Page 150 of Tempting Fate

Airida

IMANI’S WOUNDS REQUIRED attention, but there was no time. She was dry, clothed, and warming up; it would have to be enough.

I sent a quick comm to Reskavi with our location, and yet again attempted a call to Rokharu, the Orithian ambassador. Instead of the familiar blue failure light, this time, my device lit up with beautiful streaks of purple chasing around the screen’s perimeter. Please connect. Please connect.

“Good afternoon?”

Thank all the gods.

Lord Rokharu fei Sinla was older than I remembered, easily two decades on me, his ridges craggy, headspines fading to lilac, with smart tailoring too reminiscent of my father. I pushed down mild nausea. Seeing his face reminded me of that day. The things I’d heard, the way I’d been taken. The awful revelations about my parents.

“Lord Rokharu,” I said in my best Orithian accent. Had I been back on Orith, I might have been awed to speak to an important politician, but not now. “It is a pleasure to see you.”

“Do I know you?” His lips pursed. “I recognise you, but I beg your forgiveness, I do not recall your name.”

“It may not be safe for me to mention my name, my Lord, but you helped my sister and I leave our home not two months ago.”

He stroked his impressive tusks, each inlaid with a column of gems in varying shades of purple. “Ah, I do know you. To what do I owe this comm?”

“I know how you can find proof my mother took out the bounty contract.”

His expression didn’t change. “I see.”

“My parents’ steward, Kimivha. If Mother used anyone to contact a proxy to access an off-world bounty, it would be him. Kimivha knows everything. Please will you speak with him?”

“And why will he speak to me?”

I would do it myself if I could. “Tell him I miss him. That I should like to sit with him under the hypra blooms and hear tales of his wild youth. And that there is some keppli ale hidden under the floorboards in my old bedroom.” Whenever he’d been able to acquire the contraband, he’d always share a few bottles with me. Being unused to intoxicants, the half crates always lasted me much longer than him.

Rokharu turned to someone off-screen. “What do you think, Nyxari?”

He held his comm further away, revealing his companion, a much younger female wearing modern Orkri’ian fashion, a jarring contrast to Rokharu’s formalwear.

“All the Guild needs is definitive proof,” she said. “If you can speak to this Kimivha, and if he can help, this could work.”

Hope surged into my chest even as I tried to be rational. “We are hunted as we speak, so time is of the essence. Please.”

Rokharu gave a sharp tilt of his head. “Acknowledged. I will try, but I cannot promise anything.”

“Thank you.” All we could do was try.

“It is good to see you well, if somewhat dishevelled. Let me speak to this Kimivha, and I will be in touch. Be safe.”

The comm went dark.

Imani placed a gentle hand on my arm. “So what now?”

I checked the map. No life signs. “We could continue. If there is an exit ahead, we should be out in a matter of hours, but...” We were neither of us in any state to go anywhere.

“I’d rather wait till we’ve heard from Kira and Reskavi. It might be best if we settle down here for another day,” Imani said, voice flat. “But I just want to go home.”

Home. Since we’d been in the caves, my kalidi had bothered me less and less. When we got back, I’d have no more need of the old hut and could stay in Imani’s room, and once the new dwellings were built, we could move into our own home, somewhere less central, more quiet. I imagined waking up there, Imani by my side. We’d have a garden. Space to paint and draw. The most plush nest, filled with fine cushions and blankets, where we could spend hours in each other’s arms. But not yet. “We need to give long enough for Rokharu to come through, so we should sleep another night here.” Kimivha had to come to our aid. He had to. “Now, let me see to your wounds, my moonlight.”

After tending to our injuries, we forged on, putting distance between us and the deathly cave. We took a break at a small hot spring, barely large enough for the both of us, but the heat and opportunity for cleansing were welcome. Then onwards again, exhaustion nagging at our heels.

At the first suitable place, a small mossy alcove, we settled down, curled in each other’s arms, and slept.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT