Black Halo

priestess back to the earth. ‘I mean … I’ve watched you. When we fight.’ Her grip tightened. ‘You’re scared.’

Asper opened her mouth to retort, but found precious little to say by way of refuting the accusation, and even less to say to pull her hand back.

‘I suppose,’ she said, pressing her back up against the shict’s again. ‘It can be a frightening thing, combat.’

‘But you don’t run,’ Kataria continued. ‘You don’t back away.’

‘Neither do you,’ Asper replied.

‘Well, obviously. But it’s different with me. I know how to fight. If I can kill it, and I usually can, I do kill it. If I can’t kill it, and sometimes I can’t, I run away until I can kill it and then I come back, shoot it in the face, tear off its face and then wear its face as a hat … if I can.’

‘Uh …’

‘But you,’ Kataria said, her body trembling. ‘You look so terrified, so uncertain … and really, sometimes, I’m uncertain when the fight breaks out. I don’t know if you’ll make it out of this one or that one and I expect you to run. I would, were I you.’

‘But,’ Asper said softly, ‘you’re not.’

‘No, I’m not. I don’t stick around if it’s not certain.’ The shict leaned back, sighing. ‘It was all certain when I left the forest to follow Lenk, you know? I knew I couldn’t stay there because I didn’t know what was going to happen. But everyone knows what a monkey will do. Even one with silver fur just fights, screams, hoards gold and tries to convince himself he’s not a monkey.’

‘Fighting, screaming and hoarding gold is all we’ve done since we left on the Riptide,’ Asper said. ‘Come to think of it, it’s all we’ve done since I met you.’

‘So why doesn’t it make sense anymore,’ Kataria all but moaned as she slumped against the priestess’ back. ‘This was all so much fun when we started. But now we’re just sitting around in furs, talking instead of killing people.’

‘And … that’s bad?’ Asper asked. ‘I’m sorry, I really can’t tell with you.’

‘That’s bad,’ Kataria confirmed. ‘I should be running.’

‘But you’re not.’

‘And why am I not? Why don’t you run when you feel like it?’ The shict scratched herself contemplatively. ‘Duty?’

She swallowed the question, and Asper wondered if Kataria could feel her own tension as it plummeted down to rest like an iron weight in her belly. Why did she stay? she wondered. Certainly not to protect her friends. I need it more than they do. To survive, then? Maybe, but why get involved at all with them, then? Duty?

That must be it.

Yeah, she told herself, that’s it. Duty to the Healer. That’s why you fight … that’s why you kill. It’s certainly not because you’ve got an arm that kills people that you can’t possibly run away from. No, it’s duty. Tell her that. Tell her it’s duty and she’ll say ‘oh’ and leave and then there will be two people who hate themselves and don’t have answers and you won’t be alone anymore.

‘Is it your god?’ Kataria asked, snapping the priestess from her reverie. ‘Does he command you to stay and fight?’

‘Not exactly,’ Asper replied hesitantly, the question settling uneasily on her ears. ‘He asks that we heal the wounded and comfort the despairing. I suppose being on the battlefield lends itself well to that practice, no?’

Is that it, then? Are you meant to be here to help people? That’s why you joined with them, isn’t it? But then … why do you have the arm?

‘You have your own god, don’t you?’ Asper asked, if only to keep out of her own head. ‘A goddess, anyway.’

‘Riffid, yeah,’ Kataria replied. ‘But Riffid doesn’t ask, Riffid doesn’t command, Riffid doesn’t give. She made the shicts and gave us instinct and that’s it. We live or die by those instincts.’

And what of a god who gives you a curse? Asper asked herself. Does he love or hate you, then?

‘So we don’t have signs or omens or whatever. And I’ve never looked for them before,’ Kataria continued with a sigh. ‘I’ve never needed to. Instinct has told me whether I could or I couldn’t. I’ve never had to look for a different answer.’

Is there a different answer? What else could there be, though? How many ways can you interpret a curse such as this? How many ways can you ask a god to explain why he made you able to kill, to remove people completely, to your satisfaction?

‘So … how do you do it?’

It took a moment for Asper to realise she had just been asked a question. ‘Do what?’

‘Know,’ Kataria replied. ‘How do you know what’s supposed to happen if nothing tells you?’

How would a woman of faith know if her god doesn’t tell her?

‘I suppose,’ Asper whispered softly, ‘you just keep asking until someone answers.’

‘That’s what I’m trying to do,’ Kataria said, pressing against Asper’s back as she pressed her question. ‘But you’re not answering. What do I do?’

‘About your instincts?’

‘About Lenk, stupid!’

‘Oh,’ Asper said, blanching. ‘Ew.’

‘Ew?’

‘Well … yeah,’ Asper replied. ‘What about him? Do you like him or some-’

The question was suddenly bludgeoned from her mouth into a senseless cry of pain as something heavy cracked against her head. She cast a scowl over her shoulder to see Kataria resting the gohmn leg gently in her lap, not offering so much as a shrug in excuse.

‘Did … did you just hit me with a roach leg?’ the priestess demanded, rubbing her head.

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘Why did you just hit me with a roach leg?’

‘You were about to ask something dangerous,’ Kataria replied casually. ‘Shicts share an instinctual rapport with one another. We instantly know what’s acceptable and unacceptable to speak about.’

‘I’m human!’

‘Hence the leg.’

‘So you’ve graduated from insults to physical assault and you expect me to sit here and listen to whatever lunacy you spew out? What happens next, then? Don’t tell me.’ She started to rise again. ‘How many times have you been hit in the head today?’

Kataria’s grip was weak, her voice soft when she took Asper by the wrist and spoke. Asper could feel the tension in her body slacken, as though something inside her had clenched to the point of snapping. It was this that made the priestess hesitate.

‘I’m asking you to listen,’ the shict whispered, ‘so that I don’t find out what happens next.’

Uncertain as to whether that was a threat or not, Asper settled back into her seat and tried to ignore the feeling of the shict’s tension.

‘The thing is, we’re not even supposed to talk to humans,’ Kataria explained. ‘We only learn your language so we can know what you’re plotting next. Originally, I thought that being amongst your kind would be a good way to find that out.’ She sighed. ‘Of course, within a week, it became clear that no one really had anything all that interesting going on in their head.’

Asper nodded; an insult to her entire race was slightly more tolerable than an insult to her person, at least.

‘I should have run, then,’ Kataria said. ‘I should be running now … Why am I not?’

‘Is it’ — Asper winced, bracing for another blow — ‘just Lenk that’s keeping you here?’

‘I protected him today,’ the shict said, a weak chuckle clawing its way out of her mouth. ‘He was going into one of his fits, so I stepped forward and did the talking. I protected a human.’

‘You’ve done that before, haven’t you?’

‘I’ve killed something that might have killed a human before, but I never did … whatever it was I did,’ Kataria