The kitten raised a dainty hind leg in the air with her rear pointed at Cita while she bathed vigorously. He watched, resigned, at Bilal's bedside. His head rested on the patchwork quilt as he looked past the aloof kitten to Bilal's blank face.
"It isn't the same blank as before, though," he murmured, trying to drown the moist sounds yet not wake Bilal. "All those times I said something that didn't make sense to him, and he would just look at me."
Cita chuckled, and the kitten paused her grooming to glare at him.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you." Cita extended his fingers to scratch the kitten.
She moved out of arm's reach and went back to bathing.
"I must be growing on you — you didn't hiss that time."
Cita rubbed an eye, then scratched his scalp. He looked around the room the Peacefallows had lent Bilal.
It was small enough to be cozy, with room for the sturdy wood-framed bed and a hard wooden chair. A cedar chest at the foot of the bed provided the only storage and took up the rest of the floor-space not required to open the door. A window, shutters open wide to the afternoon air, occupied the wall above the chest.
Cita had cleaned Bilal's glaive and then propped it in the corner. He'd inspected his bow and arrows. They lay on top of the trunk where he'd placed them when he ran out of distractions. His beloved daggers were polished, sharpened, and tucked back in their sheaths. Now he sat, resting his throbbing head, and waited.
**
"You weren't born blind." Cita's mind scrambled through snippets that had been told to him and that he'd overheard. "What did you do? Why did she blind you?"
The healer remained mute, clutching her head.
"Is she that fickle?" His fists clenched and unclenched, noticing a strange tackiness. He looked down. 'Blood. Bilal's blood.' "If Bilal answers to something that cruel —"
"It doesn't matter," Rashida snarled. She rose to her feet and pulled herself to her full height. Her chin popped into the air; Cita was momentarily distracted by his unobstructed view of her flaring nostrils.
"The Lady Staryu is benevolent and kind. She grants blessings as she sees fit." Rashida glared down at Cita. "You? You are not worthy to touch the hem of her garment. And you are no replacement for Anasz."
She strode away without glancing back, accompanied by a harsh rap as her staff caromed off the barn's corner.
**
"My butt's sore. Wish this chair had some padding." Cita moved his head enough to inspect the pillows that propped Bilal on his side. More pillows supported the wing.
"Don't even think about adjusting the pillows again," Rashida said as she came through the door with a balanced tray in one hand. "He's fine. You need to learn to leave well enough alone."
She swanned across the room and set the tray on the bed, forcing Cita to sit up.
"Here." She handed Cita a mug from the tray. Another steaming cup remained in place.
He sniffed the mug in hand. It smelled like poultry. Bits of green leaves floated in it. His stomach growled, though he wasn't sure if it was in hunger or protest.
"What about Bilal?" he asked. "He needs to eat, too."
"If he has not awoken by himself before this evening, we will wake him. Rest is the best healer now." Rashida said. She set the tray on the bed.
"Then why hasn't he woken up?" Cita asked again. He asked every time Rashida came to check on Bilal. Cita heard her patience snapping thread by thread.
She glared in his direction.
Cita looked into the mug again. 'The last drink she gave me was fine.' He sipped the broth. 'Tastes like ashes with a hint of chicken.' He grimaced and dared a larger swallow. 'Wonder if this will stay down?'
"My Lady Staryu is merciful and chooses not to punish him further." Rashida's tone tiptoed through a not-so metaphorical minefield. "She asks only that he humble himself once he wakes."
Cita bit his lip. 'But it's not his fault.'
"He hasn't approached the Lady since he lost his wing. So She says," Rashida continued, lips twisting as if tasting something bitter. "Calling on her now may have thrown him back to that. From my experience … one doesn't walk away from the Goddess's calling without cause."
Rashida straightened. "Drink your broth, and don't neglect your tea. After, you might consider returning to your room to rest. You'll give yourself a crick if you try to sleep in that chair and don't come complaining to me if you do."
She strode from the room, abandoning the tray.
Cita's head throbbed with renewed force. He almost dropped his forehead to rest on the quilt again but remembered in time that the tea was there. Heedless of his restive stomach, he drained the last of the cooling broth and set the empty mug on the tray before moving both to the chest's lid. Cita paused, looking at the tea.
'Maybe it would help. But Rashida is really pushy about sleep.' Cita left the mug where it was and sat back in his chair.
The kitten jumped back up and curled up under Bilal's chin.
