The Right to Die | ✓ Amby Winner 2023

7. Gloam and Gleam

M'yu leaned against the plush seats, mind abuzz. Aevryn held his right hand close to his chest and input the coordinates to the house with his left. Breathing harsh, the man rested his head on the seatback. The hover thrummed as it moved.

Their winter-wear lay in a bundle in M'yu's lap. Aevryn's cloak was ridiculously soft. Ridiculously expensive. His thumb rubbed back and forth over the fur before he forced himself to reach across and dump it on the seat next to Aevryn. "Are Capitalfolk dinners always like that?"

"Like what?" Aevryn clipped, eyes closed.

"Like that. Like a pack of wild dogs chasing down cats and scraps."

"I tried to warn you."

"But it wasn't me they were after, not really. What do they got against you, anyway?"

He sighed, that long, deep breath you give when you've been out in the cold all day and there isn't any sign of shelter yet. "I stand against everything they stand for." M'yu's brow furrowed, and Aevryn opened one eye to look at him. "And what happened to your Rightspeak?"

"My what?"

"Your Capital accent. The lilt, the vocabulary. You pulled it up well enough for dinner; I expect to hear it on you from now on." The watching eye closed. "The Houses will too."

"We're not in a House."

"You need practice," he muttered, breathing still uneven.

M'yu bit his lip. "We could make a sling for that, you know."

"It will be fine. It just needs rest."

M'yu pressed his lips together, damming up the flow of questions he still had. He didn't like feeling sorry for the Cap. The man was using him one way or another, he knew. They might be in the same House now, but they were not on the same side. Aevryn worked for the government; M'yu worked to bring it down. And if Aevryn ever found out, he'd be after M'yu even more than those wild dogs in Gloam Hall had been after Aevryn.

Still, he didn't see any sense in antagonizing a man in pain.

The hover slowed to a stop. Aevryn sighed, straightened, and hit the command to open the door. "Stay here."

"Wait—you meant it about leaving tonight?"

"Didn't I tell you I don't lie?"

"But what about Lania? The girl, in the cell."

Aevryn winced and looked away.

"I did a good job, Aevryn. You can't tell me I didn't."

"You did." Aevryn nodded, eyes on the snow-covered world outside. "A good job indeed."

"You said—"

"I said that we would discuss it after dinner. I didn't want it fracturing your focus. It was too important to risk... to risk anything."

M'yu studied the side of Aevryn's face, a hardset profile that refused to meet his eyes. M'yu's blood chilled. "She's not in the cells anymore, is she?"

Aevryn's head shook slowly, moonlight frosting over his icy hair and cool skin. "She died before I ever managed to get you released. Head trauma." He paused, eyes flicking to M'yu and then back away. "I truly am sorry." Still cradling his arm, Aevryn rose from the car and walked toward the house.

M'yu gripped the seat, breaths shallow. Then he tore out of the hover, snowy wind whipping at his hair and striking his face. "No, no. Hold on a second."

"I told you to stay in the hover," Aevryn called over his shoulder. Taking the stairs, he nodded at a guard, and the soldier opened the door for him.

M'yu chased after him, but the guard grabbed his shoulders.