and let some of this terror go. Maybe…
“Mattis? Are we opening tonight? And who’s back there with you?” called a voice from the front of the bar. All that laughter and relief froze in my mouth.
He squeezed my leg. “It’s okay. He’s as safe as they come. You will see. Actually, he is Nox’s grandfather.” He turned his head to shout behind him. “Cannon, I am opening. Just delayed. And here with me is Torrin’s woman, Bianca.”
A man rushed into the room. He was old, gray-haired, with weathered skin, and he wore an eyepatch over his left eye. For a long moment, he stared at us.
“Bianca, this is Nox’s grandfather, Cannon. Sir, your grandson saved our leader’s woman’s life today. I think you can expect many rewards for his doing so.”
As I rose to my feet, I tried to remember the last time I’d seen anyone’s grandfather. Or grandmother for that matter. We didn’t put much stock in the elderly playing a role in our lives. For the most part, we sent the old or infirm to live in colonies alone, and if they were really sick, we euthanized them. It was a small miracle and only my brother’s intervention that had kept me alive this long.
He bowed his head. “Forgive me, highness. I didn’t know, and we are informal with Mattis. I should watch that.”
Mattis waved his hand. “Don’t you dare start worrying about things like rank. Help me get the chairs down?” He spoke to Cannon and then winked at me. “Be careful, Bianca, Cannon has great stories. If you talk too much to him, you will lose track of the night.”
The old man blushed. “I will help with the chairs after I find the broom. I can’t locate it anywhere.”
Mattis nodded. “You might try the closet in the back.”
He waited until Cannon disappeared before he turned to me. “The Reamers captured him ten years ago. Tortured him. Took his left eye. And when he did manage to escape and come back, his mind was gone as well. Simple now. He’s a huge help to me.” He took my hand, leading me toward the direction Cannon had walked. “If you go upstairs you will find three rooms. One is a washroom. We have running water right now. Take advantage. It comes and goes with the seasonal floods. And two bedrooms. Make yourself comfortable. Sleep, if you can. It will be noisy. But maybe you can anyway, if you are tired enough.”
I nodded at him. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Does your arm hurt badly? I can give you a cream.”
I’d already forgotten it. “No, I’m fine.”
His smile was huge. “You’re like something from a dream. Falling from the sky. So beautiful. Smart. Interesting. I don’t believe in signs. Or prophecy. But maybe you are an indication that things are going to get better.”
No one had ever thought I was that, ever. I’d been a curse for my parents, being born sick. Brent loved me. We were twins. There was a bond there, even if every year it strained more and more, but even he had never referred to me as a good omen. “Thank you for your kind words. Your hospitality. And being sort of a miracle to me. All of you. Sounds like I could have fallen into the hands of the Reamers.”
“The Reamers.” Cannon came up behind us and grabbed his head. “No. Never that. Not the Reamers. Never. Ever. No.”
He rocked back and forth.
Mattis moved fast, immediately by his side. “You’re right. Never them. You’re safe here. I promise you. So is she. Torrin does all that he does to keep us all that way. Here, we’re all safe.”
See, I knew the lie here; I knew that safety was actually only a fantasy. Wisdom in the Church of the Ancients and Holies invited devotees to embrace today and make the best of it, because tomorrow was never certain. Only the ever-after, the possible and unknowable existence after death, could release us from the constant cycle of exhausting change. In other words, a good life is necessary drudgery, so find the joy in it where you can. Still, despite all my knowledge of these things, when I saw Mattis embrace this fragile, inexplicably beautiful old gentleman, Nox’s granddad, I realized a fundamental truth about myself—I was willing to entertain the fantasy of safety.
I was—maybe, possibly, terrifyingly—willing to believe in a lot of blasphemy.
Also, Mattis wasn’t wrong. I was exhausted. And no one was paying attention to me for