Page 56

The swell of her breasts rises and falls with each breath she takes. She sinks down into the water until her shoulders are submerged as her eyes drink me in. I’m standing where the water is waist deep, hitting just at my hips and leaving all the muscles of my body on display.

“What do you think?” I finally ask.

“Of?” Her eyes dart to mine from my abs.

“The hot springs?” I smile at her slowly.

“Oh. They’re nice. Good and hot.” She smiles back at me nervously.

“If this one isn’t to your liking, the far spring is cooler.” I point to the back of the room. “And the one right beside us is hotter than this one.”

“Like Goldilocks.”

“What’s Goldilocks?”

“It’s an old earth fairytale. A story that parents would tell their kids at bedtime. It’s about a little girl who walks into a family of bears’ house looking for the perfect place to rest. She tries everything in threes, too cold, too hot, just right, etc. I honestly can’t even remember the rest.”

“I see. Do earth animals have homes like humans?”

“No. Just a fictional account. Don’t you have anything like that? Something you tell the young to make them want to follow the rules or be good Zeahirians?”

“No. We don’t tell our children made up stories.”

Now is the time to open up to her about the Bak’hura. Not that I want to. The risk that she’ll find out what I’ve done and hate me for it makes me want to carry her out of here and fly off into deep space. I can barely handle the truth, how can I expect her to do so? “Our childhoods are not full of love and warmth.”

“Oh?” Her head tilts as she waits for me to continue.

“Brutality is our religion, violence our language. That’s ingrained in us from the very beginning. As you know, we’re almost always born with a twin.”

She nods, following along with my story.

“When we become adolescents, usually around the age of twenty-five rotations, we enter into a blood rite called Bak’hura. It’s a battle to the death in order to serve at the head of your house.”

She inhales sharply as the words settle in. Her eyes turn glassy as she watches me.

“It’s barbaric. No one should have to kill their sibling, yet we’re all forced to do so. It’s why I brought you here. To translate our oldest texts and find a way to convince the Sovereign to end the practice.”

“What if he doesn’t want to do that?”

“Then I’ll start a war. It has to end. The Bak’hura is horrendous. Evil.”

“But what about Altis and Vynia?”

“Vynia was born missing half her leg. The Sovereign doesn’t count her as whole.”

Neev scowls. “I don’t know how to feel about that. On one hand it’s offensive and wrong. But on the other hand, they didn’t have to participate.”

“She’s proven her worth over the years. Not that she should have had to do so.”

“Hyva?”

“He was born as a single. Rare.”

“Your twin?” she asks quietly.

“We fought. It was vicious and brutal.” I tilt my head back and point to the scar running across my neck. “He gave me this right before I tore his throat out. I nearly bled out alongside him.”

I expect my words to repel her. To show her the truth of the monster she sits across from. If she had any sense, she’d run from me. No matter how much I hate that I did it, if I had to do it again, I would. For the reason that he would not be looking for ways to better our world. It makes me just as much of a monster as him, but I won’t ever regret it.