Bethel

BETHEL

THE UNIVERSITY OF GERICH ASSET RECOVERY TEAM

EASTERN RENDEROS

They’d been trudging through the seemingly endless rocky knolls for a few weeks, but to Bethel it felt more like years. To say it was hard country was an understatement. He longed to see civilisation again, even if it came in the form of a few crude huts butted up against one another. Because as far as he could make out, that was about as civilised as Renderos got. Still, it was better than nothing.

At least their journey hadn’t been without its highlights. They were travelling through a wild land unchanged by the passage of centuries. He couldn’t find half the villages they’d visited on any of his maps, and their inhabitants were fascinating, if backward. The great wide open in between was harsh, but it was also starkly beautiful. Everyone had marvelled, many times, at the mysterious flickering lights in the night sky that were neither stars nor meteors. And no one would ever forget the sweet, clear water from the spring they’d stumbled across just a few days ago. He’d never tasted anything so fresh and pure in his life!

Lately, though, certain things were getting on his nerves. A party of nearly three hundred was nothing short of a logistical nightmare. They had too many wagons and not enough drivers. Illness and injury were taking their toll, and he was beginning to suspect not every case was genuine. Equipment that was difficult to replace had broken down or gone missing. Horses were succumbing to the hostile environment. Bandits were shadowing them, waiting for an opening. They were no closer to hunting down the fugitive and her stolen object. And now, perhaps worst of all, his ex-girlfriend Khela had practically fucked Colonel Tonneson in public.

Bethel glanced at Magister Roaoo. “So,” said Roaoo, his jaw tight with anger. “This is just a little picnic in the barbaricum for you then, is it?”

“Sorry,” said Khela. She emerged from Tonneson’s tent, her breath coming white in the frigid morning air. “We didn’t think anyone would miss us.”

“Oh, is that so?” asked Roaoo. “How could we, when you scream at the top of your lungs when you climax?”

Bethel snorted, trying to hold in his laughter. It was funny hearing the usually taciturn magister making a joke. Not that anyone else was laughing. And actually, there wasn’t much for him to laugh at either, not when you considered that mere moments ago the girl he loved had had Tonneson’s dick in her. And he’d probably been giving it to her from behind, too, with those meaty hands of his around her hips. Just picturing it made him sick with envy. Nothing funny about any of that. Why did Roaoo even want him here again?

“Uh.” Khela started to say something else, blushed furiously instead, then closed her mouth.

Tonneson popped his head out of the tent’s entry flap, sweaty, bare-chested and apparently unconcerned by all the fuss. “Aw, come on, professor,” he said. “We’re consenting adults. It’s not like we were doing anything wrong.”

“Don’t speak too soon, Tonneson.” Roaoo’s face darkened. “You were supposed to be on patrol this morning, were you not?”

“No, professor.”

“Hmm. That’s funny, because I double-checked the rota and sure enough, your name was there. Both times. However, I did not see Khela’s name in the ‘assigned task’ section.”

As Khela stifled an indignant cry, Bethel tried again not to picture her and Tonneson together. And failed.

The colonel was unmoved. “That can’t be right, surely? I don’t think I’m on the rota until this afternoon…”

Roaoo shook his head. “You must have misheard me Tonneson, so let me rephrase. Your name was definitely on the rota, and the task assigned was ‘patrol.’ And while I think you could argue that you were indeed conducting a patrol of sorts just now, it was not the kind this expedition needs. Not by a long shot.”

Despite his misery, Bethel struggled not to lose it. Now that was comedy gold. The magister was truly on fire today! Ah, not that it made him feel any better about the situation, of course.

Confusion and fear displaced the smug look on Tonneson’s face. “What? But I made the rota myself and I–”

Roaoo held up a hand. “But nothing, Tonneson. You know, I saw this coming. Really, I did. I should have nipped this in the bud a few weeks ago when I first noticed my commander of soldiers and my research assistant making eyes at each other. It was truly remiss of me not to say something at the time, because I had a feeling it wouldn’t lead to anything good. And it seems I was right.”

“Sir,” said Tonneson. “I didn’t–”

Roaoo’s eyes bulged in fury. “Put some clothes on and get out, will you? Show a little respect!”

“Yessir,” said Tonneson, ducking back inside the tent.

