She stepped back to fade into the crowd. He started to follow, but his opponent took the opportunity to throw a punch, and as if someone had called out action, everyone turned their attention back to the ring and to the fight they had come to see.
As she ran, in time with her heartbeat, the name she had not allowed herself to think of for five long years beat itself in her brain.
Esh, Esh, Esh…
Chapter Three
‡
Four. Five. Six…
Safe in her apartment, Nalah counted off the locks as she engaged them, the pattern calming, bringing her down little by little until the last one clicked shut and her heartbeat approached something close to normal.
Her head fell forward, resting on the door. Safe. Safe now, from the stupidity she had – no, Fallon had – inflicted on her.
“The Cage King is im-pressive. How did you manage to walk away from that again?”
Speaking of…“Why are you in my apartment, Fallon?” Long practice stopped the irritation from coloring her voice, but only just.
“Is she asking as a serious question, or is she angry?” And there was Laire, of course. It would be too much to allow Nalah to deal with the memories on her own terms.
Fallon’s voice again, pitched higher to make sure everything she said was heard. “I’m going with rhetorical.”
As much as this situation begged for alcohol, Nalah needed her wits about her, so tea would have to do. Walking into the small kitchen, she said, “The briefing is tomorrow, and I like my privacy. I don’t belong to the Guild.”
Once in the kitchen, Nalah looked over the small island to the living area, and sure enough, sitting on the arm of her sofa was Laire in a yellow dress that fell to her ankles, but with random cut-outs along the sides, showing patches of pale skin. Her black hair was the same length as the gown and had thick streaks of yellow running through it, and on her feet were yellow shoes that consisted of two thin straps and seven-inch platform heels.
Fallon stood next to her in the usual black leather, the long coat cut to suggest her figure without being skin tight. “Don’t try that line around Kyo. Trust me, Bossman makes sure it never ends well for the speaker.”
“I’m not speaking to Kyo, and you don’t need to be following me around and entering my house uninvited.”
Tenro gleamed in its usual spot above Fallon’s shoulder. Five years of training, of familiarity with the sword, and Tenro still battered against Nalah’s magical shields. Fallon continued, “I needed face-to-face time to make sure you’re in the right spirit for this job.”
Always the job, though she had just seen Esh the first time in five years and was still shaky. Fallon never let up.
And then it was too much. “I can’t do this job,” Nalah said, slamming the kettle on the stove.
Neither Fallon nor Laire so much as flinched, and gods damn if that didn’t make her feel a foot tall. Inhale, exhale, inhale again. For several moments she played in the kitchen, readjusting the kettle and turning on the heat. “I can’t do this job,” she repeated, making sure the right amount of apology came through in the tone.
Nalah twisted to grab a cup from the cupboard and shut the door only to find Fallon so close, the fine lines around her eyes were noticeable. While there was nothing overt in Fallon’s manner, Nalah’s urge to flee went into overdrive.
Fallon spoke, her voice a deep freeze. “Three weeks ago, twenty people I called friend died. So did dozens of others who all went to their death on my watch.” She tilted her head, lowering her voice, clipping the words. “I can’t bring them back. All I can do is try to make things right. So while I realize this is the guy who makes the demons in your head run amok, the fact remains you are the only one capable of doing this job, which means you’re going to do this job. And I really don’t want to hear any more crap.”
A bubbling cauldron of emotions roiled in Nalah’s stomach. Shame was there, guilt as well, because while she hadn’t lost any friends during the break-in at Guild headquarters, she had seen the aftereffects. But there was also anger that Fallon dismissed with such ease her memories that had been brought back this last week in the form of sleepless nights and crying jags.
Displaying an emotional maturity rare for her, Laire came over and motioned Fallon back to the living area while putting her arm around Nalah’s shoulder. “Forgive Fallon. It’s still raw for us, but the truth is you are the only one who can do this. Besides,” and here Laire squeezed Nalah’s shoulder before retaking her own seat, “I think you’ll want to when you hear this.”