“Phoenix is just a copy. Nao! She’s not going to bring Eien back.”
Pulling on the reins, ropes biting into her skin. “Good-bye, Thenn.”
“Mokoya?”
She blinked. The capture pearl was gripped in her shaking hands, even though she had no memory of picking it up. The vision of Chengbee in the dying summer faded from around her. She felt like a chunk of time had been ripped from her, leaving a hollow in her body.
Rider looked afraid, but whether they were afraid of Mokoya or afraid for her, she couldn’t tell. “I apologize, Mokoya. If I had known, I would not have touched it.”
Mokoya’s fingers spasmed as she put the capture pearl back down. She had to force words through the clot of tension stoppering her chest. “Why does Tan Khimyan call you Swallow?”
Rider’s eyes widened. “Have you met her?”
She let the frost in her manner answer.
Rider intently surveyed the mess on the ground. “That was the name she gave me. She disliked the one I have.” They fidgeted like they wanted to tidy away the chaos, but didn’t dare to. “What did she say about me?”
“She said you were the one summoning the naga. She said you stole her notes. She said you’ll destroy Bataanar in your vendetta against her.”
Rider froze, then moved away so that Mokoya couldn’t see their reaction. Quietly they said, “So that is the story that she has woven, is it? Ah, Khimyan.”
The words were tainted with a filamentous tenderness Mokoya couldn’t parse. They turned back around. “How disappointing. I was not expecting this from her.”
“Are you denying this? You’re telling me she’s lying?”
“What part of that story sounds true to you?”
Mokoya folded her arms. “Whoever stole her notes broke into her compound without alerting the guards. It sounds like something you’d be capable of doing.”
“I would be capable of doing?” As Rider repeated her words, Mokoya realized how harsh they sounded, but it was too late. They had already left her mouth like a cloud of poison gas.
The guilt must have made its way to her face, because Rider said, “You are not to blame, Mokoya. After all, you know very little of me.” Hesitantly, they moved closer to her. “What can I do to ease your suspicions? Would you like to examine my belongings? It would prove I do not possess what she accuses me of taking.”
Mokoya sucked in a breath. A logical person would say, Yes, let’s do that. Let’s put aside all doubts. But the hurt she’d glimpsed on Rider’s face left a lingering chill. She felt that agreeing to this would put a permanent wall of mistrust between them. Any hope of a normal relationship would be crushed under its weight.
So she resisted. She dug her heels in against the pull of logic. She said, against her better instincts, “You don’t have to do that. I trust you.” A hundred starlings took flight in her chest as she mouthed the words.
Her declaration didn’t lift Rider’s mood as she had expected. If anything, the frown on their face deepened. “Do you? Why?”
“I trust you more than I trust Tan Khimyan,” she said, and that part was true as the sun’s path across the sky. “Besides,” she said, as the thought occurred to her, “her theory doesn’t hold weight. Like you told me, you need to put in an anchor point to travel long distances.”
“Yes, that is true,” Rider said slowly, latching on to her idea. “Not knowing what lies inside her compound, I would not risk folding in without an anchor. Not even if I were close by.”
Yes. Mokoya felt foolish. The facts were so clear, she felt embarrassed for not realizing this earlier. But Tan Khimyan had unnerved her so much, she hadn’t been thinking straight. She recalled the geography of the woman’s receiving chamber, with all its death traps, and a small laugh burst free. “She’s got a tiger in a cage. A blind jump would be a terrible idea.”
Rider reacted with a spark of recognition. “A tiger? Oh, I cannot believe she brought Khun with her. Poor Khun! He hated the summer. He must be miserable in this heat.” They leaned into Mokoya’s inner space, sharp and curious. “How does he fare? He was barely out of cubhood when I left.”
“He’s definitely not a cub now. He would probably swallow you in four bites. If you happened to jump into his cage, that is.”
And finally, Rider smiled. The discomfort between them washed away in the light of that small gesture. Mokoya felt her nerves ease for the first time since she’d entered the tent. What a fool she had been. Rider had risked their life to protect Bataanar. They had fought the naga together. Why had she believed Tan Khimyan in the first place?
Rider’s fingers brushed against her fringe, tracing topographies on the gnarled skin of her cheek. “Are you well, Mokoya? The past day has been hard on you.”
She chuckled lightly and pulled them into a gentle embrace. “I’ve had worse days. And I’m glad you’ve recovered.”
Rider sucked on their lower lip and coyly said, “I could show you how well I’ve recovered, if you like.”
Mokoya laughed and let Rider kiss her. But she made sure the kiss was contained and kept firm her grip on Rider’s hands so they weren’t tempted to slip past the point of no return. “I can’t, not now. I need to talk to my brother.”
Chapter Eleven
SECOND-SUNRISE GLIMMERED in the sky as Mokoya plunged back into Bataanar’s labyrinthine anatomy. The city’s public spaces were hemorrhaging people under the pressure of the raja’s sunup curfew, and she found herself a solitary figure wandering the hollow bones of streets, with only an occasional straggler and a circulation of iron locusts, looming and vigilant, to keep her company. Stripped of life, the white walls of the city appeared bleached by the brightening sun.
Across the city from the oasis gate, the main royal guardhouse perched on the eastern city wall, a squat edifice of dull brick protruding from the fortifications. Mokoya’s way up was barred by two of the city guard, set across the bottom of the stairwell. Both of them were tall as she was, and half again as broad.
“Entry is forbidden,” said the one on the left, a woman.
“You shouldn’t be out here anyway,” said the one on the right. He looked too young to be holding a job like this. “There’s a curfew on.”
“I’m here to see my brother,” Mokoya said, impatient. “Your captain.”
Confusion blurred the boy guard’s syllables. “We don’t allow family visits—”
“Zak, wait.” His colleague frowned at Mokoya, studying the planes of her face, the broad collection of scars. “Right, you are Captain Sanao’s sister, I’ll believe that. But we weren’t told to expect anyone.”
“I just spoke to Akeha on the talker, not a half hour ago. He knows I’m coming.” This was a fucking waste of time. She thought about cracking their skulls together and leaving them heaped at the bottom of the stairs. She might, if they delayed her further.