Roaoo looked Khela up and down as they waited. She shrank under his piercing gaze. Bethel, wondering yet again why Roaoo needed him here, avoided looking at either of them.

“Good,” said Roaoo when Tonneson emerged fully dressed. “That’s much, much better. Now, let me make one thing clear to you, won’t you? While I don’t particularly care that the two of you are fucking, I find your lack of discretion... well, slightly unsettling, to be honest. Then again, maybe it’s what all the kids are into these days, and I’m just old and out of touch. It’s possible. On the other hand, what I do care about is our mission. If it were to fail because you’re too distracted to do your job–”

“Sir,” said Tonneson, holding up a finger. “I’m afraid I must object to that on the grounds–”

“Let me finish!” shouted Roaoo, his eyes nearly exploding out of his skull. “Don’t interrupt! If this mission were to fail because you’re too distracted to do your job properly–say, by putting booty duty before actual duty, for instance–well, the result would be that, at the very least, your career as a commander would be finished. Finished! At worst, well... let’s just say it would be better for you if you were to spend the rest of your life on the run. Am I making myself clear?”

Bethel looked away so his smile wouldn’t betray him. He hadn’t expected the magister to ever utter a phrase like booty duty.

“Yes, sir.” Tonneson was doing his best to maintain eye contact with Roaoo, but clearly finding it a seriously unnerving task.

Roaoo pointed at Khela. “The same goes for you. Since you’re not the leader of the Scouts, I highly doubt the Warden Master would actually hang you. Mind you, by the time he was done with you, you’d probably wish he had.”

“Magister,” said Khela, “please let me just say I’m very, very sorry for–”

Roaoo waved her words away. “Whatever it is you have to say, I don’t care to hear it. Just go.”

“Yes, sir.” She slunk away with her head bowed. Bethel tried to catch her eye as she passed, but she wasn’t having it.

“I’ll say one thing for you, Colonel Tonneson,” said Roaoo. “You do surprise me.”

Tonneson looked up. “Sir?”

“I said, you surprise me. This was decidedly unprofessional. I expected better from you. Tell me, what were you thinking?”

“I... well, I suppose I wasn’t, professor.”

“Hmm. Well, my advice would be to start thinking, eh? And maybe do it sooner rather than later?”

“Yes, professor.”

Roaoo straightened. “Yes. And about that–it’s magister, actually.”

“Uh, sir?”

“I said, it’s magister,” said Roaoo, pursing his lips as he held out his arms to better show off his grey robes of office. “Do I look like a mere professor to you?”

“No, sir,” said Tonneson, but it seemed to Bethel that he was only agreeing for the sake of it, and didn’t really understand the point Roaoo was trying to make.

Roaoo put his arms behind his back and drew himself up to his full height. “Hmm. Tell me, is a captain higher in rank than a colonel, Tonneson?”

Tonneson seemed baffled by the question. “Uh, no sir. Of course not.”

“Of course not.” Roaoo was patronising at the best of times, but now he managed to reach a level of arrogance that Bethel had not thought possible. He was starting to feel sorry for Tonneson, even though he’d never liked him. And, as of this morning, disliked him more than he could say. “I suppose that’s probably why you never hear me address you as Captain Tonneson, isn’t it?”

“Er, yes. Sir.”

“A professor is to a magister what a captain is to a colonel. Don’t make the mistake of calling me a professor again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me something else, Tonneson? Where does your lack of respect for me come from, exactly? Is it because I don’t wear a sword on my belt, like you? Is it because I’m old, and not all battle-hardened and hulking and barrel-chested, like you?”

“No, sir.”

“Meaning?”

Tonneson hesitated. “Meaning I’ve no lack of respect for you, sir.”

“And yet, Tonneson,” said Roaoo, scoffing, “of this I remain utterly unconvinced. I’m not a member of your vaunted Scouts, so I know I don’t count for much in your estimation. I know how you see us mere civilians. But you know what? It doesn’t matter, Colonel Tonneson, because your troop is but a part of my university. An important part, to be sure, but a subordinate one. I am in charge here, not you. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, sir.”

