Memento Mori, Chapter 27
Jun. 5th, 2012 02:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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memento_mori_11 Not having needed to use it for a few years, it took Tevak a good half-afternoon of rummaging through various jumbled cupboards to find his saltpetre, and had to corner Liega in the barely-used kitchen before she’d (reluctantly) hand over the baking supplies he needed. Making the actual smoke bomb took barely minutes – as long as it took to carefully grind a handful of ingredients together, and pour them into the container.
The big building often felt like it was breathing – the wind regularly raced down the valley and along the river, rattling the windows and whistling through cracks in the superstructure as it passed, pulling and pushing at the air within. With any luck, the brisk little breeze scudding around the old building right now would be strong enough to suck the smoke up through the air-conditioning vents, instead of letting it puddle chokingly in the basement.
Tevak crouched and set the small metal canister down just inside the entrance to the air vent, grunting with effort when his blunted steel refused to light the fuse. After a second or two of confused hissing, a spurt of aggressive flames spluttered up from the powder, coughing out thick, white smoke.
Satisfied, he rested the vent cover carefully back in place, hoping it would encourage the smoke up the pipes, rather than out into the cleaner’s cupboard, then retreated outside to watch his handiwork.
Tevak wasn’t alone for long, although he couldn’t immediately tell what Zinovy’s ulterior motive might be. Perhaps just making sure Tevak knew he knew something was up – ha. Shame he couldn’t have done that before the girl legged it.
“What’cha up to, boss?” Zinovy plopped down on a convenient tree-stump near to where Tevak stood, and followed his gaze to the slender skeins of white smoke rising from the walls of the building. His whiskers drooped at the sight. “Is-... is that smoke? You-... our home is on fire, and you’re just sat watchin’ it?”
The hart sounded genuinely dismayed; Tevak shot him a weary glance. “I know you useless bunch think I’m all muscle and no brain, but d’you really think I’d just stand an’ watch our home burn down?” He sighed. “S’a smoke bomb, Zin; sugar and stump remover. Lots of smoke, little heat. Kinda like most of the folk here, all noise and bluster an’ not much else.”
Zinovy pursed his thin lips and lifted his chin, defensively. “I knew that. I was just checkin’.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, uh... What are you trying to do, anyway?”
Unwilling to entertain any of Zinovy’s mind games, Tevak answered curtly, heading back into the station to check for results. “...What do you think I’m trying to do?”
“Okay, so, ah, lemme rephrase.” The hart followed him up the stairs to the main front door. “How is filling the place with smoke and stink gonna help you find her?”
“It’ll help me narrow down where she’s not. If the skinny wretch is hiding out in the tubes anywhere, it’ll gimme an idea where.” Tevak let the door swing closed; Zinovy skipped inside just before it could trap his serpentine tail. “Her scent led straight into a vent in the basement, an’ no-one’s seen her wriggle out yet, so there’s a good chance she’s stuck. If nothing else, we should be able to track her down.”
Bravely, the hart demurred; “I dunno, boss. Maybe you shoulda done that before making the tubes stink of owt but smoke.”
Tevak stopped and turned on the spot so quickly, Zinovy almost slammed into him. “If you got a better plan, then I’m stood here listening.” He bared his teeth in a frustrated smile, watching the smaller male stagger away backwards as though anticipating a blow. “Whose idea was it to use ribbons to keep her confined, anyway? Who didn’t want to bother with actually guarding her?”
This time, Zinovy wisely held his tongue.
“I’m sure I could find them some other useful jobs around the place, what do you reckon? Like, I don’t know. Someone’s probably gonna have to crawl up into the air ducts and check out whether she’s still hiding up there, huh? Hiding, or stuck. Or dead? Little know-it-all like you should fit nicely, what do you reckon?”
Zinovy kept his gaze semi-respectfully down. “Right, boss. So, uh... what do you want me to do?”
* * * * *
News spread rapidly through the small Library population, so by late afternoon everyone was acutely aware of what had happened. The sense of betrayal brought with it such a heavy atmosphere, it felt like you could have cut it with a knife – emotions varying from concern for the missing fessine, to disappointment that one of the most trusted could have it in them to do such horrible things to other people.
Even the weather picked up on the gloom, with fat little rainclouds rolling down off the surrounding hills and sprinkling Kust with a dozen half-hearted drizzly showers. Daylight washed thin and blue by the overcast sky encouraged the growth of shadows in the library’s long hallways. With the night-lights not yet turned on, the quiet second-floor felt particularly dark and oppressive.
Still groggy, Halli headed up to sit in the second-floor hallway outside Sarmis’ temporary prison, not really sure what she planned to say to him, only to find Rae already there. After a couple of half-hearted greetings, all that could be heard was the sound of fat raindrops through the open window, pattering softly down on the thick vegetation in the garden. No-one... really knew what to say, any more.
Sarmis finally broke the silence, the closed door muffling his words. “I’m really sorry, guys.” He sounded like he’d been completely flattened. “The whole... keeping secrets thing. I never-... I don’t know how I can ever get you to believe me, but I wasn’t involved. I was just-... I just...” He sighed, defeated, and there was a dull bonk as his head sagged back against the door. “Skeida. Even I don’t know, any more. What was I trying to achieve?”
“You could have just told us.” Halli rubbed her temples. “I doubt you’re the only one that’s been doing it.”
“I know. And I know, I shoulda said something years ago, I jus’... didn’t really know how to broach the subject.” He chuckled, despairingly. “What do you say? Hi guys, I know I tell you all of you lot to never go outside our territory, and I’m supposed to be head of security, an’ all, but I’ve been scooting out into Tevak’s land to get the gossip off his women for years!” He heaved a sigh. “Do as I say, not what I do, right? Guess it was naïve of me not to expect it to all blow up the way it did.”
“But you risked all this...?” Rae put up his hands, with a noise of disbelief. “And you handed Bee over, for, for... what, sex?”
“What? I-... no. No! Zhelma’s my friend, sure. I like to see her, and she can’t exactly come visit us. But that’s it.” Another sigh, this time of annoyance. “I’d never hand over one of us, and certainly not like this...! All that rot about sexual favours, that Odati’s got herself fixated on? Come on. You guys know my libido burned out years ago.”
The two in the hallway swapped glances; yet another of those little things that didn’t quite gel with the train of events they’d been led to believe so far. Wasn’t as if the Ghost’s lack of ‘drive’ was a secret! Even Rae, hardly resident for a whole month yet, had heard Sadie’s ridiculing of Odati’s ‘right hand spur’ – asserting that only his work had ever got him excited, to the extent that he would rather masturbate to the police newsletter than pornography. Rae had assumed it was an exaggeration, at the time – but who knew, any more?
A cramp sneaked up out of the dark, and bit into the back of Rae’s leg; one great big ice-pick fang that made him grunt and double up, involuntarily. A prelude to actual shifting, according to Sadie – fantastic. Any day now, he’d be running around on all fours, going crazy as his brain swelled up, and biting people... until they kicked him out, of course. He ground his teeth against the pain, and tried to massage the knot out of his right calf.
“Another cramp? They’re getting worse?”
He glanced up to meet Halli’s anxious golden gaze, and just nodded, at first. “More frequent, anyway,” he hissed, through gritted teeth, trying to concentrate on getting the muscle to unclench. “Maybe a bit shorter-lived. I’m not sure if that’s better, or just worries me more. More frequent means I’m closer to turning into an animal, right?”
