Redemption

Sesu 10, Kol 133. That was the date this entire encampment of Asan fugitives had been wiped out, except for Casselian. He’d been kidnapped by Ry’keth soldiers and dragged up to the imperial palace.

The Asan’s shoulders were tense. He glared down at the ground, hands cuffed, arms hung with chains; his fur was wet and stiff with old tears and blood. Clutched in a fist was a scrap of fabric.

Ky'sy'ana knelt. “Can I see that?”

He spat in her face.

That fabric had been from Jayla’s shirt; the only thing he had left of her. I’d brought him up to the imperial palace to bring the Asan into the main plot; to make Casselian a living face for the atrocities committed against them. To make Ky'sy'ana’s life worse, basically, as someone feigning loyalty to the empire and assisting the emperor in whatever he wanted.

What would warning them do to the timeline? It could mess things up on a larger scale. Ky'sy'ana would do something different from what she did in my canon, that was for sure.

If I told the Asan about the attack, and it happened, they would owe me for the warning. They might help me get home, out of this frankly inhospitable place I’d constructed. Not that I didn’t want to explore it!—but it was too dangerous.

“You look worried. Are you okay?” Jayla asked.

“Yes, please tell us what you’re worried about,” Casselian said icily.

And to add to that, these were two living, breathing, talking people in front of me (and more in the tent), and they were doomed because of me, I’d doomed them.

I was getting a chance to save people I’d already killed. That didn’t happen every day.

“There’s an attack. Ry’keth’s sending people to attack you tomorrow.”

“How can you prove it?”

“I can’t. I can tell you the things I know about it.”

Casselian waved his hand. Go ahead.

“It happens at night, and they’re led—they will be led by Major Sy'anh.” Who received a series of promotions across the novel, so I hoped I’d gotten the right one.

“You mean Captain Sy'anh?”

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” Finesse.

“I’ve met him.”

Jayla’s ears perked up, but Casselian just said, “He’s pretty tricky,” and left it at that.

He was tricky. He was also hella scummy and kind of interesting. I’d given him a badass design, which he probably didn’t deserve on account of being the worst (but I liked him).

I managed to prevent myself from rambling about my OC and said, “That’s all I know.” It really was; I doubted that Sy'anh’s personal details would help them.

Casselian sighed. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger for a minute, then said, “...Well, we might as well assume you’re not lying. Cost-benefit. Jayla, keep guard on her— Na’mi?”

“Naomi.”

“Naomi. Milo, Jaden, come here.” He waved over two other Asan and took them to stand in a small huddle away from me.

I took a deep breath, pressing a hand to my chest. I could feel my heart beating. I stood up, then sat down, and swung my arms and legs a few times. I had no lingering injuries from being hit by that car. It was like it had never happened at all.

The tent was bathed in a dim orange light, as sun filtered in through gaps in the fibers of the tent’s fabric. I ran the animal pelt I was sitting on between my forefinger and thumb, then the tent. The latter’s material was rough and hardy. I wondered what it was made of, whether linen, cotton, or hemp. What animal was the pelt from? I couldn’t tell. I hadn’t really made up animals, but because of the Asan, who were an extra species of hominid, I figured there should be a few more subspecies of most things and had doodled some weird-looking bunnies and cows.

“What are you doing?” Jayla asked.

“Feeling that it’s real,” I said simply.

“I’m curious about something,” she said, sitting down cross-legged. “How come you know my name? I’m no one special.”

“You could be.”

“I mean—even if you learned everyone’s, how do you know I’m me, and not Milo or Jaden or whatever?”

“I only remembered yours and Casselian’s,” I said, which was true. Mostly due to the fact that I’d killed everyone off by the time the Asan were introduced into the story, except Casselian, and Casselian only mentioned Jayla.

Jayla laughed. “So you guessed?”

“I knew Casselian was kind of in charge,” I said, “and then yeah, I guessed.”

“He’d be so mad if he heard you were lying.”

“I wasn’t lying.” I grinned at her. “I mean, I was right, wasn’t I?”

Jayla leaned forward on her arms, tufts of fur standing up from the inside of her elbows. “How old are you? I’m eighteen.”

“Twenty-six.”

Jayla’s eyes widened. “Whoa, that’s old!”

“Thanks very much,” I said dryly.

“You’re welcome! I thought you were younger. Hey, do you want something to eat?”

“Do you…have enough?” I asked cautiously. “Maybe ask Casselian.”

“He’ll just say no,” Jayla complained. “But I have chickens now.”

“Whoa, for real? Can I see them?”

Just then, Casselian came back over. “The date is tomorrow night, right? Sesu 10, after sunset?”

“Oh shit, wait,” I said. “No, it’s today, at about…” About two, three am, what did they call that? “A couple hours before dawn.” I’d left it as “hour” for simplicity’s sake.

Casselian glared at me. “Why did you tell us it was tomorrow when it was today?”

“We count time differently in Canada.”

“Right. Canada. Who you’re a ‘spy’ for.”

“I’m telling the truth!”

“When did I say you weren’t? Right. Everyone, gather round.”

There were about thirty Asan in this little tent. All of them were dressed in loose shirts and pants, except for three children, who were wearing dresses. Their clothes, adults and children, were white-colored with dyed designs. Casselian wore sandals laced up his legs, like a legionnaire.

He’s taking good care of his people. They didn’t look hungry or unhappy, despite their situation—but were uneasily glancing at me.

“We’re moving our location and hiding out. Just for tonight, and we’re going to leave the tent up as a decoy. That means sleeping rough.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“You’re not coming, or knowing. Hide out somewhere else.”

It’s not like that didn’t make sense, but… but I don’t even know how to defend myself.