How is this, Menon?, she thought, her nails digging into her palms.She heard a man sobbing over his home, his family; heard an agonised cry, the deep cracking of a reset bone.Your sleep is their pain.Your idleness is their death.Do you not care?
The crowds had thinned out on this side of the atrium, most of them pressed near the entrance where the bulk of the healers gathered.The tears came here, making Ione angrier; she wiped them roughly away and threw her arms back down.
If you don’t care, then why were you reborn?
Why did you choose me?
A pained gasp hauled her back to the present.Ione froze: most of the people on this side of the atrium had been seen to already.She heard it again, and murmuring, low and soothing; Ione fished in her pocket for the monocular she always brought with her outside.She lifted it to one eye and adjusted the dials, scanning.
There – two figures, crouched in the shade of a peach tree.One propped up against the trunk, her leg wrapped and face bone-white.The second, a woman with dark blonde curls, dabbed her friend’s forehead and whispered to her.
“There you are.”River clamped a hand over her shoulder, his unimpressed expression saying,You’re coming with me.“I hope you – ”
“River, if you’re about to ask if I got that out of my system, I will scream.”Ione pocketed the monocular.“That woman is hurt,” she said, stalking towards them.“Fetch Mikau.”
He sighed, following.“Mikau’s alittlepreoccupied.”
Cynthia hurried alongside them.“They’ll get to her.Soon.”
Ione pivoted, issuing them both an icy look – and whatever little power she had was enough to silence them.“Cynthia,” she said, knowing she’d be the first to give in.
She was right.“I’ll tell them,” Cynthia said hastily, shooting back towards the atrium’s entrance.
Ione dared River to complain – and when he didn’t, she lifted her chin and continued on towards the pair ofCaelosi.
“Keep breathing, Ami,” the blonde woman said as Ione neared.She smoothed Ami’s copper hair back, shushed her when she weakly protested.“I know.Just – stop moving it, for gods’ sakes.”She stilled when she saw Ione and River.“Hello,” she murmured, cautious, seeming to take in Ione’s tailored clothes, her personal guard.“We’re sorry to have disturbed your walk, Lady.”
Ione bristled.“Not at all,” she said, tempering her tone.Even strangers presumed she was only here to waste time.“A healer is coming.Is she all right?”
“Stable,” the other woman, Ami, said.She jerked her chin, indicating her injured leg, stretched out and wrapped in bloodstained gauze.“A healer looked at it before we left Caelos.The pain stuff’s just worn off.”
The blonde woman nudged her, reproachful.“Not that we’re refusing another, less-rushed healer.”
“Oh, gods, no.Bring ’em in.”
Ione knelt – a rarity for her – and summoned a wisp of cool water for Ami to drink.Not without a moment’s hesitation, Ami nodded her thanks and drank.
Ione felt their eyes on her again, River’s, disapproving; the blonde woman, curious but guarded.She focused on keeping the water steady, knowing how foolish this was, how misplaced.
“Lady Ione?”Mikau screeched to a stop beside her and cocked an eyebrow at Ami.“Ah,” they said to Ione, somewhat chagrined, “Cynthia made it sound like you were suddenly and direly ill.”
“Yes, I’m like a houseplant in that way.”
They waved Ione and the other woman away from Ami and knelt, inspecting Ami’s leg.Ione heard a sharp intake of breath, a muttered,Shoddy work.
“Your bedside manner’s great,” Ami deadpanned.
There.One person she’d helped, among a sea of others who had died while Ione cursed the indolent god within her.
She hadn’t realised at first that she had trailed after the other woman, ostensibly to give Ami more space.“We’d been waiting for hours,” the woman said, tugging at her long sleeves.“I’m sorry if I sounded standoffish.We’re… well, ‘exhausted’ doesn’t cover it.”
Out of the shade of the peach tree, Ione could read her features better.Beneath the smudge of ash, her skin was sun-kissed; her curls, once clean, would perhaps be the colour of honey.She tilted her face to the sunlight, looking momentarily content.Peaceful.
Her eyes, catching in the light when she regarded Ione, were warm and intelligent, a deep caramel brown.“What can I call you, Lady…?”
Ione swallowed, terribly aware of River and Cynthia hovering nearby.“Ione,” she said without thinking.“Just Ione.”
She tilted her head, questioning, hands clasped before her.There was a birdlike quality to her, curious and alert.“Then Ione,” she said, kneeling.“Thank you for helping us.”
