Chapter Ten: And Why Should I Stay Behind?

The sunset hangs on a cloud; a golden storm of glittering sheaves, of fair, frail, fluttering leaves.
Hark to the voice calling my heart in the voice of the wind: its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone.

- Sarojini Naidu

Nina Novak knew a cave-in when she heard one.

The Allens girl was woken in the middle of the night by shouts in the corridor and the sound of panicked footsteps. She tore back her blanket and fell from her bed, reaching for shoes - did she have time for shoes?- even as her door was flung open by one of the rebels, Wick Harjo. Behind him, there was a flurry of motion in the hallway, girls running back and forth, rebels calling out to one another, Uzohola co-ordinating it all from her position on the stairs, her jaw clenched tight, her movements tight and control as she directed people hither-and-thither. Wick's eyes were slightly wild, but somehow Nina did not think that he looked particularly scared. Did he feed off the adrenaline? Nina consistently felt that was the man difference between rebels at home and rebels here - the latter seemed to almost crave revolution, action, danger. "Lady Nina. Assemble outside. Immediately!"

Nina asked, "What's going on?"

But Wick was already gone, moving down the hallway to the next room, the next Selected. It was a good thing, Nina thought darkly, that there were so few of them left. Made for an easier evacuation.

There were only two girls left on this floor out of five.

Packing light would make for an easier evacuation as well. Nina knew that - people who went back into the mines after the seams started to give, after the canary stopped singing, those were the people who never saw the sun again. She lunged towards her vanity to grab the framed picture of her family, yanked her jacket from the back of her door - did she have time for a jacket? - and carefully stowed the picture into an inner pocket of the garment, feeling her heart seem to thud against the glass of the frame with every pulse.

The girl with the room opposite Nina - Soledad Delrío, the lawyer - stumbled into the doorway, her eyes still bleary with sleep. "Nina?"

"I'm up," Nina said, automatically, almost robotically. "I'm awake. Sol, let's go, we have to go."

The rebels were starting to sound a little more panicked. Voices spiked. As Nina and Sol ran out into the hallway - no smoke, Nina thought distantly, no smoke and no heat, no debris and no gunfire, so why were they so worried? - she saw Demetri, still dressed as he had been for the Report, taking the steps two at a time as he sprinted upstairs. Even the king himself was getting involved? Things had to be serious.

Why hadn't they evacuated him first?

Uzohola was gesturing for the girls, reaching towards them like if the worst came to worst she was ready to shelter them with her body. "Nice and briskly, Lady Nina, Lady Soledad. Just a security drill, you're all doing wonderfully so far. Sorry to disturb your sleep like this..." She sounded light and chipper, like it was midday and she was complimenting them on a staged photograph. Nina might have almost believed her, if it hadn't been for the wildness in Wick's eyes, the panic in the rebels' voices as they shouted outside, the expression on Demetri's face.

Something was happening.

Nina pushed Sol ahead of her and together, the two girls ran down the stairs. It was easier said than done - the staircase was packed with people, and Sol had to hurdle a bag that one of the Selected had clearly abandoned midway down the steps when they thought better of trying to heft its weight through such an emergency. Nina thought they might have been some of the first girls woken - there was a rumble of motion upstairs as people started to move.

"Asambe, asambe, let's go, let's go!" The field marshal Uzokuwa was directing girls through the front door and towards one of the waiting trucks beyond the orchard, like they were cargo to be hauled out of a burning building and moved to another dark warehouse, indistinguishable, exchangeable. "Should have brought my stopwatch - you're setting records here, ladies! Let's go - Lady Sol, over there, you're with Mouchard and Farid, third truck there, okay, let's keep it going - Ekaitza, Anzu's the woman for you, on the far right, yeah, that's it - little pearl, you are over there..."

The trucks in question were beginning to peel away, no two travelling away in the same direction - as Nina watched, the dark-haired Vardi Tayna darted across the garden and vaulted into the cabin of a truck even as its wheels started turning, dust rising in its wake as it bounced over a crevice and vanished around the ruins of the town below.

"Mr Ndlovukazi?" Nina was hesitant to interfere, but she couldn't help but notice that the number of vehicles outside the safe house was rapidly declining. Should she just run for the closest one? Did she have time to wait? Would that mean someone else would get left behind? God helps those that helps themselves. "Where should I...?"

