The dream slipped from Avena.
She woke up on something far harder, the stench of sour dirt in her nose. She blinked. Eyes focused. She lay in a dark alley on her side behind a stack of crates. She groaned, pressing herself up. Detritus from the alley’s cobblestones smudged her cheek. Some spilled off as she sat up. Confusion swirled through her.
“Dark?” she muttered. It had been early afternoon when she’d left Parliament. She could remember the strange dizziness that had beset her. She stared down at her fingers, flexing and closing them.
They felt real. Solid. Her hands.
She leaned her head back against the stone wall, drawing in breaths. A cold terror nestled in her belly. She had passed out in the middle of Kash. She gasped, feeling for her satchel that held her binder and her earthen gauntlet.
Missing.
She suddenly felt dirty. She bolted to her feet, violated by being robbed while she lay helpless. Her skin crawled. Whoever had burgled her could have done much, much worse to her. She patted herself, probing for pain, new bruises, finding none. Acids churning in her stomach, she darted out of the alley and almost crashed into a man in a waistcoat and felt hat.
“You okay, madam?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she lied, wanting to get away from here. Back to the safety of Dualayn’s house. He had walls.
Ōbhin.
“Do you want me to fetch the guard? You look . . .” The man’s delicate tone trailed off.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just fell, that’s all.”
“If you say so. Perhaps, I can escort you home?”
She shook her head and pushed from him. She rushed forward with the flowing traffic down the street, feeling so naked. She’d lost her weapon. Her glove to strengthen her. Night was falling. She’d have to walk through the Roida Slums in the dark. Defenseless.
I passed out in an alley. Anyone could have violated me. I’m lucky to have only lost my satchel. Fear slithered through her. What’s wrong with me? Am I not healed? Dualayn said there could be issues. Is this it?
She chewed on her lower lip as she walked at a brisk pace, skirts swirling about her legs.
It’s a warm day. Maybe it was just the heat. Her throat felt sore, in need of refreshment. I didn’t drink enough. I pushed myself too hard. That’s it. Just passed out from heatstroke. I’m fine. I made a full recovery.
She neared Patience Gate. Even as the sun set, traffic still streamed both ways. Those who worked outside the wall returned home, and those who worked inside left to do the same. A deep purple stretched across the sky. Compassion shone above her, the orange moon half-full. Behind her, Forgiveness would be rising near-full.
She had to hurry.
She paused at the gates. They were large, open maws leading out into danger. She hugged herself. What if I pass out again?
Avena pushed that thought down. She could still defend herself even without a weapon. Ōbhin had trained her. She just had to march out there and not be afraid. She’d never let fear hold her back. No way she would start now.
Despite her confidence, she couldn’t move. Her body had betrayed her, made her helpless once more. Flashes of all the horrid things that could have happened to her in the alley assaulted her mind. A sickly ooze bubbled through her veins. It spread throughout her body, congealing her blood and weighing down every bit of her.
She wanted to vomit. To scrub herself clean.
You’ve walked this way a hundred times! she told herself. You’re losing daylight. You have no money. What are you going to do? Stand here? Do you think this will be any safer after dark? Stop being useless!
People passed her, leaving the city without any concern. Her bodice constricted tight about her chest. Breathing grew more difficult. Spots danced on the edges of her vision. She felt on the verge of fainting as she struggled to control herself.
You didn’t need weapons before to walk from Kash to Dualayn’s household. Why now? Just take a step forward.
She glanced down at her dark-red skirts. The layers of petticoats she wore beneath gave her dress a bell-like shape. They fell to her ankles, a hint of the lacy underskirt peeking out. She lifted the fabric just enough to stare at her heeled shoes made of stiff, fuzzy suede. She just had to move one of them.
She hated this so much. Why did her body have to betray her and make her helpless?
With a grunt, she took a step.
She could do this. She had to.
Ōbhin will never let me rush into danger with him if I panic over this!
Another step.
She strained to do it. The yellow-painted gates leaned closer. This fearful rush built and built in her. Frustration washed through her. She hated this weakness. It wasn’t who she was. She’d leaped before bandits with only a dagger to defend her patient. She’d stepped up to face an angry mob to support her friends. Ōbhin!
She’d fought an entire gang of ruffians.
I had my binder then. My earthen gauntlet. Now I’m alone. I could pass out at any time.
Bitter gall burned her throat. She threw back her head, about to screech her frustration, when a loud voice called, “Avena!”
She lowered her head to spot Bran rushing forward. The youth had a huge grin on his face as he pushed between two laborers who cursed at him. He didn’t care. He stopped before her, his smile almost swallowing his face.
“We were so worried!” he said, pink touching his cheeks. “We practically ran hoping to find where you’d gone.”
