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Qatar

Niarok was standing in front of him, holding a bundle of dry clothes. He looked at them for a minute, wishing he didn’t have to take them. He reached out and his hands closed on the coarse cloth. His fingers felt warmer, just touching it.

He strode past Niarok into the shadows and pulled the tunic over his head. It felt strange, compared to his shirt and suspenders, and it must have looked as strange as it felt. But it was warm. He wrapped the blanket around  his shoulders. It dangled around his ankles, and he smiled a little ruefully. I look like someone from Parchade. Maybe what this is what they wear in Kjerte.

He walked back to the fire, the blanket swaying. It was a stupid thing to do, go off looking for that sound without telling anyone.

He looked over at Quin, sitting next to Leytera. But it was a worse idea for him to follow me. If he wouldn’t keep sticking his foot in it, maybe he’d still have a left one.

Quin looked up, and their eyes met for an instant. Qatar looked away.

Just then a man came staggering out of the shadows, his leg bleeding.

Quin leaped up, swaying on his one leg and clutching at the girl next to him. His eyes were wide and scared, and he stared at the man’s leg in horror.

Oh, just forget it, little brother!

The girl eased Quin back into a sitting position, and Qatar sighed. good for you little girl. I can’t always be there to knock sense into him.

Niarok, and then the taciturn man with his hand in his pocket went over to the injured man. They didn’t look like they needed any help, so Qatar wrapped the blanket closer around his shoulders.

Time ticked by slowly, and Qatar wondered what was going on at home. It was still summer there, or early fall. He looked around at the stern, dark walls that rose around him. How did I get here?

It became slowly warmer, and eventually Qatar let the blanket fall from his shoulders. this tunic really does look ridiculous.

The floor began to tremble, ever so slightly, and a hum seemed to be in the air. Qatar looked around. What now?

The voice started again. Great. We’ll all love what he has to say.

“I’ve been thinking about the next challenge, and it occurred to me that several of you are particularly well suited to it. Our resident assassins.”

Is that all?

“Lorcan–”

Check.

“Niarok–”

They walk the same, so that makes sense.

“And Siya Aydin.”

Qatar raised an eyebrow. He looks more like a scared rabbit. Maybe he was in charge of the slow poison department.

Everyone looked toward them. Niarok and Aydin were standing together almost behind Qatar, and, almost unconsciously, it seemed, Locran began to drift away from the group, toward them.

Yila sprang, cat-like away from the group, and made for Aydin. every line in her body spelled death, down to the curve of her shoulders. Her hand was on a knife. Niarok stepped in front of her, and a knife sailed from her hand, narrowly missing Aydin’s head.

Qatar’s eyebrows raised even higher.

They struggled for a moment, before she darted off into the shadows of the cave. Niarok looked up. He looked years older, and dead tired.

Their eyes met, and Niarok’s said, So. Now you know.

A stab, almost of pain, shot through Qatar’s mind. Ten short months ago, he and Quin could have stood a room apart and spoken to each other, just like this.

What, are you expecting me to be shocked? None of you plan on killing the rest of us, or you would have by now, and we can’t get away from you, even if we were desperate to. You walk like Locran, anyway.

The man with the injured leg limped toward Niarok, his sword drawn and glowing.

behind you.

Niarok turned to face the man, and Qatar’s eyes drifted to Quin, but he was looking at Niarok, instead. Ten months, little brother. 

he muttered, “Normal hasn’t been gone that long, and it already seems like an eternity since Mama died.”

Since Quin died.