Page 56 of The Witch who Trades with Death

Chapter Fifty-Six

Sava

The Seven Masters met privately after the mass funeral. Few of them were in their fine clothes. Thulu Bhalu was still in his blood-splattered armor from the night before, his bear cloak torn in two. Navana Cila had a nasty scratch on her cheek that had been hastily stitched up, and the chief herself had sprained her wrist in the fighting. Pabu Pinnsviri looked every one of his years, and Sava almost felt sorry for him. Bhayana’s corpse hadn’t been recovered, but as she hadn’t been present for roll call, hers was probably among the shredded body parts or even eaten.

“So…” Athor Cituva said, breaking the silence that had descended upon the throne room. “We should probably discuss giving up the witch.”

From behind Phramanka’s throne, Sava bristled. So did Mahi Hyrjorna. We give up witch, we give up our honor.

“She’s not even a citizen.”

She soldier. OUR soldier.

“I don’t expect the emperor to spare us at this point, anyway,” Thulu grumbled in agreement. “He has us cornered and he knows it. What use does he have for such a deal?”

Athor huffed, glancing at Pabu. He gave a weak snort. “It’s worth the chance.”

We. Swear. Oath, Mahi signed sharply. Navana Cila nodded in agreement.

Athor turned to Rivo Phaska pleadingly. “What about you? You accused her of being a spy not too long ago.”

Rivo gave him an incredulous look. “Not since she killed the Reguallian prince. And if she was spying on us, she would’ve disappeared during any of the three battles she’s fought to talk to the other side and give them whatever information they wanted. She could’ve easily faked her own death last night and disappeared. She didn’t.”

Athor grumbled in frustration. Sava tried not to look smug.

Rivo turned to Phramanka. “I do think we should talk about evacuation, though.”

Navana agreed. Some of the smaller eagle feathers from her headdress had got caught in her hair. “For the civilians, at least.”

Phramanka glanced up at Sava. “Any word on the reinforcements from our kin?”

Sava grimaced. The messenger had arrived that morning. “The coast is being bombarded, so Black, Purple, and Green Battalions are needed there. Yellow and Orange are two weeks out, and the city forces in the south have just now gathered on the other side of the tundra.”

Athor swore. “It’ll take them weeks to get here! And they’ll lose a good chunk of their forces to the elements. Phramanka, the trade would at least buy us time.”

The chief glared at him. A dark chuckle bubbled out of Sava’s chest.

“What’s so funny, boy?”

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing funny about any of this. He didn’t know why he laughed when all he felt was despair. First Pinnsviri, now Cituva. His mother had been the one to use Khana as bait in the first place, not caring whether she survived. How long before she swallowed her pride and surrendered her to Yamueto? How long before the other Masters stopped fighting her on it?

He didn’t say any of that. He looked at Athor and, still smiling, said, “Here I was thinking Neta got her courage from your side of the family.”

Athor’s face turned brick red as he stood from his throne. “What did you say, you son of a–”

Phramanka intercepted him with the Iron Scepter. “Sit down, Athor. Try to scrape together some dignity. You–” She pointed the scepter at Sava. “If you can’t be civil, you can leave.”

Sava left, colder than he’d ever been in a blizzard. He headed straight for his house and walked into his parents’ bedroom. He felt numb as he shifted a loose stone in the floor by Thriman’s side of the bed, revealing a chest filled with gold and jewelry accumulated over decades. Of course, it was locked. He was trying to remember where the key was when someone cleared their throat.

He winced, looking up at his father.

Thriman leaned against the door frame. “I remember when you were six years old. Napha was making ginger cookies, but you thought the dough tasted better raw. You got your pudgy hands around a solid handful before I caught you, cheeks puffing, all wide-eyed with terror…”

“Where’s the key?” Sava asked.

“Why? Trying to make a purchase?”

“Khana needs to get out of here. She’s not safe.”

“None of us are.”

Sava glared at him.

Thriman let out a gusty sigh. “They’re talking about giving her up, aren’t they?”

“Pinnsviri and Cituva. And Ma used her as bait last night–”

“During a battle ,” he pointed out. “Phramanka’s not going to give her up to the emperor. She’ll kill her first, quick and clean, just like Khana asked.”

Sava shook his head. “Better for her to get out of here, instead. She has a chance at a happy life, for the first time.”

Thriman visibly considered that. “She’s also, arguably, the only true weapon we have against the empire.”

“That was before they had the flying advantage. She can’t be everywhere at once.” Sava sat back, leaning against the pelt-covered wall. Thriman came over and joined him, grunting with age as he did. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You’re going to hate me for this,” Thriman said. “I was glad when I was sick, during that skirmish, and you stayed behind.”

Sava paused, caught off-guard. That had not been what he expected to hear.

“I know you wanted to go to war,” he continued. “Not because you like war. You don’t like being a soldier, I know that. You just wanted to be with Myrta. It’s the same reason I’m right there with your mother whenever she fights. But I was so relieved when you stayed. And when word got back that Myrta had died, and what she’d died doing … that would’ve been you. I know it in my bones. Given the choice, I’d pick you to survive, no matter how it hurts. Every time.”

Sava rested his head against the wall. “I can’t hate you for that. I’m sure Heimili’s thinking something very similar right now.”

“You still love Myrta?”

He didn’t know how to even answer that question. “I think so? It still hurts, just not as often. Athicha and Haz helped me out of it, and now…”

Thriman took his hand and squeezed it. “Losing a friend can be just as painful as losing a lover.”

Sava squeezed back. “It really is. And I hate it. I don’t want to go through it again.”

Thriman shifted to give him a half-hug. Sava hadn’t realized he’d started crying until he tried to take another breath and hiccupped. He wiped his eyes. “I didn’t even realize I was falling for Khana. It snuck up on me. It wasn’t until she enlisted and started fighting that I… I didn’t want to fall for her. Especially not now . But she’s been so ridiculously brave, and that – that just rubs off on you. And with her powers, I started thinking that maybe she was safe to love. She’s walked off injuries that would’ve killed anyone else.”

“Against any other enemy, you’d be right,” Thriman said, clutching Sava’s shoulders.

He sniffed, straightening and meeting his father’s eyes. “We still have time to get her out. To give her a head start. I’d never see her again, but at least… at least she’d be safe.”

Thriman gave a grim smile and pulled a corded necklace out from under his shirt. The chest’s key dangled from it. “Normally, your mother carries this.”

Sava didn’t reach for it. “Why isn’t she doing that today?”

Thriman’s smile turned into a smirk. “She said if you weren’t going to get the girl out of here, I was to do it for you.”