Halli nodded, sombrely. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
Rae forced a smile, stretching his leg and at last persuading the cramp to relax. “Sooner we find Bee and the cure, the better, huh?” He chuckled, but it rapidly turned into a terse sigh. “...anyone got any bright ideas how we’re gonna do that? Since even Tevak apparently ain’t got a clue where she’s gone.” After another pause, to rethink, he added; “unless that’s another chunk of some big old ruse, to get us off the scent.”
“Odati might be right that I was rubbish as a cop, but I still got the knack for finding folk. You know I’d help you,” Sarmis reminded, faintly. “You can still trust me, I swear. It-... it was only a little slip. I didn’t do any harm.”
“A little slip, which you continued to perpetuate for the last twenty years or so anyway?” Halli challenged.
Sarmis didn’t answer.
The zaar sighed, and let the back of her head bump tiredly against the wall. “I know I’m going to probably regret saying this, but I do trust you.”
Rae shot her a surprised glance – the gruff fal had always come across as only a shade or two less hostile towards the spur than Sadie – but held his tongue.
“We might not always see eye-to-eye, but if there’s one thing I know for sure about you, Sam, it’s that you’re a good person. And I know you wouldn’t hand over the most vulnerable person here, like that – certainly not for some sort of reward. You just... picked the wrong time to finally get honest with us, and let someone take advantage of it.”
Rae nodded his agreement, seeing the angle Halli was coming from. “Odati needs to look like she’s doing something, because right now she doesn’t have a clue. You’re a convenient scapegoat.”
Behind his door, Sarmis remained quiet; it didn’t take too much thought to imagine the look that must be on his face – lips pursed, eyes downcast, hurting at the betrayal. All those years of unwavering, faithful, obedient service, ignored. Just... dumped on his backside. Kept around to be the fall guy.
Halli gave Rae a long, concerned look, and checked the corridor was empty before finally speaking, in hushed tones that were barely audible even to the spur sitting right next to her. “I’m worried it goes deeper than that.”
Rae quirked a brow. “What do you mean? You don’t think she’s involved, do you? I-I mean... properly involved, in a bad way...?”
The zaar shook her head, grimly, lips compressed in a thin, concerned line. “I don’t know. Normally, the thought would never even come to mind – but none of this is normal, is it? And she’s been so keen to point the finger at everyone else. First it was me, then Sadie, and now Sam. It’s like she’s desperate to keep attention off herself-”
“Or we’re all just really suspicious characters,” Rae interrupted, joking grimly. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence. She’s worried about the rest of us, since Bee was taken – we’ve just got suspicious of each other.”
“Rae?” Halli waited until the dark spur went silent again. “She knew what Sett told us, before we told anyone else we’d even met him. She lurked out in the corridor and heard we’d bumped into him-”
“But that still doesn’t mean-”
“She knew someone had ‘sold’ Blink, before we mentioned it to anyone.”
Rae went silent, for a moment. It felt like someone had drawn a set of very cold fingers up his back. “We-... we told Sadie,” he reminded. “Could she have said something?”
“Arch rivals, now partners in crime?”
“Uh-... yeah.” Rae scratched the back of his neck. “Good point.”
“So she’s either been spying on us and overheard, or – and I’m thinking this is more likely... she’s slipped up in a fairly major way.” Halli hesitated, and lowered her voice. “What if it was her all along?”
“But what possible reason could she have-?” Sarmis finally dislodged the lump in his throat. “I could invent a motive for everyone else here that she’s accused.”
“I don’t know.” Halli covered her face with her hands, and rubbed her eyes. “Maybe it’s just to get Blink out of the way. It’s clear she doesn’t like her.”
“She-... she’d never do that,” Sarmis asserted, although he didn’t sound so sure of himself. “Sell someone into slavery, just because she’s not fond of them? No, not Odati; she might make life here a nightmare, or kick someone out if it’s bad enough, but she wouldn’t hand them over to the enemy...”
Before Halli could protest further, Rae jumped in. “We’ll try and track down Bee first,” he suggested. “Once she’s safe, we can indulge ourselves with all the finger pointing we like, right?”
“That’s going to involve going back onto their land,” Halli pointed out, glumly. “And she could be anywhere. Not to mention, Tevak will no doubt be watching for us. Wherever do we start looking?”
“There’s a thousand hiding places around the old station.” Sarmis rustled around in his room for a moment; a piece of paper slipped out under his door. “She might not have gone far, especially if she’s hungry.”
Rae took the paper and examined it; the lines had grown faint, down the years, but it was still usable – a map of the old city. His ears perked with a sudden burst of optimism. “Assuming they’ve not changed it much, what do you remember of the area? Could you gimme some pointers, so I don’t walk smack into trouble?”
“Sure. Bring the maps up here, we can look over ‘em in my room. We ought to at least make it look like we’re playing by her rules, if just to keep the peace...”
* * * * *
Muted clicks and chirps finally attracted Blink out of a deep, dreamless sleep.
At first, her subconscious refused to spit out any details of what had happened, and she swam around in a confused murk for a while, wondering why do I ache and why am I on the floor. Am I dead? Again. Finally, she managed to open her eyes, and immediately flinched back again as a flood of brilliant white light seared her retinas. Oww. Trying again, warily, she peered cautiously through squinted eyelids, letting her pupils acclimatise slowly, and found the light wasn’t so bright after all – just watery daylight, spilling in through the doorway.
One of her rescuers sat opposite her, and perked its head curiously to one side at seeing her stir. Only now day had broken could Blink see its predominantly grey pelt, in contrast to the dark, dramatically-striped brown-and-gold fur of its peers.
The wise old woman? she wondered, dragging her brain slowly up out of the mire; confusion sucked at her memories in the same way the glutinous river mud had sucked on her feet, unwilling to let them go so she could get a good look at what had happened. She fumbled for her translation loop, and jammed the earpiece clumsily into her ear.
“Are you feeling better?” Blink’s visitor wondered, in a voice just like all the other near-identical female voices Blink had heard so far – so even the translator wasn’t smart enough to tell the chirping danata language apart.
The fessine grunted softly with effort, and pushed herself to a wobbly sitting position, wrapping the blanket a little tighter around herself. The idea of looking at her filthy, bruised body turned her stomach. “A little. Thank you.” Her stiff muscles protested at the lie the only way they knew how – by reminding her how much she ached. It felt like she’d never function normally ever again. She adjusted the earpiece a little more comfortably around her ear. “What time is it?”
“Not long since dawn. We are still in the first tenth.”
“What?” Blink wiped her face with a trembling hand. “I barely slept? No wonder I’m still exhausted.”
“You are tired because you are weak,” the danata corrected. “You slept all day, and all night, and did not even wake when we tended your wounds.”
Blink frowned, tiredly. “...really?”
“You have been here a full day.” The danata looked back at her, antennae perked forwards and waving thoughtfully. “You are tired because you are still hungry, and sick. We dressed your injuries with antiseptic, but it will take your body some time to heal them.” She offered a subtle expression that looked vaguely like a smile. “Mother says I may take you to clean yourself, when you feel well enough to move. Maybe that will make you feel better?”
Blink made a little noise of reluctant agreement. “...maybe.” She flexed her sore hands, wincing. Rinds of inflamed red skin peeked from beneath the dull white of the bandages, but at least they didn’t look quite so swollen, the flesh quite so boggy. Her stiff fingers would at least bend (reluctantly) like they were supposed to again.
