The Claimed: Rashika's Resistance

Chapter 9: Human

Just five minutes into the fight, the wooden blade tapped my neck.

I dropped my own blade and dipped my head in acknowledgement. "Nice work."

A cheer erupted from the audience — Pamil, who already sipped prak on a patio chair though the sun still blazed high above the courtyard. "That's it, Pim! You finally beat her!"

Pim's brow furrowed, and his blade drifted down from my neck as if without any direction from his brain. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean? You beat me. You should be celebrating."

"I haven't beaten you in months."

"Then all the more reason to celebrate."

Pim stood silent and motionless, lips twisted to the side, but Pamil dropped his mug to the table with a bellowed laugh. "I don't know why I'm the only one commemorating this occasion with a drink. Sounds like you both have reason to celebrate. Pim finally beat Epsa, and Epsa finally outsmarted that rebel bitch."

I winced for just a second before contorting my expression into a smile. Pamil returned the smile. Pim's brow furrowed further.

"Epsa," said Pim, "The dozen prisoners taken from that temple could be the key to bringing down the Resistance. And the King won't harm them if they prove innocent."

Pamil snickered, leaning back in the chair and running a hand through his dark curls. "Well, as innocent as a Lesser God worshipper can be, you mean."

"Right," said Pim, flashing Pamil a smile as strained as my own. Then he cleared his throat and turned his attention to me once more. "Epsa, now that the Resistance has been subdued, did you tell the King about our little... situation?"

I shook my head. "I tried to tell him this morning, but I couldn't find him. I'll look for him again as soon as I go back inside."

Pim gave a slow nod. "Ah. But... but you do still think it's a good —"

A splash and a cry interrupted Pim, and all three of us spun toward the fountain. When black curls bobbed above the circle of stones, I darted toward the fountain and snatched the small boy out of the water.

"Makari! What in the seven hells are you doing in the fountain? You could slip and hit your head."

Gaze downcast and lower lip pinched between his teeth, he lifted the toy in his hands for me to see — a lion with a skin of deer hide. Soggy sawdust protruded from the ripped seam where one of its front legs should have been.

"The Three-Legged Lion wanted to go swimming."

I cradled him into my chest and huffed a laugh that fluffed his wet curls. The water from his clothing seeped into mine, drenching my tunic.

"No, Makari. That lion cannot swim."

"Why?" His voice was muffled by my tunic. "Because he only has three legs?"

"No, because she doesn't like water. Look, her insides are coming out. Anyway, wasn't Honey supposed to put you back in your crib after lunch?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She wasn't there."

"Hmm. Well let's get you dried off and back in your crib." I started toward the door but then halted halfway and turned back toward Pim.

"Pim, I still have..." My eyes flitted to Pamil, but he remained absorbed in guzzling prak. "Something of yours. Would you like it back?"

Pim flicked a casual wrist, though his shoulders bunched more than usual. "Na, you can keep it. Maybe you'll need it again."

I paused one moment longer, suddenly overly aware of the pendant's weight inside my pocket. Not because I carried a false god but because of my own lie.