That's it. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being sick!
Zana's head continued to pound, unimpressed by her annoyance. As long as she kept her eyes closed, though, the headache and the nausea were manageable. She tried not to listen to all the other aches and pains that were now slowly lighting up in her awareness; there were too many, and in unsettling places.
The light behind her eyelids was pale and steady - daylight, and suddenly she became aware of the sound of rain drumming softly against a windowpane. She was lying in a bed. Her hands brushed over the knobby surface of a woven blanket.
A shadow fell over her. "Zana? Are you awake? Thank the Mothers!"
Galen's voice. He must've been in the room. She hadn't been aware of his presence until now.
"A bit," she whispered. Why was her voice so weak? With effort, she managed, "I'm thirsty."
"Yes, yes of course," She heard a chair creaking and then water gurgling as he rose from his seat beside her bed to pour her something to drink.
"Here, Zana, let me help you sit up a bit..."
It was strange - she wanted to sit up, wanted to open her eyes, wanted to feel better now, but her body very much wanted to lie down again, keep her eyes shut, and sleep, and be left alone. She compromised by stopping Galen once she was in a half-sitting position, and cracking her eyes open just a little bit to squint at the cup under her nose. It was tea, not water, the steam transporting a bitter scent. "What is that?"
"That's a, a tea from maidenhair leaves and yellow root. It reduces the swelling and the inflammation in the head, and makes the blood flow better."
It was a sign of Galen's nervousness that he explained the effect of every ingredient to her. Zana imagined her head was the size of a pumpkin, slowly being shrunk now by the tea. She took a sip, and gagged. "Is there oil in that tea?"
"Ah, yes, that yellow root isn't really water soluble, you see." The rim of the cup was pressed to her lips again. "A lot of people put butter in their tea, even when they're not taking it as a medicine," Galen said encouragingly. "And now that you're awake, you need to drink as much as possible of it. Doctor Lemar said it was important to drink it over several weeks, to prevent later complications..."
Zana forced another gulp down and hoped she wouldn't throw up the next moment. "Doctor Lemar? I thought you were treating me." She cautiously peeked at Galen. Now that she had adjusted to her half-sitting position, her dizziness was slowly retreating.
Galen sighed and sank into his chair again. "Zana, I'm not a doctor. I didn't even finish my studies, and the most I dare to do is treating inflamed udders and feverish humans. I will certainly not lay hands on my fiancée!"
Zana said nothing, and took another sip of her tea, more for Galen's sake than her own. It tasted horrible, oily and bitter. "And you really think an old country doctor in some backwater town is better than you? Where are we, anyway?"
Galen took a deep breath and regarded her with a little ironic smile. "He must be doing something right - you're almost your old, inquisitive self again. This little... backwater town is called Silam, and unfortunately, it still belongs to Pendan prefecture."
"Why unfortunately?" She took another gulp from her mug, determined to empty it, to shrink her head back to normal size as quickly as possible, so that they could move away from a town that seemed to make Galen so nervous.
Her fiancé flicked her a quick glance, maybe realizing his mistake. "You... you don't remember how we fled from that human village near Trion?"
"I do remember, Galen, I'm not senile," Zana said, slightly annoyed.
Galen rubbed his hands over his knees. "No, of course not, but a concussion can result in memory loss. Do you... do you remember what happened... back there?"
Bodies clumping around her, dragging her down like lead weights, scrabbling and digging and biting...
"No," she said, and emptied the cup. "I don't remember anything after you gave me the knife."
"Ah." Galen stared at the floor between his knees. "I see."
It had been the right answer, Zana told herself. He looked relieved. "So... why 'unfortunately'?"
Galen turned his palm upward. "Because Urko will search this prefecture up and down, and probably the neighbouring prefectures, too. And he, he knows you've been injured, so he knows we have to be hiding here somewhere." He quickly told her about their encounter with the general at the border of the Forbidden Zone. Peet had saved them with the human-made explosives he had found in that corridor.
She jerked away from the memory of that corridor as if it had singed her mind. That crawling, tearing, biting darkness... "Humans of old seemed to have been quite fond of blowing things up," she joked weakly.
Galen snorted. "Peet is inordinarily fond of using explosives, guns, and knives," he muttered. "One day he'll blow us up, mark my words."
"He saved our lives with his gun and his... grenades." She formed the human word carefully, proud to have remembered it. Maybe her head was still working, despite its size.
Galen didn't look convinced. "He is a human from that time. If all of them were that war-like, it's no wonder that all that is left of them are ruins." He leaned over to tug at the pillow in her back, and from close up, she could see that he was clenching his jaw. "Warlike and selfish, with no regards to the dangers their obsession poses to others..."
He was talking about Alan, Zana realized. Alan and his insistence on exploring that tunnel, waking up the... the things in it. Like a child poking an anthill. She suddenly sensed the anger that was simmering under Galen's concern for her. The outcome of this adventure had confirmed for him all the fears and prejudices apes held against humans.
