#waamaed

Seventy-three

48 De Quarto 4073 

Isohi 

Rovian 

Juraji 

Daanah 

Ai-

Lí sat down heavily next to Halek and put an official-looking document on top of the list he was making of everyone he'd talked to about the meeting. 

The document was called the Patriotic Rāmian Act. 

"Oh," said Halek as he read it, his chest clenching tighter the further he got. 

Contact with Wend-Ki'ans- banned. 

Owning, possessing, or distributing Wend-Ki'an and sympathetic media- banned. 

Any activity found to be un-Rāmian, that sought to undermine the government or the war effort in any way- banned. 

Gathering in non-household groups larger than ten, except in specific circumstances- banned. 

Travel permits were now required to travel between even Rāmian territories. 

"I have to hide my books," Lí said. "Pao is set in Wend-Ki. The author is Carodic. I have to hide them." 

Halek nodded distantly. The implications for him- and for everyone- were much greater than Lí having to hide their books. 

Lí's books mattered, of course- the Pao and the Worldbreakers series was incredibly important to them. But it was so much bigger than that, even just for their family, and he wasn't sure Lí had fully grasped it all yet. 

QD had been illegal and dangerous before, but it was a lot more dangerous now. Moghrlai Gurodstadit Neighbourhood Support had been legal before- well, mostly- but he suspected a lot of its activities could easily fall into prohibited categories. 

Halek and Juni, having already committed related offences on record, would probably be watched extra closely. The general police harassment would probably get a lot worse.

Berysek was allied with Rāmia, but that didn't mean that their family being immigrants wouldn't be seen negatively and with suspicion (never mind that both Halek's generation and his mother's had been born in Rāmia; Juni hadn't been and their family remained firmly Beri in many ways).

He would lose contact with his friends. He wasn't sure how long he could go without interacting with Juraji and Diihse, especially. 

This new collection of laws, new crimes and harsher punishments, hadn't come entirely unexpectedly, but that didn't make it better, and Halek had only half really believed that something like this would come to pass. 

There was a knock on the door, the special knock that the family used, so Halek got up and pressed the button to open the door with the nub of his wrist. 

Yainogh and Ísel. 

He knew immediately that something was wrong by how subdued Ísel was and how Yainogh was frantically braiding and unbraiding a chunk of his hair. Ísel was only anything close to subdued when she was scared. Yainogh was never subdued, but instead got more frenetic with distress. 

"You've had the decree?" Yainogh asked, leaning heavily on his crutch while unravelling his braid. 

Halek nodded silently. 

"We're going to pick up Maaziariitna," Yainogh said. 

"Or back her up," said Ísel. 

"Or back her up," agreed Yainogh. "His factory is on strike right now. She's on the picket lines. And I think that's very illegal now. Disrupting the war effort and all.”

The bottom of Halek's stomach dropped out. "Oh, shit." He hadn't even thought of that. 

"Do you have money for the train?" Ísel asked. 

"We walked here," Yainogh added, which explained his unusually high amount of trembling. "No return pass." 

"Yeah, just a minute," said Halek. "You can come in and sit down while I go get the emergency funds from my room." 

When he pulled the wallet out from under his mattress, he winced at how little there was in it. It was enough to get them to the Industrial Quarter, but there wouldn't be much left after that. It was uncomfortably little to have in case of emergency. He couldn't exactly flee the country on it. He probably couldn't even buy a full meal with it. 

Maybe there was a kid who needed tutoring or a garden that needed care. Unofficial, one-off gigs were pretty much the only thing he could get hired for, with his arrest record, physical problems, and inconsistent schedule. 

He bit his lip and shoved the train fare in his pocket. He could figure it out later. 

After a moment’s consideration, he popped his hearing aids out of the case on his nightstand and fitted them into his ears. He didn’t want to lose anyone in a crowd.

He tapped his cane anxiously in the elevator. 

"Okay," he said once he was back upstairs. "Let's go."

Soft sunlight shone through the train window as Halek chewed the inside of his cheek impatiently. 

"Your hair is glowing," Yainogh told Ísel. "It looks like chocolate cake." 

