Rapture (47 page)

Raine shook his head. “I understand your grievances, Nyxnissa. I forgive you.”

“You… what?”

“I forgive you. When you drove that sword through me in Chenja, I thought I would die. I had made my peace with God. I stared up at that sky and it was the most peaceful I’d been in… years. The pain… it was nothing. It just bled out of me. Fear, pain, anger… it was very liberating. There was a flash flood not long after, and it pulled me up along with it. I rode that tide for a long time. I’m not even sure how long. When I woke, your blade was still in my gut and I was still alive, washed up near a little homestead. A man named Abbas and his fourteen wives. Fourteen.” He shook his head. “And you should have seen the number of children. They took me in and called for a magician. It was another day before the magician came, and I was nearly gone by then. But as I hovered there at the edge of death, everything changed for me. I saw everything in those moments. My fate. The fate of Nasheen. The fate of the world. We have lost our faith, Nyx. What we need is to set it right again. God told me we must return to the literal word of the Kitab.”

“Oh fuck,” Nyx said. “They were all right. You really have gone stir crazy bug fuck. God didn’t talk to you, Raine. You were hallucinating.”

“I’m not here to convince you of anything, Nyx, only to speak the truth of what happened and what was said to me. I knew someone would come for me. I just… God did not see fit to tell me it was you.”

“For good reason, I’m sure.”

He seemed puzzled. Then a broad grin lit up his haggard face. “You don’t believe me,” he said.

“I don’t believe in much of anything,” she said.

“That is your curse. I pity you. Those without belief can be taken in by anything. Without strong beliefs, well… a person could be persuaded to believe anything.”

“The way you were?”

“We’ve been second class in Nasheen for centuries. Fodder for an endless war. We want equality, Nyx. That’s all.”

“Equality,” Nyx spat. “You want two years of your life at the breeding compounds? You want to be a vessel for twenty babies, all of them carted off to get blown up in some war? Then you want to give up another two years at the front, throwing your body against munitions with the boys? Come home and raise up some house boys and girls from the coast and then throw them out, too? We’re just the caretakers for the fodder, Raine, when we’re not the fodder. If it’d been you here at home while we fought the war, it wouldn’t have been any easier. At least you had a dream of home. I was already home. I knew it was all a lie.”

“I won’t have a state that treats my body as a disposable thing.”

“We all give our bodies to Nasheen. You’re not special. You keep going on about how you want to change things for men. Surprise, Raine. The whole bloody system is fucked. Nobody else in this bloody country is any better off than you are.”

“The men—”

“What’s your solution? Bring the men home but keep women in the compounds? Men get back their bodies but women don’t?”

“We’ll deal with that when it comes. The important issue right now—”

“Is men’s advocacy. Yeah, I get it. Men at the expense of women. You need to change the whole system to be free, not just improve your part in it.”

“But if we started with—”

“As soon as you improve your lot, you’ll fuck over the rest of us, the same way we did you. I know what people are like, Raine. Humanity is a monster you can never kill.”

“The only monster I’m looking to put down is the war,” Raine said. “Killing a man doesn’t kill a war, Nyx. I understand politics. It’s more than just blowing up a school or chopping off a head. Even if the head’s mine.”

“I told you I wasn’t here to kill you.”

“I have faith in many things, Nyxnissa, but faith in your ability to deliver a man alive to the bel dames? Let’s say that undertaking this journey with you will certainly test my faith to its utmost.”

“I’m sure you can write a book or something about it later.”

She glanced down at his knee. It looked terrible. How he managed to natter on with a shattered knee astounded her. Always full of surprises, Raine. And now he thought he was some fucking prophet. Fatima wanted her to bring a delusional, self-proclaimed prophet back into Nasheen? One Fatima had already tried to kill once?

The hedge witch appeared in the doorway, saving her from further blathering.

“God’s grace, that’s a fine mess,” the hedge witch said in heavily accented Nasheenian.

“You have no idea,” Nyx said.

+

“It’s that bel dame,” Adeliz said.

Inaya sighed. “Bring tea, please. Perhaps that will dissuade her.” She stood in her communications room, wearing a long dark habit and coat. She had her traveling cap on the table, and a single pack at her feet. They would burn the rest down after them.

