“You looked like you were trying to get lost.” Nadia had a strong, pretty face with wide eyes and a full mouth, and she wore her hair cropped short like the other soldiers. She’d been one of Tyr’s inner circle, so it made sense that she would have followed Nyx from the burial mounds. “Thought you might need someone to get lost with.”
“I think I need to be alone, Nadia.”
She shrugged. “You're usually glad for company when a battle is over.”
Nyx didn’t have to say that the only company he sought after a fight was Tyr’s. They’d sit together in a corner while everyone else danced and drank themselves half to death, or Nyx would read books to Tyr in his tent, squinting at the words by the light of their lantern.
Nadia touched Nyx’s arm. “Let’s find a place to sit down.”
Nyx let her pull him down a side street. Clouds billowed over the low buildings, and Nadia kept glancing up, frowning, as thunder rolled in the distance.
“I need to find a new weather witch,” she said. “The one near the barracks said it would be sunny for a week.”
“You and witches.” Nyx shook his head. “Do you remember in training when that one witch told you that you’d have luck in battle if you put a stone in your shoe, and you nearly lost your arm?”
“Nearly. Inearlylost my arm—but I didn’t lose it.” Nadia rolled her eyes. “It’s all magic, isn’t it? The gods gave witches their power. I’m not going to question them.”
“Luck isn’t magic.” Nyx stepped to the side as a group of children ran past, bare feet pounding on the cobblestones. “And the gods don’t care.”
Nadia made a sign of protection on her forehead. “Don’t talk like that about them. They might be listening.”
“Good. I hope they are.” Nyx could feel the dominance rising in his voice, but he couldn’t temper it. He thought of Tyr’s shroud, the way he’d gasped and shuddered when he died, how warm he’d been when they danced by the fire the night before. “I hope they can hear. A wound like that, it shouldn’t have killed him. He should be here. With us. Getting a drink at a bar instead of listening to one of his father’s lectures.”
“He always hated those,” Nadia said softly. “But Nyx. It was his stomach. You know no one can survive a stomach wound.”
“Tyr should have.” Nyx’s voice echoed in the narrow street. “I’m sorry, Nadia, but I just… I can’t be a good Iperian right now, and bow and scrape to the god of death like I owe him anything for taking Tyr from us. Death doesn’t deserve our respect. None of the gods do. If they’re real, they’ve abandoned us—or they’re beasts who don’t care what we do so long as we worship them properly.”
Nadia stepped back as though trying to distance herself from whatever retribution might rain down on Nyx. “You’re asking to be cursed.”
“I already am.” Nyx sighed when Nadia winced. “I’m not good company, Nadia. I can’t mourn him gracefully.”
Nadia took a careful step forward. “Death isn’t graceful, Nyx. No one said mourning has to be. Let’s get a drink for Tyr, maybe, and you can curse the gods until they burn the tavern down.”
“You’re humoring me,” Nyx muttered, and she had the gall to smile.
“Pretty much. Come on, I’ll show you the place where my cousin works. No one’ll know you there.”
The bar in question was in the middle of the city, near the public gardens. Fruit trees lined the streets, and children stood under them with baskets, picking the fruit before it fell. Nyx used to be one of them, running baskets of plums to dining houses and fruit sellers for extra coin when he wasn’t working in the palace. The children ignored Nyx, but they kept looking at the sky every time it thundered. The clouds were dark and heavy, but no rain fell, and Nyx entered the bar with Nadia to find tables full to bursting with people. He paused in the doorway, and Nadia looked back at him, pity in her eyes.
“I’ll get a table,” she said, then strode up to a man behind the bar. “Hey! Asshole.”
“Hey, bug-face,” the man said, smiling fondly. “How’s life?”
“Spending all day fighting tooth and nail so you can lie back with your seventeen boyfriends, Len.” Nadia leaned on the counter, and Len pushed her away with a finger on her forehead.
“Arms off. And it’s four boyfriends. Four. You overestimate me, cousin.”
Nadia smiled, and Nyx waited a few feet away, arms crossed. Nadia had always been the one who knew how to talk to people. Tyr was friendly and polite, but he tended to fall silent in a crowd, and Nyx couldn’t force himself to be cheerful just to get a drink or convince a farmer to lend out a barn for the night. Nadia was amiable enough to get them the barn, the drink, and a free dinner in the farmhouse to boot.
“You know who our commander was,” Nadia said, lowering her voice. “My friend here needs a place to get trashed in his memory. Quietly.”
Len glanced at Nyx. “I got a table in the back, behind the wine bottles.”
“Thanks. You’re not all bad.” Nadia leaned over the counter to kiss his cheek, and Len pushed her away. “Ingrate.”
“Go, before I change my mind.”
Nadia winked at Nyx and gestured him over, and Nyx followed her through the crowded barroom. The wine bottles were secure in a rack behind a partition, and Nadia took one as they passed, setting it down on an empty, slightly dusty table.
