Chapters (40)

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Dedication
Credits

I turned and found him collapsed against the wall of a shop. He leaned his full weight against it, his cheek pressed to the rough adobe bricks. His eyes were pinched closed. Blood oozed from a ragged hole in his left ear where his earring had once been. His neck bore dark purple bruises, unmistakably the shape of large hands. He cradled the swollen, bruised fingers of his left hand with his right, but his right hand was in bad shape, too. It bore the shiny, blistered burns of the torch. I sucked in a lungful of air. I had no idea what to do or what to say. “I think my hand’s broke,” he said. “Something’s wrong with my knee. Got to go slower than that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he said. He peeled himself off the wall slowly, one bone at a time. “Just got to go slow.”

I did most of the walking for both of us from there on out. I held him up, half-carried him the two miles back to Dirva’s house. Dirva and Nisa were home. Sorcha’s condition was met with wariness and concern. Dirva pulled him into a silent hug; Sorcha burst into tears. Nisa asked me what had happened under her breath, but I had no answers. Dirva gave me money to bring the healer and helped Sorcha up the stairs to the attic.

Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

Sorcha delivered Nisa’s baby about a week after I bailed him out of the 23rd. She went into labor in the prototype workshop, and her fellow engineers bargained with the Qin shop manager for permission to escort her home. Sorcha was there. He delivered the baby while Dirva and I worked, and he did it with a broken hand and a busted knee and completely by himself. The experience bonded them together in a way I could not and likely never will be able to understand. What I mean to say is that the morning I left, Nisa and Sorcha were friends, but when I came home that night, they were family. Neither ever used the word to describe their relationship, but it was obvious. They sniped at each other and laughed together; they were free with physical affection. They knew each other well, and there was an indefinable trust between them.