The Mayaware's reign must end.
In a world of demonic beings with a hunger for human flesh and thirst for blood, Hesi Renen knows it well. When her siblings are taken to the harvesting farms, she must do everything she can to get them out, even if it...
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Only the sound of glass and wood knocking together echoed in the basement. Hesi ran her tongue over her teeth, cleansing the taste of maatsek tea off her mouth. Kharta, as usual, had his back to her, tinkering with his experiments and scrawling things on his parchment with chicken-like scrawls. Liquid gurgled in a boiling cauldron which he occasionally stirred with a wooden ladle.
"Are you still going on about that?" She blurted, her voice bouncing across the room. A stray breeze flitted through the wall's slits, rustling the potted plant's triangular leaves guarding the corner. "How much longer must I wait?"
He didn't whirl to her, jabbing his quill against his parchment in a series of dots. "If you keep barging in only to yammer about how boring the day was, maybe longer," he snapped. "Why are you here?"
She leaned against the table before stopping herself from lying on it again. A nap might tempt her—something she couldn't do now. Not when a man lingered an arm's length away, a man she knew nothing about apart from their shared goal. "Can't I visit a friend?" she reasoned. Depending on his answer, she would know how he viewed their relationship. If he saw through her lie, then she might give him less credit than he deserved.
He bought into it. Fool. "I'm honored, but I don't think you want to watch something more boring than Yobekh's lectures." He retrieved a vial from the racks and sniffed it. She didn't see if he winced or if he was satisfied with it.
She clicked her tongue and scrunched her nose. "Then hurry it up, genius," she replied. "I come here because I have to see what you are doing or if you are moving forward with your plan."
He lowered the vial, returning it to the rack. "I'm not a genius so stop calling me that," he answered. A beat passed. Two. Then, he blew a breath. Its weight alone told her plenty. He whirled to her. "Do you have a better idea?"
She resisted a smile. Now, they were talking. "You mentioned those ores that the Mayaware are weak against, those that can kill them." She jerked her chin, noting hard his eyes became when she brought back an earlier conversation. He must regret saying it now. "Where can we get them? If we fashioned a blade out of it, I can get you what we agreed on faster. It's better than your plan."
"Huurshe ores were rare in the market for as long as I remember. Berheqt ensured nothing remained after taking over Ser-Tehra," Kharta said. "Do you think I'm not searching for them as well? I can't place orders while working inside Berheqt. I'm not a fool to wave my flag in enemy territory."
She rolled her shoulders. "Maybe there are remaining mines due east," she reasoned. "Ser-Tehra couldn't be the only place abundant with huurshe, right?"
"We can only pray that is the case." His tone didn't inspire confidence, much less assurance. Silence coated the air, smothering her. The steward returned to his experiment, and the industrial sounds replaced their voices.
She turned away, perusing the notes scribbled on yellowing parchment strewn across the table she perched on. Behind her, the sound of scuffling and the stool pulling back rang. "Do you think the Mayaware are onto us?" she wondered aloud.
