Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky, #2)(50)
But she was hungry, and Iktan was right that she had nowhere to go. You’ve survived worse, Xiala, she told herself. Survive this and get back to Serapio. It sounds like he’s in need of rescue. And maybe she could learn something here among Serapio’s enemies. Something she might bring back so that when she did see him again, she would have something useful to offer him besides tears.
* * *
The camp was not as large as Xiala had first thought. There were three dozen tents made from tanned and treated hide stretched around flexible poles. The hump-shaped structures looked quick to assemble and disassemble and light enough for a person to carry in a pack on their back. A small refuse pile on the outskirts of the encampment suggested they had only been here a few days, and the lack of more permanent structures like a well or a ditch to the nearby river suggested they didn’t mean to stay for long.
Ziha escorted them to a tent six times as large as the others and able to fit a dozen people at once.
“You may refresh yourselves here,” she instructed. “There’s water and clean clothes. I’ll see about a meal, and then we’ll talk. You’ll tell me everything you learned, Iktan.”
“Of course.”
Her brow crinkled. “It would be proper for you to call me Commander.”
“You don’t have an army yet, Ziha. When that day comes, I’ll consider it.” Xe lifted the tent flap, motioned Xiala inside, and then followed.
Xiala heard the woman growl a curse before storming off. Shadows at the door meant Ziha had left guards to watch over them.
“You like to irritate her,” Xiala observed, eyes on Iktan as xe pulled the cloak from xir shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
Xiala had not gotten a good look at the priest before now. Xe was tall and sinewy, with a prominent nose in an angular face. Xir black hair had recently been shorn but since had grown in as a soft fuzz. Xe rubbed a hand over it now, as if annoyed at its length.
“She irritates easily,” xe said.
“But why poke her at all?”
Xe walked to a water basin and dipped both hands in. “Could she not bother to heat the water?” xe complained, before leaning over to wash xir face. “Ziha is young and spoiled and has had a tremendous amount of power given to her purely because of who her mother is. If things go as planned, she will soon have even more.”
“Then I understand your motivation even less.”
Iktan searched for a towel and, finding none, used xir gray shirt to wipe xir face. Xe looked back at her with large intelligent eyes. “Perhaps you’re right, and it is simply my nature to provoke. But be glad her temper is focused on me right now and not you. The Odo Sedoh killed her cousin and spoiled her clan’s long-planned coup of the Watchers. She wants him dead. You would make a fine proxy.”
Iktan pulled off xir shirt, knotted it up, and dipped it in the water. Xe continued xir ablutions, wiping across xir underarms. Xiala turned to give the priest privacy when xe began to unselfconsciously strip off xir pants. She heard the splash of water and the soft rub of cloth against skin. The scent of yucca and lavender soap filled her nose. She caught sight of Iktan’s backside as xe padded over to a trunk in the corner and threw it open. It was piled with fabrics, and xe plucked various articles of clothing from inside, holding them up for size. Once satisfied, xe dragged on a pair of white pants and a plain white shirt that looked very much like the lesser cousin to Ziha’s finer ensemble.
“But here’s the thing, Xiala.” Xe sank down on the thick furs covering the floor of the tent. “Her cousin killed my friend first, and I won’t forgive that.” Xe stretched, a yawn catching the corner of xir mouth. “You should get comfortable. Ziha will be back soon, and then it’s all business. It’s going to be a long day, and tomorrow? Even longer.”
She stared. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“I like you. And I’m lonely. Do I make you uncomfortable?”
“No…”
The truth was she liked Iktan. There was something about xir that made her want to trust. Her instincts were usually good about people, and she thought xe might be a friend, despite their strange circumstances. After all, xe had spared her life when xe could have simply gutted her and dumped her into the Tovasheh.
Moisture trickled down her face, and she realized she was sweating. After being outside for so long, the heat in the tent was stifling. Thick furs covered the ground inside, and a pit fire burned in the middle, smoke drifting up through the center hole.
She unfastened her cloak and let her hair spill down her back in plum-colored coils. Following Iktan’s example, she washed in the basin and picked clean clothes from the trunk.
“I have never seen a woman who looks like you before. Do all Teek look like you?”
Xiala turned to find Iktan lying down, hands propped behind xir neck and eyes closed.
“No,” she said. “We are as varied as the people of the Meridian, except…” She hesitated. To talk about being Teek felt like she was sharing secrets, but she wasn’t sure why. She had never been good at hiding who she was, what she was, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that pretending to be Water Strider was such a disaster. The fact that Iktan had so quickly and easily unmasked her convinced her that she should stop trying. Live as a Teek, die as a Teek, the saying went, and it had never felt more appropriate to her than now.