This was ridiculous. The worst thing was, I had no idea how to rebuff his charges. And there was no one who’d stand for me, this much I knew, even without considering the alleged murder attempt.
“Where did you ever get that idea?” I asked, resigned.
For the first time, Adyar Lah hesitated. He then looked at the other guy, as if searching for affirmation, before speaking: “You were heard uttering a racial slur.”
Oh, fuck. I pressed my eyes shut, trying to banish the memory, but that only seemed to make it spring to life: the big tent lit by the magical diagram on the floor, the pelting of the falling rocks, Tayrel Kan’s eyes glassy, unseeing as I tried desperately to grab his attention…
But as much I wanted to blame it on my fucking brain picking up the worst possible things—from those bastards on the other side of the wall for sure, since they were the only ones I’d ever heard uttering this word—I had to face the truth that… perhaps I wasn’t different from my compatriots. Perhaps the bigotry my race was known for was still running in my veins, waiting for the opportunity to rear its head.
“I spoke in anger,” I stammered. Shitty excuse, if I ever heard one, but I had nothing better. I knew I wouldn’t be able to put to words everything I thought. “It was an emergency, I wanted… I wanted to get Tayrel Kan’s attention. I could just as well have called him an asshole.”
A sense of betrayal set heavily in my stomach. Not so long ago, we spoke freely, joked, laughed—shit, he wasn’t always kind to me either! But then, as the tides turned, he was the first to rat on me.
“But you didn’t.”
I exhaled. A part of me wished to remain angry but, as much as I loathed to admit it, he was right.
What was wrong with me? Why did I always have to say the worst things? Quarreling with supervisors was bad enough, but threatening them in front of the entire camp? And then running around screaming the only word I absolutely shouldn’t have? It’s not hard, Aldeaith! One fucking word!
I didn’t know if I want to laugh or cry. I joined Mespana to steer clear of this shit, hoping the rigid structure would keep my tongue in check. All in vain. It was not the structure I needed, it was a fucking muzzle.
“Look,” I said, panting heavily. “It was… a lapse of judgment. I’m prone to them.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“You really think I would join Mespana, spend most of my life among Dahlsi, if I thought myself better?”
“Sentiments change. Especially in times like this.”
What could I say to that? I closed my eyes, the defeat bitter in my mouth.
“I guess your friend is busy scanning my mind,” I said. That was my last line of defense. I was innocent—of attempted murder, at least—but that word itself was enough to get me kicked out of Dahls. Peridion family was probably waiting for me on the other side. I only hoped Mespana would let me keep my wand. “How about you ask him if he found anything discriminating?”
Adyar Lah didn’t answer straight away. I raised my eyes to him, but he averted his face, pressing his lips into an embarrassed grimace.
“She’s your friend, actually,” he explained.
“What?”
For the first time since we came into the tent, I looked at the other person. Adyar Lah was right. It was a woman, though with one of those nondescript faces that could belong to anyone, and a body that was all skin and bones, crossed arms hiding whatever feminine attributes she possessed. But also, I knew her. We’d worked together a couple of times in the past and I was pretty sure we were introduced at some point. I just couldn’t, for the life of me, remember her name.
“Dalyn Kia-Havek,” she said, I didn’t know if to put me out of my misery or to humiliate me more.
“Sorry,” I murmured, then turned back to Adyar Lah. “See, that’s what I mean. It’s hard to make friends when you can’t remember fucking names.”
“You seemed to recall those Tarvissi leaders just fine.”
I licked my lips nervously, though my tongue was almost as dry as them. That wasn’t a pleasant recollection, definitely not one I wanted to share, but… Ah, fuck it, Dalyn Kia probably read it in my mind anyway.
“When I was younger, they liked to gang up and beat the shit out of me. I was always alone, easy to pick on. Kinda hard to forget.”
“Even then—” he stopped abruptly and snapped his head up, listening.
At first, I wasn’t sure what for, but it didn’t take me long: from the edge of the camp, came an unmistakable whistle. Adyar Lah frowned.
“Stay here,” he ordered and turned toward the exit.
Before he could take a step, another whistle tore through the air, followed by a pop as the tent wall gave up, then a painful grunt. Adyar Lah sucked in a breath and collapsed, a tail of a bolt sticking out of his chest. The spell binding me loosened and I dropped to the floor. The next bolt flew over my head. I murmured a quick blurring spell, hoping it would at least make it harder to aim at us. Nothing better came to my mind.
Across the tent, Dalyn Kia was also crouching, seemingly unharmed. Vessár laid on the ground. I crawled toward him. The wheezing breath suggested he was alive, and wide opened eyes—that he was conscious, but most likely in shock. Pink foam formed on his lips.
Dalyn Kia joined me as I was reaching for a pack of healing clay. I glanced up.
“You’re gonna stop me?” I asked, bitterness tainting my words.
“Nah, I was trying to tell them it’s bullshit. You don’t have it in you to be a traitor.”
Adyar Lah’s words echoed through my mind, she’s actually your friend. Heat rose to my cheeks.
“Thanks, I guess,” I murmured.
“One needs to be good at communication
