Chapter 6 #2
Thodin, shy, had risked a smile at me on the walk to the station while Elethenn continued his inspection of the apartment, promising to close up when he left and to call the landlord on my behalf.
When I'd protested that, he had merely smiled and said, "You tend to other business.
It is my pleasure to help you in this way. "
I insisted we stop in at Tam's on the way, because some things were easier to explain in person.
When I ducked in, he took one long look at me and the two abaya who were accompanying me – his yellow stare lingering appreciatively on Thodin, who seemed unable to look anywhere but the ground no matter where we went – and his tail flicked in amusement.
"You cancelling on me?" he asked as he dumped a handful of resistance bands into an overflowing box meant for cleaning.
It was always overflowing. I suspected Tam preferred using equipment to cleaning it.
Any passing cleanliness was, I knew, because of Dreyko, who I'd heard grousing more than once about the state of the gym's towels (just because you can't see dirt doesn't mean it's not there, Tamcer!).
"Maybe," I said. "I'll still pay you."
He rolled his eyes, which was something he'd learned from me. "Not why I'm asking. Everything okay?"
Oh. "Someone broke into my apartment," I explained, "and now I've got to go get a friend out of the ward detention centre. Those are, uh, unrelated."
He laughed, shaking his red head, his ear spines flexing with amusement.
"You know how to have a good time, pal. Although –" His eyes narrowed for a second, and he frowned.
"You said someone broke in? Might not be related, but I've had a few inquiries about you, just so you know.
People reaching out wanting to know what you're doing here, looking for any interesting, uh, revelations. "
My stomach dropped. "Oh. Did –"
"I didn't tell the fuckers anything, of course," Tam continued merrily, swinging a towel up over one broad shoulder. "It's not anyone's fucking business. But if someone broke into your place, could be they were snooping."
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "When did this happen?
" I knew Vivith had been spying on me. I would have assumed it could have been Vivith who'd broken in, except that they were at that big meeting in Central Ward with Ai'lun Industries.
And most damningly for that admittedly tantalizing theory: Vivith would never leave a mess.
"And do you know anything about the people who were nosing about? "
"All through the datasphere," Tam said. "So it could be anyone.
Had a little burst in the past couple of days.
I don't know how they figure you're here, unless there are eyes on you.
I didn't put your name on the books officially.
" At my surprise look, he snorted. "I thought you'd want a little privacy.
I was never Tournament famous, but I made a name for myself on Zebbiri.
Sometimes you just want to be left the fuck alone, right? "
"Well – thank you," I said, heat crawling up my neck. "I appreciate your… discretion."
"It's nothing," he said easily, like he really meant it. "And if anyone comes in person expecting loose lips, they're in for a rude awakening. I've got your back, kid. Or – pal. You don't like being called kid."
"Oh, you can call me kid, I guess," I said, aiming for nonchalant although it came out awfully strained. The ease of his loyalty left me almost breathless, and my eyes embarrassingly hot. "Given how old and wizened you are."
He laughed, told me to be sure I did some training on my own to make up for today, and sent us on our way, all while a simmer of uneasiness roiled away in my gut.
Because if Tam had wanted to sell some interesting stories, he had them. I'd learned in the weeks since leaving the judiciary ship that I wasn't just doomed to be woken up by awful nightmares; sometimes they were so vivid and alive that they followed me to the waking world too.
The first time I'd started crying when Tam pinned me to the ground, I was sure he would make some shitty comment and tell me to toughen up.
Instead, Tam had gone very quiet, giving me space and getting me something cool to drink and sitting with me.
I'd shivered like I was freezing, cold sweat gathered along my spine, while I tried desperately to forget what it had felt like to have Andiri's hand around my throat, choking the life from me as my heart struggled against an unstoppable black tide.
Another time, when I'd gone so still and quiet that I had felt like I was trapped in stasis while my mind screamed at me to move, Tam had walked me through some deep breaths and how to wiggle my toes and fingers and put myself back in my body.
I'd felt like I was drifting six inches above myself for the rest of the day.
