Master Nuhan of the guild of knowledge has been reported missing. His husband claimed that he never returned home from teaching his last class in bloodwerk. An additional patrol will be sent out to scour the area.
—Missing person report filed by Officer Wahal, year 421
The sharp smell of vinegar tickled Anoor’s nose. Was it real? Or was the darkness playing tricks on her again? Light moved on the other side of her eyelids, but it had done that before. She cracked open an eye. Yes, that was sunlight. She squeezed them shut against the brightness.
A shadow moved in front of her vision.
“Stop playing dead.” Sylah’s drawl was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. When she opened her eyes again, Sylah’s face filled her vision. She was smiling but her eyes had thick bags underneath, heavy with worry.
“Did I lose?” Anoor croaked, then coughed. Sylah handed her a cup of water, monitoring her slow intake.
“No, you didn’t lose. Maiden’s tits, you came out last.”
“I came first?” Anoor couldn’t believe it.
“Yes, you monkey bullock.”
“Will you stop swearing at me?”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
They grinned at each other. Sylah trailed a finger down Anoor’s face, her own gaze softening.
“Was it bad?”
Anoor didn’t lie: she nodded.
“But I built my fortress and lorded over it.” She gestured for Sylah, and she leaned on the bed to complete the embrace.
“I was so worried,” Sylah said into her hair.
“I made us yams.”
“What?”
“In the fortress I built. I made us plates and plates of fried yams.”
Sylah laughed, and Anoor was eager for her to make the sound again. She squeezed her tightly before releasing her.
“I feel all right, my throat is a bit sore.” Anoor pushed herself up and winced.
“What is it? Where hurts?” Sylah flapped around her like a mother hen.
“I’m fine…it’s just…”
“What, cramp? I can help.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I am dying for the privy,” Anoor cried, springing out of bed.
She heard Sylah laughing from the other side of the privy door for quite some time.
Anoor recovered in the infirmary for three days; she insisted she felt fine after one day, but both Sylah and Gorn stood firm on following the healer’s orders.
Something had shifted between Sylah and Gorn when Anoor went away. She wasn’t sure what, but it accentuated the similarities in their stubborn personalities. Although neither Gorn nor Sylah ever mentioned it, they had clearly devised a rota so that Anoor was never alone. She enjoyed waking up and seeing one or the other by her side. Even in the dead of night, Sylah’s snoring was a lullaby to Anoor’s restless dreams of darkness.