Ísel fluffed her well-moisturized short hair in response. 

Halek almost laughed, because Yainogh's hair was as dark and curly as Ísel's and responded the same way to the light, and he certainly had much more of it, but of course he was admiring Ísel's instead of his own. His own was beginning to look incredibly frazzled from all of the braiding and unbraiding and none-too-gentle tugging. 

"We'll be there soon," said Halek, pulling his good leg up onto the seat with him.

There was a seething crowd in front of Maaziariitna's factory. As they got closer, Halek could see police barricades around it. 

"They're already here," Yainogh said, and let out a high-pitched laugh. A clump of hair broke off in his hand, brittle from stress. "Of course they're already here." 

"Be careful," Halek said, putting his wrist on Ísel's low shoulder to stop her approach. 

As Ísel shrugged him off, there was a succession of loud pops. 

Halek's mind went blank, and he wrenched Yainogh and Ísel down onto the damp pavement. 

Roo! 

"Ow!" said Yainogh. "Halek! What the fuck!" 

Halek breathed heavily, his vision starting to clear. 

"Halek," said Yainogh again, shaking his shoulder. "Sú-kogh. Halek." 

"Gunshots," Halek heard himself say. They still echoed in his ears. 

Ísel helped Yainogh to stand. Halek stayed sitting on the ground, rocking a little. 

There was blood on Ísel's knee. 

There was blood on Ísel's knee.

Was there blood anywhere else? Had he failed again? Had they been shot and he hadn't noticed? Had they been shot and they hadn't noticed? 

"I skinned my knee," Ísel said. 

"Sú-kogh, you stay here for now," said Yainogh. "Ísel and I will go get Maaziariitna." 

Ísel and Yainogh would go get Maaziariitna. 

Ísel and Yainogh would get shot. 

"No," Halek rasped. 

"I don't think you should come," said Yainogh gently. 

"No," Halek said again. 

He grabbed a handful of Ísel's pant leg while he waited for his words to stop skipping like a broken music box, because Ísel was more likely than Yainogh to just dive into the fray alone to find Maaziariitna. 

Ísel scowled at him. "You're just afraid to get shot." 

"It's a very reasonable fear, Ísel," said Yainogh. 

He was the Sú-kogh. He wasn't supposed to let them see that. He was supposed to be strong for them. 

Halek tried to speak again, but still all that came out was "No."

He shook his head and raised his wrist to ask them to wait a little longer. 

He closed his eyes and breathed in and out. They hadn't been shot. He was becoming aware of quite a lot of pain in his hip and knee, but that was from throwing himself against concrete without regard for his body. They hadn't been shot. 

"Yainogh," he said. "Go closer and look. Don't go in yet. We need more information. Ísel, stay with me. Please." He didn't want her running in, and he didn't think he should be left alone right now. 

She glared at him, but eventually she said, "Fine, Sú-kogh." 

She said 'Sú-kogh' differently than Yainogh did. Yainogh had been saying it affectionately. Ísel was reluctantly deferring to his authority. 

"I'm sorry I freaked out like that," he said as they waited for Yainogh to complete his reconnaissance. "Did I hurt you other than your knee?" 

She shook her head. "I'm fine. Are you?"

"I'm going to need my wheelchair to get around for the rest of the seg, at least," Halek said, rubbing his knee. "I didn't think." 

"Obviously," said Ísel. 

They didn't talk after that. 

Halek's heartbeat slowly returned to normal. 

Halek watched Yainogh make his way back towards them. 

"They got Maaziariitna," Yainogh said. 

Halek shot upwards, but his knee and hip immediately gave out. "What?" 

Ísel burst into tears, and Yainogh put an arm around her as he continued. "He's been arrested. It's a riot in there. Things are going really badly for the strikers." 

"We're going in to get her," said Ísel. 

Halek said nothing. It made him nauseous to think of Maaziariitna in there alone, and more nauseous to think of going into it and bringing Ísel and Yainogh. He had a responsibility to protect Maaziariitna, but he also had a responsibility to protect Yainogh and Ísel. 

"Halek?" said Yainogh, somewhat harshly. "We're going to get her, aren't we?" 

