"No." Jess turned to go and almost faltered. Dario's hand slid under his elbow and steadied him.
"Fine, since you're begging, I'll walk you there. But I'm not washing your back."
"Gods defend us both from that terrible fate."
Dario saw him into the shower tent and left him safely deposited on a bench. Jess quickly washed the worst of the dirt and smell off himself in the small cubicle, and came out to find two things.
First, Dario had abandoned him. Fair enough.
Second, Tom Rolleson and three other members of the Blue Dogs squad-the one that Jess and Glain had belonged to, in their brief career with Santi's company-were waiting for him when he stepped out of the shower cubicle, dressed in a towel and feeling especially vulnerable. They were all in uniforms and boots and identically harsh expressions, and Jess set himself mentally for the fight. Won't go well, some part of him said, which was not a help. Probably undo all the good work the Medica put in.
There was a sick irony to surviving the Burners, only to end up dying at the hands of his friends. But he wasn't going easily, if that was the direction they intended to take it.
"Troll," he said to the squad leader. Tom's nickname, and it usually brought out a brash grin. Not this time. The young man just stared at him. He'd acquired a new scar since the last time Jess had seen him: a long, jagged one that ran along the edge of his jaw. Still pink, with a faint red line in the middle. "So what's this, then?"
"What do you think it is?" Troll asked him. The three soldiers flanking him-one a Chinese recruit named Wu Xiang, one a Greek named Phoena, and the last he didn't know even faintly-gave him identical blank faces. "Look like a welcome home to you, Brightwell? You think you deserve one?"
"I wasn't looking for it." Jess decided to move to the bench where he'd folded his clothes. When no one stopped him, he sat and, with the typical High Garda lack of modesty, took off the towel and put on underclothes while they stared at him. With each bit of the uniform going on, he felt better. "What do you want?"
"What were they like?" Phoena asked suddenly. Jess froze in the act of doing up the crisp black fabric of his trousers.
"Who?"
"The Burners."
He was suddenly, acutely aware of the humidity in the little enclosure, the ever-present faint smell of mold, the painful scrape of stiff cloth over his burns. For a second the memory rolled over him of watching the first ballista bomb hit, of seeing that first building explode into looping curls of pure death.
He didn't want to think about the Burners. He was short of breath, and when he tried to slow down and breathe deeper, his lungs gurgled again. He nearly coughed but managed not to. Not yet.
"Why?" he asked without looking up. He found himself staring at his still-reddened hands. He could see the faint scars of the glass cuts on his fingertips, and for an instant he saw the shy smile of that woman in the shop. His hands curled into fists. They hurt. Throbbed.
"Because you were in there," Tom said. "You met them. We wanted to know. Were they all-"
"Fanatics?" Jess looked up then and met Troll's eyes. His squad leader didn't flinch. "I don't know. Does it matter? I didn't sit down and have long, meaningful conversations with them. I was busy trying to figure out a way out. Why?"
///
Wu said, "Because we were in charge of loading ballistae. We need to know-"
That trailed off into silence. Jess couldn't think of anything to say to that, to the painful quiet between them, and finally, shook his head. "I don't have an answer to that question. You did what you had to do. We all did. We have to accept what we can't change."
There was a short silence, and then Tom offered his hand. No change in expression. Jess looked at it for a second, then took it and let Troll help him up. "Glad you're alive," Tom said. It wasn't a warm welcome, but it was something. "Glain said to tell you they're in the command tent, when you're ready to join them."
"I'm going to find Morgan first."
"She's in the Medica tent, but you'd best go to Glain first. Morgan's asleep, and you'll want to stay with her."
Jess leaned closer and said, "I thought you came to kick my skull in."
"Honestly?" Tom said. "Hadn't decided." He suddenly dragged Jess in and clapped him on the back, which hurt intensely, but Jess managed not to wince. Much. "You have a spot with us, Blue Dog. Always."