Rinrin

Jayla looked a little worried to hear that I’d be kicked out of the tent to be on my own. “What if they find her and…y’know, kill her?”

“I’m sure an elite spy like her can defend herself. After all, she’s a spy who’s made it without dressing like a Ry’san, without looking like a Ry’san, and without picking up any of their customs. That’d only make sense if she was disguising herself as an ambassador, but somehow, I’ve never heard of this country called Canada even though they’d in that case be making diplomatic overtures towards the main power on this continent. She must be very skilled indeed to construct such a confusing situation.”

Ah, shit. Why hadn’t I written him to be an idiot?

Jayla bit her lip. “I don’t really get all that…ah, but here, Naomi.” She reached into a pocket of her pants and took out a knife wrapped in leather. “Do you have any weapons right now?”

I shook my head.

“Then take this. Do you know how to use it?”

Not really. If I said that, I’d be further cementing myself as ‘not a spy’, wouldn’t I? Did it matter? I couldn’t afford to have them find out who I really was, that was for sure. “I’m used to different kinds of weapons.”

“It’s pretty simple. Hold it tight with the tip of the blade facing up.” She put the knife, still wrapped in leather, in my hand and pressed my thumb around it. “If you wanna kill someone, go for the neck. If you want to disable them, you can go for these big arteries on biceps and the back of their legs; but that could still kill them, so be careful.”

I tried a few practice stabs at the air. She pushed my arm down a little, gently correcting my angle. “Keep your arm closer to yourself, otherwise they’ll get in through your defense really easily.”

“Jayla,” Casselian said.

“I don’t think she wants to hurt us!” Jayla said.

“You’ve known her for what, a quarter hour? How do you know that?”

“At least let me keep the knife,” I said. “I promise I won’t try to hurt any of you.”

“...Jayla, you can give it to her at dusk, when we’ll split up. For now, give it back.”

He held out his hand. I passed it back. He gave it to Jayla, who put it in her pocket.

“Um,” Jayla said. “Do you want to see my chickens?”

“Sure.”

She helped me up off the cot and led me to the tent’s back door.

It was late afternoon. The sun sat low in the sky, explaining something about how the light quality had been in the tent. Stretching out all around me was arid desert. The dry heat sat on my skin like sandpaper. In the close distance was a grove of Joshua trees, sheltering a mix of shrubs. Further off, there seemed to be a city, with thick clay walls.

Something feathered brushed against my leg. I shook my attention off the distance and looked down. We were in a little fenced enclosure, with a cloth hutch in one corner. Two chickens, a tawny desert breed, were curiously examining my jeans, pecking at the folds.

“I’ve got six hens and a rooster,” Jayla said. “C’mere, baby.” She scooped up one of the curious chickens into her arms, where it clucked and stretched its neck in different directions, looking around. “This is Lele. She’s a good girl, you can pet her.”

I ran my hand across the chicken’s smooth feathers. She made chicken noises at me.

“Give her some scratches around the bottom of her neck, she likes that.”

I obliged. She seemed to be all feathers; my fingers sunk deep in.

The chicken on the ground bit Jayla’s pants.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give you attention too.”

Jayla passed Lele to me and knelt down. I struggled for a second—the chicken was heavy, warm, and moving, and I couldn’t keep a solid grip on her. She escaped my arms and went flapping her wings down to the ground.

“Sorry!”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter, you can just sit down and pet her.”

I knelt down and clicked my tongue a few times. Lele ambled back over, making mrrp noises, and I scratched at the bottom of her neck again. “You’re a good girl, eh? Yeah, I can see that. You’re sweet.”

“Did you ever keep chickens?”

“No, but I had a cat.”

“Like a barn cat?” As she made idle conversation with me, Jayla picked up another chicken and held it out. “This is Cass, our rooster.”

“You named your rooster after Casselian?” I laughed. “How did he react?”

“Oh, he wants this guy dead! He keeps saying we should eat him. He never said that about my old rooster, Rinrin, so I’m sure it’s cause of the name.”

“Cass hates Cass. Pretty messed up.”

“That’s what I tell him!”

I pointed at the buildings in the distance. “What’s over there?”

“That’s the oasis and Yesau. Well, what used to be Yesau…It’s called Ry’yesa’th or something now. They took over the whole place. But we can still go in the ethnic quarter without getting suspicion. No Asan wants to turn in another Asan.”

“You’re on the run?”

“I shouldn’t say more. Why’re you asking so many questions?”

“Just making conversation. Sorry.”

Jayla sighed, resting on her arms and tilting her head back. “Y’know, I know that Cass’s got a point. You’re suspicious.”

“Knowing that, why’d you trust me? Why’d you give me your knife?”

“Because I think it’s better to give people the benefit of the doubt. If you’re mean to someone, they just end up hating you.”

“That’s a pretty mature mentality.”

“My rooster Rinrin used to peck at and harass a couple of the hens all the time, to the point where one ran off and got eaten. To make the chickens get along again, we ended up killing and cooking him.” Jayla gazed into the distance in mock contemplation. “That was the first time I learned about the cycle of life…”

“So what’s your philosophy? That you don’t want to get eaten?”

“Nah. More like I don’t want to be cruel when it gets me nowhere.”