She shuffled towards the open door on her bottom, wanting to reorient herself, and squinted out into the sunshine. She didn’t remember sunlight feeling quite so hostile before, as though she were looking into an arc welder rather than the watery golden light of morning. “What’s your name?”
“Duskwing. People may also tell you I am a nuisance, but it is not my name.” Her fluffy helper slipped past her and out through the door, to greet an approaching pair of darker individuals. “We imagined you would be hungry, so my sisters have brought you something to eat.”
Blink watched as they bowed to each other, wings flicking, and touched their antennae together in greeting. The newcomers didn’t stay long – only long enough to drop off the trays of food, and head away on some other errand. Watching Duskwing bustle about, sorting through the bowls, Blink noticed their names must be descriptive – the sooty tips to the slightly amber wings had presumably given this danata her name – which made her worry slightly about the implications of the ‘Nuisance’ part...
“It has been a very long time since we entertained one of your kind – certainly before I hatched – and we are not familiar with what you eat,” Duskwing explained, setting the selection of bowls in front of their large guest. “So our store-keeper sent a variety. I hope at least something is palatable.”
Blink used a fingertip to delicately poke through the foods, trying not to maul it too much; all very simple items, like fruit or fish, all cut into precise little pieces – although that was as far as the ‘cookery’ went – and all looking delicious in its simplicity. “It looks wonderful. Thank you...”
The first bowl of cool, juicy fruit wasn’t even very sweet, but it made her mouth cramp painfully in pleasure. Her stomach groaned quietly in sympathy, pleading with her to fill it faster – and she was only too happy to oblige its request. It took every ounce of self-control not to eat faster than she could swallow.
The last bowl had a cover, which held back a very peculiar smell that emerged when Blink removed the lid – hard and rather pungent, like strong cheese, making her nostrils itch, and she had to work hard not to insult her generous hosts by turning her nose up at it. “What-... what’s this?” Is it even food?
“It is hékali; cooked, preserved fish,” Duskwing explained, leaning forwards to pick out a cube. She gave it a squeeze, to demonstrate. “Very soft and easily digested. We give it to our children – I imagine my sisters thought it would be good for you, too.”
Blink looked warily at the translucent white cubes of pungent flesh. “I’m not sure. I-... Odati said she thought I was allergic to fish.” Her own words made her uneasy – the night she’d discovered her supposed allergy had been the same night she’d been drugged and abducted. It was quite obvious now that symptoms had just been the drug kicking in. How had Odati got that wrong?
Come on, Bee, she scolded, inwardly. You can’t blame her for not suspecting someone had drugged you.
On the upside, it meant – hopefully! – that the fish was acceptable to eat. Her stomach was still griping, after all, and a little protein may be enough to finally quiet it. Holding her breath to avoid the distracting, chemical smell, she popped the cube of meat in her mouth.
The taste was surprisingly pleasant; delicate, slightly sweet, almost like the taste of sprouted seeds, nothing like the fish that Aron had prepared. She chewed – somewhat perfunctorily, at the behest of her whining stomach – and swallowed-
...then the ammonia hit her, just as she passed the point of no return. A great heavy wave of it, like an unexpected whiff from the latrine, it rushed up the back of her nose and stung her throat, making her choke. Startled into a gasp, she then almost inhaled the macerated cube of fish, and was reduced to a fit of helpless, gagging spluttering.
After several minutes of eye-watering retching, strength of will alone kept the small rancid cube of meat in her stomach. “I-I’m sorry,” she wheezed, accepting the basin of water the anxious danata was holding up for her. “I wasn’t-... wasn’t expecting the smell.”
Duskwing perked her head to one side, watching the fessine gulp down water to try and wash away the aftertaste. “Forgive me. I had not anticipated you would react like that,” she apologised. “We must perceive substances in a different manner to you.”
Blink forced a smile, and coughed feebly to try and clear the aftertaste from where it still lingered at the back of her throat. “I’ll just have to be more careful, next time.”
Her peaceful breakfast didn’t last long. A flock of about fifteen undersized, fuzzy, curious danata flooded in through one of the inner doors, and gathered around her feet, chirping and squeaking and overloading Blink’s translation earpiece as they vied for her attention. Most were greyish-brown in colour, with stubby little winglets on their backs, but the very smallest were pure white all over, wingless and sufficiently rotund that they resembled fluffy little seedheads.
“Hello there,” Blink greeted, amusedly, not caring that they likely didn’t understand her. “Who are you all?”
It rapidly became a scene of organised chaos, with the bigger infants happily climbing over each other to take a turn at greeting the ‘warmblood’ newcomer. The fessine petted them all in turn, letting them touch her hands and familiarise themselves with her ‘smell’; the constantly-moving antennae on their brows fascinated her. They never seemed to sit still!
The two little white puffs of thistledown didn’t seem too interested in saying hello; their minds were firmly fixed on food, and while everyone else was bustling around with greetings, they helped themselves to the bowl of vile-smelling fish. When Blink next looked down, they’d polished off the entire bowlful, and had moved on to optimistically checking the other containers for leftover scraps.
“How can you eat that?” she wondered, out loud.
Not expecting an answer, the voice made her jump; “It is soft, rich in protein, and easily digested.”
Blink glanced up to find an adult watching her; sprinkled all over with white hairs, she wore a purple and blue silk flower woven into the fur of her head and looked significantly older than any of the other smaller danata Blink had yet encountered.
“Hékali is the best food for the lapsi. It does not matter that their mandibles are weak, they chew it with no problems,” the older imago went on, echoing Duskwing’s words from earlier. “I am Wears Blossom. These nymphs are my brood.” She spread her hands to encompass all the little danata, which had finally begun to calm down and settle in little groups on the floor. “I look after them and teach them. Matica says you are to help me?”
“Well, I knew I was going to be helping someone.” Blink pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself up a little. “Until now, I hadn’t really been awake enough to know how or who. What do you want me to do?”
Wears Blossom bowed her head and flicked her wings. “Tend to your ablutions first,” she advised. “We will discuss tasks once you are clean and more comfortable.”
Duskwing moved in and claimed Blink’s hand in two of her own, tugging gently to coax the laima into motion. “Come, friend. The spring from which we obtain our water is higher on the hillside.”
Blink allowed herself to be led, crawling out through the low door on all fours. More walking? she wondered, her heart sinking. “Don’t you have a washroom somewhere?”
Duskwing watched the fessine wobble first to her knees, then to her feet, wearing the blanket wrapped around her as a sort of dress. “You have a whole room, just for washing?”
That’d be a ‘no’, then. “How-... how about some clothes?” Given her current track record for success, Blink couldn’t find the strength to feel particularly optimistic, walking slowly behind her small host, up the grassy slope alongside a small, chattering brook.
“My sisters have gone to fetch you some from the city,” Duskwing confirmed. “Although they were not sure how big you are. They should be back by sun-high.”
Well, even just a little bit of good news was still good news, and the idea of finally getting some coverings did give her mood a little boost. Blink couldn’t quite work out precisely where her aversion to looking at her body had come from – perhaps it was just a natural consequence of all the repeated demonstrations of her vulnerability? Or just the knowledge that all the parts of her body that polite society dictated that she covered up were very much on show, for all and anyone to look at. She unconsciously tugged the blanket a tiny bit tighter.
“...thank you for rescuing me,” she said, quietly, at last remembering her manners. “You didn’t have to, and you put yourself in danger, so I really appreciate it. Without you, I-... I might not have lasted much longer.”
Duskwing looked back up at her, antennae waving. “You asked for our help, and were being maltreated. It would have been unforgivable to allow such abuse to continue,” she reasoned, amiably. “I am glad that you are already beginning to look better.”
