Lorenzo reached up to touch the triquetra medallion beneath his shirt. “Perhaps.”
She saw his hand on his chest. “Does it trouble your faith to kill these people? They’re not your people. And they’re not even decent people.”
“It troubles my faith to kill any people. And they are decent people. They’re just going through a difficult time,” Lorenzo said. Do I even believe that? I’ve been hungry, cold, and frightened. I lived on the streets of Tartessos, in the winter, surviving on the charity of others for half a year and never robbed anyone. I crawled through ten miles of vermin-infested jungle with a bullet in my leg and never robbed anyone. “The last time I came here, ten years ago, it was to sing in a choir in Port Chellah. It was different then.”
“You were a boy then. You saw it differently. I doubt the country itself has changed at all.”
He nodded. “You’re probably right. More’s the pity.”
As they continued down the highway, Lorenzo caught sight of a few plowed fields high in the hills to his left, and a few delicate tendrils of smoke from some farmer’s house. Far from the madness of politics. The hidalgo dropped his hand from his medallion. How did life ever become so complicated?
If only I hadn’t met her. He stole a glimpse of Qhora and couldn’t help but smile at the young lady’s profile glowing in the morning sunlight. No, I can’t imagine that.
If only I hadn’t brought her back with me. No, her cousin would have sacrificed her.
If only she would convert, then I could marry her. But that would keep me at court. I would have to keep fighting, and teaching others to fight, and finding myself in these places, forced to kill or be killed.
If only Ariel had never come to me, had never shown me the true path, had never shown me the brokenness of my old life. I could have gone on living with Qhora, loving her, enjoying her, blissful in our sin.
If only.
His eyes darted over to the young woman beside him, her beautiful face so proud and defiant, her glorious feathered cloak shining in the early morning light.
How can I choose between her and Ariel? Between the real world and a holy life? Between happiness and holiness? Between love and God?
How can anyone? He sighed. I suppose most people don’t have to, do they?
Chapter 9. Taziri
After two hours lying on the bench with her eyes closed praying for sleep, Taziri was still unable to drift off knowing that she had only the doctor and the girl to deal with Hamuy. So she lay very still and over the lip of the far window she watched dawn break over Port Chellah, a dim and muted awakening out beyond the eastern ridge that shifted the darkness of night into a world of slate blues and pale morning mists. The gloomy half-light cast the cabin’s interior in a hundred shades of gray that revealed hints of the people around her. An old Hellan man with an enormous nose. A shackled prisoner with a burned face and a metal plate in his chest. And Ghanima, sitting beside the hatch with the gun belt around her waist, peering out across the airfield at something Taziri could not see.
A steady rhythm of footfalls in the thick grass outside drew her gaze to the window. Kenan jogged up to the gondola, little more than a boy in a long red coat, his face sweaty and breathing labored. Taziri sighed. I’m going to have to sit up now. But she didn’t move yet. Five more minutes, please.
Ghanima stepped into the open hatchway. “What’s your name?” Her fingers rested lightly on the butt of the gun.
“Did the major come back?” he asked breathlessly.
“Name first.” Ghanima’s thumb slipped down to the snap on the holster.
“Corporal Kenan Agyeman.” The young marshal stopped, still breathing heavily. “That’s my gun you’re wearing.”
“I know.” She smiled brightly as she returned his weapon. “Taziri told me to expect you.”
“Where is she?”
“Sleeping. I woke up a few hours ago and she explained what was going on. And she needed the sleep more than I did. She mentioned the major, too. He saved my life.” Ghanima glanced across the empty field. “Is he all right?”
“I don’t know.” Kenan peered over her head at the prisoner as he slipped on his gun belt. “We got separated. There was a fight. Ambassador Chaou killed the police captain and took off on a horse, and the major went after her on our horse. I tried to follow them, but they were gone. I’ve been looking for him all night.”
Taziri grimaced as she lay on the bench. Now what? Am I really supposed to take Hamuy back to Tingis and report to the Marshal General? Or should I wait for the major?
“So what do we do now?” Ghanima stepped back into the shadows of the cabin. “Do you have any idea where to look for him?”
“No.” Kenan sat down on the lip of the open hatch and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. He told Ohana to report back to Tingis if he didn’t make it back. I never thought he wouldn’t make it back. Or that I would if he didn’t.” He squinted over his shoulder at her. “I guess we should go then, but…we can’t just go. The major is here somewhere. We have to find him. And the ambassador.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Taziri groaned as she slowly sat up on the bench. “We’ll find them both.”
Ghanima nodded. “Well, that’s fine, but what about the major’s orders?”
Taziri shrugged. “He’s Section Two. We’re Section Four. Technically, he can’t give us orders anyway.”
“That’s true,” Kenan said. “Technically. Although, I bet the Board of Generals would see it differently.”
Ghanima raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but where does that leave us? We have a dangerous prisoner and only one gun, and we don’t know where to look, and apparently the police are as corrupt as the diplomats.”
“Exactly,” said Kenan. “We can’t trust anyone right now. We need to find the major, fast.”
“Wait. We?” Ghanima pointed at the man on the floor. “What about him? What about the airship? We’re not police. We’re not even armed.”
Taziri sighed. “Life is full of small challenges.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just something Isoke says.” Taziri thought for a moment. There’s no good way to do this, is there? “Well, one of us needs to stay on the Halcyon and the other can go with Kenan to look for the major. I know this ship better than you. Are you up for helping him?”
Ghanima nodded. “Absolutely. Besides, I’ve got the best eyes in the Air Corps. Who better for a search detail? Kenan, do you know this town at all?”
“I should. I was born here,” he said.
“Good. Where did you last see the major?”
Kenan pointed out across the field to the west where the streets flowed downhill to the waterfront. “They rode into town along the coast road. I saw them go into the older warehouses and I searched for hours before I decided to come back here. I was hoping he’d be back already.”
“Okay, then we’ll start looking there.”
“But that’s an entire city district, dozens of blocks with hundreds of buildings. Where do we actually start?”
Ghanima smiled. “The closest teahouse. They’ll have heard or seen something, I’m sure.”
Taziri watched them jog away across the airfield and disappear around a distant corner onto some dawn- kissed side street. Alone, she sat and listened to the two men snore until her belly began to grumble and she gently woke the old doctor.
He sat up and yawned. “Is it over?”
“No. I was hoping you might get us breakfast.”
“Oh.” He frowned and wiped at his eyes. “Fine.”
Evander was gone almost an hour, long enough for Taziri to begin worrying what might have happened to him when the little figure in gray appeared at the airfield gates. She took a small paper bundle from the doctor as he stepped inside. “What did you find?”
Evander sat down in his seat at the back of the cabin. “I don’t know. Some sort of tavern, I suppose. What do
