3.35 — Thanks for the Arm
Ell screamed like she’d seen a horror movie monster emerge from the sewers or something. She stumbled backward away from me, hiding behind Val, who favored me with a sardonic expression. The long, drawn-out wail of terror quickly faded to short, breathless yelps, then escalated again as she stepped on the commander’s foot and went sprawling.
“Newton on a fucking pogo stick, lady!” I yelled, rubbing my ear with my freshly regrown arm. “Chill the fuck out already!”
“Arm!” she screamed, pointing at me.
“Let’s not cause a scene,” Aulof said gently, kneeling to attend to her.
Ell scrabbled fearfully back from him, her dark Estheni complexion paling as her gaze bounced between the three of us.
“I know what you are,” she whispered, making a gesture to ward off evil. “Facestealers. Returned from the netherworld so you can steal through the Black Gate in the skin of a righteous soul.”
“Oh, come on,” I seethed. “How may times is Kives going to set us up like this?”
Ell scrambled to her feet.
“You can’t take my flesh,” she said. “I’m an Oathkeeper. Javei knows his own. Even—even if you wear my skin, he’ll know it’s not me. You have nothing to gain!”
Val let out an affronted huff. “Even if that were our goal, surely you don’t believe us to be so small-minded that—”
“Laoces,” Aulof snapped.
“Don’t, bother,” Ell said, struggling to get her breathing under control. “That’s not his name. She called him Hama last time.”
Something that looked like a genuine smile flitted over Val’s lips.
“Aw, you do care!” I needled him.
“Lilith!” the commander snapped. “Not the time!”
Val pinged us both for vigilance. I glanced at Ell just in time to see a slight smile fade away. It looked similar to the one that Val had just been sporting. She took a deep breath, gathering herself.
“Fine,” said the commander. “Ell, we’re not going to hurt you. Killing the North Wind has set events in motion, and we can’t afford to let them get away from us. I’m sorry to say that you’re involved with this too, now, which means your safety is our responsibility.”
“You can trust us, Ell,” Val said with a gentleness I’d never heard in his voice before. It sounded horribly wrong.
“I don’t even know your name,” Ell said, but her body language was opening up. The defensive hunch was almost gone.
“Val,” he said with a roguish smile that reminded me of Markus. “Will you let me help you?”
Ell’s lips parted slightly. “You’re not supposed to lie to an Oathkeeper, you know.”
“May Javei strike me down if I do,” Val said without a trace of irony.
Ell gave him a knowing look. She turned to me, her gaze flinching away as soon as she made eye contact and finally settling on the commander. The commander looked at me expectantly. Right, we were pretending like I was in charge here.
“We have to get moving,” I said decisively. “Aulof, with me. Val, stay with her until she gets her inks. Ell, do you have a place to stay?”
“Yes,” she said.
“No you don’t,” I said. “They know you’re staying there. Find somewhere to hunker down. Val can pay for it. Where the hell’s that librarian, anyway?”
“We’ll check,” Val said, nodding.
“Great,” I said. “We’re gone.”
I spun on my heel, striding for the door. With my hand on the handle, I paused, then looked at her over my shoulder.
“Things are gonna get weird from here,” I said. “But that’s alright. We’re good at weird. Val’s saved my life a couple of times. You’re in good hands, okay?”
Val wiggled his fingers, eliciting a giggle from her.
I left without another word, the commander a silent presence behind me. We passed through the library’s airlock chamber, emerging to the scene of my little fight. The dead soldier was still slumped against the wall, sword sticking out of his mouth. Blood dripped down his chin, slowly congealing in the tropical heat.
I slowed to a stop as I passed a wet spot on the cobblestones—all that remained of the man I’d fed to the medical translator. There was far too little remaining to indicate a man had died there.
The commander didn’t ping me, but I could feel his question all the same.
“Ell acted like I was a monster,” I said, staring at the ground.
Aulof glanced at the street where I was looking. I knew he knew. He waited without saying a word.
We were Veleans. He didn’t need to.
“I was outnumbered ten to one,” I said, defending myself against judgments I knew he wasn’t making. “I’d already recycled a body with the medical translator before, and it got such a reaction. I just instinctively knew I could stop them with that.”