She suddenly felt guilty for having let herself be dragged away. Over the last months, Galen had allowed a cautious friendship to develop between himself and the humans; now it seemed as if her carelessness had destroyed that fragile tendril of curiosity and understanding.
I should've fought harder.
A sudden worry lanced through her chest. Had Galen punished Alan for what he thought was the human's fault? "Where are Peet and Alan?"
Galen sniffed and leaned back in his chair. "They are earning our rent, and the doctor's bills... all our expenses, basically. I don't have any money left, Zana - it all went up in flames, metaphorically speaking, when we had to abandon the wagon."
Zana sat bolt upright, all her fears confirmed, then winced as a wave of nausea and dizziness hit her. "You sold them?"
"No," Galen huffed. "Why make a profit of them just once, when I can make one continuously? - I'm not really making a profit," he growled when he saw her glare. "But I need to pay for our stay here, so I hired them out."
Zana let herself sink into the cushions again and closed her eyes. She felt Galen take the cup out of her hands. Maybe she could sleep a bit now. Maybe there had been a third herb in that tea, one that made her drowsy again... "What'd you make 'm do?"
Galen pulled the cushion out from under her head, and she sank deeper, and that sinking feeling didn't stop, and it felt good to just let go...
She didn't hear his answer anymore.
The problem with basket weaving wasn't that it was work that was given to old people and cripples - humans who weren't able to do the hard labor that the apes typically subjected them to. The problem was that it was such a mentally undemanding work that Virdon had too much time to dwell on the fact that he was now sorted with the elderly and the cripples.
That, and a lot of other things he'd rather preferred not to think about. Like Sally, and Chris, and that daughter that he had come to call Hope, just to himself, so that he could call her by a name at all. While his fingers bent and crossed the stalks of his basket, Virdon tried to picture her. Her hair would be dark, like her mother's, but she'd have his eyes; or maybe she'd have fair hair, and Sally's hazel eyes. She'd have Sally's dimples when she smiled. Chris would teach her how to ride a bike.
He cleared his throat and tried to listen to the stories that people were telling around him, but all the gossip referred to people he didn't know, and his thoughts soon started to drift again.
Zana was still confined to her bed in that little inn they had found; it was tucked into a small side-alley, hopefully away from the eye of the law around here, or any patrols coming through. They had set up camp here, against that guard's advice, because they had no other choice - Zana's condition demanded bedrest, and a doctor.
Was he responsible for what had happened to her? He felt responsible; but he hadn't told them to follow them into the city.
I didn't tell them to stay away, though. Not that they'd have listened...
His hand crept to the disc, then stopped as he remembered that Galen had it now. He felt naked without it, lost, as if he was now without a purpose.
As soon as we've crossed the mountains, I'll demand it back, and then we'll part ways-
A commotion at the door made him look up. Galen was there, talking in a low voice to the chimp overseer. He looked up as if he had sensed Virdon's gaze, and waved him to come over.
Virdon put his half-finished basked down and reached for his crutch. Nobody paid him any attention as he slowly made his way through stacks of finished baskets and heaps of fresh willow branches. Galen didn't acknowledge him, either, just turned and left, forcing Virdon to follow him outside. The afternoon was hot and humid, the default weather in this part of the country. The air was almost too thick to breathe.
"What's wrong?" Virdon asked and stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow. "They won't pay you as much if you call me out early."
Galen waved dismissively. "They didn't pay very well anyway. I have something more important for you to do." He quickly strode off, and Virdon had to struggle to keep up. Galen didn't show any consideration for his impaired leg anymore, a demonstration of his fury over the debacle in that city. As far as the chimp was concerned, there was no question of who was responsible for Zana's injuries.
When they finally reached the stables where Tala and Apache were kept, Virdon was hot and out of breath, and ready to trip Galen with his crutch. Before he could give in to that temptation, the ape had vanished into the tack room at the end of the aisle. Virdon stopped a moment to greet Tala, before he limped after him.
"Peet found a man who sells leather hides for an affordable price," Galen said and gestured at a heap of apricot-colored sheets on a table. "He assured me that you could make saddlebags out of them."
Virdon slowly approached the table that was normally used as a workplace to repair horse tack, and fingered the leather. "It's a bit thin," he said doubtfully, "and a bit too soft. I might have to use a double layer, and that means we'll need twice the amount of leather. I don't know if it's still such a good deal then, Ga... Kova."
"A less indulgent master would let you taste the cane for that kind of familiarity."
Both Virdon and Galen spun round at the new voice from the door. Virdon took a deep breath as he recognized the chimp from their last encounter with Urko. It was the guard who had advised them to skip this town, as it was still part of Prefect Kanla's domain.
"How did you find us?" Virdon asked hoarsely.
