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Sahar

Realizing that I’d already said too much, I turned away and leaned back against the wall, then fished in my sash until I found the small tube of kohl I usually carried with me. I hesitated, realizing I didn’t have a mirror.

I grinned, realizing I had something just as shiny. I lifted the edge of my skirt and pulled out the knife I wore strapped to the outside of my knee. It was one of my widest ones, and polished to a fine sheen.

I held it up in front of my face and smiled, satisfied that I could see my face quite clearly in the flat. I sat down and lined my eyes, silently regretting the poor light, careful not to stab myself in the eye. It wasn’t as even as I would have liked, but it still looked pretty fantastic, if I did say so myself.

I stored the improvised mirror and noticed the other newcomer standing by himself, looking grim and intimidating.

I wasn’t intimidated. Alright, a little bit.

I slowly got up and started toward him, my anklets, bracelets and earrings tinkling an accompaniment.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Sahar.” I smiled.

“Thanks for helping me with Yila, I certainly would have fallen on my face if it wasn’t for your help,” I said.

I heard the thud of a rock falling.

“Sorry, that was an accident!”

I couldn’t help laughing as I heard Acyn’s hurried apology. If he’d thrown a rock in someone’s face, we would have some trouble.

“That’s why I’m never letting you touch one of my knives,” I called, merrily.

He didn’t reply. Apparently, he wasn’t amused.