the impression of gathering energy. Then his hands snapped across each other, flashed out. Pa-pop, pa-pop. Four spikes of green luxin, each as long as a finger, shot out in two volleys. Around the fire, almost simultaneously, four heads burst open with wet splatters. The wounded. Their moans stopped instantly.
Kip goggled.
Zymun looked pleased with himself. He folded his green spectacles and tucked them in a pocket.
He’s showing off. He’s showing off by killing people.
Zymun frowned suddenly as Kip stepped close. “What’s your name?”
“Kip,” Kip said, before thinking that it might be a poor choice to use his real name.
“Kip, you have a tooth in your head.”
Huh? Kip showed his teeth and pointed. “Actually, I have all my teeth in my head.” Play it like you don’t want to throw up, Kip. Push through this.
“No, not your tooth,” Zymun said. He gestured to his own scalp like he was being a mirror.
Kip reached up and, sure enough, there was a tooth sticking in his scalp. What the hell? He pulled it out, wincing, and fresh blood dribbled down his face.
“Hmm,” Zymun said. “Maybe we’ll take you by the chirurgeons first and get you looked at.”
“First?” Kip asked.
“Yes, of course. Lord Omnichrome insists on meeting all of our drafters. Even the sloppy ones.”
Chapter 71
As darkness fell over the vast host, Liv wandered through campsites, becoming more and more aware that she was alone and female, surrounded by rough men. Lots of rough men. Men who were laughing too loud, drinking too much, afraid of the coming battle. And if being Tyrean had made her an outcast and studiously ignored back at the Chromeria, here she had no such protection. Most of the men looked at her subtly enough that if she hadn’t been so intensely aware of being alone and not wanting to be looked at, she would never have noticed it. Others stared at her so blatantly that she checked her neckline. Nope, it was quite modest.
Just a few jackasses who’ve been away from their wives for too long.
She was practically starving, and though she didn’t want to stop at any campfire, it was the only way to get not only food, but information.
Liv picked a campfire with some kind-looking farmers huddled around a pot of stew. She couldn’t see everyone before she entered the circle, of course, but a few of them looked kind, and it was the best she could do.
“Good evening,” she said, a little more cheerily than she felt. “I’d give half a danar for some stew. You have any extra?”
Eight heads swiveled toward her. An older man spoke. “It’s a mite thin to call it a stew. One rabbit, a couple tubers, and the leavings of a javelina leg between nine mouths.” He smiled, self-effacing. “But Mori did find a grapefruit tree the soldiers missed somehow.”
Feeling reassured, Liv came closer. The man looked at her eyes, blinked, and said, “If you’re getting hassled, you should put on your spectacles, young lady.”
“Hassled? Why would you think that?” Liv asked. “And it’s Liv, thank you.”
“You look as skittish as a deer at a watering hole, that’s why.” He handed her a tin cup of broth with a few chunks. He waved off her attempt to pay him. She ate the thin stew and the small, underripe grapefruit they gave her, and mostly sat and watched.
After a time, the men returned to their talk of war and weather and crops they hadn’t bothered to plant this year, citrus trees they hadn’t bothered to prune because if they bore more fruit, it only meant the bandits would spend longer close to their village. They weren’t bad men. In fact, they seemed quite decent. They had their complaints about King Garadul, and one muttered darkly about a “Lord Omnichrome” before remembering that a drafter was present, but they reserved their hatred for their occupiers.
The nuances of the rotating rule of Garriston were lost on them. They didn’t differentiate between the better and worse occupiers. They hated them all. One had lost his daughter a number of years before when a patrol had passed through their village and an officer had simply taken her. He’d gone to Garriston afterward to try to find her, but never did. The others had come partly for their friend, partly because they had nothing else to do and taking a city might drop a few coins into their hands, and partly because they hated the outlanders.