Tahki composed himself. He didn’t want to break down in front of Rye. He’d cried long enough.
“I’m fine.” His jaw throbbed, his legs cried with every movement, the cuts on his body pulsated as blood clotted.
“Tahki.” Rye held Tahki’s chin up. “Are you in pain?”
Tahki nodded.
Rye fetched two green pills from a cabinet above his bed and handed them to Tahki. “These might make you a little drowsy and light-headed.” Then he fetched a glass of water. Tahki swallowed the entire glass in three gulps, then let out a long breath. He picked up the bandages and tried to wrap his arm. His fingers felt swollen from gripping the gingoat’s reins.
“Are you going to tell me why it looks like someone tried to make dog food out of my lead architect?” Rye said.
Tahki fumbled with the bandages. They wouldn’t stay in place.
Rye took them gently from his hands and unwound them. “Take off your shirt,” Rye said. He said it so casually, but Tahki felt too tired to blush. He slid his shirt over his head and cringed as it scraped open the cuts on his stomach. He rested his head against Rye’s pillow. It felt firm and smelled like him. Rye took a rag and started to clean the blood from his body. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
Tahki stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know where to start.” He should have been embarrassed, excited, terrified to be in Rye’s bed with his shirt off, but his mind didn’t seem to want to acknowledge the fact. It didn’t seem to want to acknowledge anything. A pleasant haze settled over him, like the fog outside had drifted into the room.
“You weren’t at breakfast this morning,” Rye said as he dabbed a rag against Tahki’s stomach. His hands were rough from working with stone and wood, but also careful, methodical. “Where were you?”
Tahki blinked and took a deep breath. “I was at Gale’s.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to borrow some tea.”
“Did anything happen at Gale’s?”
“No. Yes. Dyraien stopped by. He dropped off order details.”
“Order details?”
“He needed minerals ordered in Edgewater.”
“And?”
“And he asked Gale to order them.” His eyes found Rye’s face. Concern pressed into the crook of Rye’s brow, into the slight downward slant of his mouth. “I went to Edgewater to fill the order for her.” He told Rye about his encounter with Zinc, how he lost the money, how Zinc hurt him.
Rye sat beside him after tucking the supplies back in the cabinet. Tahki looked down at the white, bloodstained bandages around his body. He pressed one finger down on his stomach and watched as a bloom of blood appeared around the indent.
Rye pulled his hand away and held on to it. “Are you sure it was Zinc?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you, but Zinc would never cross Dyraien. He’s a bastard with sick tastes, and I wish Dyraien wouldn’t do business with him, but Zinc’s known him longer than I have. It just doesn’t make sense he’d scam you. It doesn’t make sense Dyraien would send Gale, either. Dyraien insists on ordering the materials himself.”
Tahki watched Rye’s mouth. His lips formed each syllable with such perfection. Everything about Rye was so exact, so measured. If Rye had gone to Edgewater, Zinc wouldn’t have dared cross him.
“Dyraien’s going to kill me,” Tahki whispered.
“We’re not telling Dyraien anything. Not yet.”
Tahki rocked his body back and forth until he managed to pull himself upright. The pain numbed, but he still felt tired. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to pay Zinc a visit.” Rye dropped Tahki’s hand and stood. There was anger in his voice. A kind of restrained rage Tahki had never heard in him before. It sounded like Rye took it personally, as though he had been the one who’d been scammed.
Tahki grabbed Rye’s arm. His skin felt smooth and firm. The muscles beneath tensed. “I’m going with you.”
Rye carefully pushed him away. “You need to rest. Just tell me where the gambling house is.”
Tahki stood, wobbled, steadied himself. “This is my mistake, Rye. I want to fix it.” He couldn’t let him go alone. If anything happened to Rye, he didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself. Not that he’d be much help, but the idea of waiting here for the next six hours for Rye to travel there and back seemed unbearable.
Rye studied him. His eyes moved over his injuries. “You’re bleeding from all ends and you still won’t listen to me.”
Tahki straightened his back, the painkillers giving him false strength. “But this is different. I’m not being stubborn because of pride. I want to go because I want to help make things right. I know I can’t do it on my own, but I can’t let you go alone, either. If anything happened to you, I’d—” Tahki stopped himself. The drugs had loosened his tongue, and he was afraid of what he’d almost confessed. “I’d… I’d feel very bad. Besides, you need me to show you where the gambling house is.”
Irritation settled in Rye’s eyes, but after a moment, he relaxed a little. “Fine, you can come. But promise me you’ll leave at the first sign of trouble.”
TAHKI LEANED his head against Rye’s back as they rode. He felt Rye’s shoulder blades roll in and out as he steered the gingoat. Tahki must have dozed, because they’d only just left when the smell of fish woke him. His damp hair fell against Rye’s back. He watched it swish across the dark leather a moment and then jerked his head up. His hands were wrapped around Rye’s waist. He loosened his grip.
“You awake?” Rye said.
“I think.” His mind still felt a little hazy. “Where are we?”
“We’re almost to Edgewater. You’re sure you can find the gambling house again?”
Tahki craned his head