Roaoo sighed. “Well,” he said, his shoulders sagging, “that’s it. Lecture over. I thought I would enjoy it you know, Tonneson. Pulling rank on you? But there’s surprisingly little pleasure to be had in trying to cow you. Oh, and I had plans to write you up and everything. But what’s the point? Go. You’re dismissed.”

Tonneson seemed to share Bethel’s surprise. All that build-up, only to go essentially nowhere? What about punishment? Not even a whipping? How was he supposed to learn from his mistake? “You’re not going to write me up?”

Roaoo shook his head. “No. Not this time.”

It took a few moments, but Tonneson actually smiled. Smiled! And it wasn’t the cynical smirk Bethel had expected to see on his stupid, ridiculously handsome face, but an apparently genuine expression of gratitude. Could it be that Roaoo’s words had actually gotten through to him?

“I... I don’t know what to say, sir,” said the colonel, “except thank you, er, of course. I’m sorry to have let you down, and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

“That was a terrible attempt at an apology,” said Roaoo. “But it will have to suffice. Go, then. Get moving. I believe your outriders are due back any moment.”

“Yes, sir.” Tonneson walked stiffly past Roaoo, sparing Bethel only the most cursory of glances.

“You can go as well,” Roaoo told Bethel, but to his surprise, the magister was the one who walked away.

“Yes, magister,” said Bethel. He still didn’t understand why in fuck’s name had the man had insisted he be there. It would probably take him weeks to process everything! Months! Ugh, and for right now in his head, Khela lay on her back, legs open with the colonel atop her. They were still poised like that as he made his way back to the main part of the camp, trying to suppress the ugly image, and all the while trailing Tonneson while still keeping a polite amount of distance between them. He had absolutely nothing to say to the man. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he had all that much to say to his ex-girlfriend either.

Khela was already in the camp’s nerve centre, needlessly adjusting and re-adjusting her horse’s saddle to an audience of sniggering soldiers. As Tonneson drew near, someone started to slow clap him. The beginning of a rousing cheer went up, too, but there must have been something ominous in the colonel’s expression because the playful mood instantly evaporated. Before he could even say a word, men scattered like cockroaches.

Bethel found a barrel and sat on it, thinking it would make a good spot from which to oversee the morning’s events. Tonneson met his eye again for the briefest moment, but the man’s face was unreadable. He wondered if his own face was as expressionless. Or could Tonneson see how hurt he was? Hurt, and resentful. He spat. Actually, no. Fuck that noise–he was pissed. But not at the colonel. He was annoyed at himself for still pining for Khela. They hadn’t been a thing for ages, and with good reason. Shit, even when they’d been going out, their relationship had been rocky at best, and in fact most of the time he’d considered the girl a colossal pain in the arse. Yeah, he reckoned Tonneson was welcome to her.

Sergeant Styler came over to stand next to the colonel. “First lot’s coming in now, sir,” he said. “Four men.”

“Four, sergeant?” asked Tonneson. “I don’t hear a thing. How fast are they moving?”

“Doesn’t sound like they’re in a hurry, sir.”

“Can you tell who they are, exactly?”

Styler shook his head. “I’d only be guessing at that, sir.”

“But you know there are four of them?”

“I’d be willing to bet money on it.”

“No doubt.” Tonneson laughed. “And I’d be a fool to take that bet. You have a gift, sergeant. A fucking gift!”

Styler’s expression was blank. “Sir.”

But it seemed that the sergeant did indeed have a gift, because two pairs of rangy horsemen soon rode into camp. Each had matted hair and dark circles under their eyes, but one of them–Gansen–looked particularly haggard. Tonneson halted him. “Anything to report, trooper?”

“No sir,” said Gansen. “Nothing.”

“Did you get any sleep before your patrol?”

Gansen shook his head. “Uh, no. Not really, sir. I got stuck with back-to-back shifts for some reason.”

Bethel stifled a giggle. “Oh yeah? For some reason, eh?” he muttered under his breath.

Tonneson nodded. “Well there was, uh, a mistake on the rota. Tell you what, trooper–you can join the wagons until midday and use the time to catch up, eh?”

Gansen perked up immediately. “Really? I’m off until midday?”

“That’s correct, trooper. Go and sleep. In fact, that’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.” Gansen beamed. “Thank you, sir!” He dismounted and led his horse away. Styler followed him, the two chatting as they walked.

