Caine Black Knife

“You understand them? You speak their language?”

“No, nothing like that-it’s magick, kind of a limited telepathy-just something I’d do when they’d be close enough to hear-to, to take my mind off-”

“Yeah.”

“They said you’d gotten off the scaffold, but-they said you were dead. You had to be. Some of the bucks were saying a skinwalker’s stalking the camp-it can walk through walls, turn invisible, read minds, and it can look like anyone it kills-it takes their skins and wears them, and it becomes them on the outside, but inside it’s a monster. .”

“A skinwalker.” Huh. I like it. Must be why they stopped stalking me-a little superstitious terror goes a long way. And there I was, skinning the bastards only because it makes the bodies look like hell on a stick.

Just lucky, I guess.

“Yeah.” I flex my hands. I like the way they feel. “Yeah, that was me.”

“But you-you have been home, though? You’re going to take us home-you said. . you said you’d take us. .”

“I said what I had to say to get you out of that fucking pit.”

Air squeezes from her chest. “You. .”

“I need you alive and fighting, Tizarre. I’ve got shit here that can clean out your infections and give you back some strength. I’ve got food and weapons and some armor and some magick stuff that I’m not even sure what it is. But none of it would’ve done you any good down there. None of it’ll do you any good up here if you’re not game to use it.”

“I. .” She wraps her arms over her tiny breasts and can’t look at me. “Down. . down in that hole. .”

“Yeah.” I squat next to her and lay the tunic over her chest. “I’m not gonna pretend to know what it was like for you down there. But I went through some shit these last few days myself, y’know?”

Her fingers are working well enough to grasp the tunic and draw it around her like a blanket. “Yes. Yes, I know. But you-you were always strong. .”

“Nah. Just dirt mean.”

Now she can look at me again. Now I can see the tears.

“This is what I figure,” I tell her. “I’ve been through some shit before this, too. Nothing this bad. Nothing as bad as what they did to you. Nothing as bad as what they’re doing to Marade right now.”

“Marade. .” she echoes, hollow and distant and sad. “What are they doing to her?”

“It’s. . bad. Worse than what they did to me. Worse than what they did to you.”

“Oh. . oh, gods.” Fresh tears now. “Oh, gods, I can’t stand it. .”

“She can.”

Mouse-brown brows draw together.

“That’s the thing about Khryllians. That’s the gift of Khryl. It’s a rough fucking gift, but it’s there. She can survive anything except giving up.”

“She won’t. She’ll never give up-”

“She will when she finds out you’re dead.”

“Oh. .” Her eyes widen again, and her mouth goes slack. “But, but I’m-”

“That’s why you have to pull your shit together. Now. When this storm stops and they look into that slop pit and all they see above the surface is that pair of dead arms I hung in that rope-”

Her shaking’s getting worse.

“I can’t do it for you, Tizarre. It’s your power. You’re the thaumaturge. You can do Cloak. You can walk right into the middle of that fucking camp.”

“You-you want me to-go back in there-?”

“You have to.”

“I-can’t. Caine, I can’t-”

“You can. That’s the thing. That’s what I’m trying to get through to you. You’re stronger than you think you are. I’ve seen other people go through shit. Some of it worse than this. I know something about how people survive. How people live with it. It’s not complicated. It’s just hard, that’s all.”

“Hard.” She laughs now, and there’s a bright brittle edge to it. “Hard?”

“Yeah. You just keep fighting. No matter what. You just have to not quit.”

“Caine-”

“It’s the same for regular people as it is for Khryllians. We can survive anything except giving up. Sure, for them it works for their bodies too-but screw that anyway. As long as you don’t quit, all these fuckers can do is kill you.”

Maim you, blind you, cripple you, leave you brain-damaged and drooling, whatever. . but a good lie trumps a bad truth every time. I put a hand on her arm. “Dying’s not the worst that can happen.”

That’s true enough, anyway.

“You don’t understand.” Her shivering’s getting worse, despite the tunic. Guess it doesn’t have anything to do with cold. “I did quit. I gave up. I was screaming. . begging. .”

“Yeah, me too.”

Once again, white appears around the rims of her irises.

I shrug at her. “They broke me like a rotten fucking stick. So what? They break everybody. It’s what they do.”

“But-but-”

“But that was then.” I stand up. “Fuck then. Then is over. Fight now.”

“I–I don’t know if I-”

“They have Marade chained facedown over a pile of rocks. Naked. In the middle of the camp. So the whole clan can watch while the bucks take turns on her.”

“Caine-Caine, don’t-”

“You know why she’s still alive? It’s not just because she’s Khryllian, Tizarre. Yeah, her god Heals her, because she fights. Every time. She fights every time. But you know why she fights every time?”

I shift my squat in front of her and take her arms, so she can’t look away from me. “It’s because I’m not on that cross anymore.”

“Caine-”

“It’s because you might still need her.”

“I-”

“Are you gonna leave her there?” I give her a shake. “Are you?”

“How can you-how can you put this on me?”

“Because it is on you. It’s on both of us. Because there’s nobody else.”

I show her some teeth.

“Because I have a plan.”

››scanning fwd››

The rush of rain becomes a sizzle. Then a hush. Fading thunder rolls away to the east.

Time to go.

I lean into the rope harness hard enough to scrape bloody hemp-burns up my chest and over my shoulders. The sledge lurches into motion, and I drag it out toward the night.

My night.

It’s a good night to die, fuckers.

The Black Knife camp spreads rain-smoking watch fires across the badlands, three hundred feet below.

Out along the parapet. .

There’s still enough hush in the misting drizzle to cover the grind of the sledge through sand and over wet stone, and I am taking no chances because night and hard stone can play tricks with sound. The weight of the sledge counterbalances me only a couple hand spans off the rock. One of the skids catches on a corner of crumbled