The sky was not caving in. What were they running from?

"Lady Nina." Nina almost jumped - Demetri had appeared just behind her quite silently, his eyes serious but his voice very calm. He seemed almost relaxed. "I don't suppose you would do me the honour of travelling with me this evening?"

Nina blinked. "Travel?" He made an emergency evacuation sound like a casual hangout. "I mean..." She wasn't going to say no, was she? "Whatever you say, your Highness."

Demetri offered her the slightest smile. "Let's not waste time. That car over there - Uzo, please tell me Täj is already gone."

Uzokuwa shook his head and quickly stepped out of the way to let Wick pass, shepherding Saran and Eden out and onto the nearest truck. "I'll let him know you want him out."

"He should have been gone an hour ago."

"Dimi. Everyone will be fine." Uzo said it almost warningly. Nina found herself scanning the skies for combatant planes, searching the darkness around them for approaching enemies, any indication of what, precisely, had made the rebels so rattled.

Demetri hesitated. "Maybe I should... How many are still here? I can afford to - " Nina had to admire how Demetri looked after his own, made sure people got out before he did. It was not the quality of a smart man, certainly, but perhaps a good one.

Uzohola's head appeared over the railing of the stair. "Umfo! If our esteemed king doesn't get the fuck out of here, right now, I'm going to save Ysabel the trouble and kill him myself!"

Demetri's eyebrow nearly touched his hairline. "Consider me told, Uzo, my love. Lady Nina... let's, as my eloquent friend has suggested, get the fuck out of here."

Nina couldn't hold back the slightly manic laugh that erupted from her lips.

Truth be told, she hadn't realised the king was allowed to swear.

It made him seem so much more human.

So did his quick reminder of "seatbelt!" as soon as they were in the car, almost adorable in how automatic it was, and though Nina did not consider herself a necessarily cautious girl, she didn't want to disappoint the king either, so as Demetri spun the steering wheel and wrenched up the gears, she quickly buckled up and turned in her seat to try to peer back at the safehouse. "Will everyone..."

"They'll be fine." The trucks had disappeared into the darkness, extinguishing their headlights as they went, absolutely melting into the night like evaporating mist.

Demetri similarly drove without light - Nina had no idea how he could see where he was going. But then, in the Wasteland, could it matter much? The needle on the spedometer wavered around the highest point, but Demetri still looked as calm as he ever had.

"I would ask you how you slept," he said, almost apologetic. "But I fear it might seem a stupid question."

Nina could not stop herself from grinning. "A fucking stupid question?"

Demetri groaned. "Oh, don't."

"Apologies, your Highness..."

"Your Majesty."

Nina looked at him in surprise. In the dark - the only light in the cab emanated from the tiny face of the silent radio - she could see the shadows of contusions and cicatrices on his face, where he had removed the makeup that they had used to hide his injuries on the Report. It made him so much more human, she thought, seeing him so up close. It was the little things, the things that you only ever glimpsed in the gloom when you were close enough to touch: the tiniest dusting of freckles along the highest point of his cheekbone, the ghost of adolescent acne on his jawline, a tiny silver scar beside his right eye like a childhood wound that had never healed, a very light shadow of stubble. Very normal.

"Your Majesty?" she echoed.

"Your Highness is a title for princes, princesses, consorts. People who aren't the king." Demetri smiled. "Or queen."

"My apologies, your Majesty..."

"Or you could just call me Demetri."

Nina said, quite slowly, "could I?"

He made a face. "Everyone else does."

"Clearly not everyone, Dimi."

"You're making fun of me," Demetri said with a dry laugh. "But that is far from the worst of them."

"You can't just say that and not tell me some of the worst ones."

"I can," Demetri said. "And, Lady Nina, I will."

Nina found herself, almost against her will, relaxing. He was normal. Of course, she couldn't say that she could imagine him in the mines of home - though, she could not help but notice now how calloused his hands were, more suited to a pickaxe than a sceptre. He was handsome, but she could see now how he had managed to survive as a rebel for so long: it was in the set of his jaw, the strength of his shoulders, the shrewdness of his eyes poorly disguised by his automatic bright smile. More a leader than a king, she was starting to believe.

All around them, an ocean of black. She could see nothing, could hear nothing. They could have been travelling through space if not for the lack of stars. Demetri seemed to almost read her mind, because he said, "we can put the radio on in a little while. Just not yet."