"Where did you get off to?" Cita asked.
She ignored him. A throbbing purr filled the room, complementing the hazy afternoon sunlight streaming through the window.
Cita stared out at the fluffy, sheeplike clouds drifting beyond the stockade until his eyes grew heavy. He squeezed them shut and opened them wide. It didn't help. He pushed off the chair and tried to walk off the sleepiness, but his legs were uncoordinated and uncooperative. He sprawled on the floor with a thump.
The purr stopped before resuming at a higher volume.
Cita attempted to push himself off the floor. His arms reacted like boiled spaghetti. Despite his struggles, a troubled sleep overtook him.
"I guess it wasn't the tea this time," he mumbled as darkness engulfed him.
*****
"You've got to stop doing that," Aki remarked.
"Doing what?" Cita mumbled. He pried himself off the squishy brown surface. "This place again?"
"Yeah. What did you expect?" Aki's ribs weren't so blatant beneath his vest, and he twirled his daggers with nimble fingers. He stared at something on the ground. "I'll take care of it. Like I told her I would."
"What? No!" Cita protested, remembering Aki's promise to Rashida. "If you do that, Bilal … Bilal will never trust me again." A fuzzy image of Bilal frowning in front of a sturdy door flitted through Cita's mind.
"Trust?" Aki scoffed. "Trust lets someone close enough to stab you in the back. Just like him." He stabbed downward with his long dagger.
Cita clambered to his feet and stumbled over. Mr. Smith was bound to an x-shaped cross of wood embedded deep in the beast's flesh. A gag prevented him from speaking, but his shadowy glare spoke volumes. A fresh red stain darkened his crisp suit.
"You let him loose?" Cita asked.
Aki shook his head. "He always gets loose. I can keep him here. For now, anyway. But …"
"But?" Cita prompted.
"But that leaves the other unwatched. And you've been stirring things up."
Cita jerked, staring at Aki.
"It's … he … is sleeping. Mostly. But whenever you remember something, he gets restless." Aki heaved a sigh. "And you have to remember if we're going to get home."
"I remember … some things. Mr. Smith …"
"Yeah, that's the start of it. Then James. Then Tobias."
Cita doubled over. Each name felt like a dagger through his skull.
"And there we are," Aki sighed.
Cita ground a palm to his eye socket. "J-James? What about James?"
"I can't tell you, remember?"
"Fine. I'll remember on my own," Cita snarled. "You watch him. Leave this 'other' to me. Rashida, too."
Aki snorted and glanced sidelong at Cita. "All right. Start with the forest. Maybe destroy it, if you've got the balls."
A blue haze enveloped Cita and he felt as though he were falling. Cita blinked, trying to clear his vision. He saw nothing but brown swirls. He blinked again.
The swirls resolved into the grain of the wooden floor, solid beneath him. His brain felt like a bicycle with a derailed chain as he tried to track.
"Cita? Why are you on the floor?"
Cita blinked again, trying to place that familiar, dry voice. He rolled over and saw that he had been face-down on the floor. He looked toward the bed and saw Bilal awkwardly trying to sit up around all the pillows.
"Bilal! You're awake!" Cita sat up so fast his head spun, and he pressed his palms to his head.
"Yes. Of course, I am awake. As are you." Bilal's stomach growled. "It must be dinnertime. Is everyone eating in the kitchen?"
"Uh, probably? It may be later than that," Cita guessed, looking out the window at the swathe of stars illuminating the night. His dizziness subsided, so he scrambled to his feet. "We could go down and find out." He glanced at the mugs. "I should take these down, anyway."
Bilal stretched and started to pull back the quilt. He blinked down at himself and lowered the quilt. "Cita, where are my pants?"
Cita laughed at the role reversal, but the laughter soon turned to uncontrolled tears.
Bilal looked at him in alarm. "Cita …"
"Don't … don't do that again, Bilal. I turned around, and you were covered in blood. I thought … I thought you were dead." Cita struggled to stem the tears that flowed down his face. "Whatever else, I'm not worth that."
Golden eyes met red-orange. Bilal sighed. "You have such potential. If you could only see that. In some ways, you are as blind as Rashida. I know the root of her blindness, but I have yet to find yours."
Cita froze. 'I can't tell him. If he knows, he will despise me.' He started pulling crockery and weapons from the top of the chest.
"I think your pack is in here. Is there a spare set of pants?"