Blink was learning to interpret the danata’s expression as one of either aggression or amiable alertness, depending on context – the small female seemed to enjoy talking, and wasn’t making any angry noises, so Blink took it to be a good-humoured expression. “That’s as maybe, but I owe you such a debt. If there’s ever anything I can do for you...”
Duskwing flicked her wings and offered a very clear smile. “If you would teach me about your species, I would consider it adequate payment,” she suggested.
“Oh. Uh-... I’m not sure I’ll be much help. I-... I’m not a very normal laima.” Goodness, if that wasn’t contender for understatement of the year...! Blink stumbled across the words, trying not to sound like she was just making excuses to get out of it. “I’ll tell you what I can, if-… if I can.”
Duskwing seemed satisfied, though. “Wears Blossom remembers the days before the disease killed the other warmbloods,” she explained, perking her antennae. “She used to teach me about them, until my sisters said it was encouraging me to waste my time with unhelpful flights of fancy.” The danata made a funny little noise that sounded for all the world like a snort of irritation.
So... her helper was not an old woman, but an adolescent? That would explain the similarity between her mostly-grey pelt and the little grey fuzzballs back at the their scrambling colony. “Is that how you both understand my language?”
“Partly.” Duskwing hopped up onto a low ridge of rocks, from behind which the murmur of splashing water could just be heard. “I thought it would serve our colony well to re-open trade with your people, but Travels Far considers them too dangerous.” She perked her head to the side, and clicked quietly. “After finding the condition in which they held you, a fellow warmblood, I see now that she was right.”
Blink pursed her lips in a regretful smile that was not echoed in her eyes. “Not everyone is bad,” she reassured, unable to shake the feeling that she was lying through her teeth. “You just... remember the bad ones better.”
“That is true.” Duskwing smiled. “You do not seem a bad person.”
Resisting the urge to correct her, Blink instead peered over the rocks to find a secluded pool, obviously artificial; pieces of the plastic liner peeked through the layer of sand that smoothed over the floor. The spring gurgled into the pool out of a seam in the rocks a little higher up – she couldn’t help wondering if it too was actually artificial – and flowed back out over a little rill at the southernmost point, forming the river they had followed up the hill. A small, heavily-weathered wooden box at ground level held grooming implements – mostly a variety of combs and brushes, but hidden away in the bottom was a coarse lump of hard white soap. It lacked the sweet, floral scent of her bottle back at the Library, and even the skin-friendly smooth texture, but she had no doubt it would work well enough.
“I will stand watch for my sisters. They should bring your clothes here.” Duskwing bowed politely, and fluttered up to a higher vantage point in a tree, leaving Blink to her bath.
Blink watched her go, feeling an undeniable twinge of jealousy that the little creature flew so easily.
Don’t, Blink. She squashed the emotion with difficulty. Not over something so... so ridiculous. She can’t help that she can fly! Her family offered you food and shelter, and asked for little in exchange. Don’t let that hideous jealous monster inside of you poison yet another friendship; it’s not her fault she reminds you of what you threw away.
Danata appeared not to wear clothes of any sort at all, so why Duskwing would care that she was naked, Blink had no idea, but it still took an unusual effort to cast off the blanket and her shredded underwear, and step down into the water of the spring. She hissed softly through her teeth as the cold water enveloped her small feet, the painfully chilly water making her skin contract and her muscles cramp. Fortunately, the sting was fleeting, her body acclimatising quickly, and the cool spring water soothed her still-sore muscles.
Coarse and hard though it might be, the lump of pale soap at least managed to generate an appealing lather, which readily loosened the dirt from her skin. It felt indescribably good to have the awkward tightness of caked-on filth on her skin finally gone.
Blink carefully peeled back the soggy bandages on her wrists, working delicately to avoid damaging the skin further. Each layer she removed revealed a little more of the raw, inflamed tissue and new paper-thin skin, but she was reassured to find her damaged flesh didn’t look as bad as she’d feared. Whether it had been Tevak’s antibiotics, danata antiseptics, some innate laima resistance to bacteria, or a combination of all three, Blink wasn’t sure, but the fledgling infection had been stopped in its tracks. Gingerly, she washed the residue of antiseptic cream away from her skin, and found it didn’t even hurt quite so badly as she’d expected.
Wonderful though it was to be clean, it made her injuries all the more visible. Blink bit her lip, struggling to control the upwelling of emotion. Look at you, girl. You’re a mess. She used the pad of her thumb to trace the stern white line that marched up the back of her arm, until it vanished into the purple inkblot of a bruise. The tracery of fine scars dividing her skin into a geometric patchwork echoed the scratches and welds she’d picked up in her old life, but the bruises swarming like a noxious oilslick under her skin swallowed them up.
It seemed almost poetic, in a macabre sort of way – as if to say that all the scars of her old life, all of the triumphs and tragedies emblazoned on her skin for the world to see? All would be covered up and forgotten by the new life, if she let it.
And all that so-called prettiness he was so concerned with having for himself counted for nothing, did it? It didn’t stop him abusing you, hurting you. With effort, Blink tore her attention away from her damaged wrists and concentrated on her soap, working slowly down over her chest. Her ribs still ached, her breasts still sore and bruised where she’d fallen on them.
You have to make a decision, her subconscious chimed in, quietly. You can keep running all you like, but he’s not going to stop chasing you. If you can’t put yourself right out of reach, the only way he’ll stop is if you kill him. She snorted a hopeless laugh. Which would involve going near him again, and somehow being stronger than he is. Not to mention, you’re not exactly the murdering sort.
You can’t sit up here forever, being maudlin, either. While you hide away and chew yourself up over who might have been responsible, the real culprit gets away unchallenged. Sitting brooding, tormenting yourself with imagined infractions, is what turned you into that horrible resentful creature that poisoned your love for your best friend.
“But what do I do now?” she challenged, out loud, but her pessimism predictably remained silent.
By the time she’d finally satisfied herself that every last tiny trace of dirt was gone, and emerged to dry off, Duskwing’s older sisters had arrived. The search party had gathered quite a selection of clothes in various sizes, some slightly too big and baggy, some slightly too small, but at last Blink found enough to cover herself to her satisfaction. She glanced back down at her hand, and the criss-crossing scars on the back of her arm, and resisted the urge to tug her cuffs all the way down to her fingertips.
Whatever this new life throws at you, it’ll never erase your memories, Blink reassured herself, squeezing her long fingers into a determined fist. Because when the bruises heal, the marks beneath will shine through again. A fleeting problem will never erase a lifetime of memories, emblazoned forever on your skin. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?
“And you survived everything else the universe has thrown at you,” she added, under her breath. “So you’ll survive this, too.”
...if only her thoughts didn’t keep straying to the idea she may some day have to face Tevak again, and that the meeting may have to result in one of their deaths.
* * * * *
A shrill shriek of alarm rudely barged an exhausted Halli out of her sleep.
That sounded like Aspazija! The zaar tottered out of her bedroom and collided bodily with Sadie. “Did you hear that?”
The hind barely acknowledged the question, bolting for the entrance.
Sadie skidded to a halt before she’d even hit the bottom of the stairs, her little hooves scooting out from under her and dumping her painfully on her backside. Halli almost tripped clean over her, and a split-second later Aron crashed into her from behind. The potential accident went barely-noticed, compared to the scene in front of them.