They were both speaking softly, though they were alone, and competing with the roar of the engine. Somehow it would have seemed wrong to speak normally, in the hush of the dark.

"Be warned," Nina replied. "Just as I judged you for the fuck and the Dimi..."

"I'd like to see you try." Demetri cocked his head. "My music taste is famously immune to criticism."

"Famous?" Nina was amused. "Makes it sounds like many have tried."

"One person has tried, many times." Before Nina could ask anything else, Demetri glanced at his watch, jerked the wheel, and pulled up. The sickly green light of the radio faded and died, and left them entirely in darkness. Nina covered her eyes and strained to look out the window, to see where they had stopped. Seemingly without thinking, Demetri unbuckled his seatbelt and hit the button for Nina's as well. "Come on. Quietly," he added with a smile. "We might be able to see it."

"See what?"

Demetri just gestured, and Nina cautiously followed him out of the car. They had not arrived anywhere, she saw with some mild confusion - still the Wastelands, still dark, still just shadows to the left and right and sand underfoot and stars overhead.

Demetri was pulling something out of the trunk. "So," he said, with a slight smile. "We're going to stress Wick out a little bit and take in the sights." He set a bag by the wheel, and shut the trunk; he had a red-and-black blanket in his hands that he shook out over the roof of the car.

Nina spun in a circle and gestured with confusion, unable to hold herself back from seeing the humour in the situation. "Stargazing?" she suggested helplessly.

"Not quite. You seem too pragmatic a girl to appreciate that too much." He held out a hand. "Can I help you up?"

Nina smiled. "Would it be rude to refuse?"

"Enormously," Demetri replied. "But I grew up with Vardi Tayna, so feel free to refuse away."

Nina hadn't known that before. It seemed an unfair advantage to Vardi - or, given that Nina was beginning to understand just how dislikable the Dominica girl could be, maybe it was an unfair disadvantage to her that Demetri knew her so well.

He boosted himself up onto the roof of the car, and Nina copied him. Settling herself to sit next to him, she was abruptly and acutely aware of the fact that she was still dressed in what approximated her pyjamas - shorts and a t-shirt and a jacket with a photo inside and her shoes untied. If Demetri had noticed, he had given no indication, for which she was very grateful. She doubted he hadn't seen it, but he seemed quite determined to act the gentleman in this situation. In any case, there wasn't anything she could do now. Nina tried not to worry too much about things that were petty and out of her control.

The night air was cool, but not enormously cold - a welcome relief after the the harsh heat of the daytime. The stars overhead were so much brighter than they ever were in Allens - so bright, and so many. The sky was utterly full of them, from horizon to horizon. They were reflected brightly in Demetri's eyes. When Nina was young, her father, Antony, had told her that stars were nothing more than pinpricks in the cloth of the sky, allowing the light of heaven that lay beyond to shine through. She had never really understood that when she was at home. Now, she kind of thought she got it.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" Demetri had set the bag between them and was pulling a bottle from it.

Nina shook her head. "Those dresses were... very tight."

Even in the dark, she could tell that Demetri was holding back a smile. She thought that if she was one of the other rebels, he might have made a joke. Before tonight, she wouldn't have imagined that the king had a sense of humour that wasn't scripted.

Instead, he simply replied, "I feel that, as your king, I am not permitted to comment."

"That seems wise, your Majesty."

He rolled his eyes and handed her a sandwich, followed immediately by a bottle of beer that he had opened with the tip of his key. It was so oddly charming - this was what Nina had expected from a Selection, but distorted somehow, fancy picnics replaced with sandwiches and booze on a car in the middle of the night.

"Did you make this?"

"Is it good?"

Nina tore into it. "It's fantastic."

"Then yes, I made it." Demetri tilted his head back; for a moment, Nina thought he was watching the skies, but after a few moments he pointed to something moving very quickly overhead. "Can you see that?"

"See what?" She thought that she could hear it, whatever it was - like a rattling intake of breath as a shadow passed between them and the stars.

"It's gone." Demetri gestured straight ahead of them. "Should be just another moment..."

