Anyme, who resides in the sky,
Ruler of all, fealty to none,
Absolve us of our sins,
So we can join you forth,
In your nation above,
Forever remembering the wrath,
The Ending Fire wrought,
On those sinners, whose transgressions,
You traded, for their souls,
In your name we pray:
The blood, the power, the life.
—Prayer recited by the Abosom
“Gorn, I’m going to the library.” Anoor locked the assassin in and left. The sound of the girl keening through the dressing room door had made her wince. She needed to go out.
Gorn appeared in the hallway. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you.” The assassin had been suffering for two days, and Anoor feigned illness to take care of her. Anoor had noticed the red staining on her teeth from the moment they’d first met, but she hadn’t anticipated withdrawal like this. The symptoms roiled in on a sea of vomit, sweat, and tears. The draft Anoor was giving her was meant to lessen the effects of the cravings, but the vomiting and shaking still seemed horrific to Anoor.
The first night the girl fought phantoms in her mind, thrashing against her restraints until her wrists bled. Anoor removed them then, but when Anoor returned a strike later the girl started pulling her hair out at the root. Clumps of matted braids fell around the dressing room like dead leaves shedding in autumn.
Anoor winced at the memory. She’d had to shave the girl’s hair just to protect her.
“I’m going to the library,” Anoor repeated.
Gorn reached for her shawl hanging on a peg. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, I’ll be fine, I’ve got my papers in here, I’m just going to settle in for some studying.” Anoor patted her bag, feeling the bulge of the rolled-up map beneath her books. “Choice Day will come around quickly once the Aktibar’s over.” The lie was a simple one, but Anoor didn’t look Gorn in the eye.
Gorn opened her mouth to speak. Closed it. Tried again. “So it isn’t true then. That you signed up for the Aktibar?”
“Well…”
Gorn hissed, “That’s what you were doing? When you went for a walk around the courtyard? I thought you wanted some time alone, not to sneak your way to the sign-up sheet.”
Anoor lifted her chin. “I did not sneak. I walked in very calmly.”
Gorn exhaled and rubbed the back of her neck. “Oh, Anoor…”
“I’m going to the library.” Anoor stomped to the door.
“What for? You’ve chosen your guild, it seems,” Gorn said but Anoor didn’t respond. Gorn sighed in defeat, and when she spoke again she sounded weary and sad. “Do you need anything from the market today?”
“Yes, would you mind picking up more verd leaf and milk honey?”
“Still not sleeping?”
“And, Gorn,”—a thought came to mind—“would you stop by the cocoa stall and buy some chocolate?”