CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Gantalla! Come outside. It’s time for the parade.”

Gantalla looked up from the book she was reading, seeing Henrietta standing in the doorway. “Parade? What parade?”

“The warriors are heading back to the gate this morning. The whole town gathers in the main street to see them off. Come on, or we’re going to miss it.”

“Right. Yes, of course,” Gantalla said, mustering a token amount of enthusiasm. It had already been a stressful morning, and seeing the warriors marching off to slaughter her friends was the last thing she wanted to do. But as with so many things in this town, it was now going to be necessary to put in an appearance and make all the right noises of support to continue to blend in with these increasingly baffling humans. Even when she’d much rather be spending her time brushing up on her knowledge about managing infections. She stood up, following Henrietta out of the hospital.

Out on the street, the warriors were all lined up, their armour gleaming in the morning sun, swords strapped to their hips, a row of horses at the rear of the parade. Gantalla glanced at the clock on the top of the town hall and saw that it was ten o’clock in the morning. The warriors would have an hour-long trek back to the battlefield, then an hour to prepare for the gate to open. And no doubt on the other side of the gate, swarms of people were gathering, ready to risk their lives in a desperate attempt to escape the heat of Chalandros.

The sides of the road were packed with people, jostling each other as they all tried to get the best spot to watch the men pass. Some were calling out encouragements, while others muttered prayers or blessings from the gods.

Captain Leefe was at the front of the column, apparently waiting for something, and then a wiry messenger rushed down the road from the direction of the battlefield. He went straight to the captain and whispered something into his ear, and then Leefe turned to face the warriors. “Company, attention!”

The warriors all straightened, leaving off their conversations, giving one or two final waves to the crowd before turning their attention to their commander.

“Company… Forward march!”

As one, the rows of warriors began marching up the street, the stomp of their feet echoing off the surrounding buildings. Several of the serving women were flitting about in the street, tossing flower petals out of baskets, and they hastily rushed out of the way of the lines of warriors. People along the sides of the road were tossing more flowers in front of them, some of them openly weeping, others cheering their heroes on. Beside her, Henrietta grabbed Gantalla’s arm in excitement. “Don’t they look splendid,” she gushed. “So brave and strong. Oh gods, we’re blessed to have such fine men.”

Gantalla smiled, forcing herself to watch the spectacle. How much carnage and bloodshed would be wrought by their hands? And how gut-wrenchingly tragic that the humans couldn’t see any other way to deal with the gate.

The lines of warriors continued to trickle past, the horses bringing up the rear, laden with supplies and more weapons. As the last of them passed by their vantage point, people swarmed into the road behind them, following them on their slow march out of the city.

But as Gantalla’s gaze drifted across the crowd, her eyes landed on one particular man, lingering at the edge of the square, who looked far from happy about the event. And then he spotted her, and his scowl turned into an outright glare. Nalyx’s expression was so fierce Gantalla felt like she’d just been scalded by a fire.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. She knew exactly why he was so angry with her. But even knowing what the outcome was going to be, she’d been left with little choice – even if she did feel a touch of guilt about what she’d done that morning.

Perhaps if she could just explain it to him? She started crossing the street, but Nalyx saw her coming, and he swiftly turned and walked in the opposite direction. “Nalyx! Wait!” Weaving her way through the crowd of people between them slowed her down considerably, and when she finally emerged on the other side, she couldn’t see Nalyx anywhere. Then she spotted him, his back just disappearing on the far side of the town square, heading for the barracks. “Nalyx!” she shouted, but he ignored her. Not wanting to lose him, she ran after him, holding up the bottom of her long skirt so that she didn’t trip over it. She caught up to him halfway across the courtyard that led to the warriors’ rooms. “Nalyx, please, wait. I just wanted to-”

He spun around to face her, fury written all over his face. “You selfish, conniving little bitch,” he snarled at her.

“I know you’re angry, but-”

“You went behind my back and told Captain Leefe that I wasn’t fit for battle,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Do you know what you’ve done? You may as well have just cut my heart out and served it to me on a plate.”

He stalked off again, heading for his room. “Please, can we talk about this?” she asked, hurrying after him.

“No.” He shoved open the door to his room and then slammed it shut, right in Gantalla’s face.

“Nalyx!”

