Sylah, do you know how many times I’ve had to help you home?
Sylah shrugged, refusing to feel shame.
No, you wouldn’t remember, and if you don’t remember that, do you think it’s possible that at some point during the hundreds of journeys, you might have let something slip?
Shit.
“Who knows?”
You have few friends. I’m not sure whether that makes you lucky or not.
Sylah’s face puckered with the stress of the last few strikes, and she used her fingers to push the frown lines away.
Now will you tell me what you’re doing here?
“Not right now, it’s a long story.” Sylah’s eyes flickered to the cloisters.
Your mother, and that friend of yours. You need to tell them you’re alive.
Sylah winced. “I will, but first I need to make sure that’s still the case.” An officer came in from the main gate and sent a look their way. Sylah’s muscles trembled, and it wasn’t just from withdrawal.
“Can you tell them? Tell them I’m alive?”
Hassa rolled her eyes. Your mother is just the worst, though. She doesn’t understand me and doesn’t even try to. She tried to sweep me away with a broom this morning.
“I know, I’m sorry.” It was the type of apology that one person does for a collective. A pathetic assurance that everyone was sorry for the bigotry committed, even if they didn’t show it. It was the apology of the bystander, and Sylah regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.
Hassa frowned. Go. Tell me more later.
Sylah nodded and ran back into the duty office line.
—
“Name?” The master of duty peered down at her. She was spiky and twiglike, a joba tree in winter.
“Sylah of Ood-Adab.” The taste of her verd leaf tea still filled her mouth and she resisted spitting on the floor.
The master of duty’s gaze dribbled down the list in front of her. Sylah practiced her pout like Anoor taught her.
“No, I’m afraid you’re not in the servant’s registry.”
“Master, please can you check again, I have this letter and I’ve traveled so far.” Sylah stuffed the letter through the bars of the counter with shaking hands. Damn those joba seeds.
The master snatched the letter away from her with a hiss.
“Elsari residence?” Her branches quivered.
“Yes, Master.”
“Kika, you heard anything from above about a new servant joining the Elsari residence?” She looked at the paper in front of her. “Anoor. Yes, that one. No?”
Sylah couldn’t hear Kika’s response.
“Says here she was instructed to come. No, not the warden, the daughter…Anoor. Yes, her…No I haven’t heard either.” A sly smile crept onto the bark of her face. “Sorry, miss, no job for you here.”
Sylah was stumped. It was meant to go easier than this. She felt herself get hot with anger as the master of duty waved a hand at her to move out of the queue. This was her opportunity to leave, ditch Anoor and go back to her old life.
“Oh, Sylah, there you are!” Anoor appeared behind her in the queue. She gave Sylah a hug, which she half returned. “Is there some trouble here, Master?”