[Kiromir by @birdyboiwonder on twitter]

Kiromir 40

I watched Gaffriel jog to catch up with Thanus. I looked away for just a minute before he carried her off to the campers, her arms over his neck, face buried. I wished it were me, soothing her, but my first duty at that moment was to my people, and something terrible was going on. Rolyn hadn’t meant for that to slip. She knew Niala’s fire beforehand.

Was she pushing her towards the Grells? Was she playing another game? Was she just angry? With Niala and Thanus away, I could figure that out; I had work to do.

I slipped through the camps, not forcing a smile on my face but keeping my façade stern and dominant. My aura rose, and people looked up at me as I passed. I raised it on purpose because I didn’t want anyone around me at that moment. I made my first stop the tent to get my ‘list.’ Rolyn always had one made, but I wondered if they’d tossed it. Lila and I, the woman who kept the lists every year, knew one another. I had chased her fires once and found her burning flames unpalatable. She had bound the next night to a man she’d met not thirty minutes prior. I used to think less of her for it.

“Ah, Kiromir!” Lila said, digging through her little file.

She didn’t know. Great!

“And Niala’s, if you don’t mind. I want to review it.”

Lila handed me the list, then looked embarrassed when I asked for Niala’s.

“Well, we used to have one, but… Rolyn… She asked me to—Well, Rolyn thinks she’s going to be sent to the Cuervos in Mexico or the Nyota clan in Tanzania.” The language gap over the years made it difficult to migrate with them, so they often taught their men English as time went on if they couldn’t find a mate and sent them to our clans as a last measure. Sending Niala there, herself, would have been alienating and terrifying.

“Do you still have it?” I asked, hope in my expression.

“I won’t give it to her,” I promised, and she handed it over. There were older men listed—men as young as thirty and older than me. I blanched, and he nodded as if she agreed with me.

“She’s definitely not getting this,” I scathed before nodding thanks and slipping away.

I made a show of crumpling the list in my hand as I stormed off, then dipped my hand in a trashcan as I walked by it, palming the wad of paper before shoving my hands in my pockets. I considered the third degree of caution a good idea when something seemed amiss.

I am confused; therefore, something that I know is true is false. I remembered the line from one of Niala’s podcasts she listened to, Methods of Rationality and the boy wizard or something.

I know that they wanted Niala to bind in one of the highborn families, as several were in desperate need of strong blood, enough to risk her not being able to bear children.

I also know that Rolyn told Lila that Niala would be sent down to one of their clans. Niala didn’t speak Swahili or Spanish as they did. I thought about all the times I had been given lists and realized that not many Nyota women came, and I had never been matched with one of them. Hearing my mom talk about light-haired children made me look at my own brown locks and tawny skin, not quite the fair she wanted. My father didn’t have light skin, either. Our skin carried native hues, but Rolyn cared more for power than pallor back then.

I also knew that Niala’s wasn’t a halfbreed because something too true rang out about her form and features. Father knew about her tail, and I wonder if he’d ever told Rolyn. He probably did. Surely she’d be more interested in calling her ‘seraph’ instead.

I knew the Grells wanted her. I had personally gotten offers for her to come to spend a summer there and had outright refused. I wanted her to be old enough to consent to something like that. Also, I wanted that summertime migration experience for her. Hours after getting her first fire, though, she’d had her first summertime experience, chasing fires, and was both unlucky and lucky enough to have found someone who not only matched her but kept coming back for more. Fortunately, they weren’t old enough for the binding yet; at least Niala wasn’t. We thought Niala had been about four when we found her, and Gaff had just turned five.

I had to be casual, but I also had to keep up with my clan. So I made the rounds through the tents, watching as our children played among the ropes and flew to their hearts’ content with the Sentinel kids. Prim sat by, watching them. I waved to her, and she nodded at me. Niala and her used to have so much fun as children.

“It’s been a while. You’re growing up.” I commented. She looked at me with enough pleasantness. However, she appeared far more uncomfortable than she had a right to, and her eyes avoided mine.

“You found out about Niala’s list?” She asked. I shrugged.

“That they didn’t have one for her, or that the one they did have was full of dirty old men?” I spoke with as much of an even tone as possible.

“It’s for the good of the clan,” She spoke in quiet tones. The hairs on my neck raised. A bitter bite tainted her voice while her face set in a rictus cheerful smile.

“Prim? Do you know what’s going on?” I asked in the same quiet, pleasant tones. Her eyes didn’t match the cheerful expression on her face. It’s like she hoped I noticed the disconnect. Though her aura had a bubbly and excitable feeling, I grinned back at her. She poised herself, sweet and innocent, but the low words she spoke, she kept quiet, hoping nobody would hear.

“You’re getting her away from here, right? As soon as possible, right?”

I stayed quiet as she continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to spend more time with her, but I understand that she needed to leave?” She watched as a child, about six or seven, took a nosedive from one of the poles. Prim waited to see if they needed healing but turned back to me, her grin growing wide and eyes pleading.

“She’s not feeling well, and she’s leaving,” I spoke with a casual nod. Her aura died down, the bubbliness faded.

“Well, that’s not very good,” She said, stressing the last word.

“Oh, I see you have some scuffs on your hands. I’m a healer; let me help!” She said as she reached for my hand with a quick grab. She looked down at the minimal scratches and let her thumb roll over my palm in slow circles, nodding for me to pay attention. Her thumb spelled out words as she raised her other hand and held her fire close to, but not against, my cuts.

W-A-T-C-H-E-D

L-I-S-T-E-N-I-N-G

“Oh man, I think it’s sprained,” She commented with a pout.

N-I

D-A-N-G-E-R

“Oh really?” I asked.

“Oh definitely,” She responded, still holding her fires as her thumb moved again.

G-R-E-L-L

B-A-D

S-O-N-G

S-A-F-E

She looked up to me with all the seriousness she could muster as she let her green fire lick my cuts and quickly seal them.

“Thank you so very much,” I smiled with as much grace as I could manage. Rolyn had taught me that much. I had a duty to stay with my people, but Thanus needed to leave now.