Nyx stepped in.

“Everyone lived?” Inaya said lightly. “That must be a first for you.

On this trip? Yes.” Nyx stepped up to the table.

Inaya tapped out the pattern that opaqued the information on the slide.

“We’re leaving,” Nyx said.

“And we will part right after you,” Inaya said.

Adeliz came back in, bearing tea. Inaya took her cup. “Tea?” she said. “Rather drink piss,” Nyx said.

“Thank you, Adeliz,” Inaya said.

“And what have you decided to do with Raine?” Inaya asked. “He’ll be staying here.”

“What, in Ras Tieg?”

“Best place for him.”

“I don’t understand. Weren’t you supposed to bring him to Nasheen?

That’s what we’ll tell them.”

“Who?”

Nyx picked up the tea. Sniffed it. “What is this?”

“Jasmine.”

Nyx sipped it. “Huh,” she said, and took another sip. “Anyway, I need a safe place for Raine for a while. Think your people could watch after him?

No.”

“Come on, Inaya. At least until the knee is better. He’s promised me he’ll stay out of your hair.”

“We’re burning this place after us. He can’t stay.”

“I know you can get people smuggled out of here safe. I can’t do that and get back to Nasheen. Help me out. One last time.”

“No.”

“What about Khos? You still in touch with him? He’d know how to get somebody over the border.”

“No,” Inaya said. She thought of the last time she saw Khos, and re membered the letters. Her children would never see them now. “You know, Khos came to me when I was in prison.”

“Did he? That’s quite a trip. Folks have been telling me your little rebellion thing here has gotten pretty exciting.”

“That’s why it seemed so odd. I expected he was there to retrieve me.

But that meant giving up your people, right?”

“Doesn’t it always?”

“Huh,” Nyx said. “And he didn’t say anything?”

“Just the usual nonsense about going home. But… well, there was one strange thing. Maybe you know something about it. You were close to him, weren’t you?”

Nyx shrugged. “We worked together.”

“He said it in Nasheenian. He said, ‘Look to what you devour.’ I thought maybe he was telling me something in code, maybe just telling me the food had saffron in it. It wasn’t terribly helpful.”

“In Nasheenian?” Nyx said, and laughed. “It’s slang, Inaya.

What?”

“It’s slang for when you go down on somebody, you know,” and she waggled her tongue.

Inaya grimaced. “You’re so crude.”

“That’s what it is.”

“Why would he say something like that?”

Nyx gnawed on that. “There’s a tavern in Punjai called the Licking Cat,” Nyx said. “Folks talk about it a lot using that phrase. It’s a joke. You know, look to what you eat because… Yeah, you wouldn’t get it. Anyway. There any taverns here called something like that? Make allusions to getting a good rub?”

“I wouldn’t know about that.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you? The rebel leader with an eye on every fucked up thing going on in her town?”

Inaya considered that. They had surveillance at most taverns in the area. “I’ll ask my operatives,” she said.

“Come on, Inaya, say you’ll take him. I promise, that tavern thing is a good tip.”

“Let him stay,” another voice said. Nyx knew it. Isabet.

Isabet stood in the doorway, dressed all in white muslin. Her hair was clean and brushed, bound in a simple white scarf. Even with her imperfect skin, she was a lovely thing, and Nyx could understand what Eshe had seen in her. A poor, unsuspecting little rich girl getting far too deep into matters she did not understand. Eshe always had a thing for those sorts. Nyx felt another sting of grief, and pushed it aside.

Inaya turned, and she and Isabet spoke in Ras Tiegan for a time. Finally, she sighed. “Isabet insists we help him,” she said, “though I have no idea why she should feel any desire to help you.”

“She’s not helping me,” Nyx said, “just finishing what Eshe started.” Inaya narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure,” she said.

Nyx finished her tea. “As for me, I’ve got a bounty to bring home.

Or say I’m bringing home. It’s going to be a terribly fun time. I can see you’re disappointed to miss it.”

“I’m sure we’ll have all the enjoyment here we can handle,” Inaya said.

N
yx stepped out into the rainy morning. Rhys waited on the stoop of the old factory that Inaya’s compound was built beneath. There was a smell of smoke in the air. Nyx heard the sound of gunfire, far off. “I’m glad this is a short trip,” Nyx said.