“You probably should have retrieved the sword after you threw it,” Aulof said.
“I am trying,” I said, my breath coming faster. “I want to help. I want to save people from the thing that got me. And I can’t get over the fact that all the good intentions in the world won’t stop people from forcing me to kill them.”
“You’re a warrior of the Old Ways,” Aulof said softly. “No one can ever force your hand to strike.”
“No?” I said. “Because you were pretty fucking quick to pull that gun on Val!”
“I did that,” he said. “Not Val.”
I drew in my breath for an angry retort, but he pointed to the stains on the ground.
“Did he fight well?” Aulof asked.
“He never got a chance,” I said, looking away. “I don’t know, maybe it’s fucked up to say it doesn’t count if it was an honorable fight. But he had a fucking sword. He would have tried to kill me. I would have had to kill more of them.”
“You would have chosen to kill more of them,” Aulof corrected me. “The best choice among others, probably, but still a choice. Never lose that part of yourself or eternity will grind you to nothing before you can stop it.”
He spat on the stains on the road.
“May he suffer in the next life,” Aulof said. “He has wounded us enough in this one. Let’s go.”
He walked away. I stared at the remains. Spit-flecked scraps of red meat nestled between the uneven cobblestone. Fatty oils soaking into stone, glistening in the morning sun.
Some part of me felt like spitting too.
I guess I’m kind of a bully, I mused. Sort of. Maybe.
I quashed the impulse down. It didn’t feel right, same as it hadn’t felt right to kill Raven while I had her cornered. There was something reassuring about that feeling, like I was discovering something about the shape of my soul. Maybe that was just part of who I was. I kind of liked the idea of living by a code, like one of those warrior monks in the stories.
I drew myself up and nodded to the remains on the ground.
“Thank you for the arm,” I said respectfully. I felt like I was supposed to add something like “you fought bravely,” or “you fought with conviction,” but I’d only known the guy for about ten seconds—and frankly, he’d died like a dog. Did it actually count as honorable if you went after a girl a foot shorter than you and got murked before you could land a hit?
“You tried,” I concluded, then followed after Aulof.
*
The commander and I didn’t speak as we traveled to Dal Salim’s hiding place. He’d probably heard me eulogize the guy I melted, but it had always been clear that my developmental choices were mine to make—as long as I was making them on purpose. There was probably some unspoken Old Ways tradition about that which I was supposed to pick up over the decades.
It was that same choice that made me step ahead of him as we reached our destination and gesture him to stop.
“I’d like to handle this alone,” I said.
Aulof took in my stance, my facial expression, and smiled. He inclined his head in agreement and let me step through the door, where I found Dal Salim lying on his back with his eyes closed.
“Hey, buddy,” I said, plopping my butt in the dirt nearby. “What do I say here? Peace be upon you?”
Dal Salim smiled without opening his eyes. “That was right. Peace be within you, Lilindi.”
“I…” I said. “I’m sorry, Dal Salim. I’ve been a terrible friend.”
At that, he did open his eyes, sitting up with the stiffness of the recently woken. He lugged himself around to face me. Rubbing his eyes, he watched me expectantly.
“I don’t really know anything about you,” I said. “I could have asked by now. You’ve been really supportive, and I kind of took that for granted.”
He smiled sadly. “If you want to be forgiven, I forgive you, but apologies are wasted on the likes of me.”
“I know,” I said, leaning back on my hands and staring at the ceiling. “I’m sorry for that too. You’ve had that life debt thing going on, and I didn’t want to deal with it, so I just ignored it.” I looked back at him. “That said, you know you could have just said you were done and I’d have let you go, right?”
“No,” he said with perfect equanimity. “That is not something I could have said.”
I snorted a laugh. “No, I guess not.”
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Fuck,” I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise, would I?”
“Even this much of a stride is a mighty stride indeed,” he said, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “How can I help?”
I breathed deeply and steadied myself.
“Deal’s off,” I said.
“What deal?” Dal Salim asked.
“Our bet,” I said. “About whether you can kill the wind or whatever we said. We’re killing Horcutio, Dal Salim. We figured out how gods work and we’re going to kill yours.”