Bethel studied Tonneson. The man glanced around in what he probably thought was a casual way, but Bethel wasn’t fooled. He was looking for Khela, obviously unaware of the fact that she’d already left. Then he brought a hand to his face as if he were smoothing his moustache, but surreptitiously sniffed his middle finger instead. A very specific image of the two of them together formed in Bethel’s mind, and he was again seething with envy. Fuck it! Hadn’t he just decided he was done with all that shit?

“Rider!” shouted Styler, breaking off his conversation with Gansen.

“Did you say rider?” asked Tonneson. “Singular?”

“Yes sir. Pretty sure it’s just the one.”

Tonneson spat. “Shit. That can’t be good.”

A few moments before it came into view, the thump of hooves announced the arElrondl of a big stallion. He was foaming at the mouth and snorting as a trooper named Russek, flushed and excited, brought him to a stop. “Tracks to the northwest, sir!” he shouted. “They’re fresh. It could be the fugitive! It could be her!”

Bethel jumped off his barrel, all thoughts of Khela leaving his head.

“Move out!” bellowed Tonneson. “Northwest! Go! Go! Go! Everyone, move out!” Dozens of outriders mounted up and thundered out of the camp.

Bethel could feel their anticipation. So, they might finally catch the fugitive and go the fuck home again? It was a tantalising notion on a thousand levels. “Aw, fuck yeah!”

Tonneson caught Russek before the man could disappear. “Wait a moment, soldier! You were with Poths, weren’t you? Where is he? And why didn’t you sound the horn?”

“We did sound the horn, sir,” said Russek. “We must have sounded it a dozen times at least. We thought we might be too far out for anyone to hear, though, so we decided I should come back. Poths is still out there.”

“What?” Tonneson’s eyes went hard. “You left him alone? Out there? With her?”

Russek swallowed. “Alone? Wha–? No! No sir, of course not! I only left when one of the other teams caught up to us. Pothy’s horse threw a shoe, so he stayed with them. And I was right behind the others that just got here, so I could tell you what we saw…”

The colonel relaxed. “Ah. Well, good. That’s fine, trooper. Good.”

“I would never have left a mate alone out there, sir. Never.”

Tonneson waved a hand as if brushing away the idea. “No, no. Of course. I know that.”

“Is it really her, do you think?” asked Bethel, walking over to join the conversation.

“I’m not certain of it, sir,” said Russek, looking down at him from the saddle, “but Poths thought the tracks were probably hers.”

“Truly?” That from Roaoo. Bethel had known he was coming over, but Tonneson hadn’t. He tried to keep his expression neutral even though the sight of the blood suddenly rising in the colonel’s cheeks delighted him.

“Yes, sir,” said Russek to the magister.

“How can he be sure?”

“He’s a good tracker, sir. Probably one of the best we got.”

“Really?”

“Yes, sir. In my estimation, of course.”

Roaoo pursed his lips. “And in your estimation who are, say, our regiment’s top three trackers?”

“Top three?” Russek’s brow furrowed as he mulled the question over. “Um, well, Poths, of course. And Eckols, he’s definitely up there. The top spot though, I’d have to say, would go to Sergeant Hassing. Incredible tracker. Easily the best we’ve got by a long shot.”

Roaoo turned to Tonneson. “What do you think of that assessment?”

“I think it’s a fair one, actually,” said the colonel.

Roaoo pursed his lips. “Hmm. Very good. Well then, carry on.” And he walked away with a thoughtful look on his face.

Bethel wondered about Roaoo’s sudden interest in trackers. Did he have a special assignment for Hassing, perhaps? Actually, he didn’t give a toss. His stomach was gurgling, reminding him that he hadn’t yet given it breakfast. He made for the chuckwagons, slowing only when he noticed Khela propped up against a box of supplies, writing furiously. Against his better judgement, he plopped his arse down next to hers.

“Hello Bethel,” said Khela, not looking at him.

He craned his neck to get a look at her parchment. “What are you working on? A new piece?”

“Sort of.” Khela blew away some specks of dust that had settled in the margins. She cleared her throat. “So, tell me how this sounds, all right?”

“Yep,” said Bethel.

