Page 33 of Runes To Rain
“So he won’t send me back?” I ask quietly.
“No,” she says, “you won’t ever go back there.”
I relax, and finally, tears begin to flow. Lily sits with me for a while, wiping the tears from my cheeks and holding my hand until I fall asleep again.
The next time I wake, I feel nearly like myself again. The voices are completely gone. I push myself up, feeling a little weak, but other than some pain in my abdomen, my body feels better.
I notice that the door is cracked open. I also see a cup of water on the table by the bed and my clothes laid out on a chair in the corner of the room. I pull off the soft shirt and pants and fold them neatly before dressing in some of my own things.
Strong emotions bubble up in my throat, but I don’t have time for them right now. There have been far too many emotions to deal with recently, and I’m tired. I’ll deal with it later.
I wander out the door and follow the smells of breakfast and glorious coffee into a small dining room with a table set under a window. Malam sits at the table and looks up as I enter. I freeze under his gaze, and the voices suddenly start up in my head. This time, without the drugs confusing things, I recognize them as the intelligence and instincts that have helped me in every action until I went to the center. With that, I relax, walk to the table, and drop into a chair.
Without meeting Malam’s gaze, I ask, “Can I have some coffee?”
He pushes an empty cup and a carafe of coffee to me without speaking. I pour myself a cup and sip it gratefully. The first joy I’ve felt in a long while perfuses my body.
I hear Lily walk in the door behind me. “Chaosta,” she says cheerfully, “you’re awake! Do you want breakfast?”
I nod, still focused only on the coffee in the cup in front of me. However, she must understand because moments later, she sets a plate full of bread, syrup, and some kind of meat in front of me.
As she takes a seat at the table, I hear her say, “Malam,” with a soft growl in her voice.
Another warning, although again I don’t understand why. This time, though, the intelligence in my head tells me I don’t care, so I dig into my breakfast without thinking further about it. However, the pressure in the room lets up, so that’s nice.
I finish clearing my plate, my stomach happily full and my heart filled with joy from the good food and coffee. Lily sets her hand gently on my arm, and I look up at her.
“Now that you’re feeling better, Malam is going to take you back to your home.” I watch as she looks across the table at Malam, her expression strangely annoyed. “Isn’t that right, Malam?” she prompts, her voice overly bright.
She stares across the table for a minute, and the energy in the room shifts again, the tension increasing. Then she looks back at my face, her eyes bright with joy. “It’s been lovely to meet you, even with the less-than-happy circumstances,” she says to me quietly. “You are welcome here anytime.”
“Thank you, Lily,” I mumble. As I glance at her, I note that her eyes are a little too bright.
“One minute,” she says with a forced cheerfulness. “I made you a small traveling bag with your things and some food for the road.” She leaves the room and comes back with a small linen bag that has a shoulder strap.
I take it from her with shaking hands and hang it over my shoulder. Belatedly, I realize Malam is no longer here. Lily directs me to the front door, where I see him pulling on his shoes. As I pull my shoes on, he turns and leaves without a word. Lily silently squeezes my arm, but her attention is on Malam as he walks out the door.
“Don’t worry,” she says quietly, “this too will blow over.” While she says it to me, I have the feeling she might actually be speaking to herself.
I thank her again, and with that, I walk out the door behind him.
RETURN AND RETRIBUTION
Ifollow Malam down many flights of stairs. After I make it down several, I pause, my legs shaking and the wound pounding with my heartbeat. Malam continues without me, but he must realize I’m not following because after a moment, he turns and comes back.
“Do you need me to carry you?” he asks, his voice soft. His face is still frozen in a mask. Strong feelings flit across it, and he’s focusing on something over my head, against the wall.
“I don’t need to be carried, I just need to rest for a minute,” I say, and the annoyance is clear in my voice.
He nods, still staring at the wall.
A few moments later, my legs have stopped threatening to give out, and the pain in my side has receded. I move forward again, and Malam turns, walking in the lead. This time, though, he walks more slowly and stays closer to me.
After several more sets of stairs, we arrive at the ground level. After taking a few more moments for me to rest, we leave through the front door of the building, and Malam hails a carriage. As it comes to a complete stop, the horses snort, trying to crane their necks to look at me around the blinders. I huff atthem as I move to the carriage, agreeing with them somehow about the irritation of emotional males.
The ride is quiet. Malam continues to stare at something above my head, his face still a mask. In the silence, I lean my head back against the carriage and take the opportunity to rest.
Eventually, the carriage slows, and I hear him shift and feel him staring at me. I open my eyes and see him glance away momentarily. His shoulders are tense, and his throat bobs as he swallows. “I would be thankful if you don’t tell anyone about the apartment or Lily,” he says, and I hear vulnerability in his voice.
