Wednesday, September 18
Amo was on the streets at dawn, pink light diffuse through the blizzard and the clouds of steam as a city full of boilers rumbled and hissed to life. Amo dodged autocarriages in the streets as they hurried from the cathedral where they lived with Sgathaich to the officer housing near where Pharaul’s southern walls were lined with cannons to fire into the Rhyqir valley below. Just past a road lined with the armored autocarriages of Pharaul’s horseless cavalry, Amo hopped over a decorative railing and clicked their knuckles against a window wet with melted ice.
When the window opened, the heat from inside billowed out, and Indirk squinted sullenly at the dawnlight. Her hair was a tangled mess like iron shavings magnetized to her scalp, her eyes dark. “Fuck off. I’m hungover.”
“We ship out in two hours,” Amo smiled. “Put your pants on. I’ll buy breakfast.”
Once Indirk had a plate of eggs and steamed root vegetables next to a cup of steaming coffee, the café a warmly quiet murmur beneath the gurgling of the boiler pipes on the walls, Amo reached across the table and rested a hand on Indirk’s arm. “Need to ask you something.”
She stiffened and straightened some, frowning deeply. “You better not say you’re in love with me or something.”
Amo shook their head. “You wish. No. Serious question. Why’d you say you’d never see it again?”
Indirk had tossed a red woolen hat over her head instead of doing her hair, and it bunched up a bit when her brow knotted. She pushed Amo’s hand off her arm. “What are you talking about?”
“The blizzard. The avalanche. You said you’d never see it again.” Amo joined their hands on their own coffee. People came and went, a parade of coats of all kinds, be they great swaths of dyed wool or stiff columns of fur-lined suede, drinking quick cups of coffee or leaving with paper-wrapped pastries full of meat and cheese. Amo said, “Indirk, you’ve gone on missions before, and you’ve come back. You just got back. You’ll get back again.”
“I know that,” she said in annoyance. “I was drunk.”
“Which makes you honest. Something slipped out, right? Something you didn’t mean to say?”
“Fuck.” Indirk looked at the ceiling, then looked out the window. The view out this window had changed while she was gone. There had once been a library across the street, a schoolhouse beside it. The magic weapons of the Nor Sator League – wielded seemingly by sorcerers of Gray Watch – had swallowed those buildings whole. Now Indirk looked out on ground with craters cut out of it, the perfectly circular bites taken by the war, and beyond that to where some blue sky peeked through the clouds of the blizzard. She said, “You know, it is possible to know things about the future.”
“Maybe if you’re a sorcerer,” Amo said flatly, blinked at Indirk’s deepening frown, and then said, “Oh, you serious? Nobody in this city has that kind of magic. Not even Sgathaich.”
“Call it a gut feeling, then.” Indirk shrugged. “I don’t think I’m gonna die or anything. But every time I get sent out there on a mission, I get less time when I get back. I get sent out again so quick. I was only back for a few days this time. Maybe now I don’t even come back at all. Maybe I get stuck. Maybe I don’t get back. Maybe I won’t want to come back.”
“Wait, what?” Amo shook their head. “Won’t want to? Why wouldn’t you want to? You love Pharaul.”
“You love Pharaul. You love this place so much, don’t you? So much you can’t understand that maybe it’s okay to not come back?”
“I… Hey.” Amo tapped the table. “Hey, this isn’t about me. What are you talking about? Remember, I’m going with you this time. We’ll be out there together. We’ll be okay.”
Indirk groaned in exasperation, muttering, “By Wind and Sunfire, Amo, I fucking love you, but I’m…” She brushed at her face. “I’m not scared, Amo. I’m not worried. I just get the feeling that maybe I’m not coming back to this place this time. And I might be okay with that.”
“I don’t understand.” Amo searched her expression for some clue. “Why’s it okay to not come home?”
Indirk pondered and looked at her coffee, which was already getting cold. She looked at the frost on the windows. She said, “I think that’s enough.”
“Huh?”
“It’s okay if you don’t understand why it’s okay. You don’t need to. Just.” She stood. “Just don’t worry about it. Stop thinking so damn hard about everything. We’ve got to leave. Go say goodbye to your mom. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”