Halek swallowed painfully and shook his head, holding back tears. "I- I'm going to fix things. I promise. But it's too dangerous to get involved in that right now. I don't want you getting hurt." 

Ísel turned her face against Yainogh's side. 

"What about Maaziariitna?" said Yainogh, yanking out another hank of hair. "We can't let him get hurt either! You're supposed to protect him!" 

"I know," said Halek. He wanted to scream. "I'm supposed to protect you, too, and- and the risks that you'll get hurt or killed outweigh the possibility that we might, maybe be able to find Maaziariitna and rescue him." 

"Fuck you," said Ísel very quietly, her dark brown eyes fixed on him. 

"We're going home," said Halek. 

They didn't speak on the way back. When it was Yainogh and Ísel's stop, Halek said, "Tell Misa I need him. QD." 

Yainogh and Ísel weren't involved in QD, as far as Halek knew (though it wouldn’t surprise him much to find out they were), but they knew that the letters meant something- more importantly, that the letters meant something to Misa, and were an important part of the message- and they probably had a vague idea of what they were. 

"Oh," said Ísel. 

Yainogh nodded. "I'll tell him."

"Maaziariitna has been arrested and I want to break her out," said Halek, getting straight to the point. 

Misa translated his words into Standard Rāmian Sign, which they all knew (though no one really preferred it) but Halek couldn't sign properly because of his lack of a right hand.

 "I second that," added Misa firmly. 

"There are a lot of things to consider here," Saafeera signed, then repeated out loud for Misa, who couldn't see the signs. 

"It's a bad situation, but it could be advantageous," Ailít signed, which Halek repeated automatically for Misa before properly registering what she'd said. 

"How?" he said angrily. 

"Ektanai is no longer working with us, so we don't have anyone inside the Moghrlai Gurodstadit Juvenile Detention Facility," Ailít explained. "Maaziariitna could take that place." 

"Maaziariitna is strong," Waamaed said. 

"I was strong!" 

The conversation stopped, Halek's own heavy breathing echoing in his ears as his chest heaved.

Misa took Halek's hand. "You are strong," he said quietly in Halek's ear. "You are strong, Halek." 

Maybe. He didn't feel strong right now. Even if that was the case, it had taken him so long to get to a point where he could feel strong again, or remotely okay. 

"He's the princess's girl(boy)friend," Waamaed said. "She is protected by that." 

"I'm sorry," said Saafeera. "I think it's too risky to try to break her out right now." 

"I agree," said Waamaed. 

Ailít nodded. 

Halek aggressively flicked his brakes off and left. It was all he could do to keep from following Ísel's example. 

Misa followed him. "Sú-kogh?" he asked. 

"I'm not letting her go through what I did," said Halek. "Even if I have to go rogue." 

Misa nodded. "I'll come over tomorrow. I have to get to work now. I'll start putting together my supplies when I get home." 

"We'll have to blow through concrete," said Halek. 

Misa grinned a little. "Yep. I'll check, but I think I already have enough of everything I need for that." 

"Stay safe on the train," said Halek.

"Sei and Darakēnau will tell them that we're aspiring converts," Míúren was saying as Halek passed through the main room. The lighting was far too bright, and it was surprising that none of his various sensory-sensitive family members had dimmed it. "It will be Prince Danjai in charge of the papers, I assume, and he'll want to make this smooth for his granddaughter." 

"Sú-kogh!" said Aedrii-Nú, running over to him from where she'd been sitting near Nesyue. "You're back!" 

Halek had had enough Sú-kogh-ing for today. 

"Sorry, Rii-rii," he said, gently nudging her hand off his wheelchair. "I'm really tired and my knee hurts. I'm going to have a lie-down. I'll see you later, okay?" 

Aedrii-Nú reluctantly let him go, and once he was downstairs he flopped face-first onto his bed. 

He tried to massage away the headache that felt almost perpetual now. He knew he needed new glasses, but there was so much else to worry about, and he was so tired, and setting up an eye appointment felt like more effort than it was worth, especially now. 

He sighed deeply and turned on the quiet music player by his bed.

