“Had it coming.” Vabihn shrugged, and Mezhimar nodded next to him, although his face looked a bit pale.
Iryana forced herself to nod. “I understand, Sena.”
The pressure was palpable and she felt one touch away from unraveling. She couldn’t keep doing this. She needed to find some way to breathe, to reclaim a bit of peace and freedom in her life, or she wasn’t going to make it long.
Vaneshta took another long swig of her drink, cheeks flushed, and Iryana watched her carefully. An idea occurring to her. Her roommate was nothing if not predictable. She was always drunk when she came back, falling into a deep enough sleep that Iryana doubted she could wake her from if she tried. And she slept well into the morning.
Vaneshta wouldn’t notice if Iryana slipped out after she fell asleep. Wouldn’t think it strange if she wasn’t in their room when Vaneshta woke. She’d just have to figure out how to get past the guards.
Chapter Twelve
The chilly air bit through her cloak, and her breath steamed in the quiet as Iryana made her way up the tower and to the wall walk.
It was early, even for her. It would be hours before the sky began to lighten, most of the soldiers passed out or on duty. Vaneshta was snoring loudly back in their room, sprawled over her bed.
Walking slowly and deliberately past the soldiers on guard, Iryana mumbled her good mornings and other casual things she’d heard the soldiers say to one another. Their eyes tracked her with surprise and confusion.
She’d asked if she was allowed to leave the post, and while initiates were usually not allowed for safety reasons, she’d been given a tentative pass since she went on missions beyond the wall. She just had to stay nearby, in the heavily-patrolled areas.
“Morning, Sen,” she said to the next man she passed.
“Can’t sleep?” an older, blond soldier with short-cropped hair asked, leaning against part of the wall.
Iryana forced a slight smile. “Oh, no. I already slept. I like to rise early.” It was almost the truth. She had gotten a bit of sleep in before Vaneshta stumbled back to their room.
“Hard to break that guardian training,” he teased, though his voice wasn’t entirely unkind.
He was probably bored out of his mind watching from the walls all night; any diversion, even a brief chat with the outcast guardian initiate might be welcome.
“Gives me a chance to help out.” Iryana held up the fishing pole she carried. “Figured it would look good if I brought the kitchen some extra fish.”
“What an ass kisser.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, a bit. Plus I like a morning run through the trees.”
He laughed. “The dakii tend to be quiet this time of morning, so it’s a good time to go.”
“Exactly. Well, wish me luck with my ass kissing,” she said awkwardly, adjusting her fishing pole.
He chuckled, but nodded and turned back to the abandoned city beyond the wall.
She breathed a sigh of relief and started walking again. Everything in the fort looked so small from up there.
She made it all the way across the wall, greeting all the soldiers or having short conversations like she had with the older, blond soldier. Making sure they all saw her and knew her excuse for leaving. She would fish along the Myura River and, just like she claimed, bring back some fish. She’d bring something back every morning.
Eventually, once they were used to her moving around in the early hours, she could try sneaking out as soon as Vaneshta came back to the room, let them think she’d left at the usual time but didn’t see her, then have most of the night to meet her sister when needed. It would give her the space to breathe outside the fort, time to regain some of her sanity.
After crossing the rope bridge, Iryana paused on the wooden platform, looking back toward the fort.
Fitting in with the soldiers of the 18th was supposed to involve earning their respect by taking on the dakii and doing her assigned tasks. Simple, straightforward,and, while difficult, doable. Yet it felt like she was constantly undoing her progress by being unable to make anyone like her.
And gods was it suffocating.
Her feelings about her family were complicated, love and fear and shame and resentment all bundled together in a knot of unease deep in her gut. But the 18th? Her feelings were simple. They were thugs that took advantage of people, her people. So why wasn’t pretending around them easier?
Iryana had never thought herself an emotional person; she was practical. Able to put what she wanted deep in the cellar of her mind and focus on the task at hand. And her memories didn’t haunt her around the fort like they did at the Dovaki Post.
Running her hand over some pine needles, the hint of sap sticking to her hand, Iryana took a deep breath. She knew she needed to be getting closer to the soldiers on her team, but it felt harder every day. It was a lot easier pushing people away than trying to pull them close.
