Chapter 10

Erhan

“Nice home you’ve got here,” Erhan acknowledged, hoping to convey sincerity that wasn’t forced.

Deep down, though, he hardly felt at home here. For though it looked like the woman had made an honest effort to maintain it, there was scarcely a hint of wood in the metallic building, and cobwebs dotted the unpolished ceiling corners. It felt precious to Erhan in a way the endless sprawling corridors of his castle did not.

These people were struggling to get by.

“Thanks,” the woman replied, not hiding her own lack of sincerity.

She was a gracious host, but part of him still wondered if he really belonged here, on the grounds of the city. He had a mission. He wasn’t about to forget that. And now that he had seen the suffering of these humans, he couldn’t just return home as if he was ignorant of their plight.

Feeling the tension in the air, Kleena, who had not ventured off to sleep, collapsing in a bed as she’d said she would, interjected.

“Thank you so much for your help,” Kleena said, as the door shut behind them. “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” The woman’s reply was curt and terse. She might have done them a major favor, but she didn’t trust them—not yet.

“Ah.”

Erhan didn’t know what to say in this context. He almost wanted to jump in and help Kleena to save her from the awkwardness of the moment.

Outside, Erhan saw moving neon lights, a sign that the same people who captured her were still seeking to get their hands on her once more. He was sure that moving this far out, routing through so many detours, would shake the district’s slave traders and bounty hunters. It was almost disturbing that they could weave their way through networks, finding them wherever they went.

He held his breath, feeling immense relief when they passed.

To their eyes, it was probably an unassuming hovel, too unremarkable to be a potential hiding place.

“I’m sorry for my mother,” the child offered.

Erhan had nearly forgotten the young boy was still there. He could see the mother holding her tongue.

But rather than scolding the child, the mother extended a hand to Erhan. “I’m Calla,” she said. “And this is my son, Marcus.”

The expression on the woman’s face was tired, but she maintained an intentional hospitality.

Erhan took Calla’s hand, returning the kindness. He could feel Kleena’s eyes burrowing into him.

“It’s good to meet you, Calla,” he said before turning to Marcus. “And Marcus.”

An unspoken sense of tension still hung in the room. In the morning, when the lights were out and the district quieted, perhaps everything would return to normal. But as far as the darkness of the city was concerned, when the law slept and the underbelly took hold, Kleena was a fugitive.

“Marcus has a good heart,” Calla said, “but we’ve been burned before.”

Erhan’s eyes darted to the back door, the entrance that presumably faced the street, and found it charred in places with boards covering it. An altercation had happened there, perhaps recently.

“I understand,” Erhan said.

“Thank you for your kindness, genuinely,” Kleena offered. She had a hoarseness in her voice Erhan hadn’t noticed before.

“You sound like you could use some water, dear,” Calla announced.

And though Erhan could see Kleena’s instinct to reject every form of hospitality trying to overtake her, Calla walked off without another word, bringing a large metal bucket to the table. With a metal glass in hand, Calla pushed the spigot button, and clean water slowly filled the cup.

The mechanism’s cleaning filter whirred, as though strained and overused. A light smoke filled the room, emanating from the machine.

Erhan had forgotten that in parts of the city, clean water was a luxury.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kleena assured her, upset at the inconvenience she’d clearly caused.

But Calla shook her head, running her fingers through her graying hair. “Ah, nonsense,” Calla said. “It’s hardly a problem.”

Erhan knew how expensive clean water filters were, and he could tell the filtration system was on its way out.

“We were actually just about to eat dinner,” Calla added. “Would you like something to eat?”

Erhan really hated the trouble they’d caused the family. He wished resources were as plentiful everywhere as they were in his castle.

But though Calla offered every bit of protest, he knew Kleena needed to take care of herself. For the past several hours, he had heard her stomach quietly gurgling as they ran through the city. His priority then had been to get her out of harm’s way, though.

Now, they could rest and recuperate.

Kleena and Erhan sat at the table, their plates stacked high with meat. Salted borca decorated the sides of the metal plates, topped with bacon, garlic, kiln, and udoff cheese. Lechen filled their mugs, still frothing.

Conspicuously, though, Marcus and Calla had no plates in front of them.

