She'd Rather Not

— Jaida, Kashmar —

The rumors were everywhere. Zaid was victorious, or in chains in a dungeon below Sand Castle. The enemy were nearly at the gates, or they were cursed by Enclave to wander blindly through the desert. Riches would come pouring into Kashmar, or the treasury was secretly empty. Nubile sex slaves would soon be sold in the city for cheap, or rebel cannibals were raiding Kashmar's farming towns in revenge. They said anything and everything, and very little was informed by facts.

Jaida was better informed than anyone, assuming she could trust Vivian. According to the spying masseuse, Zaid received his concubine's final message shortly before giving up his head. Vivian had shared the news one afternoon over tea, while the remainder of her household was at their chores. It was just the two of them and a baby too young to talk, sleeping in Jaida's lap. Exactly how Vivian got her messages was a mystery. That was especially true on a day when the two of them had been together since almost dawn.

It was time to close the house, and quickly. The girls had to go away early for their winter reunions with their families. She didn't give them reasons or time to prepare. Jaida woke them early, made them pack, and hired the usual carriage to take the long circuit to all their homes, starting with those in town and ending with the ones far to the north, as distant as Bodrum. Then, she gave her remaining staff three days off and sent them away.

The surprise approach was Vivian's suggestion. Jaida had no second home or living family, so she couldn't claim to depart for a country house. She was a traitor to the Tyrant, however much Zaid betrayed her first, and any plans to leave the city would raise suspicion. If she was doing something odd, it was best done quickly. She bundled her babes, Leah and Emil, aged two and four, and packed everything essential. Then, she packed everything of value she could carry. She started with the jewels, which wouldn't raise as much silver as they cost but were convertible nonetheless. Most of her clothes were of the less-is-more variety, but some were expensive silks threaded with tiny jewels. On top of her convertible riches, she laid her ancestors' household shrine, packed into a padded box with all its figurines. The women changed into traveling clothes: a dark cloak over a long, simple tunic for Jaida, and a vest with many straps and pockets for Vivian.

Vivian didn't tell her how they were leaving Kashmar, only that they were. The four of them were set to make a clean escape until news reached the city: The gate at Morufu's Teeth was overrun, and Calique forces were in the North doing who-knows-what. Where idle hearsay had excited embellishments no one took seriously, hard news created panic. Carriages were lined up at the city's gate within the hour as every wealthy freeman tried to flee, taking with them a fraction of Kashmar's wealth. Jaida's girls had made their departure with hours to spare, but Jaida was stuck. Princes stayed put, as the saying went, and that applied to princely families too. She was expected to put her unconditional faith in Tyrant Ormaz and remain in Kashmar, no matter how grimly events unfolded. Whatever escape Vivian had planned would have to be revised.

So, Jaia was worried but not fearful. Harrence was supposed to come that night, and all they had to do was wait. They kept the children entertained with toys they were not taking with them. They cooked and ate the last meal from their kitchen. The final hour of light wore on until visitors arrived, banging on her front door with a demanding fist.

"Hang on to your children," said Vivian, "and hide."

Jaida scrambled to scoop up her two babes, tired-eyed in the lantern light, and fled to the children's bedroom. It had the thickest walls, the most secure door, and a secret way outside. The front door banged open as she passed, and she caught a glimpse of four men around a small battering ram. They were armed with knives. If she had any thought her visitors were friendly, that put the idea to rest. Friends did not bring battering rams when they came calling. They belonged to Taraneh, or some other prince's wife, thinning competition for the next generation's ranking.

Vivian stopped at the doorway and swept her arm across the open frame. A cloud of green smoke exploded from her hand, covering the intruders. The four of them kept running, into the hardened room and barred the door behind them.

"Will that powder kill them?"

"It'll blind them for a while. But they had more men waiting on the road." Her mouth twisted in frustration. "We still have an hour before Harrence comes. Maybe they'll want to talk." The nursery door banged under a large fist, startling them both. Their ram didn't fit in the narrow corridor beyond, which meant they'd have to work harder to break the heavy door. It would buy Jaida a little more time. The children were terrified into silence, but they would start crying any second.

"You're being most impolite," Jaida called her intruders, who ceased their bangings. "One should send a board when inviting themselves to someone else's home. I could have made myself absent, and all parties would be spared this embarrassment."

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There were mutterings on the other side. Then, a deep, smooth voice answered her, "Why don't you come out and give us lessons in etiquette? We're so eager to learn."

"It would be unseemly, to tutor strange men after dark. What would my husband think?"

"Tell him Taranah sent us with her recommendation. You can't refuse the first wife. Isn't that the way princely families work?" His voice was closer now, just on the other side of the door. "Send the children. That's what she wants. But it doesn't have to be the end for you. I know a Hyskian, a slaver who deals in high-end merchandise. You'll go for a pretty sum and be well treated. You can have more children. I'll let you think about it."