Nina took a swig of the beer he had offered her and then nearly leapt from her own skin as the night abruptly exploded on the horizon. A flash of red lit up the night sky, accompanied by a billowing mushroom of white and grey smoke that billowed up to eclipse the constellations overhead. Even this far away, there was a deep rumble, like the sky itself was roaring. She had only a moment to compose herself before there was another explosion, this one accompanied by the screaming of rending metal and the rumble of falling stones.

Demetri propped up his knee on the edge of the car's roof, and rested his forearm on it, spinning a bottle of water between his fingers. Designated driver, Nina thought with amusement. "That was a good one."

Nina drew in a deep breath of night air. "Airstrike?"

Demetri nodded. "Ysabel wants blood."

"And everyone got out okay?"

"Absolutely everyone."

Nina allowed herself to relax a little. Then there was another explosion - a white-bright starburst of light, followed by another, followed by another.

Demetri said, "they're really giving us hell, aren't they?"

"They're being... very thorough." And then another, and then another - the entire horizon was ablaze, and burning, and then was bombed a second and third time, and then a seventh and an eight time, and the entire sky of stars was obscured by flame.

For a long time, Nina had done her best to help the rebel cause in her hometown - supplying coal, forging numbers, hiding contraband in the mines. It hadn't stemmed from any great opposition to the kingdom, any great hatred of the king, or indeed, any great love for Demetri, but had been fed by a general exhaustion of the system that demanded her community fed its men and women to the mines in a ceaseless blood tithe without ever satiating it appetite. She had been willing to countenance any alternative to the status quo, and the Kingdom in Exile had represented one such alternative.

For the first time, Nina thought that she understood just how badly the queen Ysabel wanted them dead.

For a second time, Demetri seemed to read her mind. "It's weird," he said. "But moments like these always make me feel... very wanted."

Another burst of light and heat, all red and black.

"Wanted?" Nina took another drag from the bottle. "That is a little weird."

"Look how much effort they're putting into trying to kill me." Demetri gestured to the red flowers of fire unfurling at the edge of the world, and Nina laughed so hard she thought she was going to spit back out her beer.

"Are you so starved of compliments that you'll take that?"

Demetri rolled his eyes. "You've met the people I call friends."

Nina smiled and leaned back on her hands. And the miner and the king sat on their car in silence for a very long moment, watching as their safehouse burned.

The wastelands were behind them, dark and deep and unknowable. An inferno lay in front of them, roaring and aglow. And yet, the stars still spun and shone overhead, bright and somehow hopeful.

Nina rather thought it an apt comparison to the Selection as a whole so far.

The darkness in which the girls had huddled was suddenly broken by a very harsh white light as the doors were hauled open by two rebels. Liz blinked in the sudden light, her head spinning slightly. She felt abruptly more blind than she had been, even plunged into the total darkness of the freight hold - at least in the dark, you were secure in knowing that everyone was as blind as you were. Now there were rebels hauling the girls from the body of the truck, not all of them being gentle, pulling their arms and pushing them by their shoulders this way and that way, and though Liz had dared to hope that they might have reached their destination, she realized abruptly with some disappointment that they were still very much in the middle of nowhere - no, she thought, not entirely in the middle of the nowhere, for as she took a few hesitant steps photos she almost tripped over the long iron line of a railway track, leading from nothing to nowhere.

She hadn't even paid attention to who she was travelling with - they had all stayed silent during the trip. She knew Lissa was not among them, because the blonde girl had been directed away to a different vehicle almost as soon as they had exited the building together, and had flung only a quick goodbye over her shoulder towards Liz as she went. The eltwins, some of the other Selected had taken to calling them, L and L, rarely parted. Lissa was bubbly, and impulsive, and sometimes very, very odd, but she was genuine in a way no one else in this Selection seemed to be, and Liz was enormously glad to see her silhouette outlined in sharp white light over by another one of the trucks.

They were being split up again. Not all of the girls were here, but where was here? Liz had managed to sleep after a few hours - anyone who could nap on the floor of the barn in the spring during lambing season or who could sleep through the screams of cattle in weaning season learned to sleep anywhere at anytime - and so the time had melted by, totally immeasurable, but she could tell that it was no longer the sheer scrub of the Wasteland underfoot but a slightly more tailored surface. Once domesticated land now gone wild, she thought, rather than never-tamed wilderness. Had they travelled right out of the Wasteland, up into the threshold of the southern provinces?