“Fuck off,” came the angry reply from behind the door, and Gantalla considered just walking away. Perhaps she would have more luck if she let him calm down first? But leaving things on such a sour note might just let him simmer in his own anger, and if he started avoiding her, she’d never get a chance to explain. It was a risk either way, but she preferred the idea of tackling the issue head on than trying to sweep it under the rug.

Mind made up, she braced herself for another angry outburst, then she stepped forward and opened the door, feeling once more grateful that they didn’t have locks on them.

“Would you at least just listen?” she snapped, mustering all the authority she could manage.

“You want me to listen?” he said derisively. “To a woman who’s just stabbed me in the back?”

“To a woman who’s probably just saved your life. Even if you’re too blind to see it.”

For a split second, he actually looked surprised. “I don’t think any woman in this town has ever dared to speak to me that way.”

“Well, you always did say you liked the fact that I wasn’t like the other women. Or does that only apply when I’m doing you a favour?” If he was going to give her attitude, she had no problem giving it right back again.

Nalyx folded his arms. But she saw the faintest hint of uncertainty cross his face. “Fine,” he said, though he still sounded none too happy about it. “Explain.”

“I was trying to do the right thing,” Gantalla said. “I didn’t like telling Captain Leefe to pull you out of the battle. Truly, I understand how you feel, being forced to give up the thing that means the most to you. Even if it’s only temporary.” She’d been forced to give up far too much on her journey to the gate, and to put up with conditions that had made her shudder in disgust – sleeping in vermin-infested barns, eating scraps from other people’s plates.

“But it is temporary,” she went on. “Isn’t it better to wait another week than to go into battle and get yourself killed for the sake of your own pride?”

“Pride?” He levelled a cold glare at her. “You’ve got a nerve, talking about pride. Because you know what else I found out this morning? Hm? Word is, you’re going to marry Hallix.”

“Oh, gods,” Gantalla muttered. She’d all but forgotten about that, with the chaos of the gate opening. “Actually, that’s not-”

“You know, I actually believed you were different for a while there. You spouted all that nonsense about not wanting expensive gifts and just wanting the pleasure of a job well done. You didn’t ask for jewels, you play all innocent about not wanting a husband. And then you throw yourself at the first willing man who can give you a bit of status and a comfortable living. Am I just not rich enough for you, is that it? Does Hallix have a big new house? What else did he promise you? Jewels? The finest clothes money can buy? A life of fucking luxury with every shiny bauble your heart could desire? You wouldn’t let me lay so much as a finger on you, but you’re ready to spread your legs and let that fucking oaf rut upon you? You’re a damn hypocrite, Gantalla.”

“I don’t want to marry Hallix,” she snapped at him. If only the infuriating man would actually stop and listen!

“No? Then why are half the warriors crowing about a wedding at the start of the next festival? You’ve got half the serving women in a tizzy as well, all of them clamouring for status and promising favours to the men the instant they get back to town. And now you want to pretend you’re sympathetic about cutting off my balls and preventing me from doing the one thing that would let me gain back any ground against that arrogant bastard. Well, save your pretty words. I’ve got no reason to believe a single thing you say.”

“It’s not about money. Hallix didn’t even ask me himself. Captain Leefe more or less ordered me to marry him.”

“And I bet that was such a hardship, wasn’t it? When he’s already started showering you with gifts?” He was staring at her chest, and Gantalla looked down. And her heart skipped a beat as she realised her obsidian necklace was showing. Damn it all to hell. She’d always been so careful to keep it hidden beneath her clothes, but it must have slipped out while she was running after him.

“Did he give you that?”

“No, he didn’t.” She hastily tucked it back underneath her shirt. “My father gave it to me. It has nothing to do with Hallix.”

“More lies?” Nalyx stalked forward, a deceptively gently finger tugging the gem out from beneath her shirt again. “Let’s take a look. Obsidian?” His voice was a smooth purr, carrying an undertone of barely-controlled rage. “Fuck me, that would have been expensive. Not too expensive for Hallix, though, was it? A nice little deposit to show you what else he can buy for you?” His fist tightened around the gem, his face scant inches from her own, a sneer curving his lips. Gantalla’s heart was racing in her chest. She needed to get his hand off the necklace, but how to do that without accidentally breaking it? What could she say that would calm him down?

“If you’re going to trade yourself for wealth and privilege, then at least be honest about who you are,” Nalyx sneered. “Because I, for one, can see straight through you.” With that final pronouncement, he yanked the necklace off her throat, the fragile clasp no match for his strength.