The ape flicked him a contemptuous glance. "I just assumed you'd be too stupid to heed good advice. And this town isn't very big. Word gets around, especially when visitors have such a striking human - unusual color, a limp..." He slowly stepped into the room, thumbs tucked into his belt. "If I didn't have any difficulties finding you, imagine how quickly Urko would find you here."
"And yet, he hasn't," Galen pointed out, his voice as light and unconcerned as ever, with only the slightest hint of tension underneath.
The guard shrugged. "Urko is on his way to the City right now, but he's left his trusted lieutenant behind to go looking for you, and from what I've seen, Nelva is awfully motivated. One really has to wonder what you did to piss off the general so much."
Galen didn't dignify this with an answer. "Why are you here?"
"The prefect sends me." The guard unhooked a pouch from his belt and dropped it on the table. "With your money."
Galen pursed his lips and took up the pouch, weighed it in his hand for a moment, and set it back down on the table. "That is way too much money."
The guard raised his brows. "You'd be the first to complain about that."
Galen lifted a corner of his mouth. "In my experience, people rarely overpay. If they seem to do so, it's always an advance for future services. And I don't intend to render any more services to Prefect Kanla. The ones I did already got me in deep trouble."
The other chimp smiled, and Virdon felt his unease grow. The guard had already shown Galen the carrot and the stick, and if Galen dug his heels in like he did right now, Kanla's man might feel forced to increase the pressure. For some reason, Virdon was sure that the guard wouldn't take no for an answer.
"You're right, Kanla needs you to do something for her," the guard admitted. "But it's no big thing. You just need to write a letter."
"A letter," Galen repeated flatly. "What kind of letter?"
"A letter of recommendation." The guard hesitated and glanced meaningfully at Virdon.
"He can stay," Galen said, his voice as carefully expressionless as before. "He doesn't talk to outsiders."
"Fine," the guard said hesitantly. "You remember how I saved your life back at the border? That got me into some deep trouble of my own with the general. Kanla made sure I kept my job," he smiled wryly, "and my life, but that'll end as soon as she's no longer prefect. And if Urko gets his way, back in the big City, that day will come very soon."
"So he wants to unseat her," Galen said slowly. "I was right." He turned away and stepped around the table, brushing his fingertips over the leather. "What do I have to do with that?"
"Kanla thinks that you know people in high places," the chimp said, his eyes burning into Galen's back. "She needs someone to speak on her behalf, someone with political weight. She thinks you know someone who would do that... if you wrote them a letter."
Virdon wondered what had happened between Galen and the prefect that had given him away. Granted, he still had that upper-class aura of sophistication and privilege...
Galen still didn't raise his gaze from the hides, but his fingers had stilled on the leather. "What makes her think that?"
"I don't know," the guard said. He came to Galen's side. "But I trust her judgment. Write that letter, and my men will send Nelva on a wild goose chase up and down the prefecture. Before he finds your scent again, you'll be halfway up the mountains."
For a moment, Galen stared at the pouch that still sat on the table, fat and silent. Then he grabbed it and held it out to the guard. "I'm sorry, but Prefect Kanla is mistaken. I don't know anyone in the City. I can't help her."
The guard stared down at him, and for a moment, Virdon was sure he'd bring up Urko's knockout again. He had saved their lives then, and that was a debt Galen couldn't wiggle out of.
But the guard just stepped back. "Keep it. It's payment for the treatment of our humans."
Galen followed him with a strained smile and pressed the pouch into his hands. "I insist. As I said, it's way too much."
"You should leave the prefecture," Virdon said, surprising himself. The guard turned his head to stare at him in disbelief. "You did save our lives back at the zone's border," Virdon continued, blithely disregarding protocol, "you shouldn't lose yours because of it. I'm sure there are prefectures outside Urko's reach."
"I can't leave," the guard muttered after a moment of stunned silence. "I have... a family back in Trion that I need to take care of. And they wouldn't go with me, so..." He shrugged. "I just have to hope for the best. I'll be around for a bit longer, in case your master reconsiders." With a last meaningful glance towards Galen, he left.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.
"Say it," Galen muttered, not looking at him. "Give me your opinion."
"In my opinion..." Virdon said slowly, "... you paid too much for that leather. It's not really suited for saddlebags, but I'll do my best."
Galen huffed and turned away. "That's what's foremost on your mind?"
"I know nothing about your connections in the City," Virdon lied. He knew that Galen's father sat in the council, but Galen's relationship with Yalu was... complicated. And nothing he wanted to comment on. And I know you don't really want to know my opinion on anything right now. "So I... defer to your judgment."
"Now if that wouldn't be a first," Galen murmured. He sighed. "Do what you can with that leather, and do it quick. I want to leave by tomorrow morning." He started for the door. "And make another sled for Ahpahchee, too, so we can distribute the load more evenly."
"Is Zana... is she fit to travel?"
Galen didn't turn around. "She has to be."