Hehissed.She had started rubbing the cloth through the outer edges of the burn,digging out the sand and grit.
“Gonnahurt,” she said.
Henodded, gripping her one leather pauldron.She kneaded his scabbing flesh.Hebarely had enough strength to groan.
“Hestarted all this,” Zaria said.“All your wizards, all of them Orchids orwhatever they’re called, they all conspired against each other, all formingthese clashing deals of offerin’ you up and strikingyou down, just by reacting to whathedone toyou.”
Isaacstared up at the rocky ceiling of the cavern.He wasn’t sure what was worse—thescreaming pain in his leg, or the breathless feeling in his lungs.
“Canyou honestly tell me he’s changed for the better?You certain, beyond doubt,that he’s not got some trap in there, waiting for you?”
“Whywould he?”Isaac asked.
“Whywouldn’t he?”
Therewas a single rusted door leading into the building.He saw only darknessthrough the holes.Around the sides, the glass windows were thick with dust.Itwas impossible to see what was inside.
“What’sto say,” Zaria said, “he hasn’t been actin’ nice just to make you drop yourguard?Would you really put it past him?After all this?”She retrieved morebandaging.After gently bending his knee, she began to wrap the white fabricaround his thigh.“Fuck the treasure.Was always a long shot, for me, andthere’s no way we’re pinching more than some handfuls.”
She cutthe bandage with a gnash of her teeth and tied it with a knot.She stood up,offered a hand, and lifted him with ease.The effort of standing left himbreathless again.
“Let’sgo.It’s the least bit of justice to leave him here, I think.”
Hewatched the rusted door.He hadn’t heard a sound, nor seen the slightestmovement.There was not a single sign of life.
Hestepped forward, and Zaria blocked his path, holding out a hand.
“Isaac.You’re not thinking of ...giving him your body, are you?”
“No.”
“It’sthe only way he’s gettin’ out of here.”
“I’mwell aware of that.”
“Thenwhat are you hoping for, exactly?”
Helooked back.In the distance, he could see the scattered bones of the colossus,the ruins of the necropolis, an orgy of spilled rocks, a low, reddening sun.Asea of ossein grew into hills and mounds, like sheets of whitened mold.
“I justwant to hear his voice,” Isaac said.“I want to know him, as a person.Something outside of a story.”He took as deep a breath as he could.“I want tosay goodbye.”
Hetried stepping around Zaria, and she blocked his path again.Most of herleather plackart was in tatters, the belts on her vambraces had snapped, andthe cloth winding over her hands was as filthy gray as the concrete beneathher.Sections of fur had burned from the touch of necrotic magic.
“Youdon’t want that,” she said.“Trust me.”
Helooked up at her.
“I wishmy father hadn’t tried to save me,” Zaria said.“When I was in the crates, beingloaded up, I had no idea what he’d done.Just thought it was wrong place, wrongtime.Could’ve gone my whole life thinking that way.Still holding him dear inmy heart, thinking he’d be out there and I’d find himsome day.”
Shepaused, looking at him.
“But hedid show up, and, even then, I wish he’d been mean.I wish he’d spat in myface, told me he was glad for the coin of my sale.I could’ve hated him, then.Could’ve cursed his name and not thought twice.Even then, that’d have beennicer.”
Her eyedrifted to the floor.Her bare, digitigrade feet shuffled over cement.
“But hetried to save me, and he was crying his eyes out, and it was plain to see itwas the worst thing he’d ever done, and he was tryin’ so hard to take it back,and, in the end, he couldn’t.And because it’s that way, it weren’t simple.Thememory cuts like a knife, and there’s no way to settle it.Not anymore.”
Isaacstared at the building.It was small, plain, and ugly.It could have been astorage room, a substation, a relay for the conduction of souls.He had no ideaof the truth.
