Bridge of Dreams

Chapter 36

Zhahar sat at the wobbly kitchen table, rolling a glass of firewater between her hands. The cheap, rough-tasting alcohol didn’t appeal to her, but lately Zeela always had a bottle stashed in a bottom cupboard behind the pots and pans that weren’t often used.

The seasons were changing. The autumn days still held some warmth, but the night air had the crisp scent of winter. She had to find warm clothes—mostly garments appropriate for Zeela, but also garments she and Sholeh could wear. And tomorrow she would have to face the market and the increasingly suspicious looks from the vendors and the people in her neighborhood.

=Zhahar?= Zeela sounded groggy.

*You need to rest,* Zhahar said, not wanting to get into an argument and knowing she would if Zeela didn’t sink back into rest.

=We all need to rest. We need to sleep. It’s been too many days since we got real sleep. I missed a couple of easy blocks today and have the bruises to prove it.=

*You missed those blocks because you forgot that Sholeh is taking that medicine to calm her nerves, and it’s strong enough to affect all of us,* Zhahar snapped. *You forgot, so you went out last night and got stinking, fall-down drunk, and I had to clean up the puke after you passed out. You forgot—*

=I haven’t forgotten anything,= Zeela snarled. =And you gulping down a glass of firewater isn’t going to help.=

A brittle silence filled the little kitchen.

*We were sent to the darkest landscape that resonated with the heart of Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar,* Zhahar said wearily. *When you connected with that Knife and got work so fast, I thought it was a sign that this was where we were supposed to be, that Sholeh and I would find something here too. I thought it was a sign that we ended up on a shadow street that had been touched by the wizards, that our presence might do some good. But after you started reporting for training every day and Sholeh and I could come into view only in our room or when one of us went out to the market, I began to realize what it had been like for you and Sholeh when I worked as a Handler, how limited your lives were. How limited our lives would be from now on, no matter which one of us is supporting us.*

=We were all able to have a bit of a life when you worked at the Asylum, at least for a while.=

Zhahar hesitated, but this wasn’t something she had a right to hide from the warrior aspect of their Tryad. *The last couple of times I went to the market, there was talk—people commenting about how they never see us together, and isn’t it strange that we’re doing washing and such late at night when two of us are home during the day and could be putting that time to use.*

=Busybodies,= Zeela grumbled. =All they do is talk.=

But Zhahar heard the uneasiness under the grumble, so she said the rest. *A story has started going around about a kind of demon the wizards brought with them to act as their servants and spies—a demon that can wear more than one face but has only one body.*

Now Zeela swore. =We need to go. Sholeh needs to get off that medicine so her head is clear and she can help us. Then we need to pack up and go.=

*Not yet. Not yet,* she repeated when Zeela started to protest. *If you can finish your training with the Knife Guild, you’ll have a better chance of finding work in another part of Vision. I’ll push Sholeh to remember what she learned about other parts of the city, parts that weren’t directly touched by the wizards. We can hold on long enough for you to get your journeyman’s badge.”

=How many other Tryad held out too long?= Zeela asked grimly.

Because she knew the answer, Zhahar said nothing. She waited until Zeela drifted back down to rest. Then she reached into her pocket and took out the little bag that held the one-shot bridge Sebastian had given them. She stared at it while she sipped the firewater, hoping the alcohol would pull her into sleep.

They could use that one-shot bridge to leave Vision, and she would insist that Zeela use it if they were in life-threatening danger. But every time she looked at the bag, she knew with a certainty she couldn’t explain that if they used it, if they tried to slip around this part of the journey that Heart’s Justice demanded of them, they would get a glimpse of what they needed at the moment it disappeared from their lives.

Tucking the bag back into her pocket, she got up, rinsed out the glass, and went into the bedroom to try to give them all the sleep they needed.