Mouchard, the rat-faced rebel with an almost incomprehensibly thick Wastelands accent, was making the divisions with surgical precision. Liz didn't recognise most of the rebels around them: scowling men with bandanas over their mouths and their rifles lying ready in their arms, like they were expecting the girls to make a run for it, like they didn't want the girls to see their faces. She could not perceive the friendly smile of Uzokuwa or Uzohola, the wry and darting eyes of Anzu, the jovial distraction of Phineas and Mikhail, the warmth of Wick, or even the aloof watchfulness of Thiago Wesick - and abruptly, Liz realised just how well she had come to know the rebellion during the past two weeks, and how much she hoped that nothing would happen to them on this strange, turbulent night.

Some of the girls, Soledad and Saran and Eden, were being directed down along the railway, with one of the men trailing behind them ("follow the lines, instructions will follow you"); Atiena was pointed towards one car, Ekaitza to another; Lissa was being herded back towards the truck, although thankfully she was being directed towards the cab rather than the body.

Liz had a strange feeling weighing down her heart that she was seeing some of these girls for the last time.

This was insanity. Why were they being split up again, sent wandering in the dark? If the evacuation had been so urgent, why were they taking the time to split up into groups when they could have just kept driving?

"Malone!" Mouchard shouted over his shoulder. "You take this one. Lady Opal, you'll be travelling with Theo here..."

Liz was standing closest to Opal, and thought it likely that she was the only one who saw the way that Opal's eyes widened, how the colour seemed to drain from her face, how her lips parted and all the breath seemed to escape from behind her ribs. Was she scared? Liz set her jaw and searched the ranks of the rebels for who might have frightened her but no - Opal wasn't scared, she was angry, angry and, if the confusion in her eyes was any indication, slightly unsure, slightly relieved.

She knew him, Liz thought. She knew this Theo guy.

Theo put his hand on Opal's shoulder. He spoke softly. "Opal, come on..." She shook him off.

Liz interrupted quickly. "I'll go with you, Mr Malone. Opal can go in the truck with Lissa, it's fine."

Mouchard was frowning at them through the fabric covering his mouth. "Were my orders unclear, ladies?"

"It's fine." Opal had put back her shoulders and taken a few steps back; she met Theo's gaze levelly. Liz could not help but admire her a little. "It's fine. You go with Lissa, Liz. I wouldn't want to be the one to split up the eltwins. I'll see you at the safehouse."

Liz could not help but hesitate. Just walk away?

Opal offered her an encouraging smile. "Don't worry."

Liz rolled her eyes. "You clearly don't know me very well."

She reached over and squeezed Opal's hand very briefly, her meaning clear - stay safe, stay sane, don't be a martyr - and then Mouchard was calling and the truck's lights were lighting up and Liz had to sprint over to the cab to jump into the seat before they could pull away without her. Lissa held the door open for her; Liz climbed in, slammed the door shut, and felt her bones shake from their joints as the skeleton of the truck rattled into life.

Lissa was looking at her concernedly. "You okay, Liz?"

Liz nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just..."

"What is it?"

"I don't want to be superstitious," Liz said softly. "But..."

She shrugged.

"I just feel like we're never going to see some of them again."

If this Selection was good for anything, it was getting Liara used to disappointment. First had been the so-called date with Demetri. Now, she felt like she was being betrayed all over again.

Vardi Tayna slipped off the back of the motorcycle that had just pulled into the courtyard, and the dog that Liara had been petting bolted away from her to tackle the smaller southern girl, his body appearing to vibrate like he was at risk of spontaneous combustion out of sheer excitement at seeing a new friend to play with. Was it a new friend? Vovve the collie had been overjoyed to see Atiena and Liara arrive at the little workshop an hour ago, but the way he greeted Vardi Tayna now reminded Liara of those videos where a soldier's dog sees him return from war. He looked like he would have leapt into her arms if he had still been young enough to jump.

For her part, Vardi Tayna didn't seem inclined to push him away, but crouched down to fuss over him as the motorcycle roared back to life, and the rebel riding it careened back out of the compound as quickly as he had arrived. Atiena watched it go with narrowed eyes; she was leaning against the frame of the house's backdoor, while Liara sat on the top step, her arms hanging over her knees. She wasn't sure Vardi Tayna had seen them, so busy was she talking nonsense in that way that people did when dogs were around ("aren't you lovely, aren't you such a good girl, I missed you so much"), but if she had not noticed them, then she did a good job of hiding realisation of their presence as she straightened, hefted her bag on one shoulder, and crossed the courtyard to greet them.

