Page 161 of With Wing And Claw

‘Yes, that would be—'

‘Even if you almost died in the meantime.Especiallybecause you almost died in the meantime.’ Her singsong voice was climbing higher. ‘They didn’t know if you’d survive it for the first three days! That was very rude, Sashka!’

Would it help to point out thatThysandrawasn’t the one who had detonated a mountain right beneath her own feet? She decided the answer was a resounding negative and instead said, ‘I’m very sorry for almost dying on you, too.’

Naxi huffed again.

The trees didn’t stir, though. The ferns lining their path didn’t develop any razor edges. It would have been so very easy for the forest to take bloody revenge on an aggrieved nymph’s behalf, and yet it did not – a small comfort, perhaps, but this was hardly the time for complaints and grand demands.

At least a minute went by before Naxi suddenly said, ‘Iwasgoing to leave, you know.’

Which shouldn’t have been a surprise.

It landed like a blow to the skull all the same – the unspoken possibility, still so very much there. Perhaps she had only stayed around to ensure Thysandra would wake up from her near-fatal injuries. Perhaps she had hoped for a better apology. Perhaps she had needed more than honesty, and—

‘Sashka.’ A drawn-out groan. ‘You’re supposed to have the presence of mind to realise that I did not in fact leave, and then you’re supposed to ask me why.’

Oh.

‘Sorry,’ Thysandra said weakly. ‘I didn’t realise there was a script.’

Naxi’s eyeroll was a strong suggestion she figure out the rules of the game immediately, if not five minutes ago. ‘It’s not like it’s hard. Just pretend you’re actually good at trusting people.’

That was more helpful than it had any right to be.

‘Alright.’ She managed a nervous laugh. ‘Why did you come back, then?’

‘Because,’ Naxi said, her entire body leaning into that word, ‘I realised I was leaving you in the company of a backstabbing arsehole whose fingers I should have bitten off weeks ago, and you were going to die if I didn’t do anything about it.’

It made all the sense, and yet it didn’t.

‘I was being horrible to you.’ Why she was arguing, she didn’t quite know. Not pointing it out felt like lying – as if Naxi might have overlooked the fact. ‘Horrible enough that you decided I didn’t have anything left to offer you. You weren’t supposed to care about me anymore.’

‘Yes.’ Naxi shrugged, some of the springy lightness returning to her movements. ‘That’s what I thought, too.’

‘Oh,’ Thysandra said, because she couldn’t think of anything better to say.

It earned her another glare. ‘Thescript, Sashka.’

‘I don’t know the script!’ Her voice cracked. ‘I’ve never done this before! What am I supposed to ask – why you decided that you were going to run straight back into a fucking battlefield despite knowing damn well that it might be the end of you? Despite your having reminded me time and time again that you weren’t going to risk your hide for anyone else’s wellbeing? Is that—’

‘Oh, pretty good,’ Naxi brightly said, and all at once she was entirely herself again, the twist of her head swift, sprightly, as if her body could barely contain the energy bouncing within her. ‘The reason for all of that is, of course, that I’ve always been a terrible demon.’

‘You are certainly terrible,’ Thysandra muttered.

‘Oh,thankyou.’ A sharp-toothed grin. ‘See? You’re getting better at this already.’

The urge to throw something at that smug blue-eyed face was maddening and delightful at once. ‘Am I supposed to ask what makes you so terrible now?’

‘Well,’ Naxi said thoughtfully, ‘the thing is that I’m still a nymph,too.’

That was hardly news.

The tone of her voice suggested itshouldbe news, though.

‘Yes?’ Thysandra said, entirely unsure what the script expected from her now.

‘I’ve been thinking a lot about that, these days,’ Naxi murmured, stepping gingerly over a fallen log on their path. Gone was the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She was suddenly entirely solemn again, gaze drifting into the distance as if to puzzle out something far greater than either of them. ‘I was never like my mother’s family, you know, so I figured I had to be like my father instead. Except that my fatherdidenjoy scaring people. He wouldn’t feel lonely. He wouldn’t feel envious of community.’