We do our best to make camp on the muddy, rocky ground. The grass from before, which Iarin tells me is called Shadowgrass, and grows even without sunlight, has grown sparse now, the ground is no longer a prairie, it’s a bit more hilly. We’ve been following along the Guardian River, and I see what Iarin meant about it not being safe. The river is rushing and churning, any little strand of grass caught in it vanishes downstream within a second, and yet Sae says this is the calm season for rain, the closest days to Rainhalt, in early July.

Speaking of rain, it’s irritating the hell out of me. I pull the hood of my sweatshirt up to keep it off my face and hair. It doesn’t help, the hood just gets soaked. I suppose I shouldn’t have forgotten my raingear at the Riverside Base, but unlike Attaraya, who’s been ranting nonstop about the damp weather, I don’t complain.

But now Attaraya is silent, head down, trying to start us a fire that keeps going out at the center of the camp. Iarin, for once not reading, is at her side, looking concerned. Sae sits a distance away, hugging her knees close with her left arm, dark eyes staring at the horizon. Her borderline cheerfulness from yesterday seems to have pretty much deserted her, ever since our conversation.

We’re all hungry, besides. We decided that, in order to have enough food to get us to Samei-Kozca, we’ll have to skip lunch today. Or rather, Attaraya decided that, Sae agreed (reluctantly, because it was Attaraya’s idea), and Iarin and I went along with it. But despite it being her who came up with it, Attaraya seems to be affected most by her empty stomach. She’s grown steadily more morose and disagreeable all day.

“Hey, ‘Raya.” I say, sitting next to her, “You okay?”

Attaraya gives me a scandalized look. “How could I be okay?” she demands, “Here I am, in enemy territory, betraying my country, about to tell the crazy old Bleachead tyrant something we can’t prove and she’ll never believe.”

“I… hold on a second, this was you’re idea in the first place!”

“I know, but…”

“No. You sacrificed Koreth for this. I’m not going to let you go back on it now.”

“You know it, too though, right?” Attaraya says, glaring at the bunch of grass in her hands which, despite her valiant attempts, does not seem to want to burn. “The Hralhym won’t believe us.”

“She might believe Sae,” I say, “After all, she’s their spy, right? Even if she doesn’t have any information, they’ll be glad to see she’s back safe.” I give Attaraya a reassuring smile, even though I know Sae’s just about as far from safe as you can get.

Attaraya catches it, though. “I dunno whether to believe the little Bleachead or not.”

“About what?”

“Renketh.”

I hesitate, knowing I’ll have to tread carefully here. “…I don’t see why she should lie. The wounds have to come from somewhere.”

“I know! I know, okay? But I’m telling you, Renketh just wasn’t like that. She was the best friend I ever had. I always looked up to her, even after I passed her in rank. Ren was always my ideal. It took weeks just to realize she was dead. And now, with everyone telling me that she really did torture that kid, Bleachead or not... and even that the higher-ups approved of it. It’s sick.

“Since I was a kid, they always said what a great country Hanora was. How we were so strong, and good, and merciful, and how it was our job to rid the world of the Bleacheads, who were heathens and sinners and practiced witch magic. But we were still kind and merciful to them, always merciful. Because we were so damn good. That’s all they ever told us in school. How good Hanora is, how altruistic our leaders are, how we ruled our world with a firm but gentle hand. They always told us how we had such an honor, to be part of fighting for the good of such a wonderful country.”

I remember with a jolt how Koreth said, that the people of Naroth have by and large lost their ability to think independently due to Council-approved “education” procedures, and how that one Counciljerk shouted at him when he mentioned indoctrination in his threat. I think that, having met Attaraya, that makes a bit more sense. Then I bit my lip and turn my thoughts elsewhere, because remembering Koreth is still painful, even more than a week after losing him.

“I never once doubted them.” Attaraya says firmly. “And I never once doubted that Ren was a good person. I don’t... I can’t just... I can’t just accept it now. There has to be a reason for all this. There are reasons. I’m just not looking close enough. I just need to think it through. There’s a logical explanation… I mean, the Bleacheads… well, it’s like locusts, right?” I’ve got no idea what she means by that, and she doesn’t seem inclined to explain, though she smiles a little, as though looking back on a fond memory. “As for Ren...”