She didn't seem inclined to say anything to them until Liara spoke first. "Bit of a handful, huh."

"Ah, Bruce always is always a bit excitable."

"What did you call him?" Liara asked.

Vardi Tayna looked blank. "Her name is Bruce." At Liara and Atiena's confusion, she elaborated, "like Bruce Springsteen?"

Liara chuckled. "I thought his name was Vovve."

"Vovve? Who told you that?"

"Täj," Atiena said casually. "He seemed pretty confident about it."

Vardi Tayna paused. She shrugged. "When is he not?" Her voice was flat; it did not escape Liara's notice that she seemed a little uncomfortable, a little thornier than even she typically was. "But confident doesn't mean right."

"Guys! What is Cuckoo barking at?" Their hostess was calling from within the house, but Liara could hear her footsteps approaching.

Vardi Tayna frowned. "Is that Raphael in there?"

Raphael, contrary to the name, was one of the most beautiful women that Liara had ever glimpsed - tall and strong and broad-shouldered, with hands that seemed better suited to wielding a sword than making clocks. Her hair was a true, deep gold, her eyes a dark moss green, her skin an even olive from time spent in the sun. She had a wide mouth that she used to smile liberally, and thick brows that seemed twice as expressive as the rest of her. Right now, she was beaming. "Little liar," Raphael sang as she stepped out onto the back step, and Vardi Tayna slipped forward to give her a hug, barely coming up to the other woman's collarbone.

"Hey, Rafa." The softness in Vardi Tayna's voice just reminded Liara of how far behind the rest of the Selected girls were when it came to getting a glimpse into Demetri's world. How could they hope to compete with someone who had grown up at his side, who knew every rebel, who greeted all of Demetri's allies with a smile and a hug and a nickname? If Demetri had never been stolen, if he had been raised in the palace as he ought to have been, if he had held a Selection as his father had before him, would it have been fair to let Liara enter?

Would she have wanted to?

"Haven't seen you in forever." Raphael released Vardi Tayna so that she could assess the younger girl as she had assessed Atiena and Liara when they had arrived - are you tired, are you hungry, you look a little low. "How are my boys?"

"You know the answer to that already." Vardi Tayna took a step back; she had to tilt her face right up to meet Raphael's eyes. She spoke softly; Liara had to strain to listen. "I'm surprised you're letting us stay. It means a lot, Rafa."

"Don't be silly. Family sticks together in an emergency. Petty arguments don't mean much." Raphael laughed. "Besides, Agares can't wait to meet you all. She's never forgiven me for letting you guys miss the wedding."

"We were," Vardi Tayna said dryly. "Setting up a country at the time, Rafa."

"You can't take one night off setting up a country? You're as bad as this supposed king of ours." Raphael had already, deaf to Vardi Tayna's protestations, relieved her of her bag, and was guiding her into the house. "No escaping us now, I'm afraid. You okay in the basement? That boy of yours didn't give us much notice, so we're a little tight on space... It's just the five of you staying, isn't it?"

Vardi Tayna looked to Atiena and Liara for confirmation. Atiena frowned. "Us, Täj..."

"Oh, there's some other girl staying here as well." Raphael waved her hand. "Tried to talk our man himself into staying with us but it was all kingdom this and revolution that and leaderthe other, you know how he is."

Vardi Tayna laughed, but there was an edge of tiredness to it. She looked exhausted, Liara thought. She hadn't seen the other girl since the manic fleeing of the safehouse a day ago. Or had it been two days ago? In any case, she looked a little worse for the wear. Liara had found their journey boring, but not all that unpleasant - Täj and Atiena had kept up a quiet stream of conversation at the front of the car, while Liara had gazed out the window at the ceaseless stream of nothingness that sped past them. Eventually, that nothingness had given way to something: first, paved roads, and then small villages that were nothing more than a small smattering of shops and houses around a dusty square, and then finally they were in a bona fide town with cobbled streets and windows aglow with warm golden light and people sitting outside little cafes with cups of coffees.

"Where are we?" Liara had asked, and Täj had left it to Atiena to answer.

"It's a rebel town," Atiena had said, unable to keep back the note of admiration that crept into her voice. "A town of the Kingdom in Exile."

