She comes forward, to his side. I can’t tell if they’re romantically linked, but their bond, whatever it is, is deep. The King and the Queen walk away from the ballroom, side by side, leaving the carnage behind them.

20. Taema

TWENTY

TAEMA

I dream that I went with Ensi, and I awaken in a silken bed.

The sun streams through the window. Ensi lies next to me, fast asleep, his arm thrown over his eyes against the light. His face is clean of blood, like the events of the night before never happened. But they did. And this, right here, is the man who did them.

His other arm is around me and, trapped in his embrace, I can’t stop thinking about all the dead bodies. The fact that I had taken a gun and gone down there, something I never thought I’d do. I still feel like I’m changing and morphing. I’m becoming more like Tila, but I’m turning into someone else I don’t recognize, either, and perhaps someone I don’t like.

I turn and watch him, sleeping peacefully. I look at his torso, chiseled by modern medicine. What would he look like now if he couldn’t alter himself? Would that taut skin sag against a growing paunch? Would I recognize his face, with its lines that show the type of life he chose to live?

He opens his eyes, and his eyes are black pits. His mouth stretches wide, and deep within his throat is a glowing, pulsing light.

“Are you strong enough to kill me?” he asks, his voice crackling like a flame. “Do you really have what it takes?”

*   *   *

I jerk awake, for real this time.

I’m in the room in the safe house where I store my things, but where I hardly ever sleep. It’s my first brainload-free night in over a week.

I ease out of the bed, my sore muscles stretching. I have a bruise on my side, where a bullet grazed the Kalar suit. If I hadn’t been wearing it, the bullet would have killed me. I rub my sore muscles and stagger into the shower to wash off the sweat and the imaginary scent of blood that still clings to my nostrils.

After I’ve scalded myself, I go down to the kitchen, ordering strong, real coffee from the replicator despite its warning that caffeine is bad for me. I load it with cream and sugar, to boot.

Nazarin isn’t here. He’s gone to report in to the Ratel, receive his reward for helping with the fight. I want to ask him if that was his plan all along. I thought he wanted to foster unrest. So why, when unrest presented itself in a very real way, did he decide to help Ensi instead?

Using every security measure I can think of, I bring Ensi’s scanned notebook to my implants.