***

Halek didn't talk about his time in prison. Not with Maaziariitna, at least. She suspected it was to avoid unnecessarily distressing the both of them, but it had let her anxiety fill in the gaps with the worst horrors she could imagine. 

"Watch it!" she snapped, as if she hadn't been on the verge of tears for a while now, as if she wasn't naked and shivering in front of people who could and would easily hurt her. "I'm Princess Seitlēn's girlfriend. It's not worth the trouble for you if I get hurt." 

The uniform was thin and itchy, and the bra was nowhere near as comfortable or supportive as the stays she was used to. The shirt had the number 538 sewn on.

She pressed three fingers in a W to her lips. A prayer to the Three-Faced God. Specifically to the Parent, to protect her. 

At least they’d given back her leg.

Once she was out of processing, someone cradling a hand to their chest, who looked vaguely familiar, made a beeline towards her. Stitched onto their uniform was the number 216. 

"Are you Halek's cousin?" 

Maaziariitna nodded. "Maaziariitna. She/he." 

"Ektanai, they/it. I thought I recognized you from coming with him sometimes when he visits." 

Oh. Ektanai. 

"He doesn't like coming alone," she said shakily. 

"He doesn't like coming at all," said Ektanai. It cracked a small smile. "He still comes to see me every visiting day, though. He's a sweetheart. Best friend I've ever had." 

Maaziariitna nodded again. 

"I'll look after you," said Ektanai. "I can't promise that I can always protect you, but I can promise to look after you. You'll want to do something about your hair to make it harder to grab you by." 

"Thank you," said Maaziariitna quietly. Halek loved and respected Ektanai, and it had looked after him too. "You've been here for a long time." 

Ektanai sighed. "Yeah. But my twentieth birthday is this year, and I'll be evaluated again, and hopefully then I'll be free. How did you end up here?" 

"I went on strike," said Maaziariitna. "To protest the war." 

"And that's illegal now?" Ektanai looked surprised. 

"Yeah." Maaziariitna's resolve hardened. She did not plan to stay here indefinitely. 

"Oh. That's new." 

"You've been here for years. So you know the layout, guard schedules- things like that?"

***

Sei waited for Maaziariitna to send her her sketch back all day. 

"Sei, walk over to Jēn-Tijani and give her this bowl," Rakiya Idara said, and Sei realized abruptly that it was already dinner time. Already dinner time, and still no response to her sketch. Did Maaziariitna not like it?

When she checked the clan's little portal again, her sketch had been returned, pinned to a note in handwriting she didn't recognize. The Rāmiloq it was written in was too different from the Rāmiloq she spoke, so she handed it to Bello to read. Bello could read a lot of languages. 

"Maaziariitna has been arrested under the new laws for going on strike," Bello said. "This is from her stepfather." 

Maaziariitna... arrested? But only bad people went to jail. But Maaziariitna was a good person. But her empire was basically good. But her empire's new laws had made Maaziariitna go to jail for standing up for what she believed in. 

Sei let out a low whine. Those couldn't all be true at once. Her beliefs were crashing together in her head and collapsing and she didn't know which were true. 

Maybe she should break up with Maaziariitna. Maybe that would be better for them both. She had already been getting uncomfortable about their relationship, feeling less and less of the feelings- why did that always happen?- and maybe they were too much in conflict right now. Her body yearned for Maaziariitna, but she didn’t think her heart still did.

But she liked Maaziariitna. Maaziariitna was patient and good at listening to Sei always talking about clothes and animals and she was interested in clothes too and she was a good kisser and she was pretty. Maybe they could be friends instead. Or something. What would the difference even be, then? She really only had friends through her interest in fashion, but she and Maaziariitna mostly talked about that anyway. Maybe they could just be a little more distant, or something. 

But would she even get to see Maaziariitna anymore, if Maaziariitna had been arrested? 

But Maaziariitna was a good person, she shouldn't have been arrested, and maybe they'd let her out soon when they realized they'd made a mistake? 

Sei felt trapped. Trapped in her brain, in her relationship, in her country, in her body... just trapped.

Seventy-six

50 De Quinto

Maaziariitna mentally repeated everything he had learned about the detention centre so far, both from Ektanai and from general observation, as he ran the sturdy fabric of what would be a military uniform through the sewing machine.