Liara had stared out the window. Everything looked so normal. After so long in the Wastelands, she had almost forgotten that the rebellion was making strides to maintain a semblance of legitimacy; false king or not, she couldn't deny that this could have been a town in Angeles, with couples walking hand-in-hand on the street, parents and children shopping at open-air markets, people on their way to work swerving and careening on bikes around the traffic that congested the main shopping street.

Raphael's house had similarly seemed exceedingly normal, after the strange, eerie emptiness of the safehouse. She occupied a small shop-front in a tiny side alley, with a hanging basket of red-and-purple flowers on either side of her door. She had been sitting on the porch when Täj pulled up beside the shop, looking like she hadn't decided whether to be friendly or not. She clearly made up her mind once she caught sight of Liara and Atiena - Liara didn't think either of them were the types of girls to seem like they needed to be looked after, but clearly something about their appearance had softened Raphael's reticence, for it had taken her only a few moments to start brewing them tea and doling out soup and sending her wife, Agares, rooting in the attic for extra blankets.

Vardi Tayna didn't seem to be getting any of this special treatment.

"You know where you're heading, don't you?" Raphael gestured indoors. "I'll let you go get settled. Try to walk lightly, Täj is asleep upstairs and you know how this house complains if you don't move soft."

Something flickered in Vardi Tayna's eyes but she nodded. Liara watched her disappear into the bowels of the house.

Atiena pushed off the doorframe and walked out a little further into the courtyard to squat down and fuss over the dog, who was still lying where Vardi Tayna had left him. Atiena had said earlier that he - or was it, as Vardi Tayna insisted, a she? - reminded her of the strays that sometimes took to hanging out around the Morris house, knowing that they would be fed and minded by the family for as long as they wished to stick around. Liara wondered if the girl from Tammins was thinking of home. She wondered if girls like Atiena Morris ever got homesick. She had never seen her nervous, or awkward, or uncertain. Even Täj seemed to become more comfortable when he was around her.

Raphael sat down beside Liara. "I made you some tea," she said, quite without prompting, as she passed the Angeles girl a mug. "Hope you don't mind - just thought you looked a little stressed."

Liara accepted it with a polite nod. "Thank you, Mrs...?"

"Raphael," Raphael said, without preamble. "Please don't stand on ceremony, Liara. I want you girls to be comfortable while you're staying here - for however long that may be."

"You don't know?"

"The rebellion doesn't always see fit to tell me these things. They need my house, so they use it. When they don't, they won't."

Liara inhaled deeply, and appreciated the sweet aroma of the tea - honey and caramel, she thought, like the perfume her mother has worn when she was a child. "You mean you're not a member of the rebellion? The Kingdom in Exile?" If Demetri was not around, she thought that an acceptable alternative might be to speak to those who knew him.

"I am a citizen of the Kingdom in Exile," Raphael replied. "And I am proud of that. But I left the rebellion behind a very long time ago."

"Can I ask you why?"

Raphael was not drinking tea, but coffee; she took a long drink of that now, almost like she wanted to give herself time to think of an answer. However, when she did reply, Liara could detect absolutely no mistruth in her words. "I think there comes a point where we tire of the fight. The bloodshed. The constant demand for blood, for sacrifice. I'm saying this to you, because if you are to become queen of this Kingdom, then you ought to know what it took to build it. What it takes to sustain it." Raphael looked at her cup. "He called me a coward when I walked away from it all, you know."

Liara blanched. "Demetri?" Even having met the new, older Demetri, the man who was coldest when he thought no one was looking, she still could not help but think of the smaller, more cautious boy that he had been, all pale green eyes and grazed knees, asking her if she was okay after a fall into the fountain in the palace courtyards, doting over the oldest horse in the stables even when it was not strong enough to stand to greet him, helping Mordred to reach the lowest branches of the trees so that they could try to climb over the wall into the forbidden rose garden that had been Jael's.

How could one have become the other?

Raphael hesitated a second time. "I don't think he was entirely wrong. I still get to reap the benefits of what they're fighting for, without putting anything on the line. You know, I live in this nice town and I know that I'm safe in my house at night. My wife and I live quietly. Men and women die out of sight, and all for this. So that I can buy fresh bread in the morning."

"How old were you when...?"

"I was twenty when I gave up the fight. Twenty, and I wasn't sure I would live to twenty one."