In the middle of the foyer, Aspazija stood in an awkward semi-crouch, whimpering and trying to support herself on bent legs, instead of letting her weight dangle precariously from the fingers laced into her hair.
Tevak smiled, showing his teeth. “Good morning, you revolting bunch of weaklings. We need to have a little talk...”
137869 ♥ 200000
The big building often felt like it was breathing – the wind regularly raced down the valley and along the river, rattling the windows and whistling through cracks in the superstructure as it passed, pulling and pushing at the air within. With any luck, the brisk little breeze scudding around the old building right now would be strong enough to suck the smoke up through the air-conditioning vents, instead of letting it puddle chokingly in the basement.
Tevak crouched and set the small metal canister down just inside the entrance to the air vent, grunting with effort when his blunted steel refused to light the fuse. After a second or two of confused hissing, a spurt of aggressive flames spluttered up from the powder, coughing out thick, white smoke.
Satisfied, he rested the vent cover carefully back in place, hoping it would encourage the smoke up the pipes, rather than out into the cleaner’s cupboard, then retreated outside to watch his handiwork.
Tevak wasn’t alone for long, although he couldn’t immediately tell what Zinovy’s ulterior motive might be. Perhaps just making sure Tevak knew he knew something was up – ha. Shame he couldn’t have done that before the girl legged it.
“What’cha up to, boss?” Zinovy plopped down on a convenient tree-stump near to where Tevak stood, and followed his gaze to the slender skeins of white smoke rising from the walls of the building. His whiskers drooped at the sight. “Is-... is that smoke? You-... our home is on fire, and you’re just sat watchin’ it?”
The hart sounded genuinely dismayed; Tevak shot him a weary glance. “I know you useless bunch think I’m all muscle and no brain, but d’you really think I’d just stand an’ watch our home burn down?” He sighed. “S’a smoke bomb, Zin; sugar and stump remover. Lots of smoke, little heat. Kinda like most of the folk here, all noise and bluster an’ not much else.”
Zinovy pursed his thin lips and lifted his chin, defensively. “I knew that. I was just checkin’.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, uh... What are you trying to do, anyway?”
Unwilling to entertain any of Zinovy’s mind games, Tevak answered curtly, heading back into the station to check for results. “...What do you think I’m trying to do?”
“Okay, so, ah, lemme rephrase.” The hart followed him up the stairs to the main front door. “How is filling the place with smoke and stink gonna help you find her?”
“It’ll help me narrow down where she’s not. If the skinny wretch is hiding out in the tubes anywhere, it’ll gimme an idea where.” Tevak let the door swing closed; Zinovy skipped inside just before it could trap his serpentine tail. “Her scent led straight into a vent in the basement, an’ no-one’s seen her wriggle out yet, so there’s a good chance she’s stuck. If nothing else, we should be able to track her down.”
Bravely, the hart demurred; “I dunno, boss. Maybe you shoulda done that before making the tubes stink of owt but smoke.”
Tevak stopped and turned on the spot so quickly, Zinovy almost slammed into him. “If you got a better plan, then I’m stood here listening.” He bared his teeth in a frustrated smile, watching the smaller male stagger away backwards as though anticipating a blow. “Whose idea was it to use ribbons to keep her confined, anyway? Who didn’t want to bother with actually guarding her?”
This time, Zinovy wisely held his tongue.
“I’m sure I could find them some other useful jobs around the place, what do you reckon? Like, I don’t know. Someone’s probably gonna have to crawl up into the air ducts and check out whether she’s still hiding up there, huh? Hiding, or stuck. Or dead? Little know-it-all like you should fit nicely, what do you reckon?”
Zinovy kept his gaze semi-respectfully down. “Right, boss. So, uh... what do you want me to do?”
News spread rapidly through the small Library population, so by late afternoon everyone was acutely aware of what had happened. The sense of betrayal brought with it such a heavy atmosphere, it felt like you could have cut it with a knife – emotions varying from concern for the missing fessine, to disappointment that one of the most trusted could have it in them to do such horrible things to other people.
Even the weather picked up on the gloom, with fat little rainclouds rolling down off the surrounding hills and sprinkling Kust with a dozen half-hearted drizzly showers. Daylight washed thin and blue by the overcast sky encouraged the growth of shadows in the library’s long hallways. With the night-lights not yet turned on, the quiet second-floor felt particularly dark and oppressive.
Still groggy, Halli headed up to sit in the second-floor hallway outside Sarmis’ temporary prison, not really sure what she planned to say to him, only to find Rae already there. After a couple of half-hearted greetings, all that could be heard was the sound of fat raindrops through the open window, pattering softly down on the thick vegetation in the garden. No-one... really knew what to say, any more.
Sarmis finally broke the silence, the closed door muffling his words. “I’m really sorry, guys.” He sounded like he’d been completely flattened. “The whole... keeping secrets thing. I never-... I don’t know how I can ever get you to believe me, but I wasn’t involved. I was just-... I just...” He sighed, defeated, and there was a dull bonk as his head sagged back against the door. “Skeida. Even I don’t know, any more. What was I trying to achieve?”
“You could have just told us.” Halli rubbed her temples. “I doubt you’re the only one that’s been doing it.”
“I know. And I know, I shoulda said something years ago, I jus’... didn’t really know how to broach the subject.” He chuckled, despairingly. “What do you say? Hi guys, I know I tell you all of you lot to never go outside our territory, and I’m supposed to be head of security, an’ all, but I’ve been scooting out into Tevak’s land to get the gossip off his women for years!” He heaved a sigh. “Do as I say, not what I do, right? Guess it was naïve of me not to expect it to all blow up the way it did.”
“But you risked all this...?” Rae put up his hands, with a noise of disbelief. “And you handed Bee over, for, for... what, sex?”
“What? I-... no. No! Zhelma’s my friend, sure. I like to see her, and she can’t exactly come visit us. But that’s it.” Another sigh, this time of annoyance. “I’d never hand over one of us, and certainly not like this...! All that rot about sexual favours, that Odati’s got herself fixated on? Come on. You guys know my libido burned out years ago.”
The two in the hallway swapped glances; yet another of those little things that didn’t quite gel with the train of events they’d been led to believe so far. Wasn’t as if the Ghost’s lack of ‘drive’ was a secret! Even Rae, hardly resident for a whole month yet, had heard Sadie’s ridiculing of Odati’s ‘right hand spur’ – asserting that only his work had ever got him excited, to the extent that he would rather masturbate to the police newsletter than pornography. Rae had assumed it was an exaggeration, at the time – but who knew, any more?
A cramp sneaked up out of the dark, and bit into the back of Rae’s leg; one great big ice-pick fang that made him grunt and double up, involuntarily. A prelude to actual shifting, according to Sadie – fantastic. Any day now, he’d be running around on all fours, going crazy as his brain swelled up, and biting people... until they kicked him out, of course. He ground his teeth against the pain, and tried to massage the knot out of his right calf.
“Another cramp? They’re getting worse?”
He glanced up to meet Halli’s anxious golden gaze, and just nodded, at first. “More frequent, anyway,” he hissed, through gritted teeth, trying to concentrate on getting the muscle to unclench. “Maybe a bit shorter-lived. I’m not sure if that’s better, or just worries me more. More frequent means I’m closer to turning into an animal, right?”
Halli nodded, sombrely. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
Rae forced a smile, stretching his leg and at last persuading the cramp to relax. “Sooner we find Bee and the cure, the better, huh?” He chuckled, but it rapidly turned into a terse sigh. “...anyone got any bright ideas how we’re gonna do that? Since even Tevak apparently ain’t got a clue where she’s gone.” After another pause, to rethink, he added; “unless that’s another chunk of some big old ruse, to get us off the scent.”