Even Avelthe had asked me if I was alright when I'd gotten back to the creche, and I'd felt my body smile and make some mindless comment before I settled in to watch a theatrical production with him.
I hadn't even noticed that Adrathi had curled up next to me until the final song concluded and she squirmed against my side.
And I guess it would be one thing to look at those episodes and think that I was fragile and brittle, that what I'd been through had broken something fundamental inside of me.
But if there was a void inside of me into which I could fall, an abyss of terror and absence, there was something else lurking there too – and it was violent.
Once, we'd been practicing hits with a punching bag and something in me had snapped – Seraphim had been all over the news the night before, launching a new joint scientific venture with a biryat trading corporation, and the Shepherd who'd been interviewed at length was someone I had known as a child – and I started wailing on the bag so hard I split my knuckles open and I'd just – kept going.
Tam had wrestled my fists down and held them tight, held me tight, until I stopped gasping frantically for air, until the violence stopped singing a siren song in my body, lighting me up in a way I hadn't felt in weeks.
It had been the same urge that made me fantasize about bludgeoning the side of Grigor Spade's thick skull; the same instinct that had made me think hungrily about pinning Adelaithe Wellin to the ground and smashing her face until she didn't have one.
That was in me too, and Tam had seen it.
He'd seen it all, and he hadn't judged me and he hadn't told anyone all about the parts of me I wanted to pretend didn't exist. And it had mostly stopped: I didn't freeze or cry when Tam pinned me to the ground these days.
I was getting good at fighting back, and I'd only lost control that one time.
Although sometimes I felt the tug, somewhere deep beneath my sternum, when the taste of blood was in my mouth and my pulse was pounding like a war drum.
I didn't want to be weak, I knew that. I wanted to be the wolf. And I was learning to. I was rewriting my instincts. I was remaking myself.
I had to remind myself of that as we left Tam's gym, a little unsteady after everything from the day. The closer we got to the ward detention centre, the tighter Inmadra's features became, less sad than distraught. I was sure, if her crest was unbound, it would have been bristling.
"So is Celravi an artist?" I asked, as an attempt to make conversation.
Inmadra seemed to be chewing the inside of her cheek, so she said nothing, staring into the middle distance as we walked.
Thodin, however, perked up a little next to me. "She is very good," he murmured.
"I think I saw her work in Glimmer Ward earlier today," I tried, casting a quick glance at Inmadra to see if she'd pulled herself out of her trance of misery. No luck. "Araxis took me. We picked out a piece – a massive wall hanging of Sadri and Indiva."
The tiniest smile shaped Thodin's pale features. "I like that one too."
"Do you all work together?" I asked. Inmadra had picked up the pace, striding ahead, her shoulders tight.
Thodin shook his head. He kept his hands clasped behind his back, careful; his crest hadn't rustled once since I'd first laid eyes on him.
Ivriitan or not, his control was immaculate.
"We live together. We are not a creche, but Inmadra guides us.
" His voice was whisper-quiet, so I knew she couldn't hear his words.
She was cinelaat; I knew, because she'd explained when we had been practicing greetings. I liked the idea that, even among crecheless abaya, the desire to connect with one another was so strong that they made their own creches. That they found each other and took care of each other.
I thought of all of the abaya I'd seen at the cultural centre who just wanted to listen to a speaker. Celravi had wanted to hear Nizanin's retelling of ancient stories. Maybe she'd been looking for inspiration for her art.
That crowd had been preternaturally still and quiet, and yet the guards had claimed there'd been a riot, destruction of property, violence.
I'd thought, from the moment I'd read the article Val sent, that the claims didn't make sense.
Dozens had been arrested; I'd learned that much from another article from Val.
In the distance, I could see the lights of the guard station, its massive glowing sign spilling blue light across the intersection of tunnels.
"I was there, for a couple of minutes anyway.
They're saying it got violent after I left – but that's bullshit, isn't it?
Just another excuse to arrest people." I'd learned how to take the temperature of a crowd pretty quickly at the den, and nothing about that cultural centre had seemed like it was a pot near boiling.
It had felt almost funereal, or like a church service.