“Right. Here goes. ‘Although the victim remains ambulant, both sight and mobility are drastically curtailed. Circulation and breathing appear to be arrested entirely. There is currently no evidence to support it, but notable scholars suggest these are all indicators of the ‘life force’ having been extracted, either partially or fully.’”

Bethel snorted. “Sounds a bit like a girl I used to go out with.”

“Ha ha,” said Khela, rolling her eyes. “Very funny. I hope you don’t mean me?”

“No, not you. And anyway, it sounds good. Roaoo is going to love it.”

“Think so?” She sounded hopeful.

“Oh yeah. He really gets off on all that life force extraction stuff. So much so he’ll probably read it one-handed, if you know what I mean.”

Khela sighed. “Ugh. You know, Bethel, I could do without your sarcasm right now. I’ve had a rough morning.”

“I’ll bet you did,” said Bethel, smirking.

“Fuck off.” She shoved the parchment into a satchel with a lot more force than seemed necessary. “I just wanted to talk shop, but clearly that’s not going to happen.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you, though?”

Bethel grinned. “Actually, no. Not really.”

“Oh, screw you!” hissed Khela, her lip twitching the way it always did when she was furious. “If you just came here to make fun of me, don’t. Go away. Dealing with your jealousy’s not something I could be bothered with at the moment.”

“Dealing with my what?”

“You heard me.”

Bethel narrowed his eyes at her. “Did you say jealousy?”

“Yep.”

“Well,” he said, folding his arms. “For your information, I’m not jealous.”

Khela’s eyebrows went up. “Oh yeah? Just be honest. If that’s even possible.”

“If that’s even poss–? Oh, and just what am I supposed to be jealous of, exactly?”

“Oh, come on, Bethel! Like I have to say it.”

“Nope. I don’t get jealous.”

“Yeah, right. You get all funny when the soldiers so much as look at me. You must be livid now that I let their chief get a whole lot further, huh?”

“Nah,” said Bethel, shrugging. “Frankly, I couldn’t care less about you and Tonneson.”

“Uh huh.”

“No. Really, I don’t care at all.”

“Really? I can see it in your eyes, Bethel. Your jealousy is practically eating you alive.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Ugh. Whatever, Bethel.” Khela turned to face the other way.

Neither of them said anything for a while. Bethel should have just walked away, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from opening his mouth again and making things a whole lot worse. “Eh, I’ll tell you something I’m not jealous of,” he said, unfolding his arms. “I’m not jealous of having never screamed, ‘Oh baby, you’re making my pussy clench!’ while fucking a dude in a tent while my boss and my ex are standing right outside.”

Khela spun to face him. “I knew it! Go on, then. Get it all out, Bethel. You know you want to.”

“Seriously, though, what the fuck were you thinking? In the middle of the camp? In broad daylight? With Tonneson?” He realised too late that he’d more or less spat out the last word.

“You’re making it sound like it was out in the open for all to see! It wasn’t. We were alone, in a tent, and we didn’t think anyone would care. And I wasn’t thinking, was I? I mean, obviously I wasn’t. Neither of us were.”

“You’re going to be the butt of a lot of jokes now, you know.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” said Khela, giving him a sour look.

“Yeah, you really messed up this time.”

“Come on, Bethel, it’s not that bad. Anyway, it wasn’t just me who messed up. Tonneson will be the butt of a lot of jokes, too.”

“Actually no, he won’t. Not really.”

Khela’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean, he won’t?”

“I mean, he really won’t,” said Bethel, shaking his head. “You don’t know guys, obviously. Oh yeah, I mean maybe they will snigger behind his back a little, but not in the same way they’ll be laughing about you. Actually, I’m pretty sure they’ll think he’s even more of a legend than they do now. But you? Eh, not so much.”

“Oh, great!” said Khela, throwing her hands up. “That’s just great. I should have known, huh? I guess that’s just so fucking typical of men, isn’t it?”

Bethel grinned. “Heh. Yeah, it is.”

“So, this all means… what? That I’m a slut to be mocked, but he’s some kind of exemplar?”

“I guess. Basically, yeah…”

“That’s bullshit. Why’s it different for me?”

“Dunno,” said Bethel, shrugging. “It just is.”