“Odati might be right that I was rubbish as a cop, but I still got the knack for finding folk. You know I’d help you,” Sarmis reminded, faintly. “You can still trust me, I swear. It-... it was only a little slip. I didn’t do any harm.”
“A little slip, which you continued to perpetuate for the last twenty years or so anyway?” Halli challenged.
Sarmis didn’t answer.
The zaar sighed, and let the back of her head bump tiredly against the wall. “I know I’m going to probably regret saying this, but I do trust you.”
Rae shot her a surprised glance – the gruff fal had always come across as only a shade or two less hostile towards the spur than Sadie – but held his tongue.
“We might not always see eye-to-eye, but if there’s one thing I know for sure about you, Sam, it’s that you’re a good person. And I know you wouldn’t hand over the most vulnerable person here, like that – certainly not for some sort of reward. You just... picked the wrong time to finally get honest with us, and let someone take advantage of it.”
Rae nodded his agreement, seeing the angle Halli was coming from. “Odati needs to look like she’s doing something, because right now she doesn’t have a clue. You’re a convenient scapegoat.”
Behind his door, Sarmis remained quiet; it didn’t take too much thought to imagine the look that must be on his face – lips pursed, eyes downcast, hurting at the betrayal. All those years of unwavering, faithful, obedient service, ignored. Just... dumped on his backside. Kept around to be the fall guy.
Halli gave Rae a long, concerned look, and checked the corridor was empty before finally speaking, in hushed tones that were barely audible even to the spur sitting right next to her. “I’m worried it goes deeper than that.”
Rae quirked a brow. “What do you mean? You don’t think she’s involved, do you? I-I mean... properly involved, in a bad way...?”
The zaar shook her head, grimly, lips compressed in a thin, concerned line. “I don’t know. Normally, the thought would never even come to mind – but none of this is normal, is it? And she’s been so keen to point the finger at everyone else. First it was me, then Sadie, and now Sam. It’s like she’s desperate to keep attention off herself-”
“Or we’re all just really suspicious characters,” Rae interrupted, joking grimly. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence. She’s worried about the rest of us, since Bee was taken – we’ve just got suspicious of each other.”
“Rae?” Halli waited until the dark spur went silent again. “She knew what Sett told us, before we told anyone else we’d even met him. She lurked out in the corridor and heard we’d bumped into him-”
“But that still doesn’t mean-”
“She knew someone had ‘sold’ Blink, before we mentioned it to anyone.”
Rae went silent, for a moment. It felt like someone had drawn a set of very cold fingers up his back. “We-... we told Sadie,” he reminded. “Could she have said something?”
“Arch rivals, now partners in crime?”
“Uh-... yeah.” Rae scratched the back of his neck. “Good point.”
“So she’s either been spying on us and overheard, or – and I’m thinking this is more likely... she’s slipped up in a fairly major way.” Halli hesitated, and lowered her voice. “What if it was her all along?”
“But what possible reason could she have-?” Sarmis finally dislodged the lump in his throat. “I could invent a motive for everyone else here that she’s accused.”
“I don’t know.” Halli covered her face with her hands, and rubbed her eyes. “Maybe it’s just to get Blink out of the way. It’s clear she doesn’t like her.”
“She-... she’d never do that,” Sarmis asserted, although he didn’t sound so sure of himself. “Sell someone into slavery, just because she’s not fond of them? No, not Odati; she might make life here a nightmare, or kick someone out if it’s bad enough, but she wouldn’t hand them over to the enemy...”
Before Halli could protest further, Rae jumped in. “We’ll try and track down Bee first,” he suggested. “Once she’s safe, we can indulge ourselves with all the finger pointing we like, right?”
“That’s going to involve going back onto their land,” Halli pointed out, glumly. “And she could be anywhere. Not to mention, Tevak will no doubt be watching for us. Wherever do we start looking?”
“There’s a thousand hiding places around the old station.” Sarmis rustled around in his room for a moment; a piece of paper slipped out under his door. “She might not have gone far, especially if she’s hungry.”
Rae took the paper and examined it; the lines had grown faint, down the years, but it was still usable – a map of the old city. His ears perked with a sudden burst of optimism. “Assuming they’ve not changed it much, what do you remember of the area? Could you gimme some pointers, so I don’t walk smack into trouble?”
“Sure. Bring the maps up here, we can look over ‘em in my room. We ought to at least make it look like we’re playing by her rules, if just to keep the peace...”
Muted clicks and chirps finally attracted Blink out of a deep, dreamless sleep.
At first, her subconscious refused to spit out any details of what had happened, and she swam around in a confused murk for a while, wondering why do I ache and why am I on the floor. Am I dead? Again. Finally, she managed to open her eyes, and immediately flinched back again as a flood of brilliant white light seared her retinas. Oww. Trying again, warily, she peered cautiously through squinted eyelids, letting her pupils acclimatise slowly, and found the light wasn’t so bright after all – just watery daylight, spilling in through the doorway.
One of her rescuers sat opposite her, and perked its head curiously to one side at seeing her stir. Only now day had broken could Blink see its predominantly grey pelt, in contrast to the dark, dramatically-striped brown-and-gold fur of its peers.
The wise old woman? she wondered, dragging her brain slowly up out of the mire; confusion sucked at her memories in the same way the glutinous river mud had sucked on her feet, unwilling to let them go so she could get a good look at what had happened. She fumbled for her translation loop, and jammed the earpiece clumsily into her ear.
“Are you feeling better?” Blink’s visitor wondered, in a voice just like all the other near-identical female voices Blink had heard so far – so even the translator wasn’t smart enough to tell the chirping danata language apart.
The fessine grunted softly with effort, and pushed herself to a wobbly sitting position, wrapping the blanket a little tighter around herself. The idea of looking at her filthy, bruised body turned her stomach. “A little. Thank you.” Her stiff muscles protested at the lie the only way they knew how – by reminding her how much she ached. It felt like she’d never function normally ever again. She adjusted the earpiece a little more comfortably around her ear. “What time is it?”
“Not long since dawn. We are still in the first tenth.”
“What?” Blink wiped her face with a trembling hand. “I barely slept? No wonder I’m still exhausted.”
“You are tired because you are weak,” the danata corrected. “You slept all day, and all night, and did not even wake when we tended your wounds.”
Blink frowned, tiredly. “...really?”
“You have been here a full day.” The danata looked back at her, antennae perked forwards and waving thoughtfully. “You are tired because you are still hungry, and sick. We dressed your injuries with antiseptic, but it will take your body some time to heal them.” She offered a subtle expression that looked vaguely like a smile. “Mother says I may take you to clean yourself, when you feel well enough to move. Maybe that will make you feel better?”
Blink made a little noise of reluctant agreement. “...maybe.” She flexed her sore hands, wincing. Rinds of inflamed red skin peeked from beneath the dull white of the bandages, but at least they didn’t look quite so swollen, the flesh quite so boggy. Her stiff fingers would at least bend (reluctantly) like they were supposed to again.
She shuffled towards the open door on her bottom, wanting to reorient herself, and squinted out into the sunshine. She didn’t remember sunlight feeling quite so hostile before, as though she were looking into an arc welder rather than the watery golden light of morning. “What’s your name?”
