Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh

Author:Emily Tesh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

VICTORY

Yiso woke with a cry, a torn-out ragged sound, their bundle-of-sticks body jerking into a sitting position. Their hands were still tied. Their crest and ears were flat against their skull. Avi turned with the expression of someone who had suddenly spotted a poisonous snake.

“What,” Yiso said, “what—”

Kyr was still covered in the fine misty blood of the slaughtered bodyguards. Her knife had fallen out of her hand. She saw the way Yiso twisted around and found her; how their ears pricked forward and their whole expression lifted into something like relief. She’d done nothing to earn that expression from a majo. Yiso was a servant of the Wisdom. Kyr owed them nothing.

In fact—“Do I need to,” she said to Avi, and couldn’t finish the sentence. If the alien needed to die, Kyr would have to do it. Mags had stumbled away from Leru’s corpse, looking waxy and awful.

“That depends. Hey, Yiso,” Avi said. He twitched two fingers: the tone of the shadow engine’s hum changed, and the knots Kyr had tied around the little majo’s wrists fell away. “It wants you up, huh? So get up.”

“What’s happening?” said Yiso, and then, “You—you hurt me.” They got into a crouched position on their haunches, but didn’t make it all the way to standing. “I thought you were nice—I thought Valkyr was the one who—You hurt me.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Avi said. “Get up.”

Yiso let out a little moan. They’d spotted Leru’s broken corpse. “What have you done?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Avi said. “You’re a Prince of the Wisdom—no, don’t lie, we know. I always knew what you were.”

Yiso stumbled upright and swayed. Kyr nearly went to catch them, but Avi waved her away. The Bee on his shoulder took off and went for a lazy figure-eight wander around him, and then came back. Avi said, “Stop me.”

“What?”

“Do your thing. Space magic or whatever. Appeal to the Wisdom. Cheat. It’s what you do, right?” Avi said. “Here, how about I do this.” He lifted his hand and Leru’s corpse lurched upright. The dead majo’s head hung terribly backward from their broken neck. Yiso made a revolted sound. “Little bit of puppetry,” Avi said. “Seems appropriate. Don’t like it? Stop me.”

Yiso sniffled and whimpered. Kyr’s gaze fell on their hands, the broken finger she’d fixed herself, twice. Leru had used their three-fingered hands to gesture commands into being. Avi was still twitching his fingers, and with every motion the corpse moved forward, descending lifelessly on Yiso, limbs swaying at random as shadowspace flickers danced around it. It was stomach-turning, even for Kyr, who didn’t care. She didn’t care. They named me, the Yiso in the scenarios had said.

Yiso let out a low cry and tried to shove the corpse away, throwing both hands out toward it.

Kyr didn’t know why she was holding her breath.

“And nothing,” Avi said. “Hah. You can’t, can you? You’re locked out.”

“Please,” Yiso said. “What you’re doing is dangerous. Please stop.”

And somehow that was what made Kyr move.

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