“I like sewing,” Maaziariitna said grimly.

The supervisor for their bench smacked the back of his head. “No talking.”

Maaziariitna shoved his foot down on the treadle as hard as he could, eyes stinging and hands trembling with anger. He imagined that he was stomping on the supervisor’s face.

“Don’t,” Ektanai hissed under their breath, facing forwards but looking at him out of the corner of their eye.

Maaziariitna bit his tongue, and the supervisor moved along.

“Don’t piss them off,” Ektanai said in a low voice. “Halek punched a guard once. They put him in a straightjacket and then solitary confinement, and I had to piece him back together. Don’t follow his example, no matter how angry you get.”

Maaziariitna hadn’t known that about Halek, and found himself somewhat stuck on it. It made sense, he supposed- Halek really didn’t like being alone, and started acting strangely if he was alone for longer than a couple hours.

He was starting to really understand why Halek never talked about his time here. Maaziariitna wasn’t sure he’d be able to talk about it himself if he were here much longer.

“That guard’s not around anymore,” Ektanai whispered, leaning close to Maaziariitna. “Ffwyn took care of it.”

“Good,” said Maaziariitna.

He inhaled deeply.

“Do you smell that?” he whispered to Ektanai.

Ektanai raised an eyebrow.

“Ozone,” Maaziariitna said. He doubted Ektanai would understand the significance of that- Halek very well may never have mentioned being an oxygen mage, and even if he had, a passing detail wouldn’t be likely to be retained for four years- but he needed outside confirmation to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

Ektanai gave a small nod. 

“Halek’s an oxygen mage,” Maaziariitna said.

Ektanai’s mouth formed an O. “Go,” they said. “Follow it. I’ll distract them. I hope you don’t come back.”

“You sure?”

Ektanai nodded, studying their hands, then grimaced and shoved their already-injured hand into the sewing machine.

Maaziariitna screamed. The person on Ektanai’s other side screamed. The person across from them said “Oh my gods.” Someone else shouted for help.

Go, Ektanai mouthed. 

In the chaos, Maaziariitna ran.

He followed the smell of ozone to a small window in an empty part of the prison.

Tentatively, he knocked on the wall below it in the pattern the cousins used.

A voice- Misa’s voice- shouted “Stand back!”

Maaziariitna rapidly retreated from the wall, just in time for it to blow open.

“Go!” said Misa. “Don’t touch the sharp bits or the hot bits! Go, go, go!”

Maaziariitna jumped over the smoldering bottom of the wall, and Halek caught his arm to steady him. Not even his eyes were visible- fairy eyes were too recognizable to risk, probably, since Misa’s brown eyes weren’t covered- but Maaziariitna still recognized the shape of him. 

I had to piece him back together. Maaziariitna met Halek’s eyes through his sunglasses. “I’m sorry.” 

“You didn’t put yourself in jail, kogh,” Misa said, rapidly shoving any evidence into a bag.

That wasn’t what he’d meant.

“Maaz! Come on!”

“Mapa!” said Maaziariitna, looking over in delight. Ystraddø was on the pavement nearby, idling on his motorcycle. A second helmet- Maaziariitna’s helmet- hung off the handlebars.

“Go,” said Halek. “We’ll talk later.”

“What about you?” He didn’t want to leave them alone to face whatever that alarm was heralding.

“We’ll handle it,” said Misa, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “We’re good at disappearing.”

Halek nodded, and Maaziariitna ran and swung his leg over the motorcycle.

***

Lí clicked a pen and played with the chain on their pants. The waiting room smelled like cleaning products. 

“It will be alright,” Míúren said. 

“I’m not very good at… you know,” said Lí. “Saying the right thing.”

“Give the shortest answers you can,” Niimféo-Elús. “Don’t volunteer any information. Keep things simple, and don’t lie unnecessarily. If they ask you something you don’t feel like you can answer, tell them you don’t know or don’t remember, and hopefully they will ask one of us instead.”

“We’ve practiced this,” said Míúren. “Just like theatre.”

