GRAVESKIES

Chapter 4

Next morning, the three deviants left the infirmary. When she entered the canteen, Willow got applauded and congratulated, as she often did, as was usual for warriors who achieved great feats during a particular confrontation. Ryujin had fought well too, but her splintering chaos was no match for the efficiency Willow activated with. Willow would always have a higher victim count. She was the most advantageous, practical, nearly infallible choice.

On the newspaper front page had been posted a picture of Colonel Lubov at the end of his Walk of Glory. His admirers had carried him across the city, from the Temple of Right to the Repertoire. In the snapshot, he wore heavy makeup and his left cheekbone was swollen, but Ryu didn't mind that.

"Oh my god, I'm close! I'm close! I'm so close to being buried in this huge stack of paperwork General Kran has given me!"

"Sawyer, I think I might actually hate you," Willow said, before taking a large bite from her sandwich.

Sawyer had finally left the infirmary, although he was temporarily confined to a wheelchair. General Kran, that lovely, lovely man, had immediately found work for him to do: writen reports on the prisoner intervention for their overwatchers in Axis, the Akan Capital.

"You're so mean when you hang out with Ryu."

Ryujin swatted at his face with her newspaper. "We make each other better, loser," she winked.

"More like corrupt each other."

"Ryu will probably dump us, anyway. Since Storyteller is coming back today."

Storyteller was the Supreme Commander of the Akan military, and she could make people forget. That morning, the Commander would be decorating the soldiers in their Division. They'd earned an award for the work they'd done fighting the Varians.

"She's not coming back, for fuck's sake," Ryujin groaned over their laughter, hunching above the breakfast table. "Just giving a speech."

"We all know she gave you abandonment issues when she left."

Ryujin glared. "Willow. No. Bad Willow."

"Is she wrong, though?"

Before she'd become Supreme Commander, working directly under the Emperor, Storyteller and Ryujin had been close. Now, they barely saw each other, except for when Ryu's division was in the Capital. But today, the Supreme Commander had returned and she would decorate the Riverfield Division. Each division was named after a distinctive element, and their distinctive element was Willow's power. At her departure, battlegrounds never looked the same.

Two hours later, the soldiers postured in the valley beyond the base camp. Earth spread green and vibrant, glimmering with light and dew under their dirty boots. A wooden stage had been raised, polished and decked with flowers. Thousands of deviants waited stiffly in position—East-facing, monochromatic pillars in black. They wore their freshly scrubbed suits of leather, metal and cotton. A path for Storyteller to cross split the crowd.

Ryu chewed on her fingernails. Sawyer wasn't entirely wrong-she and Willow influenced each other. They had always appropriated little gestures, ticks and tells from one another. For years, they had both tied their shoes with a knot instead if a bow. Willow had been the first to chew her fingernails; now only Ryu had stuck with the habit after all those years.

Ryu's fingers wrapped around her honorary sword, made entirely of transparent crystal with flowers frozen inside, like they were immortalized in a herbarium. Beautiful, but it could cut a man down- crisp, sharpened crystal. Everyone had honorary weapons for ceremonies; a collection of colors and lights and shades. Some were made of glass and filled up with water. Some were built from stone. When she was younger, she'd thought hers was a prissy sword ("Why can't there be bones in it? I want bones in it!") but now she saw its glamour.