Page 31 of Null & Void

I follow him, and Bitty tells us that both Beans and Tovi have retired for the evening.

“Another drink, Riley?” Bitty asks, finishing their beer.

Riley hesitates for a fraction. “Not tonight. I think I might call it and go to bed too.”

I can see his beer from earlier looking flat and untouched. Bitty looks at me hopefully, and I shake my head. “I’m happy to sit with you or dance some more, but no drinking for me.”

“You both suck.” Bitty whines with a pout, which makes Riley laugh. He kisses them on top of the head and says goodnight.

Riley’s hand reaches out to hold the back of my neck gently as he leans in. “Thanks for the dance, Firecat.” His thumb caresses the top of my spine before he lets go and backs away.

“My name is Mika,” I manage to say as I roll my eyes at him, hoping to distract from my erratic pulse. He grins, mouthing goodnight with a smoldering look in his eye, spinning around to leave the smokehouse. I mumble goodnight under my breath. My world is spinning way too fast.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Bitty and I don’t stay out much longer, both of us yawning excessively within the hour. We’re sharing a room as there were only four available for the five of us. In an exhausted silence, we use the cleaning powder to scrub our teeth and then collapse into our tiny—but extraordinarily comfortable—cots.

I wake to Bitty opening our door. They’re getting something from outside, and I realize it’s our breakfast as it’s already morning. In their arms is a basket, one filled with double servings of everything: still warm sweet bread rolls with a twist of sticky cinnamon paste, a small bowl of roasted faegel berries, a big plate of scrambled eggs with what looks like chunks of smoked meat through it, and a big jar of noni juice to share.

I didn’t think I would be hungry after eating so much last night, but Bitty and I devour our breakfast, a fight almost breaking out over the last faegel berry. Sitting on the floor, rubbing our bellies, we argue over who has to wash first. It’s a trade-off because getting to wash first means you get the cleanest water, but neither of us wants to get up yet.

In the end, I go first because Bitty claims they got breakfast, so I owe them. Our room is small, with only the two cots we slept in and a table with a built-in basin. A fresh jug of water was delivered with our breakfast. The basin has a drain that clears the water down and out of the room, so I pull the chained plug to get rid of last night’s dirty water.

Bitty cleans up our breakfast and then rests on their cot while I wash. One of the downsides of sharing a room is not getting to wash my hair because I don’t want to sully the water even more for Bitty. There is a light knock at the door and an attendant hands us another jug, apologizing they didn’t have enough earlier. I take the Divine hint that I should wash my hair. Bitty is thanking the attendant when I call out to see if they have any shears I can borrow.

“Of course,” the attendant says with no hint of curiosity. “I’ll be just a moment and bring them back for you.”

Giving me a skeptical look, Bitty asks why I want shears.

“Can I ask a favor?” I ask Bitty, grinning.

Reluctantly, Bitty cuts my hair for me, and the relief is immediate. It had grown a bit these last few weeks—moons—traveling, and the Erdu heat makes it uncomfortable.

Not surprisingly, traveling with an inch less hair is much cooler. I can leave my hair out without the back of my neck getting too hot or needing to tie it up and feeling stifled.

“Nice hair,” Riley teases, flicking my wild, golden blonde strands and making me jump.

The rest of the group is farther ahead, with Beans leading and Tovi carrying Bitty on their shoulders. Bitty is demonstrating something dramatically in the air with their hands, and though Tovi wouldn’t be able to see, her laughter is no less enthusiastic.

Meaning: Riley and I are alone. Again. The thrill sends the rage clawing in my chest into a frenzy.

“You’re an incorrigible flirt, Riley,” I declare, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe I just like to see you squirm.” He leers, adding, “Your hair does look nice though. I like being able to see your neck.” He showers me with a handful of yellow petals that I didn’t realize he’d been picking.

“Incorrigible!” I yell, glowering at his back as he races off to annoy Tovi and Bitty next. I stuff a handful of the petals in a pocket. I’m not sure why.

It’s already dark by the time we finish our lackluster dinner. We opt to clean our dishes the next morning so we can get to sleep early. Beans takes the first watch, and the rest of us don’t complain as we settle into our bedrolls, exhausted from a long day.

When I’m woken for my watch, it’s earlier than I expected. Beans grimaces and leans back on his haunches.

“Bitty is unwell and has been vomiting for an hour. They’re alright, but are in no state to stand watch,” he says with a quick glance at Bitty’s huddled form.

I gladly take their place and extend my watch to cover them.

In the morning, Bitty is still not well. They are queasy and nauseous, so Beans suggests we should stay to give them a day to recover. They spend the morning in their bedroll, only moving to vomit a small distance away.

It’s a hot day. Beans takes Bitty to an almost dry creek bed nearby to cool down and wash away the sick. Tovi, Riley, and I throw a sheathed knife like it’s a hot potato, trying to cure our boredom while it’s far too hot to spar, even in the shade. We keep adding rules to our makeshift game. First, you can only catch the handle, then everything is one-handed, and you can only hold on to it for a second before you have to throw it, and it can be to any one of us.

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