Lí nodded. They could do theatre. They could pretend to be someone else. They weren’t sure how well they could pretend to be themself-but-not-quite.

This Lí did not have strong political opinions. This Lí had little in common with their radical brother and grandkether. This Lí was very average. This Lí wanted to be Telish. This Lí’s brother was sick, not frequently leaving the country for tendays at a time. This Lí was okay with abandoning Pao and the Worldbreakers in light of the new laws.

“Kiureik-awn Hykki Aréaltalí-Aisún?”

Lí swallowed and stood up. “That’s me.”

“Follow me, please.”

Lí glanced nervously at Míúren, who squeezed their hand and nodded.

They were led into an unpleasant, small, grey room with very bright lights, where they waited for a little longer before someone came to sit in the chair on the other side of the plain desk from them.

“I am Aetnw-dhà,” said the interviewer in Standard Lowlands Rāmiloq, adjusting their glasses. “Please confirm your name and date of birth.”

Lí did.

“What is your reason for requesting an internal passport?”

Lí tried to sit still to avoid giving away their nervousness with their stimming. They couldn’t keep up stillness for very long, but maybe they could last through this interview. “Princess Seitlēn has kindly invited my mother, my grandmother, and myself as guests on her pilgrimage, as part of our conversion process to the Telish religion.”

“Why?”

Lí was thrown off. “Why what?”

“Why has the princess invited you?”

“She’s dating my cousin,” said Lí. “I think it’s a favour to him. I don’t actually know her very well.” 

What if that had been saying too much? Niimféo-Elús had said not to volunteer any information, and they hadn’t been asked how well they knew Sei. Was it suspicious that they didn’t know each other well?

“Are you employed?” the interviewer asked.

“Yes,” said Lí, glad to be back on steadier ground. “I’m a tutor at my school. I help lower-level students with their classes, mostly languages. I’m good at languages,” they added with pride.

“I understand you live with your grandkether. You are aware that ze is classified as a threat to the empire?”

“Minor threat,” Lí said. “I live with hir. I live with a lot of people.”

“How close are you?”

“I’m a lot closer with my grandmother,” said Lí, which was true. Halek and Juni were close, especially since Halek’s imprisonment, but Lí and Juni had always rubbed each other a bit wrong.

“And your brother has a criminal record from a few years ago.”

“Yes,” said Lí. “He’s mellowed out since then. He’s no longer near the beginning of puberty and he takes medicine to stabilize his mood. Being arrested… changed him.” They couldn’t make themself say it had been good for him, even as a farce. Not when he’d been loud, and lively, and happy, and then all of that had been gone when he’d come home, and he’d flinched when they hugged him. Not with how he’d been since Maaziariitna’s arrest. "It's been five years."

“Are you involved in any political agitation?”

“Not really,” said Lí, which was… somewhere between a lie and not. They didn’t have the energy to go to protests most of the time, and they wouldn’t call handing out flyers for the municipal election ‘agitation.’ 

“What are your political beliefs? Do you share any with your brother and grandkether?”

“Uh,” said Lí. They’d come up with a script for this, but it was taking too long to remember. “No. I’m not like them. You know, they’re very radical, and… I’m not…” Heat rose to their face as they stumbled, trying to buy time. 

Liar, said Halek’s voice in their ear, devoid of the teasing tone the real Halek’s would have taken.

Do not disavow me, said Juni’s, which was believable as something ze’d say but probably not in this kind of situation. Juni had always been pretty clear about lying to the authorities about things that could get them in trouble like that.

“I think it kind of stinks that we’re at war,” they said. “I trust that it was going to happen one way or another, though. Better we’re attacking first. And I think the mayor should fix the potholes in my street that have been there for years and keep growing every time there’s ice.”

Their interviewer laughed quietly at that. Potholes were a shared misery of many in Moghrlai Gurodstadit.

“I’m not very political, really,” they finished awkwardly. “I’m more concerned with school and my friend being a Cardinal Scribe fated to die young and stuff right now.”

“That’s fair,” said their interviewer. “You’re only, what…”

“Fifteen,” said Lí, who had just given the interviewer their birth date. They were irritated by the implication that people their age shouldn’t have political beliefs or be involved in things.

