“Fingers and Ōbhin.”
Her breath caught at Ōbhin’s name. He approached slowly, wearing his leather jerkin and pants, his hands wrapped in black. He stared at her, his face intense, his eyes flicked up and down her, scanning her. This breathless relief fluttered through her. She didn’t have to be afraid. If she fainted, they—Ōbhin—would protect her.
“Why were you out for so long?” he growled, his face suddenly full of anger.
For a moment, she wanted to march to him and throw his anger back into his face. Then the helpless fear curdled in her. She squirmed, embarrassed to admit what had happened. He stopped before her, scrutinizing her.
“You’re dirty,” he said. “Your dress is stained. Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just tri—”
“Where’s your satchel? Were you . . .?”
Her cheeks burned. He was seeing how weak she was. What if she was weak? What if she had been fooling herself? Had she truly fought all those ruffians by herself? Or had Ōbhin helped her? Her memories of that day were so fragmented.
Dualayn told me there would be . . . differences. What if I never was who I think I am? What if I’m not strong? She shuddered. What if I’m just a burden to Ōbhin? I want to stand with him but . . .
I can’t even walk through Kash without passing out and being robbed.
“I’m fine,” she said. “They didn’t do anything to me. Just . . . It’s okay. Can we go? I want to return home.”
“Of course,” Ōbhin said, his voice growing gentler. His eyes held pity she couldn’t stand.
She’d rather he would be angry with her, defiant. That he thought she was strong enough to withstand it. He’d reined in his temper when she’d revealed her weakness. Tears hovered at the edges. Emotion choked the back of her throat. She feared breaking down and crying right here, crushed by how wrong this day had gone.
All her plans to confront him had evaporated. Even if she had fought all those ruffians by herself, she couldn’t trust her body now not to faint at the wrong time.
Ōbhin offered his arm, the pity remaining in his eyes.
A little bit of fire kindled in her. She marched ahead towards the gate like she hadn’t been too terrified to approach it. The men fell in around her, Fingers on her right, silent but relaxed. She wanted to take his fatherly arm, but she didn’t.
She could be strong enough to walk with three men around her.
*
Pain stung through Ōbhin as he lowered his arm and caught up with her.
This is what you wanted, he reminded himself. To set her free.
He didn’t know how she could have been robbed. The thieves must have come on her fast, overpowered her before she could draw her binder. It could happen to anyone. Of course, she wouldn’t let it affect her. She marched back straight.
She didn’t need him. She was strong enough without him around. She would walk her own path, a bright one. One where he wouldn’t get her killed. That was good enough. Love wasn’t for him. He did foolish things for it.
Terrible things.
The sun descended as they passed through the Roida Slums, returning to the estate in silence.
Chapter Eleven
Sixth Day of Patience, 755 EU
Avena’s consciousness escaped her alien body again. She slumped into dreams.
She stood before a diamond. It was massive, as tall as she was, and shaped in such intricate ways. A bewildering array of facets that reflected broken mirrors of reality. A network of fine, gold wires ran from it, some embedded in the gem itself. A faint hum emanated from it, a light glowing in its heart.
She glanced at the man on her right. The lover from her dream, brown skin and blue eyes. He wore a shirt with shiny buttons, the fabric possessing a silky sheen, the stitching fine. It fit him well. He smiled at her, a gesture of reassurance.
He spoke to her in that musical tongue, his words a light tenor. He stood before a black gem. She had never seen its like. She knew of no black gem but obsidian, only this didn’t look melted and glassy like the few bits of the forbidden stone she’d seen. It had a smoky quality to it and hummed like the diamond but at a different note. He placed his hand on it.
She pressed her hand on the diamond. Smooth. Cool. Waiting.
There were others in the room. On her right glowed a massive ruby. A woman stood before it, blonde like a Roidanese, her skin as pale as Avena’s own. Then a sapphire, the woman standing by it half-obscured. All the gems were here arrayed in a circle, each humming and glowing, each with a person placing a hand on the faceted surface.
Avena glanced at her own hand. It was alien, not her own, but it felt right. Like she belonged in this body. The fingernails were painted a soft pink, their ends long and finely shaped. Her arms were bare to her elbow. She didn’t wear a dress but tight-fitting trousers of some stretchy material that hugged her thighs and rear. Her blouse had pleated ruffles following a V-cut neckline which showed off a generous swath of her bosom.
Pale-white hair spilled down her face.
She glanced around the room. The eight gems and their controllers, for want of a better term, were arrayed in the center of a room with walls and floors and ceilings of a waxy stone made of pure white. It