Liara didn't know what she could say to that. Raphael smiled at the younger girl's apparent loss for words, and took another sip of her coffee.

"This is what they're fighting for. I think it's important that you get to see that. That it's not all... dust and ashes, like the palace wants you to believe. It's not just the Wastelands. There are families being raised in the Kingdom. People fall in love here. They are born here, and they die here."

"Like in the north."

"Almost. The north was built on the carcass of Illéa. The south is its own beast."

Liara took another deep breath, and watched Atiena coax the dog closer to her. "You were close to Demetri? Before you left?"

Raphael laughed. "Yeah, you could say that."

Liara didn't get the opportunity to ask for further clarification to this enigmatic response, because at that very moment, Agares, her red hair covered, put her head out the back door to say that dinner was ready if the girls wanted to come in to join them, she wasn't going to wake Täj because hadn't the poor man looked half-dead with exhaustion, and they should probably bring Juk indoors because he might try to chase cats into the streets if he wasn't watched closely.

Raphael stood and offered Liara a hand to help her up. "Don't let anything I've told you scare you off. The king has brought you here for a reason. He has shown you the Wastelands; now he wants you to see the Kingdom in truth. I wouldn't be surprised if he intends to move you north once he has narrowed you down to the Elite."

"If I stay that long."

Raphael's smile reminded Liara of Demetri's - it was bright, and sweet, and somehow warming. You had the feeling nothing bad could happen to you while that smile was being directed your way. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Liara."

Liara brushed away the compliment, and managed to hold back the suspicion from her voice. "How do you figure?"

"It's simple." Raphael whistled, and the dog with no true name loped across the courtyard to put its head under her hand and whine for scratches. It had a collar on, with a silver tag spelling out a name no one had used: FESTE. Beneath that, another word that had nearly worn through, letters missing: ga r e . "He wouldn't have let you meet me unless you were in with an excellent chance."

"Täj. You awake?"

She half expected to see the glow of a lit cigarette in the darkness if he was, but the room was awash in gloom even as he replied, "no, I'm not."

"You're hilarious."

The springs on the bed protested as he rolled over. Through the crack in the door, a thin slice of wan light fell across his face, illuminating a single pale green eye, the sharp edge of his cheek, his pale fair hair, falling across his forehead in a loose wave. She paused, and then she slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. Climbing onto his bed was strangely intimately familiar - like the past fifteen years had melted away and they were mere children once more, stranded in the hinterlands among wolves with only one another to rely on. Täj was as awkward as ever he was, but it was a rustiness, not a discomfort, as Vardi Tayna slipped down to lie next to him and he stiffly moved, limbs still heavy with sleep, to put his arm around her waist and settle his cheek against her hair. His heartbeat was slow and steady. He smelled like smoke and sage.

"I think," Täj murmured. "This is against the rules."

"Of the Selection?" He could feel her laugh reverberating through her bones. His bones as well. Almost like a shudder. She was thinner than she had been. "Yeah. I think it is."

"Not like us to break the rules."

"No. Imagine. My reputation might never recover." She intertwined her fingers with his and let out a deep sigh, snuggling deeper into the thin mattress. "You got a better bed than me."

"Perks of the position."

"Ugh. Nepotism."

He was silent for such a long moment she thought he might have fallen asleep. "Täj? What is it?"

"Are you okay, Tayna?"

"In general?" Vardi Tayna's voice was still rough from weariness.

"In general."

"Yeah. I'm fine."

In the dark, he smiled. "Selection going well?"

He felt her lips graze his skin, by his wrist. "Selection not going badly."

He imagined not. The strange small rebel girl getting one of the first dates with King Demetri had been a topic of much conversation in the camp. Our Vardi Tayna might be queen yet, had been thrown about a few times. "Demetri's a lucky guy."

"You reckon?"

"You don't?"

She dug her elbow very gently into his ribs, but he could tell that she was smiling. Questions on top of questions. "I reckon," Vardi Tayna said softly. "That Atiena's a very lucky girl."

His laugh was low and husky. "Why do you sound like that?"

"I don't sound like anything."

They both knew she was lying.

For her part, she thought he might say something further. Thought he was going to ask her something.

Questions on top of questions.

Instead, he just said, very softly, "Shut up and go to sleep, T."

And for once, she did not argue further.