“How long have you been wanting to convert?”

“About a year,” said Lí, picking an amount of time they thought seemed reasonable. “I’m not sure when it really hit me that I wanted to be Telish… I’ve been interested in the religion for a long time.”

“How come?”

“I had a baby brother who died, and my best friend is slowly dying from using divine magic,” said Lí. They had been very young when Nieraus-aer had been born a year after Roo, and still very young when he’d returned to the air. They didn’t remember very much, and treasured the memories of him they did have. “I like the theology they have around the dead, that they don’t cease to exist after ghosthood but instead become part of a collective guiding us. I like the strength of their community. I hope that soon it will be my community too.”

“Why are your mother and grandmother also converting?”

“They got interested after I said I wanted to,” said Lí. “I think it’s about my little brother for them too, but I’m not sure. It’s pretty personal to everyone.”

Eventually, when the interviewer finally finished their questioning, they left Lí sitting in the room. 

Their voice and a couple others drifted under the door. Lí had superb hearing- Halek had always joked that they’d stolen some from him, which had confused Lí because he’d been born years before them.

The officials did not seem enthusiastic about giving them passports, which made Lí panic until one of them said something about ‘pressure from the top.’

That must mean Sei and Rakiya Idara had succeeded in convincing Danjai that Lí’s family needed to come to Elissat with them.

The interviewer came back into the room and handed Lí a booklet and a pen. “You and a legal guardian need to sign this,” they said.

Lí signed their name with one hand flapping in the air beside them.

***

Halek had been spending hours with her in the hospital, but today he had only come by briefly to bring her fresh flowers because the scent of the other ones had worn out, and Rovian was lonely.

She didn’t know where Halek was. She wished he was with her.

Daanah was going to come later in the afternoon, but both her parents had had to go back to work, and Ailít had to work today too. 

She was bored, too. She wanted something to distract her from the pain in her back and numbness in her legs.

She would get to go home soon, she’d been told, but not yet.

The bright light above her door blinked to alert her that someone was going to come in. Probably a nurse, back to check her blood pressure again. 

It wasn’t a hospital nurse, though. Kowlam walked in with his long cane in one hand and his nurse’s arm in the other.

A balloon of happiness expanded in Rovian’s chest. Kowlam hadn’t visited yet, and she’d thought maybe he couldn’t, maybe even with his nurse he couldn’t navigate the hospital well enough. He was DeafBlind like her, and she’d had a hard enough time navigating it before her injury, with more residual vision than he had and no intellectual disability. But here he was.

Kowlam was a skater too. He would understand her feelings in a way others couldn’t.

Kowlam’s nurse guided him to sit on Rovian’s bed, before disappearing out of Rovian’s narrow field of vision to where Rovian knew there was a chair.

She found Kowlam’s hand with her own and lifted it to greet him.

“I heard you fell. Broke your back,” Kowlam said, Touch-Talking across Rovian’s arm.

“Yes,” Rovian Touch-Talked back. “I fell from very high. I can’t skate anymore.”

Kowlam’s hand on her chest must have been able to feel her start crying. “Sad,” he said, then lay his head on her belly. “Sadness is good to cry.” 

Daanah arrived fairly soon after Kowlam left. Her hand was shaking when she greeted Rovian.

“Are you sick again?” Rovian asked. “You shouldn’t have come if you are.” Personally, she didn’t think Daanah should come to the hospital at all, regardless of if she was sick or not, because of how easily she picked viruses up now, but it was Daanah’s immune system and Daanah’s choice to risk getting sick.

“I’m not sick,” Daanah replied, the bed shifting as she sat down.

They sat without talking for a minute, then Daanah said, “It’s my fault.”

“What’s your fault?” Rovian asked, feeling panic start to take hold. Had something happened while she’d been in the hospital? Was that why Halek had stayed for so little time this morning? Was that why he’d asked her to pretend he’d been here for longer if anyone asked? 

“You can’t walk anymore,” said Daanah. “You can’t skate anymore. You got hurt, and I couldn’t heal you because I wasted all my power on saving Miwaanii-Shémelús instead of you.”