Malyn Tol’s hand settled on my elbow, sending shiver up my arm. Without lifting my gaze, I asked jokingly, “Was that supposed to be me?”
The doll didn’t have any facial features, but the eyes were green like mine, and without others to compare the size to, who could tell?
Malyn Tol paused and cocked her head. “I don’t actually know. I just wanted to make one of us; it might as well be you.”
Her words startled me, but as I kept studying the doll… I felt she might have been right.
Chapter 9
Myar Mal looked up from the paper he was holding.
“Laik Var,” he started, leaning back in his chair. “You do know that even if he hadn’t decided to quit, the earlier incident would be enough to get him dismissed?”
“I convinced him to stay,” said the elder man without blinking.
“You convinced him to stay,” repeated the kar-vessár acridly. “Has it occurred to you to convince me to keep him? Or the Directory?”
“He’s a good soldier. He had a lapse of reason, that’s all.”
“That lapse could have cost someone their life.”
Laik Var scoffed. “He’s not the only person in Mespana who eats nuts.”
“He’s the only one to wave them around.”
Laik Var didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the leader with unshakable conviction, lips pressed into a tight line. But Myar Mal didn’t let it shake him; he answered with a gaze just as hard, dropping it only for a moment as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk.
“Look,” he said finally, softer than before. “This boy has nothing to do with us. Don’t drag him into this.”
Laik Var’s lips twitched. “Not everything is about you. Kar-vessár.” He threw in the title after a moment’s hesitation as if belatedly realizing he owed his superior a modicum of respect.
“Isn’t it?” asked Myar Mal with a small, bitter smile. He wished he could believe it. He was never the one to beg for acceptance, but he wouldn’t mind if his efforts were appreciated, just once. But Laik Var didn’t even answer, and for a moment, the two men glared at each other in a silent battle.
Finally, the kar-vessár leaned back and sighed again.
“Very well, then.”
If there was one thing he loathed, it was defeat.
Chapter 10
There was no further announcement. It was maddening. I liked having my life ordered—even if that order meant I could die tomorrow. I think my brain didn’t fully comprehend the idea; death was just an empty word, even when I faced danger every day. But the uncertainty filled me with dread.
Night had fallen with no further development, and with a heavy heart, I went to my place and tried to catch a couple of hours of rest.
But, once again, I was awakened. This time much less gently by Laik Var barging into my tent without warning.
“Put that on,” he commanded, pushing something into my hands.
The artificial light was dim at this hour and sleep still muddled my brain, so it took me a while to realize what it was. A pale-blue sash. A sign of nami vessár, leader’s right hand.
Laik Var was out before I could say anything, so I hurriedly put on my suit and the sash. It was long and I worried it might hang loose, but as soon as I hooked it up, it tightened and clung to my body. I followed my vessár, still trying to blink away the sleepiness. Laik Var already had a nami: an outworlder woman named Arda Nahs, but I haven’t seen her recently; she must have stayed in Sfal. I wanted to ask about her, but Laik Var was ahead of me, so I shrugged it off. He probably needed someone to fill her role here.
Outside was bathed in darkness, the world’s peculiar sun not even visible yet.
“What’s happening?” I asked Laik Var after catching up with him.
“We’re attacking,” he answered in half-whisper.
But the camp was still, and it seemed most of our people were asleep. So, we weren’t going to charge like in old legends. What then? Send a small group inside to eliminate the leaders? Blow the mansion up? Open the gates? I wanted to ask, but two shadows grew before me, barring my way. The white face-masks flashed in the darkness.
“I’m sorry, Aldait Han, but we were told to check your belongings,” said one of the shadows, a man judging from the voice, but too tall to be a real Dahlsi. When he moved, I noticed a yellow armband—medical team.
The memory of my yesterday’s stunt flooded my mind, and my guts twisted in shame.
“Is that necessary?” I asked, grinding my teeth. But I didn’t hope for mercy.
“If you please.”
I unbuckled my belt and handed it to him. It had a couple of pouches, used to carry everything from tools and weapons to medication and food. Usually, there was no problem with it—people around me were well adjusted to living with allergies, and ubiquitous decontamination spells reduced the risk to the minimum. However, given my recent behavior, I didn’t blame them for caution.
Still, I watched wistfully as my stash of nuts and dried meats was thrown into the bag marked for incineration.
“After the battle, submit all potentially dangerous products to the medical team. Kar-vessár’s order.”
I twitched in surprise. Over my dead body, I thought. If all went well, after the battle we were bound to return to Sfal, and there was no way to prohibit possession of potential dangerous products there. The whole world was one big allergen!
“Also, your adrenaline has expired,” noticed the second man, this one Dahlsi-short, going through my set of medications.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like I need it.”
“Someone else might. After the battle, go to the field hospital and collect a fresh sample.”
“All right,” I said, knowing full well I would never do it. I was not allergic to anything,