“T-times like these,” Iarin interrupts, “bring out the worst in people. Y-you shouldn’t worry so much.”

“It was Kagami’s fault anyway.” I tell her, “He began all this. That’s why we’re here, right? To force him to end it, too.”

“How do we plan to do that?” Attaraya mutters.

“Well, if both sides know the truth, they might be persuaded to stop...”

“It won’t happen.” Sae says suddenly. I turn to stare at her. “That won’t ever happen. Whatever good intentions you may have, Hanora and Sareil won’t just kiss and make up. I don’t know what the Hanorans think, but my people have suffered far too much to forget about Hanora’s crimes.”

Attaraya seems to suddenly snap out of her doubt and shift back into her former self. “Hanora’s crimes? Hah! Since the beginning, we’ve shown you nothing but mercy, and you’re ungrateful enough to speak of our crimes?”

“Mercy?” Sae says, her voice hollow. “Oh, yes, so much mercy.” She lifts aside a bit of her sleeve and traces a finger over one of the burn scars, shivering slightly. “I can barely move my arm from all the mercy raining down.”

Attaraya glares at her. “You got what you deserved!”

The rest of us fall silent, staring. She beams around at all of us, triumphant, then continues in a strident voice, “Oh, yes. I’ve wanted to tell her that for ages. You were an enemy spy, posing as an innocent so you could give our secrets away! We granted you a haven, and you betrayed us! So don’t you dare sit there and act like a victim, not bothering to consider the damage you could have done if information had gotten back to Sareil. Hundreds of people could have died, because of you!”

“Oh, thanks ever so much for sparing me the horror of knowing I killed a couple of Hanorans.” Sae snaps at her, voice dripping with sarcasm, “The fingernail extractor’s just a bit worse, unfortunately. Not a lot of sympathy here.”

“See? There you go again!” Attaraya shouts, “You’re a cruel, black-hearted murderer and the rest are just like you, don’t try to tell me they’re not! You lie and cheat and steal all for your own fortune, you’re a witch and a killer and a freak of nature, and you’re trying to take the moral high ground?”

Sae gets to her feet, walking over to Attaraya, “I’ve done what I’ve done, and I didn’t have any choice. I was trying to defend myself and protect my family. There wasn’t any other way--”

Attaraya rises as well, fists clenched at her sides, trembling with anger. “There was, too. You could have resisted the propaganda that tyrant fed you and joined the forces of good--”

Sae laughs a high, derisive, and altogether humorless laugh. “Oh, and that’s you, is it?”

“Well, actually, yes! But you’re a Bleachead through and through, you took the coward’s way--”

Okay. Now Attaraya is starting to get on my nerves.

Maybe Sae’s dragged us off on a lengthy path to Samei-Kozca for no one’s benefit but her own. Maybe she’s yet another obstacle to being able to help Koreth (not that I expected Miss-Poster-Child-for-the-Overly Patriotic to do much for him). But she’s still human. She’s a person. She’s a kid. A kid who deserves some sympathy, or at least to be treated like a human being for once in her life.

“Attaraya, shut up!”

“Em...? Oh, not you, too. Why shout at me? The Bleachead is the one who needs to cut it out, I can’t think straight with all her whining--”

"I heard you the first time, okay? Drop it.”

“You’ve got no idea what you’re--”

“P-perhaps it’s best,” Iarin says quietly, “I-if the two of you leave each other alone for a while.”

Attaraya looks from her to me to Sae, and seems to finally lose control. “What. The. Hell? You all think you can order me around? I can’t believe you’re siding with that… that…” she waves her hands at us for a bit, apparently at loss for words. “My God, I hate you people!”

She turns and stomps away from us, toward the hills beyond.

“Well, that’s the last we’ll see of her,” Sae says. “Even if by some miracle she finds any food to keep her alive on the long walk back, she’s bound to run into travelers or patrols, and if not that, she’ll drown trying to cross the Guardian.”

