Kell took several paces back when Alize emerged from the dungeon. She fumed, slamming the door shut behind her. “I need to get out of this city,” she struggled to control her shaking voice, “I need to go somewhere I can scream.”
Kell raised his eyebrows, but looked more relieved than surprised. “I know the feeling. What happened?”
“I can’t, I can’t.” Alize shuddered, “Let’s talk outside.”
Alize wanted to storm her way to the stables, but as soon as they exited the prison, Alize shook to realize she did not know how to get there. She groaned aloud, wishing the winter mist could obscure how clearly she saw the poor prospects facing her. The odds seemed stacked against her, and she could not even get her bearings in the maze of city streets. What chance was there to free her sisters?
It all seemed so futile.
“What happened?” Kell arrived beside her.
“Nothing good. I need a horse.”
“You’ll scream that loudly?” Kell began directing her through the city for the second time that morning.
“Yes.” Alize responded, disregarding Kell’s jest. “I will seek any Hrumi that survived the Temple Battle.”
“Then there are some who survived?”
“I hope some survived,” Alize corrected, “because if Fergana is the voice of the Hrumi now, they will surely all die in that prison.”
Kell wiped his brow and his face contorted in suppressed pain. “And here I thought today would be all good news,” he muttered.
“They accused me of helping you,” Alize spat, still reliving the indignation Fergana had flared in her.
“I thought you were helping me.”
“Right, but you see how that’s an accusation, don’t you? Fergana-“
A shrill cry interrupted Alize, astonishing her with its familiar pitch. She looked up to the sky and froze. A bird of prey soared above them, just over the tops of the buildings. Odd behavior for bird seeking mice. Alize’s eyes traced its gray feathers and clipped talons. Sickness washed through her.
“Kell,” Alize grabbed his arm, dragging him under a shop awning. They jostled a cart, sending onions bouncing to the cobblestones. The shopkeeper grumbled as he bent to collect them.
Kell turn to glare at Alize but his annoyance dissipated as he observed her. Her hand remained pressed to his shoulder. Hesitantly, Kell covered it with his own. He squeezed, and Alize knew he would feel her shaking.
“Alize, what-?”
“The falcon,” Alize’s muscles seized until her back ached. “It’s a Deku falcon. They must be in the city.”
“Nocturne,” Kell swore, “do you think they’re coming for Icar?”
“I don’t know.” For the moment, Alize concentrated only on her own danger. “I can’t think.”
“What about Davram? Can they locate him?”
“They need physical contact to recognize his soul. Otherwise they would not know he is…what he is.”
“That’s not all bad then,” Kell sighed. “We can’t stay here. I can get you a horse if we go quickly, because apparently Icar insists I report to him before noon.” Kell leaned back to study the sky. He nodded briefly, then pressed Alize into the street once more.
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She acquiesced with halting steps. When they entered the stables, the smell of hay and horse hair assaulted Alize with yet another unexpected despondency. “Kell,” she gripped his sleeve, “what happened to Josoun, my horse, after the Temple battle?”
“Your horse?” Kell repeated, “I never saw your horse at the Temple.”
Alize closed her eyes. “He was never at the Temple. I left him with my clan.”
Kell’s instant hesitation spoke volumes. “Alize, I’m sorry. Hrumi horses are highly valued and I had my hands full trying to keep your sisters safe. Josoun would have been sold,” Kell stammered, “if he survived.”
The news crashed over Alize. Somehow, amongst everything she had lost, she had never been prepared to lose Josoun. She had never registered him as something she could lose. It felt a mistake so unforgivable it threatened to undue her completely. Brightness stung her eyes and disgust swelled in her throat so powerfully she feared it would blind her.
“I’m sorry Alize,” Kell murmured.
Alize knew it was not his crime, not his error, but she had so little left inside her she could not keep the bitterness from her tone. “I should have expected it, right? I’m keep trying to touch the sky with weighted feet and flimsy wings.”
If Alize had cared to look, she would have seen the stunned expression on Kell’s face. There was sorrow too, deep sorrow, and as he clutched her hand, he frowned. “You’re not alone.”
“You’re right!” Alize clutched her throat, “because the Deku are here now. I can’t – I won’t go back to the citadel.”
Kell tilted his head, scrutinizing the Hrumi before him. “If you wore the shroud the whole time, then they can’t recognize you. And even when you were captive in the citadel, you had nothing to offer them.”
Alize groaned inwardly. Of course Kell demanded the whole truth. While she could not resent that, neither could she consider obliging him. She scowled but knew that offered no explanation to Kell.
Kell sighed and led her to a stall. While he outfitted the horse, Alize stared forward dumbly and wrung her hands. Kell tightened the last strap and turned to Alize, catching her wrist to halt her movements. He removed his glove and reached to brush her face with his fingertips. “You haven’t told me any reason they have to pursue you.”
Alize focused her gaze on his shirt buttons as Kell traced his fingers down her cheek. She heaved her breaths, but could feel her body relax with Kell’s touch. Suddenly through the fear she also found herself fighting against leaning into him. In her memory, his embrace was a sturdy stalwart against the worst doubts she guarded. As welcoming as the forest once had been.
But Kell could offer no comfort from her buried terror. He had no power over the Deku.
Kell murmured, “What is it that you are afraid of?”
Shame gnawed at Alize’s courage. Her hand flew to her chest, as if she struggled to breathe, but instead her fingers pressed to her dress collar. She could feel the hard skin where Viken had burned her when she arrived at the citadel, before Iedaja had intervened.
You are ours, Viken had uttered calmly over Alize’s screams.
The memory made her dizzy.
And here she stood, stuck between Fergana who asked too few questions, and Kell who asked far too many.
“I’m not afraid of them.” she muttered harshly. “I detest them!” I reject them.
“Alize.” Kell stepped forward. The space between them collapsed until it was brittle and fine as onion skin. “You must think me blind.”
Alize’s gut curdled. She was slipping back into the weakness Viken had so diligently cultivated for her. He had trampled her confidence, leaving only the grisly rinds of feebleness and suppliance. That was not who she wanted to be.
I am Hrumi, Alize reiterated silently, and I am in control.
But to Kell she said only, “You said yourself I have no reason to fear them.”
He did not break from her gaze. “No reasons you’ve confided in me.”
Though Alize could raise her chin in defiance, her palm remained over heart, probing the burn mark under the dress hem. The blackened skin had faded initially to new, tender pink flesh underneath. But over time it had all hardened into a taut scar. Alize had burned herself enough times before to understand there was magic in the black flesh, and likely not harmless.
Never forget, Viken had cooed over Alize’s vehement protests, you too carry our legacy.
“And so,” Kell’s voice seemed to reach her ears from far away, “you choose secrecy once again. We shall see if it serves you well.”
Alize narrowed her eyes. Kell assumed this was her choice. Alize could not decide if his assumption served her well or poorly.
He started towards the door, but paused, glancing over his shoulder. “And just so you know, that’s my horse I’m lending you.”
Alize sighed. “I’ll bring him back tomorrow.”
Kell was still shaking his head as he left the stables. Alize would have to navigate her path out of the city alone.