“Laik Var believed in you. He wouldn’t promote you if he didn’t think you were suited for the job.”
“I’ve heard he only promoted me to spite you.”
I regretted the words as soon as the left my mouth. Myar Mal was silent for a moment, and my heartrate spiked. Why did I even open my mouth?
“You believed that?”
I raised my head just to meet his incredulous gaze, then dropped it so fast my neck creaked.
“I don’t know,” I murmured. It made sense when I’d heard it, but now I wasn’t so sure.
“Neither do I,” he admitted after a brief pause. “But in the end, he is dead, and all we are left with is what we choose to believe.”
What did I believe? I remembered Laik Var as a great leader, but maybe it was only because he was the only leader I’d served under. And maybe Innam Ar was right, and I grew needlessly attached. It made my duty easier. But, in the end, I knew nothing about who he was outside of the uniform. So perhaps…
Perhaps faith was the only thing I could use to sort through my feelings.
“He was a decent man,” picked up Myar Mal. “A bit too stern for his own good. Too set in his own convictions.”
I got a feeling he wasn’t necessarily talking about my relationship with Laik Var.
“A common trait among older men, I noticed. They assume if they’ve lived this long, they must know everything and we youngsters have no choice but to obey. I imagine that if he was less stubborn, Amma and I would have had better chances. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.” He finally caught himself and his gaze turned razor sharp again. “I’m sorry, Aldait Han. I shouldn’t bother you with my problems.”
“It’s all right,” I answered automatically. But there was nothing right. Not with Laik Var being dead. Not with Amma La trying to kill Myar Mal.
Not with our supreme leader being so depressed he couldn’t carry a simple conversation without trailing off.
“You know, I think the only thing preventing you from being a good vessár is yourself.”
Although I appreciated his effort to get back on track, a bitter smile crept over my face. But Myar Mal leaned toward me, almost conspiratorially, and continued: “Come on, kid. What makes you think you’re worse than anyone else? Ten out of twelve Dahlsi are medicated for mood disorders.”
His words hit a bit too close to home for me, so before I bite my tongue, I snapped back: “Are you?”
“Now, that’s a personal question,” he scolded.
I automatically slouched in my chair. “Sorry.”
“But between you and me, yes I am. For now.”
I lifted my gaze, and for the first time, dared to give him a closer look. On the outside he wore the same aspect of strength and confidence as usual—his back ramrod straight, head held high. But up close, I could see his mask cracking; dark circles around tired eyes, creases that weren’t there a few days ago, and lips pressed tighter than before.
Until the corner of his lips lifted in a crooked version of an ironic smile and I realized that I was staring.
I immediately dropped my eyes again, trying desperately to come up with some apology that would make sense. “I’m not good with people,” I blurted. “You have to admit, that’s a pretty important skill for a leader.”
He gave out another noncommittal hum, but finally reached out to take the silver sash from the desk.
“I will honor your wish. It was a pleasure working with you; as much as it could be under the circumstances. Maybe one day you’ll want your sash back. In the meantime, is there anyone you would recommend for that position?”
Saral Tal’s face flashed before my eyes. I pressed them shut.
“No,” I said weakly.
Myar Mal hummed and turned away, thoughtful. I wondered if I should take it as a cue to leave.
“There’s one more thing I have to ask,” I spurted, “I need permission to travel to Tarviss and back.”
He waved his hand. “That’s all sorted.”
Of course it was. I wasn’t sure if I should be more impressed or annoyed.
He reached to another drawer and handed me a scroll, “and your alibi. You will travel to Tarviss as Tomoi Harrath, last of the colonists. You were working as part of the Taran Hassemel court. When Mespana came, you evaded capture by hiding in the mountains. But we finally got you and are now sending you back.
After you find your family, you’ll have to find your own way to Dahls. We will provide you with a device to locate and identify merges: the one with Dahls will probably be guarded, but you can still get back through M’velt Strabana and Xin Nyeotl. I would suggest getting a guide before you venture there, especially with civilians. Good luck.”
“Thank you.” I prepared to leave, but he stopped me with a question.
“Will you at least stay for the ceremony?”
“What ceremony?”
He clicked his tongue with reproach. “To honor our best soldiers. There’s a ring for you, too.”
The rings were given to the most accomplished Dahlsi. I wasn’t sure I deserved one.
“I’m not fond of ceremonies,” I said, and technically I wasn’t lying.
“You deserve to be there.”
His response was so close to my thoughts that an unpleasant suspicion crept up on me. I couldn’t stop myself from asking: “Were you reading my mind, too?”
He smiled, a small, sardonic smile, strangely familiar, but not suiting him very well.
“Now, if there’s nothing else you need, please excuse me, I have work to do. See you at the ceremony.”
“Of course.” I nodded, then, guided by a strange