Attaraya, not ten feet away, lets out a loud, shrill cry of frustration. She stamps back to the camp and seats herself on a rock not far away, glaring at the ground as though the rain-soaked mud has done her a great personal wrong.

That’s where she remains long after the rest of us have eaten a meager dinner and gone to bed, just staring at the handfuls of Shadowgrass uprooted and tossed on the ground, some of them a little burnt: the only result of her sorry attempts at building a fire.

* * * * *

The next evening, Samei-Kozca swims into view on the horizon.

From its description as a big trade town, I’d expect noise to come from the distant city, or some smoke rising from the distant chimneys, but instead, I don’t see any chimneys at all. As we approach, I see that the city is surrounded by a high wall, like that of Chiren.

But a whole side of this high wall is crumbled away.

I glance at Sae, alarmed. She doesn’t seem to have reacted to seeing her home’s walls lying in shambles. She stares straight ahead, her expression blank.

Suddenly, she says, “Hoods up.”

Attaraya pulls the hood over her head with a sniff of annoyance.

“Er... I’m sorry, I lost mine...” I stammer. Without a word, Sae unlaces her cloak and throws it to me. She doesn’t act as though she’s bothered much by the rain, but I can see her flinch whenever a cold raindrop strikes her damaged arm.

* * * * *

Inside the city, it becomes apparent why Sae wasn’t worried about the fallen wall.

Everything in Samei-Kozca is destroyed. The buildings, the roofs, the once-neatly laid street cobbles. Crumbled bricks lay strewn across the roads, along with rotting wood from carts overturned and abandoned in a hurry, broken glass scattered at dangerous intervals. Groups of people, mostly children, small and pale like Sae, run across the roads, keeping eyes out for something, whatever it is they fear. It’s late, I can tell by the color of the clouds above us, no longer highlighted by the bright sun behind them. People are heading home, into unstable lean-tos and unsafe-looking structures built from the leftover stones. They don’t seem bothered by the falling rain either.

“Welcome to Samei-Kozca.” Sae says, her child’s voice trembling under the weight of sarcasm and suppressed rage, “Once the greatest trade city in Sareil, now the recipient of all sorts of Hanoran mercy.”

Attaraya, for once, is silent.

Sae pauses to tap one of the homeward-bound kids on the shoulder. The kid, even younger than she is, whirls around, a knife in his pale hand. Sae raises her left palm and says, “Ser. Chimre. Haza eta hensia yukin.” Iarin hisses a translation in my ear: ”No. Wait. I just want to talk.”

The kid lowers the knife, just a little bit. Sae smiles and pulls a bit of bread from Attaraya’s pack. Attaraya makes a little squawk of protest at this, and I step on her foot to shut her up.

He reaches out for the bread, but Sae lifts it out of his reach. She continues in Sareilian, “I’m looking for someone. Can you tell me where to find Haren and Kaimi Noridsemi?”

The boy points to one of the crumbled stone houses across the way. Sae nods and tosses the bread to him.

“Hensia.” she mutters. The kid runs off without responding.

Because I’m wary of remaining in an unknown city alone, I follow after her, and the others come with me.

As Sae steps into the alcove where the haphazard house is built, I see her eyes light up, and a smile stretch across her face as she sees a small girl, about eight years old, look up from the doorway. For the first time since I’ve met her, Sae actually looks like a ten-year-old, her grim face bright and her sunken eyes shining.

“Kaimi...?” she says, uncertainly.

The girl looks up at her, apparently confused. “Who are you?” she asks in Sareilian.

“It’s me. Sae?”

The girl’s eyes widen and she runs into the house.

“Haren! Haren! She’s here! She’s here!”

“What are you talking about?” The girl answering her has a harsh, sharp voice, the kind of voice that’s angry simply by habit. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“Sae’s here! In front of the house!”

“Sae’s dead.”

“Nuh-uh! She’s here! In front of the house! She’s different, but it’s Sae! I promise!”

