Page 52 of The Witch who Trades with Death

Chapter Fifty-Two

Khana hadn’t stopped trembling and Haz hadn’t let her go. He half-walked, half-dragged her back to the inn, where he pried the shield from her arms and asked his father for some tea. No one else was in the dining room, and Khana prayed it would stay that way.

They sat in front of the fireplace, burning animal bones for warmth that Khana didn’t feel. Out of the cold, away from Yamueto’s gaze, touch made her skin crawl, and she pulled away. Haz let her go, putting an inch of space between them.

Heimili made and served the tea, then sat on Khana’s other side, grunting as he straightened his prosthetic leg. Despite the fact that Heimili was thicker, broader, with a bushy beard and more gray hairs than his son, the two of them were almost mirror images of each other. Same pensive expression, same facial silhouette, they even sat the same way, one leg folded, the other – flesh or bone – stretched out.

“They won’t give you up,” Heimili said gruffly. “The chief will make them see sense.”

“We can’t defend against flying creatures like that,” Khana said numbly.

“If he could take us so easily, he wouldn’t have bothered with that little show. He’d just do it. People only try to scare other people into doing something when they themselves are afraid.”

Her chuckle sounded hollow even to her own ears. “I don’t think that man has felt fear in a very long time.”

They watched the fire and drank tea. Eventually the trembling subsided, fear giving way to anger. “I should have killed him,” Khana growled. “He was right there. Honor be damned, we should have hurled our spears at him.”

“I’ve seen you rip apart an entire company’s worth of soldiers with almost no training,” Haz pointed out. “I don’t think that would’ve worked on the man who’s been doing that for centuries. Especially since he was already glowing.”

“And it would’ve dishonored us, killing a man under a diplomat’s flag,” Heimili added.

“Well, I should’ve done something ! One look at him and I just – I…” Back to trembling. Her tea rattled and splashed in her clay cup. “I should have done something.”

At the very least, she could have joined in the call for him to fuck off . But she couldn’t even do that. She’d taken one look at the man and been utterly helpless. Useless.

Haz glanced at her, then back at the fire. “I’m taller and stronger than Bhayana. Probably have at least half a stone’s worth of muscle on her.”

Khana blinked at the apparent segue.

“Makes sense that if she, say, came at me with intent to hurt, we’d have a proper fight. I’d probably even get the upper hand, don’t you think? I certainly wouldn’t lose and need to get treated for three broken ribs and a dozen other bruises.”

Heimili stiffened on Khana’s other side.

“I knew she was going to hurt me,” Haz said softly. “Maybe even kill me. And I knew I could’ve – should have – stopped it. But when she came at me, I just…froze. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her or even raise a hand against her.”

The self-anger leaked out of her. Khana leaned against Haz, trying to give and seek comfort. “You loved her.”

“That’s not what held me back. It was fear, pure and simple.”

“You got her eventually,” she said. “When she and Sipah’s men picked a fight.”

“I still froze at first. Wasn’t until everyone else started moving that I managed to throw a punch. I couldn’t be outdone by Yxe of all people.”

She laughed. “Gods, he was so drunk and vicious! Didn’t he bite a man?”

“He did,” Heimili confirmed, relaxing a bit now that his son was done talking about his pain. “Spat out a piece of his clothing; I found it on the floor.”

“Ew.”

Haz smacked his father on the shoulder. “You should’ve given it to him as a trophy.”

“If I gave trophies for every bar fight I saw, I’d be nothing but the trophy salesman,” Heimili argued. “I don’t need to encourage anymore fights in my inn.”