Jaia had already lost one child to Kashmar's zealous tyranny. She wasn't going to give up another. The question was, how far was Vivian willing to go to help her? She would probably leave them right now if she could. If the war was finished, then so was Jaida's usefulness. Getting their source out of Kashmar made sense as long as they could accomplish that goal for free, but the situation had changed. Now it would cost them.

"I have a tincture," she spoke through the door, "to put the children to sleep. I don't want them to suffer. Give me time to say goodbye."

He said something in return but Jaida didn't listen. She crossed the room and, with hand signs and Vivian's help, moved one of the little beds. The children started to wail, afraid of all the strange things happening. A pried-up tile showed a tunnel plunging underground with rungs of a ladder carved into the shaft's side.

"It's too small for me, but you can fit," she whispered into Vivian's ear. She let the children cry, to cover their conversation. "Take them and the jewels." She dug out the most compact pouch of valuable adornments and tossed it at her. Vivian started messing with the many straps on her vest, loosening some and extending others. It was weird, but maybe she would split the load into several pockets so she wouldn't get stuck in the tunnel.

Jaida turned her back on Vivian and the children to mix the sleeping elixir in a spouted cup for children. When she turned around again, she froze.

Vivian was pantless, and her vest hung strangely on her. She had also grown a lot of hair, all over her body.

As Jaida watched, her limbs changed shape. Her belly pooched out, and she grew a tail. Her nose lengthened into a snout, and her eyes grew dark and black. Both of her children were stunned into silence. Jaida was aware her mouth was open

Generations of breeding in the Hadith Line had failed to produce a shape-changer, but one had been living in her house for months. But Vivian's animal was far from attractive. If Jaida stumbled on the fifty-kilo creature living in her house without knowing it was a person, she would have gladly paid someone to kill it. Some part of her brain was working well enough to notice that the animal's vest fit it perfectly.

"Vivian fluffy!" said the youngest, and patted the shaggy animal's gray and white fur.

The animal stood on its hind legs and shrugged, acknowledging her ugliness. "Leah, get on Auntie Vivian's back and hold on," whispered the trash mammal. "Your mother will join us later."

Jaida rushed to kiss her children. "Emil, you climb down after them. Take good care of your sister while I'm not there. Be brave, so your father will be proud of you."

"Yes, mother." He was an active boy. He climbed things all the time, even when he shouldn't. A ladder into a mysterious corridor might as well be candy to him. He lifted his little sister onto animal-Vivian's back, wrapped her little arms around the shaggy neck, and found purchase on the straps for her feet. Leah could cling like a monkey when she wanted to.

For the first time she could recall, she lied to her children. "I'll join you as soon as I can."

All her treasures disappeared into the dark shaft, carried by a woman she liked but could not fully trust. For most of Jaida's life, she'd followed the path laid out for her. A late daughter to a low-ranking house, a pleasure wife, and then mother. But ever since they'd taken her Donis away, she'd taken to gambling for higher stakes. She made choices now. In plays and stories, women in her position died proudly, dedicating themselves to the very same powers that demanded their lives. She wasn't going to stand and die like they wanted her to, like so many others had done before her.

As she moved the tile cover into place, she saw a greenish light throw their shadows. It seemed Vivian came prepared for underground excursions. Their excited whispers floated up to her, hushed voices of curious children. Even little Leah was easy to distract from pain or fear just by telling her to look! What do you see? Isn't that strange? It was the best chance she could offer them. Quietly, she moved the bed to cover up their secret exit.

Jaida drank the sleeping elixir. Then, she took the oil lantern from its nook in the wall and lengthened the wick, bringing up the light. "They're almost asleep," she told the man behind the door. "How do I know you'll keep your promise?" She plucked the oil-soaked wick from the lantern and set it aside on the tiled floor.

"Does it matter?" Said the smooth voice. "You might as well take the chance. It's the same to your little ones either way. Don't you want to make sure it's done neatly? No unnecessary pain?"

"It's not the same to you." Carefully, she poured the lamp's contents along the base of the door, willing the oil to flow under the gap and into the hallway. "Why should I let you off with clean hands if you won't keep your word? If God imposes a cost on child murderers, why shouldn't you be the one who pays it?"

"Then let me in, and I'll take of it." The offer was reasonable, even kind. "I promise it'll be clean. After, I might even buy you for myself. I've seen you in the street, how beautiful you are. You have more children in you."

"I think …"

"You think what?"

Jaida's drowsy hands put the flaming wick to the gathering pool of oil.

"I think I'd rather not belong to anyone."

The violent pounding resumed, but the door stood firm. Zaid had it built, the first time he'd made his promise. Jaida laid down on the bed where Donis used to sleep, and she waited. Let them shout in alarm. Let them try to break the door. The longer they spent dealing with the fire she set, the longer Vivian had to get away with her treasures. She fell asleep to the sounds of panicked men and dreamed of burning them like living torches.