“No, really. Explain why it’s different because I’m a girl? I mean, you’re banging Orly and probably all the other chuckwagon whores, aren’t you? Explain to me why no one’s mocking you for that?” Khela gestured at Bethel’s crotch. “I’m surprised you haven’t worn that thing down to a nub, by the way.”

“Hey, why is this about me all of a sudden?” asked Bethel, cocking his head to the side. “Huh? Are you jealous or something?”

“Jealous? Of you? No.”

Bethel laughed, but there was no mirth in it. He raised his eyebrow in an exaggerated way and waggled his head from side to side. “Oh yeah?” he said, doing his best to mimic her voice. “Just be honest. If that’s possible.”

“There’s a big difference between feeling jealous and being cheated on.”

Bethel rolled his eyes. “Ugh, I knew it would come back to this if I hung around here long enough.”

“Well, you started it!”

“I did not!”

“Sure. Whatever.”

“Shit.” Bethel blew out his cheeks. “I cheated. Did you think I’d forgotten? Well, I hadn’t! But why are you bringing it up now? What does it have to do with anything? And how many times have we been over it? You had every right to be angry. We even broke up because of it, remember? It was a reaaally long time ago.”

“It wasn’t all that long ago, Bethel.”

“Well it seems like a long time ago.”

“Yeah, but you cheated on me with her. The fucking fugitive.”

“So?”

“So? You’re kidding me, right?”

Bethel made a face. “Oh, come on, Khel! Be fair. There’s no way I could have known about her back then, could I?” He gestured around the camp. “I didn’t know what she was going to do. I had no idea any of this was going to happen.”

“What was the attraction, anyway? You never told me.”

Bethel nearly choked on his irritation. “Shit, Khel, we’ve been over this a thousand times at least. There was no real attraction. It just... I don’t know, it just kinda happened. It didn’t mean anything.”

Khela exhaled forcefully. “Ugh. Such a cliché. And if you really believe that, then obviously I meant even less to you.”

“Augh!” shouted Bethel. “What the shit, Khel? I can’t believe we’re even talking about this. Again! It’s ancient history. And I’m not going to defend what I did, even now. I was a dickhead. I said I was sorry then and I meant it, but I don’t see why I should have to keep on apologising. We’re not even together, anyway, so…”

Khela looked the other way. “You still are a dickhead.”

Bethel took a deep breath. “Everybody’s entitled to their opinion.”

“Maybe you should just go.”

“You know, I can’t help but wonder why you’re still so upset about this, why you even brought it up. It’s not because you still have, I dunno, feelings... for me, is it?”

“No,” said Khela, turning on him, eyes flashing. “Definitely not.”

“So, what’s the problem, then? If you’ve moved on, you’ve moved on. Or… are you not actually with Tonneson or something?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“Well, I would,” said Bethel, trying on his best sardonic grin, “but it’s a bit difficult given your penchant for spectators.”

Khela’s jaw dropped. “And so we’re back to that again?”

Bethel shrugged. “So, what’s the attraction anyway? You never told me.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re not. And I don’t want to talk about this with you anymore, Bethel. You should go. I’d actually like to get on with my work, if you don’t mind.”

“Aw, come on,” said Bethel, poking her with a finger. “What’s the harm if neither of us is jealous of the other? Go on, tell me–what does he have that I don’t? Is it because he’s so fair and twice my size and he’s got all those muscles and stuff? I mean, I can’t really compete with all that, I guess.”

“All right, fine,” said Khela, a big fake smile plastered on her face. “You really wanna know, Bethel?”

Bethel hesitated. “Yes,” he said, meaning no.

Khela put her hands together, and then pulled them slowly apart until there was nearly an arm’s length of space in between. “That,” she said, arching an eyebrow, “is the attraction. Compared to him, you’re hung like a mouse.”

“Cheap shot,” said Bethel, swallowing the urge to spit in her face. “I thought you were better than that.”

“What can I say? I’ve been taking lessons from the master.”

“Yeah?” He got up, trying to think of something clever to say, something cutting. “All right. Well. I know people with bigger tits than yours. You’ll come to regret this.” He stood there for a few moments, analysing what had just come out of his mouth. As far as comebacks went, it wasn’t exactly a zinger. In fact, it didn’t even make sense. And though he’d have preferred not to leave right after uttering something so dumb, he did.

Khela laughed at his back, exultant. It made him feel even smaller.

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