“Are you going to drag me back?” Taryn says with a bite in her voice that I respect.
“No way. They left me to sit and twiddle my thumbs until they found you. I say let them stew.”
She turns her head and stares at me. “You’re not so bad, Omega Keres.”
“Neither are you.”
She pulls out a flask and hands it to me. “Marshall’s rice wine.”
I take the flask and drink a mouthful. It tastes awful, but the burn of alcohol hits the spot. I hand it back and watch as she sips and puts the lid on.
“Did you have kids, Keres?”
I wince, recalling the memory I have absolutely no desire to remember. “No, they cut me open and… and I can’t.”
Taryn stares at me with wide eyes. “I’d heard rumours.”
“Whatever rumours you’ve heard aren’t the worst. That place needs to be set on fire and the ground salted for a thousand years.”
“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“There was a reason you did, what was it?”
Taryn shakes her head. “Do you believe in fate or destiny or that things are spiraling out of your control? They were easier back then; I knew right from wrong. I didn’t…” she stops and stands up and paces to the door and back, swiping at tears.
“You didn’t?” I prompt.
“I didn’t know what I was going to lose when I gave it all up. I didn’t know I would feel this way.”
I’m confused, so I just watch her pace. She comes back and kneels in front of me, reaching out and taking my hand.
“I’m sorry.”
“You keep apologising, Taryn, but you have nothing to apologise for.”
“I fought, I ran. I tried so hard to avoid my fate.”
She’s rambling, but I can feel the fear in the air; her grief has a salty taste.
“But she will not be denied,” Taryn whispers, squeezing my fingers. “She won’t be denied, and I know now what the right thing to do is, but, oh, goddess help me. How do I leave them?”
“Taryn, I don’t understand,” I say gently.
She sits back, letting go of my hands, and swipes at her tears. “Ugh, never mind me. Do you know what I want more than anything?”
“No, what?”
“I’d like a friend. Can we be friends, Keres?”
She’s staring at me with a mix of hope and shame, and I can’t find it in me to deny her.
“We are friends, Taryn.”
She lets out a little squeal and throws herself at me, hugging me. I laugh until I realise she’s trembling. She holds tight, and we both pretend we don’t hear her sobs.
“I don’t know how you did it. I don’t know how you survived all the pain.”
“You just take one moment at a time and tell yourself there are people who are waiting for you.”
