The Enterprise of Death - Jesse Bullington [114]
“Riiiiiight.” Monique was giving Awa a strange look, so Awa hurriedly went on.
“They start fires. Their mother whispers the word for fire to them, and they immolate themselves, but if there’s no tinder atop them they just go out again before they hatch. They need a mother to build a nest for them to burn up as they hatch, to help them leave their eggs. I don’t know how many years they’ve been waiting for someone to help them hatch, and I was going to, but I owe you so much, and—”
“What in fuck, Awa? Really? I think you’ve maybe been drinkin a bit—”
“Watch,” said Awa firmly, dropping one of the eggs onto the metal plate the candles were burning on. “Lean in, lean in … fire.”
The round stone flashed white-hot, the brilliance making their eyes water, and almost at once the two candles on the plate toppled over, their bases melted to liquid in an instant. Already the little stone was extinguished, a thread of black smoke rising up from it, and Monique stumbled backwards away from the table, the room going dark as the fallen candles went out. By the time Monique relit the candles Awa had repacked her things, including the one salamander egg she was keeping for herself.
“Just focus on the one you want to light, focus and address it like you were telling someone something instead of addressing a room, and it’ll light right up. But when you’re done build them a nest, and let them go. Right?”
“Right, Awa, right,” said Monique, staring at the box. “Just say … fire ?” Monique whispered the last word, and Awa smiled.
“Perfect. Take care of them, Mo, and take care of yourself.” Awa shouldered her bag, eager to be off.
“Aye, an’ you. Fill your bag from the larder, an’ all the stern-water you want, an’, an’, fuck, I dunno, be careful?”
“Of course!”
“Will you, er, are you seein Manuel anytime soon?”
“I …” Everything had been happening so quickly that she had not thought about it. “I’d like to, very much, but I don’t know. If I don’t, don’t get to see him, you’ll tell him that I love him, won’t you?”
“What?!”
“Tell him that I love him.” Awa nodded sadly, realizing she might well never see Monique again, either. “And I love you, Monique. Be happy.”
“I—” Awa threw her arms around the giantess, who quieted at her embrace, and they held each other tightly for a time, neither speaking. Then Awa sighed and released Monique, each wiping their cheeks as they straightened up.
“She’s asleep.” Awa winked at Monique as she opened the door and saw the woman she had kicked out dozing on the floor.
“Fuck me.” Monique frowned. “Forgot about’er.”
“Goodbye, Monique,” said Awa, giving her a peck on the cheek, and then the necromancer disappeared down the dark hallway.
The only ones awake in the tavern were Dario, Merritt, and Chloé, who sat drinking at a table. Awa strode directly up to the trio, who had quieted at her arrival on the stair, and informed Dario she would be taking food and drink. She set to packing rations while he scuttled upstairs to clear it with Monique, and then she turned to Chloé.
“I’m off to find something I should have gone after a long time ago,” Awa told Chloé.
“Your Omorose?” The girl crossed her arms.
“What? No! She, she hates me, and I can’t say that I’m terribly fond of her, now that I’ve had ample time to consider things.”
“Oh.” Chloé looked at Awa’s bulging satchel. “What are you after, then?”
“The most important thing there is. If I succeed it’ll mean I can really take care of you, forever, and not be a drunk layabout hiding in a rabbithole. I’ll, I’ll really be able to take care of you.”
“Can I come?” There was no hesitation in Chloé’s voice.
“I …” Awa had not seriously considered the girl accepting an invitation, let alone inviting herself along. “I hadn’t—”
“She was going, me was going,” said Merritt, sitting straighter in his chair and blinking at Awa. “We three was going.”
“No,” said Awa, looking at Chloé. “No fucking way.”
“Awa,” said Chloé, sliding out of her chair and