Heir of Beasts

Ch. 5.8- Obliterated

I don't know how long we wait. I estimate hours, but it could be less, or more, because strange things happen to time once the inky blackness of night takes over your senses. Everything becomes slower and thicker, even the air around you, so it clings to the inside of your lungs once you suck it in like it doesn't want to be exhaled.

Night coats us in a false sense of security. We're bundled in blankets, and in darkness. We're invisible, aren't we? I start to entertain thoughts of staying here forever, with her pressed against my chest, feeling her heartbeat because my hand is pressed against the artery in her neck. Its gentle pulsing reassures me. It's like music, low and soft.

I pull her tighter against me, trying to memorize the weight of her, the way she fits in my arms. She's still so small, I realize, a creature made of lean muscle and bones thin as a birds'. And I want to send her out into the world alone? For a moment terror seizes me, terror at the conviction that she's too fragile to survive our there. In the desert. In Rizsava. Abroad.

What if she gets lost on the way back to the city? Will they find her body weeks later, or months, bones scattered around the sands by desert birds? What if she makes it to the city and ends up alone in some tenement district, with cruel-eyed men and pickpockets and not enough food to keep the scant flesh on her bones? Goddess, what if someone sees the gold beads? They'd kill her and take them in an instant. What if she finds passage on a ship but there's a storm and it sinks to the bottom of the Alyezsani ocean? What if-
What If I let her stay? That's all I need to ask myself. Will it be any better if she stays?

No, I think instinctively. The only life the palace can offer her is dependent on the whims of Sholu Verlaina, a proven madman. What happens when his favor runs out? When he stops protecting her for my sake? What would the Yukkaiti, the guards, do to her just to hurt me? I shiver at the thought, unconsciously pulling her closer still. No. She cannot stay, no matter how much I wish she could.

Yet I cannot stand the thought of losing her. It tears a great gaping hole in my center. It breaks my heart, the heart that's been broken so many times I wonder it still has the capacity to break. But it does. It cracks and groans and splits apart as I clutch Halima in my arms, thinking she might be the only one left in the world who knows who I really am. She might be the last person to love me. How can I possibly let her go?

I press my face to the back of her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair, her skin. She smells like dust and sweat and river water. Organic, like something grown from the soil. I let my fingers trace the topography of her face, memorizing its peaks and valleys so well I could sculpt it. I want to remember her, everything about her. I want to be able to pull the memories tight around me when I'm cold and alone again, when everything else is dark, to remind myself that once I was loved.

But time is wearing thin. I can feel it snagging on the edges of my skin and tearing, telling me it's time, that the drugs have taken effect and she needs to go. She needs to walk far and fast before anyone notices what we have done to the guards.

"Halima," I whisper, so quiet because Kaza is sleeping just a few feet away. "Halima, get up."

We both do, extricating ourselves from the blankets as quietly as possible. The tent is pitch black around us, so disentangling ourselves and finding the opening flap takes time. Once we're outside the moon and the stars add to the light somewhat, but we still can't see more than a few feet in front of our faces. It's a good thing the sand muffles our footsteps, because we stumble.

"I have to get my bag," Halima whispers, gesturing over to a servant's tent where she's hidden a small satchel filled with enough food and water to last her the half day's walk back to Rizsava. She disappears into the night for a moment, then reappears carrying the leather bag across her body. She's also traded her sleeping clothes for a travelling tunic and jacket.