When I return to town, the meeting hall is packed. Nomi is with the town representatives at the front, their body language urgent while the rest of the room is in an uproar.
Apparently Nomi didn’t wait to reveal the news.
Catching snatches of conversation, it sounds like some of Mujin’s sabotage has already borne fruit, too, with appliances needed for things like cooking no longer functioning. That’s making people both desperate and afraid of acting, which is, of course, what he would have wanted.
Standing on my tiptoes, though, I can make out one person at the front that I don’t recognize, and I assume that must be Jiran.
He must have been on the island already last night.
Unlike most Kameyans, he wears a beard—a closely-groomed one that nevertheless gives his face the look of someone who isn’t to be messed with. He’s lean and muscular and moves with the grace of someone who knows how to handle himself in a fight.
Which might be good or bad, because thisisnow a fight.
Jiran’s gaze glances to the side as Zan steps away from the wall at my entrance. Observant, too.
I meet Zan’s eyes, his face an impassive mask, and he shakes his head minutely. No sign of Teren on the island then. Damn it.
Not a surprise—we didn’t think he would be, but we had to rule it out.
Zan relaxes minutely at my return to his side, then tenses again. Like it’s equally difficult to have me close and far right now.
Away from me, he can ignore our bond more easily, maybe.
But I don’t want him to.
But I don’t want my presence to pain him either.
I fuckinghatethis.
Nomi notices my arrival too and pulls away from her discussion with Romasa in disgust. “All right, let’s get started,” she yells to quiet the room. “By now you all know that Teren has been kidnapped by the Order—”
“Do we?” Waten interrupts.
Most people are standing, with the elderly or people with injuries seated. Waten has taken a chair for himself, too.
Doesn’t necessarily mean anything; Sunani has one too. Plenty of invisible reasons a person might need one that are none of my business.
But since I already know Waten is an entitled asshole, I have suspicions.
“You don’t know that the priests took him,” Waten says. “He might have just run off in order to pressure us, and he’ll show up safe and sound in a few days.”
“We do know, since I was there,” Nomi growls. “The Order accosted me in my own home.”
“Which we have only your word for,” Waten points out. “Just like we don’t know thatyouaren’t responsible for sabotaging our houses, since you’re the person who knows the most about them!”
Iwould be up in arms about an accusation like that, but Nomi just rolls her eyes. “Which I would have done when, exactly, without you knowing? And how? I can’t just trigger your stoves to stop working, Waten. That’s not how anything works.”
“Andweren’t you the one who said they’d kill you? I see you’re here safe.” Waten huffs. “I’m sure it’s all very sad for you that the boy is gone, but you are blowing this way out of proportion.”
Haben steps forward with a dark glare. “Are you really sitting here saying that it's anoverreactionto objecting to being attacked in your own home?”
“Ifit even happened, we all know why,” Waten says.
This time, Romasa yanks Nomi by the arm to restrain her before she’s even moved a step.
I’m beginning to think their argument at the beginning was over Nomi’s ability to run this meeting right now without punching anyone.
Waten sees this and hurries on, “What I’msayingis that you are jumping to conclusions that serve your own interests at the expense of the rest of us. The kid is gone, we don’t have a conflict with the priests anymore and there’s no reason to start one.Andwe need their help now. End of story. I know the boy was useful for providing blankets—”
