Spellhacke- M. K. England Page 0,31
my lap.
I feel more than hear Remi’s sigh where their shoulder presses against mine. They lift the tiny golden bunny from their hair and pull the maz strands apart, threading them back into the necklace.
“Do you ever wonder what the people who hire us actually do with the maz?” they ask, voice flat as they start in on a darker, more complex spell. Something for our job tomorrow, probably.
I shrug, and my shoulder brushes against theirs, warm and close. I shiver and scoot away as subtly as I can.
“Not really. Probably not making vicious attack rabbits that want to kick me in the face, unlike some people. I imagine some are cooking up stims or weaving illegal spells, but . . . I think a lot of people just remember having free access to as much maz as they wanted, before the plague. They’re like you. They want to be able to live like they used to.”
I pause and consider, tracing patterns in the stars with my eyes. “I don’t know, maybe that’s naive. The balance of innocent to illegal is probably worse than I think it is. And the people who are buying more maz for daily life aren’t the ones who have none. They’re the ones who miss the convenience and want to get around the rationing. It’s not like we’re maz-liberating heroes or anything. But we need the money for a good cause, right?” I ask, turning to look at them.
They refuse to meet my eyes, instead putting the finishing touches on a deep blue-black spell, then placing it to one side to settle and fuse. It’ll be stronger tomorrow than it would be if we used it right away, the way the leftovers of a spicy dish are always more flavorful the next day. They stare at the spell for a long moment, then fold their hands in their lap and wiggle one foot back and forth.
“I hate the idea of you all doing this really dangerous job just for me. So I can play with this new maz, if that’s really what it is. So I can go to the school I want. Maybe we should just call it—”
“Stop,” I snap. Every muscle goes tense, going from bone-weary tired to thrumming with adrenaline and ready to hit something in a single second. “It’s not all about you, you know.”
“I know that,” they say, matter-of-fact. I purse my lips and brace my hands on the ground to push to my feet, but Remi places one hand on my knee and just says, “Don’t.”
My whole body goes warm. I don’t move. They close their eyes and take a breath, then forge on.
“Do you want me to stay, Dizzy?”
They open their eyes again, and the world falls out from under me. I’m pinned, my lungs and vocal cords frozen, my mind perfectly blank.
Just say it, my brain screams as it comes back online. Stay, please stay, I can’t come with you, but I don’t want to be without you. Please stay.
My body recoils at the thought.
“You want you to stay” are the words that actually came out. “You want to go to Kyrkarta U.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Their hand squeezes my leg, and they turn farther toward me, leaning closer.
“Ask me to stay.”
No, no, no. Pathetic, I’m pathetic, totally unable to form any words that might actually work for this situation. I don’t need them, I can live without them, can start my new job and get my own place, can survive while they abandon me for a new life in Jattapore. They’ll only end up leaving me eventually anyway. Them staying now would only delay the inevitable.
I can’t do this.
I can’t.
Eventually Remi takes their hand away. They push to their feet and brush the dirt off the seat of their galaxy-print sleep pants.
“Don’t stay up too late,” they say. Their fingers ghost over the shaved side of my head once, lingering, before they retreat.
The door clicks shut behind them.
“Don’t leave me,” I reply to the empty rooftop. It’s just about as likely.
I drop my head into my hands, raining glowing stars from my hair down into the night.
Eight
THE CONVERSATION ON THE ROOFTOP feels like a hazy, half-remembered dream the next morning. Remi stands next to me on the train, deliberately not looking at me, but otherwise chattering away. They’re not acknowledging anything at all out of the ordinary. Probably for the best. This job will require us all to be our best, least-distracted selves.
The four of