Sae’s expression dims before my eyes, no doubt startled and dismayed by the tone of Haren’s voice. Probably by the content of her words, as well. I don’t imagine she thought these people would have already given up on her… or that they wouldn’t recognize her when she arrived. But things will be fine, I reassure myself. This Haren will surely be happy when she sees that her sister has returned…

So why do I feel so uneasy?

The sound of footsteps echoes across the way as Haren steps toward the makeshift door. “Fine. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll show you myself there’s no one there. If anybody, it’s Mrinse, come for her quota... I haven’t got it, she’ll have to make do with what the others have–“

Haren Noridsemi steps over the threshold of her ramshackle home, lifts her eyes, and freezes.

With just a glance, I can tell she’s Sae’s sister. She has the same shaggy hair that falls across her face, the same close-set eyes and pointed chin. She also has the same expression Sae always uses when speaking to Attaraya, one of thin lipped, narrow-eyed disgust.

“Haren.” says Sae, her voice oddly choked, but happy, too, a note of hope and calm I’d never heard there before.

Haren steps from the threshold and strides over to us at a brisk pace. Sae extends her good arm to embrace her… then draws back, hesitant, at the look in her eye.

Haren raises a hand and slaps her older sister across the mouth.

Sae recoils with the force of the blow, tumbling on to the rain-soaked cobbles, looking up, gaping, stunned.

“You came back.” Haren says simply. “After everything you’ve done, all you’ve put us through, you had the nerve to come back?”

“Haren... what...?”

“You know what I’m talking about! Don’t pretend you don’t get it! After Ara died protecting you, after you swore to defend us... what the hell was that all about? Look at what you’ve done!” Haren gestures wildly at the small broken hovel behind her.

“But the Hralhym said... she’d provide for your safety in exchange for my work...”

Haren gives her a look of pure disgust. “The Hralhym is not in the habit of paying those who betray her country.”

Sae stumbles back to her feet. “...What? I never...”

“Oh, yeah? You let the Hanorans capture you, and you told them all of Sareil’s secrets! That sounds a hell of a lot like treason to me!”

“But I...”

Haren gives a harsh laugh. “How stupid do you think I am? Think I’ll believe you, traitor? ‘Oh, I didn’t do it, I’m innocent! Please listen to me!’” she mocks in a horrible high voice, “Give me a break. First you cause Ara’s death, then you abandon us, now you throw your country to the Hanorans, and after all that, you want forgiveness? Lie all you want. I’m not stupid enough to listen.”

“But.. I didn’t.” Sae stammers out. “I-I was captured... but I swear, I never said a word! The Hanorans never learned anything from me, I’d never...” Sae lifts the sleeve from her arm, “ever, betray Sareil. You’re here, and I couldn’t let them find a way to hurt you. I didn’t give up anything!”

“You’re a liar. Those scars just prove it. Against that, of course you gave in. For your own sake, you gave Sareil away on a silver platter. The Hralhym has officially declared you a traitor.” Haren’s every word is dripping with pure hatred, she looks as though she’s barely restraining herself from striking her sister again. I want to speak up and defend Sae, but I don’t speak any Sareilian, and I’m already afraid Haren will catch Iarin’s running translation in my ear—

“You’d better get out of here before I call on someone. Everyone in Sareil thinks you’re dead, that you had the good sense to kill yourself after betraying us. If they knew you were walking through this city, they’d all fall upon you and kill you. As I am tempted to do.”

Sae stares back at her sister, mute. With a toss of her pale hair, Haren takes her little sister’s hand and pulls her into the house.

“Sae...” I say slowly, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

Sae shrugs my hand aside. Wrapping her thin left arm around herself, she walks slowly away from us, small head bowed against the rain.

--------------------

Who says I don't update on time?

Oh. Right. The laws of temporal reality. Sorry guys. XD I'm trying my best, but you know how the end of the year is. Anyway, I've got more time now that the APs are over, at least.

Anyhow, this is one of my favorite chapters, actually. Especially the conversation between Sae and Attaraya in the first part of this half. Actually, I don't like the second part near as much, Haren's dialogue always seemed... awfully stiff and formal to me. Eh... I dunno.

Anyway, feel free to rip it apart-- with this chapter, we're pretty much at the halfway point!