. “But I’d think you’d be used to it by now, with how much traveling you do.”
She speaks to me almost like an equal. For most of my life, I’ve been told humans are not good for more than breeding, less intelligent than our livestock. Which made it all the more perplexing why my peers were so willing to die for this companionship. The hypocrites themselves erected this societal rule. Now they suddenly view them as viable romantic partners?
Have I been lied to?
“It doesn’t make it any easier,” I tell her, not daring to convey my thoughts as I look upon her with fascination. “Yeah, I travel a lot. But if anything, the boredom just intensifies for me.”
She nods. “That’s unfortunate.”
She isn’t wrong, though. The journey ahead of us will be long. For hours, we’ve been traveling, and we’re not even a fraction of the way there. We still haven’t passed Glebe or Lezer.
“So what’s all this like? Walk me through a day in your life,” Hanna says.
I grin, then turn my head. I consider not answering her. It seems like a stupid question.
But then, maybe I’d be curious, too, if I grew up deeply impoverished and surrounded by xaphans.
“There’s not that much to it, to be honest. A lot of it is just keeping up with your customers.”
She looks at me curiously, and I realize I haven’t actually said anything meaningful.
“You bring what you think people will like, and not much more than that. Traveling light is important.”
“So it’s mostly traveling then?”
I don’t know why she takes such an interest. I’ve never had to discuss what I do with anybody before.
“I’d say it’s sixty percent traveling, twenty percent research, ten percent luck, and ten percent conversation.”
Her eyes grow wide. Her tongue swipes along her chapped bottom lip in thought, but then she gazes at me again.
“Have you ever done so poorly—had such bad luck—you wound up stranded somewhere with no way of getting home?”
I chuckle at this. “Well, my animals would have to be dead for that,” I reply honestly. “But there was a time when business was really tough, back before I met my associate. I’ve had some close calls.”
I see a faint landmass in the distance, obscured by black clouds.
“So who do you sell to? Are they all like you?”
I eye her suspiciously. “You’re asking an awful lot of questions about my business,” I tell her. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a spy.”
She stares back at me with a frown forming and I chuckle at the sheer improbability of it, while also trying to convey my humor.
It’s true that she’s competent enough to be a spy—that would even make a lot of sense. But I’m not deluded enough to think anybody cares about my business, among all of the other volvath demons. I’m a very small fish in a very large lake. That’ll change one day, though.
She laughs nervously. “Just trying to pass the time,” she says. “Figured it’s better than standing here in awkward silence.”
“How familiar are you with demons?” I ask. “Because if you don’t let me know, I’m probably going to bore you to tears.”
She shakes her head. “Not very well, I suppose,” she says. “I mean, occasionally, we see demons walking through New Solas, but I don’t ask many questions. I’ve only heard rumors of what goes on in Ikoth.”
I nod.
“So I’m a volvath demon, which is kind of the default, and kind of my major clientele,” I say, watching her to ensure I don’t lose her attention. “The soz’garoth are more magical and discerning, and sometimes, I hook the attention of a trolvar. But they don’t tend to buy from me as much.”
“I’ll pretend I know what any of those words mean.”
I think I see her eyes glazing over.
“Volvath demons just look like me, more or less. Soz’garoth are smaller, and they tend to have pointier ears and do better magic. And the trolvar have more feral attributes. If you saw a trolvar, you’d know.”
She puzzles over my words. “And… those are all the demons?” she asks.
I laugh. Then when I realize she isn’t joking, I stop. And I clear my throat instead.
“No, no. Well, there’s royalty, and then there are the matrons. They don’t live as citizens like we do—they’re on a higher rung.”
“So not worth bothering with?”
“More like I don’t want to be arrested. They’re very particular about who they deal with.”
Hanna nods. “So there’s like a hierarchy?”
“Pretty much. And I wouldn’t deal with gilak, either. They’re too stupid to care about most commerce.”
“Got it.”
The ship starts to shake more, and before I know what’s happening, the boat hits a crashing wave.
Hanna loses her balance, nearly falling onto the deck before I catch her in my arms, dipping down. Her skin is softer than I realized. She looks up at me, realizing that I hold her survival in my grasp.
She breaks away from me nervously. I huff slightly, coughing to cover up the incident.
“And you really think they’re going to go for me? Where do I fall in this hierarchy?”
I look at her seriously. “I think you probably know,” I answer. “But I guess I’ll tell you anyway. You’re just below the zonak and ur’gin demons.”
“And those are?”
“Pets and slaves.”
Immediately, I see the spirit lift from her body, her face growing suddenly gaunt.
“I see…”
For a moment, there’s an uncomfortable silence.
“But just as you don’t see that many demons in New Solas, we don’t see many humans. Which—”
“...means that I’m even more likely to stand out?”
I sigh. “Don’t interrupt me,” I say, clenching my jaw. “I was going to say that they’ll probably take care of you, regardless of your social status. Demons have a funny way of valuing novelty. They don’t see many humans, so they’ll be more enamored with you. Especially if they believe I’ve chosen you as a mate.”
At that realization, I feel a pain in my chest, however subtle. Is this jealousy I’m feeling? It’s been so long, that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
Somehow, the thought of other demons looking at her the same way I do makes me deeply uncomfortable, though I can’t put my finger on why. I might have to table that thought for later.
It seems so utterly inconsequential right now and could only be a distraction.
“...But I’m still going to be under a magnifying glass,” she says. “Meaning that I can’t draw too much more attention to myself.”
I nod.
I think of the eyes upon both of us as we make our union public and apparently official. How many will gaze upon my choice of partner and scold me for it? How many will exoticize her, treating her as a pet?
These are all misgivings Hanna mentioned. And I rightfully dismissed them.
Our scheme still needs to develop beyond the planning stages. I’d like to be looking ahead, figuring out Zathex’s plans before he does. But so much of it is still dependent on context I don’t have.
I can’t let this human girl blind me to my goals. Hanna could either be integral to my revenge, or she could be a solid distraction that obstructs my path. What role she serves is partly up to her but mostly up to me.
As I look at her, trying to conceal my admiration, I try to avert my eyes. I need to remember that this arrangement is strictly professional and could dissolve at any given moment.
“Still a long way yet,” she says.
I hum, looking out at the distant horizon. In several more hours, we’ll reach Ikoth, where I have little idea what to expect.
I still believe she’ll be welcomed with open arms and that I have no reason to worry. But the idea of something going wrong still has me somewhat concerned.
In business, you have to be prepared for any eventuality or threat.
“It’ll be over before you know it,” I reply.