“Duskwing. People may also tell you I am a nuisance, but it is not my name.” Her fluffy helper slipped past her and out through the door, to greet an approaching pair of darker individuals. “We imagined you would be hungry, so my sisters have brought you something to eat.”
Blink watched as they bowed to each other, wings flicking, and touched their antennae together in greeting. The newcomers didn’t stay long – only long enough to drop off the trays of food, and head away on some other errand. Watching Duskwing bustle about, sorting through the bowls, Blink noticed their names must be descriptive – the sooty tips to the slightly amber wings had presumably given this danata her name – which made her worry slightly about the implications of the ‘Nuisance’ part...
“It has been a very long time since we entertained one of your kind – certainly before I hatched – and we are not familiar with what you eat,” Duskwing explained, setting the selection of bowls in front of their large guest. “So our store-keeper sent a variety. I hope at least something is palatable.”
Blink used a fingertip to delicately poke through the foods, trying not to maul it too much; all very simple items, like fruit or fish, all cut into precise little pieces – although that was as far as the ‘cookery’ went – and all looking delicious in its simplicity. “It looks wonderful. Thank you...”
The first bowl of cool, juicy fruit wasn’t even very sweet, but it made her mouth cramp painfully in pleasure. Her stomach groaned quietly in sympathy, pleading with her to fill it faster – and she was only too happy to oblige its request. It took every ounce of self-control not to eat faster than she could swallow.
The last bowl had a cover, which held back a very peculiar smell that emerged when Blink removed the lid – hard and rather pungent, like strong cheese, making her nostrils itch, and she had to work hard not to insult her generous hosts by turning her nose up at it. “What-... what’s this?” Is it even food?
“It is hékali; cooked, preserved fish,” Duskwing explained, leaning forwards to pick out a cube. She gave it a squeeze, to demonstrate. “Very soft and easily digested. We give it to our children – I imagine my sisters thought it would be good for you, too.”
Blink looked warily at the translucent white cubes of pungent flesh. “I’m not sure. I-... Odati said she thought I was allergic to fish.” Her own words made her uneasy – the night she’d discovered her supposed allergy had been the same night she’d been drugged and abducted. It was quite obvious now that symptoms had just been the drug kicking in. How had Odati got that wrong?
Come on, Bee, she scolded, inwardly. You can’t blame her for not suspecting someone had drugged you.
On the upside, it meant – hopefully! – that the fish was acceptable to eat. Her stomach was still griping, after all, and a little protein may be enough to finally quiet it. Holding her breath to avoid the distracting, chemical smell, she popped the cube of meat in her mouth.
The taste was surprisingly pleasant; delicate, slightly sweet, almost like the taste of sprouted seeds, nothing like the fish that Aron had prepared. She chewed – somewhat perfunctorily, at the behest of her whining stomach – and swallowed-
...then the ammonia hit her, just as she passed the point of no return. A great heavy wave of it, like an unexpected whiff from the latrine, it rushed up the back of her nose and stung her throat, making her choke. Startled into a gasp, she then almost inhaled the macerated cube of fish, and was reduced to a fit of helpless, gagging spluttering.
After several minutes of eye-watering retching, strength of will alone kept the small rancid cube of meat in her stomach. “I-I’m sorry,” she wheezed, accepting the basin of water the anxious danata was holding up for her. “I wasn’t-... wasn’t expecting the smell.”
Duskwing perked her head to one side, watching the fessine gulp down water to try and wash away the aftertaste. “Forgive me. I had not anticipated you would react like that,” she apologised. “We must perceive substances in a different manner to you.”
Blink forced a smile, and coughed feebly to try and clear the aftertaste from where it still lingered at the back of her throat. “I’ll just have to be more careful, next time.”
Her peaceful breakfast didn’t last long. A flock of about fifteen undersized, fuzzy, curious danata flooded in through one of the inner doors, and gathered around her feet, chirping and squeaking and overloading Blink’s translation earpiece as they vied for her attention. Most were greyish-brown in colour, with stubby little winglets on their backs, but the very smallest were pure white all over, wingless and sufficiently rotund that they resembled fluffy little seedheads.
“Hello there,” Blink greeted, amusedly, not caring that they likely didn’t understand her. “Who are you all?”
It rapidly became a scene of organised chaos, with the bigger infants happily climbing over each other to take a turn at greeting the ‘warmblood’ newcomer. The fessine petted them all in turn, letting them touch her hands and familiarise themselves with her ‘smell’; the constantly-moving antennae on their brows fascinated her. They never seemed to sit still!
The two little white puffs of thistledown didn’t seem too interested in saying hello; their minds were firmly fixed on food, and while everyone else was bustling around with greetings, they helped themselves to the bowl of vile-smelling fish. When Blink next looked down, they’d polished off the entire bowlful, and had moved on to optimistically checking the other containers for leftover scraps.
“How can you eat that?” she wondered, out loud.
Not expecting an answer, the voice made her jump; “It is soft, rich in protein, and easily digested.”
Blink glanced up to find an adult watching her; sprinkled all over with white hairs, she wore a purple and blue silk flower woven into the fur of her head and looked significantly older than any of the other smaller danata Blink had yet encountered.
“Hékali is the best food for the lapsi. It does not matter that their mandibles are weak, they chew it with no problems,” the older imago went on, echoing Duskwing’s words from earlier. “I am Wears Blossom. These nymphs are my brood.” She spread her hands to encompass all the little danata, which had finally begun to calm down and settle in little groups on the floor. “I look after them and teach them. Matica says you are to help me?”
“Well, I knew I was going to be helping someone.” Blink pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself up a little. “Until now, I hadn’t really been awake enough to know how or who. What do you want me to do?”
Wears Blossom bowed her head and flicked her wings. “Tend to your ablutions first,” she advised. “We will discuss tasks once you are clean and more comfortable.”
Duskwing moved in and claimed Blink’s hand in two of her own, tugging gently to coax the laima into motion. “Come, friend. The spring from which we obtain our water is higher on the hillside.”
Blink allowed herself to be led, crawling out through the low door on all fours. More walking? she wondered, her heart sinking. “Don’t you have a washroom somewhere?”
Duskwing watched the fessine wobble first to her knees, then to her feet, wearing the blanket wrapped around her as a sort of dress. “You have a whole room, just for washing?”
That’d be a ‘no’, then. “How-... how about some clothes?” Given her current track record for success, Blink couldn’t find the strength to feel particularly optimistic, walking slowly behind her small host, up the grassy slope alongside a small, chattering brook.
“My sisters have gone to fetch you some from the city,” Duskwing confirmed. “Although they were not sure how big you are. They should be back by sun-high.”
Well, even just a little bit of good news was still good news, and the idea of finally getting some coverings did give her mood a little boost. Blink couldn’t quite work out precisely where her aversion to looking at her body had come from – perhaps it was just a natural consequence of all the repeated demonstrations of her vulnerability? Or just the knowledge that all the parts of her body that polite society dictated that she covered up were very much on show, for all and anyone to look at. She unconsciously tugged the blanket a tiny bit tighter.
“...thank you for rescuing me,” she said, quietly, at last remembering her manners. “You didn’t have to, and you put yourself in danger, so I really appreciate it. Without you, I-... I might not have lasted much longer.”
Duskwing looked back up at her, antennae waving. “You asked for our help, and were being maltreated. It would have been unforgivable to allow such abuse to continue,” she reasoned, amiably. “I am glad that you are already beginning to look better.”
