Soldier or a Knight. She could fight. The thought hovered in her mind for a long second. Vi opened her mouth before closing it again slowly. Would she fight against her grandfather?
On one side of this war was her grandmother, on the other her grandfather. Her heritage versus her Empire. Though it wasn’t evenherEmpire anymore. Vi let out a groan and held her head.
“What’s wrong with you?”
The door at Vi’s right opened suddenly, the young woman from earlier in its frame. “She’s with us—I mean, she’s not. But we’ll take her in.”
“What?” Vi wasn’t sure if she said the word in her surprise or just thought it loudly.
“Come on, inside with you.” The woman grabbed her arm, helping Vi up.
“See to it that none of you are caught out past curfew,” the Knight cautioned with a pointed look at Vi before starting along.
“We’ll follow orders,” the young woman called back. Without another word, Vi was ushered inside a tiny foyer connected to a narrow stair. There were no other doors and the top landing was dark enough that Vi couldn’t make out much. The woman locked the door and leaned against it with a sigh.
“Thank you,” Vi said softly.
“Don’t thank me, thank Granny. She was the one who said I couldn’t leave another woman out there to fend for herself.” She looked Vi up and down and added with a mutter, “Though you seem perfectly capable.”
“I still appreciate it.” Vi didn’t comment on her capacity to defend herself.
“Well, show that appreciation by not making us regret it.” The young woman ran a hand through her short-cut hair. “The name is Lucina, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucina.”
“Do you remember your name? Or is that gone too?”
“It’s gone too.” Vi didn’t know what compelled her to hide her name. No one knew of Vi Solaris in this world. Her name, however unconventional it was, would mean nothing.
Yet that was precisely the reason why she didn’t want to share it. Her name was precious—the only thing that was truly hers that she still carried. Even the watch around her neck was different than the one she had received from Fritz. Her mother’s watch had been destroyed, the replacement from Taavin now hanging in its place.
Call out to me. Some of his final words thrummed across her thoughts like fingers dancing on the strings of a harp.When you are settled, call out to me.
“Well, I’ll need some sort of name. Can’t just say, ‘Hey, no-name girl,’ whenever I need you.”
“How about Yullia?”
“Yullia it is.” Lucina ascended the stairs. “Granny is sleeping, so don’t wake her.” Her voice had fallen to a hush. “Granny sleeps in the living area on the first floor. I have a room on the second floor. You can take dad’s old room.”
Before Vi could inquire further, Lucina pressed a finger to her lips as they emerged onto a landing area that was utilized as a living space. There was a kitchen, a sitting area with distinctly low-profile, Western furniture, and a cot in the corner where an ancient woman snored. Lucina headed up a ladder in the corner to the floor above. Vi followed as silently as possible.
“You’ll be in here.” Lucina opened the door immediately to the right at the top of the ladder.
“Your father won’t need it?”
“Dad’s dead.”
“I’m sorry,” Vi said. But her tenderness seemed to confuse the young woman. “Did… I say something wrong?”
“Half of this city is dying or dead. It’s weird to hear sympathies and I don’t want them.” Lucina shrugged and hastily changed the topic. “Remember, we don’t have anything for you. All you’re getting is a bed. If I even catch you looking at our food—” She drew a kitchen knife from her belt “—I won’t hesitate to kill. No one would notice or care about another body.”
Vi lifted a hand, placed her fingers against the flat of the blade, and pushed it away. “I’m not going to give you reason to fear me,” she said firmly, locking eyes with Lucina. “I mean you no harm.”
“Well…” Lucina hadn’t been expecting Vi to take the threat in stride. She tucked the weapon back in her belt. “See that you don’t.”
The young woman started for the ladder and descended quickly. Vi made a point to close her door loudly enough that Lucina would hear it—but hopefully not too loudly that it disturbed the sleeping old woman whom she had to thank for this hospitality.
The room was small. A bed, a chest at its foot. A narrow window, barely large enough to let light in, faced the blank wall of another building.