Erhan would have liked to inquire further, but before he could utter a single word, Kleena had forgotten all hesitation.

“We do have silverware, you know,” Calla interjected, watching Kleena force dripping and greasy meat into her mouth without a thought.

It really was like watching a starving animal devouring its prey.

“Mmm okay,” Kleena said with a smile, a piece of crispy meat lodged in between her front teeth.

What was wrong with Erhan that he found her more attractive this way?

“You might slow down a bit,” Erhan protested. “If you don’t, you might choke.”

“I have several questions, by the way,” Calla quipped, sitting down beside them, despite the lack of food.

Kleena smiled, swallowing her food with a satisfied gulp.

“Oh, sorry,” Kleena said. “I haven’t eaten in a while.”

Erhan rubbed his temple as Calla took a deep breath.

“I know we don’t know each other,” Calla said. “But if I’m going to keep you safe, I do need to know what I’m in for.”

Erhan looked at Kleena, who shrugged, scarfing down a fistful of the green cheese.

“I’m still figuring out parts of it, but this one was unlawfully sequestered and held captive,” Erhan told Calla.

Calla nodded. “Right, I figured that much out. I’m mostly interested in why a prince is out wandering the deadly streets of Jorvla’s capital in the middle of the night rather than gallivanting up in his palace.”

Erhan furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, honey,” Calla said. “I’ve seen worlds you couldn’t dream of. You can’t hide anything from me, not even in that tactical clothing.” She laughed. “To think that I’d never seen a Niri before. Hilarious.”

Erhan’s expression grew deeply serious, his facade broken. “Most people haven’t,” he replied earnestly.

And he dropped the bravado, explaining everything. He was surprised when, for a moment, Kleena stopped stuffing her face to just watch in fascination.

“You’ve never mentioned any of that,” she murmured.

“We didn’t exactly have time to talk.” He nodded, looking down at the table. He wondered why he had no appetite. Such delicious food should be making him salivate.

“I think, given the circumstances, you two only have one option if you want to get off the planet alive,” Calla said, having heard Erhan’s full account.

A silence overtook the table. Erhan did not expect that Marcus would be privy to such serious conversations, but his youthful appearance belied a deep precociousness.

He was a child, not much older than eight or nine. But he had seen a lot.

“Jorvla is a melting pot,” she continued. “But our neighbors are very nosy. You’ve lived on this planet, Kleena.” She turned her attention to Kleena, who wiped her mouth clean with her forearm but remained silent. “You know how people are.”

Kleena nodded. Erhan was still not sure where this conversation was going.

“You’ll need to blend in more, ‘Prince Erhan of the Niri,’” she mocked. “But if they think you two are married, I don’t believe they’ll suspect a thing.”

Erhan inhaled, watching the passing neon torches. How long would it be before they gave up the search?

Kleena’s eyes darted around the table, looking for clarification. Loudly and insistently, she laughed.

Erhan’s serious eyes turned toward Kleena, and he grimaced.

“That’s hilarious,” Kleena hiccuped. “You’re funny, Calla.”

Marcus stood up from the table, walking away without excusing himself.

“Thank you very much, but it’s no joke,” Calla replied.

Kleena bit her lip and then looked at Erhan. “But no, that’s ridiculous.” She stared intently at Erhan, hoping for support. “We barely know each other. I. Don’t. Know. You.”

Erhan nodded.

“How are we going to convince all of Jorvla I’m married to you,” Kleena protested. “I know people on this planet!”

“I know it’s hard to take, but Calla is making some sense,” Erhan said. “Given that you’re practically a fugitive, this might be the best way to hide you for now.”

He reached for her hand, hoping to comfort her. She looked uncertainly down at him as he took her fingers in his.

Erhan’s eyes went wide, feeling an electricity unlike anything he’d ever felt. Her grip relaxed in his, and he reveled in the softness of her palm. Her warmth radiated through his hand, making his blood pump faster. He swore, for a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of something bright and hopeful in her eyes.

“We can wait and see what we decide in the morning,” Calla said, oblivious to their interaction.

Erhan looked into Kleena’s eyes for reassurance. Had she felt what he had? In her face, he only saw confusion. Confusion, and a strange sense of ecstasy. “I still think it might be our best hope.”