The rush of magic leaving her made Gantalla’s blood run cold. She felt the tingle in her fingers as her claws emerged, felt her tail uncoil beneath the fabric of her skirt. And her hand, abortively reaching out towards him, flashed from brown to pale green. She froze, unable to move, as a terror like nothing she’d ever known flooded through her. He was going to kill her. She was going to die, here, today.

Nalyx’s jaw dropped, his eyes opening almost comically wide. “What the fuck…?” he muttered, then rubbed his eyes, as if that would clear them of the sight in front of him.

The seconds ticked by, and both of them simply stood there, frozen in shock. Gantalla was terrified that anything she said or did might set him off. His sword was just a few feet away, resting against the wall. It would take him all of two seconds to draw it and stab her through the heart.

But Nalyx didn’t move, save for his eyes roaming slowly down over her body. And perhaps they would have stood there forever, but for a knock at the door. “Nalyx? Gantalla? Everything okay?” It was Geron, the guard from the armoury. He was too old to fight anymore, so he spent his days maintaining the warriors’ supplies instead. “I heard shouting.”

Gantalla said nothing, waiting for Nalyx to denounce her, to reveal her evil presence to Geron. And if Nalyx couldn’t manage to kill her, Geron would willingly do it for him. An untrained woman would hardly be a challenge for even a retired warrior.

The obsidian gem dangled from Nalyx’s fingers, glinting as it swayed slightly. Gantalla found the movement to be strangely hypnotic.

“Nalyx?” Geron called again.

Finally, Nalyx spoke. But what he said shocked Gantalla almost more than his snatching her necklace had done. “Everything’s fine,” he said, not taking his eyes off Gantalla. “It’s okay.”

“Gantalla?” Geron called, apparently not willing to take Nalyx’s word for it. “Are you okay?”

Finally, Nalyx moved. He handed the gem back to her, and Gantalla snatched it, quickly fastening it around her neck. “I’m okay,” she called loudly. She pressed her hand over the gem and muttered the spell the witch had taught her. A moment later, she was back in human form, her claws retreating, her tail vanishing. With one more wary glance at Nalyx, she finally dared to move, going to the door and opening it before Geron decided to just barge inside.

“We’re fine,” she said to Geron, who was standing there with a deep frown on his face. “We were just arguing. But it’s all okay. Thank you for your concern.”

Geron shot a cool look Nalyx’s way. “You wouldn’t want to harm a woman, now, would you?” he asked pointedly. “A warrior such as yourself has standards to live up to, after all.”

“Of course not,” Nalyx said, his voice sounding strangled. He cleared his throat. “It was just an argument. That’s all.”

“Fair enough.” Geron glanced at Gantalla again. “Feel free to call, if you need anything.” He closed the door again, and Gantalla listened to the sound of his footsteps walking away. She turned back to Nalyx, who still hadn’t moved.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked. The idea terrified her, but it was better to know the truth.

Nalyx swallowed hard. “What are you?” he asked, ignoring her question.

Gantalla felt a tear slide down her cheek. “In my world, we’re called the hadathmet. We’re not demons. We’re just people trying to escape a dying world and find a better life in a new one.”

“What do you want with us?”

“Nothing. Just somewhere to live in peace.” There was a moment of silence. “Are you going to kill me?” Gantalla asked again.

“No,” Nalyx said, his eyes once more roaming over her figure.

Maybe she shouldn’t ask, but she found she couldn’t help herself. He was behaving so strangely – for all that his hesitation was currently keeping her alive. “Not that I’m not grateful, but… why not?”

“I watched you save the life of a five year old boy right in front of me.” Nalyx looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time in minutes. “No one who does that could possibly be a demon.”

There were so many questions swirling in her mind. Was he going to report her to the captain? Tell the hospital staff? Or, if he didn’t believe she was evil, would he be willing to speak to the rest of the warriors and actually suggest they find a different way to deal with the flood of refugees at the gate?

But as she tried to get her thoughts in order, to voice just one single question, she found she’d run out of time. “Get out of my room,” Nalyx said, his voice cold. “I never want to see you again.”

To do anything else was pure foolishness, so, with her heart still in her throat and her eyes leaking shameful tears, Gantalla turned and let herself out, closing the door gently behind her.