Dal Salim’s eyes widened at that, but otherwise he didn’t react.
“That was why I made the bet,” I said. I felt restless, so I stood up and started to pace. “I saw an opportunity to take a model follower of Horcutio through the whole process. You were going to be the prototype. If even someone like you could be taught that Horcutio’s principles could be broken—you know, in a lasting way—we could use that. Amplify it. The oceans would become another zone of control, a portion of a map that the great powers pass back and forth like gamblers at a bar.”
He didn’t look as shocked as he could have. He’d probably suspected this on some level, maybe even consciously.
“I saw the weapon of fire you used on the Fool’s Errand, before it took that name,” he said. “I saw the blue godfire in the sky, during the battle of Baros. Your people have mighty powers and mightier ambitions, but men can’t kill the wind.”
“We did,” I said, turning to face him directly. “The storm’s gone, Dal Salim. Val fired the shot. We reduced the North Wind down to numbers, and we broke the equation. If you’re talking about the actual wind? It’s just air. Hot air moves differently than cold air, and that leads to shifts in the overall atmosphere.”
“One day, you’ll even learn to command metaphor,” Dal Salim said.
“Did you just—” I said, then laughed. “I’m sure Val’s memorized the equations for that too. Did you know I was really into pirate stories as a kid? I loved all the adventure and the ragtag band of misfits trying to find treasure and glory before the Royal Navy came down on them. But that’s not how it works.”
My voice was getting louder now. “We used to have real pirates, man. All the freedom and adventure shit, I’m not sure about, but the pirates were real. And you know what happened? The big naval countries sent out their task forces with all their marines and all their guns and they wiped them out! That’s the metaphor here. There’s no escape from this. We’ve seen it on world after world. Humans keep progressing, they get more powerful, and the environment stops mattering as much as who’s in charge of fucking managing it. Even if we don’t kill Horcutio here, his time’s running out. A thousand years from now, maybe two thousand, there won’t be anything left for him to do. He won’t matter. And all you’ll be left with is the knowledge that luck is fake, nothing just happens to you, and there’s always a chain of events that you could do something about if you only thought to try!”
Dal Salim looked up serenely as I finished my tirade.
“Just… do something!” I yelled at him. “Bet’s off! No more life debt! I might have bought it, but you’re the one who put it up for sale!”
Dal Salim slowly stood up. He approached me and wrapped his arms around me.
“I did,” he said simply. “I chose exile decades ago, for the good of my clan. You found me with my life’s work already completed.”
“Get off,” I muttered sullenly, escaping the hug. He let me. “I guess that’s something else I could have asked. Is that why you don’t want to live forever?”
“I spoke honestly,” he said. “And you still have a request to make.”
I huffed, then kicked the dirt. “Fine. You know that island with the Crown of Horcutio?”
“I do indeed,” he rasped.
“I need you to give directions,” I said, “to both the Estheni and the Parmedi. If you agree—don’t test me on this, dude, I want you to make an actual fucking decision on this—if you agree, we’ll bring you in tonight. You’ll give your little speech, and then we’ll get you out of this. The kids from Baros should be around here somewhere, you could help them out if you wanted. Or we could get you in with the Dancers. A Dancer circle helped one of our allies disappear recently, so maybe the circle on this island could do the same. But I’m putting my foot down. Whether you do this or not, you’re done after tonight.”
“I’ll do it,” he said immediately.
I eyed him suspiciously. “Think about it for a minute.”
“No,” he said contentedly. “That is my choice, as I would choose to see this business to the end.”
My eyes narrowed. “That’s not on the table. I’m upset with myself for using you this much already.”
“Like a tool,” Dal Salim said. “Will you put me away now that you have no use for me?”
I grimaced. This “living by a code” project wasn’t even an hour old, and it was already running into snags I hadn’t anticipated.
“Fine,” I said. “You wanna come along, ask the commander. He’s outside. I’ll trade you for your appearance tonight. Deal?”
He smiled.
That night, as we prepared to barge in on the Magistrate’s court, I had my familiar shadow at my side again.
For the last time.