Blink was learning to interpret the danata’s expression as one of either aggression or amiable alertness, depending on context – the small female seemed to enjoy talking, and wasn’t making any angry noises, so Blink took it to be a good-humoured expression. “That’s as maybe, but I owe you such a debt. If there’s ever anything I can do for you...”
Duskwing flicked her wings and offered a very clear smile. “If you would teach me about your species, I would consider it adequate payment,” she suggested.
“Oh. Uh-... I’m not sure I’ll be much help. I-... I’m not a very normal laima.” Goodness, if that wasn’t contender for understatement of the year...! Blink stumbled across the words, trying not to sound like she was just making excuses to get out of it. “I’ll tell you what I can, if-… if I can.”
Duskwing seemed satisfied, though. “Wears Blossom remembers the days before the disease killed the other warmbloods,” she explained, perking her antennae. “She used to teach me about them, until my sisters said it was encouraging me to waste my time with unhelpful flights of fancy.” The danata made a funny little noise that sounded for all the world like a snort of irritation.
So... her helper was not an old woman, but an adolescent? That would explain the similarity between her mostly-grey pelt and the little grey fuzzballs back at the their scrambling colony. “Is that how you both understand my language?”
“Partly.” Duskwing hopped up onto a low ridge of rocks, from behind which the murmur of splashing water could just be heard. “I thought it would serve our colony well to re-open trade with your people, but Travels Far considers them too dangerous.” She perked her head to the side, and clicked quietly. “After finding the condition in which they held you, a fellow warmblood, I see now that she was right.”
Blink pursed her lips in a regretful smile that was not echoed in her eyes. “Not everyone is bad,” she reassured, unable to shake the feeling that she was lying through her teeth. “You just... remember the bad ones better.”
“That is true.” Duskwing smiled. “You do not seem a bad person.”
Resisting the urge to correct her, Blink instead peered over the rocks to find a secluded pool, obviously artificial; pieces of the plastic liner peeked through the layer of sand that smoothed over the floor. The spring gurgled into the pool out of a seam in the rocks a little higher up – she couldn’t help wondering if it too was actually artificial – and flowed back out over a little rill at the southernmost point, forming the river they had followed up the hill. A small, heavily-weathered wooden box at ground level held grooming implements – mostly a variety of combs and brushes, but hidden away in the bottom was a coarse lump of hard white soap. It lacked the sweet, floral scent of her bottle back at the Library, and even the skin-friendly smooth texture, but she had no doubt it would work well enough.
“I will stand watch for my sisters. They should bring your clothes here.” Duskwing bowed politely, and fluttered up to a higher vantage point in a tree, leaving Blink to her bath.
Blink watched her go, feeling an undeniable twinge of jealousy that the little creature flew so easily.
Don’t, Blink. She squashed the emotion with difficulty. Not over something so... so ridiculous. She can’t help that she can fly! Her family offered you food and shelter, and asked for little in exchange. Don’t let that hideous jealous monster inside of you poison yet another friendship; it’s not her fault she reminds you of what you threw away.
Danata appeared not to wear clothes of any sort at all, so why Duskwing would care that she was naked, Blink had no idea, but it still took an unusual effort to cast off the blanket and her shredded underwear, and step down into the water of the spring. She hissed softly through her teeth as the cold water enveloped her small feet, the painfully chilly water making her skin contract and her muscles cramp. Fortunately, the sting was fleeting, her body acclimatising quickly, and the cool spring water soothed her still-sore muscles.
Coarse and hard though it might be, the lump of pale soap at least managed to generate an appealing lather, which readily loosened the dirt from her skin. It felt indescribably good to have the awkward tightness of caked-on filth on her skin finally gone.
Blink carefully peeled back the soggy bandages on her wrists, working delicately to avoid damaging the skin further. Each layer she removed revealed a little more of the raw, inflamed tissue and new paper-thin skin, but she was reassured to find her damaged flesh didn’t look as bad as she’d feared. Whether it had been Tevak’s antibiotics, danata antiseptics, some innate laima resistance to bacteria, or a combination of all three, Blink wasn’t sure, but the fledgling infection had been stopped in its tracks. Gingerly, she washed the residue of antiseptic cream away from her skin, and found it didn’t even hurt quite so badly as she’d expected.
Wonderful though it was to be clean, it made her injuries all the more visible. Blink bit her lip, struggling to control the upwelling of emotion. Look at you, girl. You’re a mess. She used the pad of her thumb to trace the stern white line that marched up the back of her arm, until it vanished into the purple inkblot of a bruise. The tracery of fine scars dividing her skin into a geometric patchwork echoed the scratches and welds she’d picked up in her old life, but the bruises swarming like a noxious oilslick under her skin swallowed them up.
It seemed almost poetic, in a macabre sort of way – as if to say that all the scars of her old life, all of the triumphs and tragedies emblazoned on her skin for the world to see? All would be covered up and forgotten by the new life, if she let it.
And all that so-called prettiness he was so concerned with having for himself counted for nothing, did it? It didn’t stop him abusing you, hurting you. With effort, Blink tore her attention away from her damaged wrists and concentrated on her soap, working slowly down over her chest. Her ribs still ached, her breasts still sore and bruised where she’d fallen on them.
You have to make a decision, her subconscious chimed in, quietly. You can keep running all you like, but he’s not going to stop chasing you. If you can’t put yourself right out of reach, the only way he’ll stop is if you kill him. She snorted a hopeless laugh. Which would involve going near him again, and somehow being stronger than he is. Not to mention, you’re not exactly the murdering sort.
You can’t sit up here forever, being maudlin, either. While you hide away and chew yourself up over who might have been responsible, the real culprit gets away unchallenged. Sitting brooding, tormenting yourself with imagined infractions, is what turned you into that horrible resentful creature that poisoned your love for your best friend.
“But what do I do now?” she challenged, out loud, but her pessimism predictably remained silent.
By the time she’d finally satisfied herself that every last tiny trace of dirt was gone, and emerged to dry off, Duskwing’s older sisters had arrived. The search party had gathered quite a selection of clothes in various sizes, some slightly too big and baggy, some slightly too small, but at last Blink found enough to cover herself to her satisfaction. She glanced back down at her hand, and the criss-crossing scars on the back of her arm, and resisted the urge to tug her cuffs all the way down to her fingertips.
Whatever this new life throws at you, it’ll never erase your memories, Blink reassured herself, squeezing her long fingers into a determined fist. Because when the bruises heal, the marks beneath will shine through again. A fleeting problem will never erase a lifetime of memories, emblazoned forever on your skin. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?
“And you survived everything else the universe has thrown at you,” she added, under her breath. “So you’ll survive this, too.”
...if only her thoughts didn’t keep straying to the idea she may some day have to face Tevak again, and that the meeting may have to result in one of their deaths.
A shrill shriek of alarm rudely barged an exhausted Halli out of her sleep.
That sounded like Aspazija! The zaar tottered out of her bedroom and collided bodily with Sadie. “Did you hear that?”
The hind barely acknowledged the question, bolting for the entrance.
Sadie skidded to a halt before she’d even hit the bottom of the stairs, her little hooves scooting out from under her and dumping her painfully on her backside. Halli almost tripped clean over her, and a split-second later Aron crashed into her from behind. The potential accident went barely-noticed, compared to the scene in front of them.
In the middle of the foyer, Aspazija stood in an awkward semi-crouch, whimpering and trying to support herself on bent legs, instead of letting her weight dangle precariously from the fingers laced into her hair.
Tevak smiled, showing his teeth. “Good morning, you revolting bunch of weaklings. We need to have a little talk...”