“I’m sure you’d love to stay longer,” Rhys said.

She looked off further down the lane, where Ahmed and Safiyah were buying food from one of the only open stalls. “Sure you’re not coming?” she said.

“I’ve had my fill of bel dames, thanks,” he said.

“You think you can make your way to the port?”

“Inaya’s always been precise with directions. I expect I’ll have little trouble finding any number of ships fleeing Ras Tieg right now.”

Nyx nodded. She pulled on her hat. The hats here were like cowls, covering the neck and face with a fitted sleeve, topped in wide brims. She hated them.

“We done then?” she said.

“Good luck with Fatima.”

“The words ‘luck’ and ‘Fatima’ should never be used in the same sentence. We’ll see what her reaction is when we say we’ve brought him back. I think I can get something out of her.”

“What are you going to do about the boys? The new government?

Raine’s agreed to handle that from here. He sent out some communications last night to let people know he’s alive. I had him put somebody in his place, too. Somebody to speak for him. Help with the politics.”

They stood for a while longer in the rain. Nyx heard more gunfire. She knew it was time to move. Her feet were already wet. She never bought the right shoes in these cold countries. Trouble was, her feet were going to take her in a different direction from Rhys.

“I should go,” Nyx said.

“Nyx?”

“Yeah? ”

“When this is over, what happens?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nyx?”

“Rhys?”

“Have you ever been happy?”

She thought of Radeyah, and drunk nights at the fights. Dinner with Anneke’s squalling kids. The stink of the ocean. And she remembered, during all those moments, of yearning for this one: the sound of gunfire, and Rhys’s body beside her.

“No,” she said.

She turned away, and started walking across the muddy street to join what remained of her team. Cutting everything up, cutting everything away. And for what? A chance at saving Nasheen from blowing itself all to hell? Some days she wondered if it was worth it. She had killed a lot of people, for nothing. Given up everything she loved, for nothing. Saved nothing.

She heard splashing behind her, and turned.

Rhys came at her.

She half thought he meant to shoot her, and stepped back, pivoted left.

But he slipped his arms around her and embraced her. He pulled away before she could figure out how to hug him back.

“I have always been happier without you,” he said.

“I know,” she said.

He released her, and then he was off and away, through the blinding sheets of rain.

Nyx stood there for a good long while, until Ahmed tapped her on the shoulder.

“You coming?” he said.

“What?” she said.

“Come along, cat gut,” Safiyah said. “Let’s find some breakfast while he runs along home. Your road isn’t as easy as his.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” Nyx said.

I
sabet gazed long into the polished metal mirror in the room Inaya had given her. The Fourré headquarters was strangely quiet. Just a few others were left. If she did not move now, there would not be another chance. Using her teeth and her remaining hand, she knotted a black length of cloth around the stump of her upper left arm. She took the long dagger her mother had given her from its place beneath her bed. No one had thought to search her rooms when she first joined the Fourré. She had assumed they would, and hidden the dagger the first few months she lived among them. But after a time, she realized Inaya had swallowed her story whole cloth, and the deception was not necessary. So the dagger hid in plain sight.

She sheathed the dagger at her hip and drew on her long coat. With her weapon concealed, she crept out into the hallway and made her way to the storage rooms below. She did not have much time.

Her belly felt heavy and overfull, as it had for many months. But it had never been a child she carried. A child was a prettier story. She had seen just how lovely a story it might be written on Eshe’s face when he offered to marry her. She had believed, just for an instant, that together they could somehow change their fate.

But that was not what God wanted.

At the door to the prisoner’s room, she paused. Drew a deep breath. She pushed the door open.

The man was asleep. His wounded leg was mostly mended, but the hedge witch had obviously given him something for the pain. Isabet drew her knife and stepped forward. Knife poised, she hesitated. He was just an old man. How was it one old man had the power to change everything? She wished, again, that it had not all gone so wrong. Wished her mother would have lived longer, and not sold her to Genevieve Leichner as some virgin maid. But being a virgin maid had given her the backstory she needed to infiltrate the Fourré, and to do it at far less risk than Saint Genevieve’s real daughter.