“Youkilledthem,” said the jaghirdar, sounding stunned. “They were just standing there, doing their jobs and serving me as they were sworn to do, and youkilledthem.”

“They had weapons,” I snapped. “They pointed those weapons at me. Anyone who’s ever met me knows that’s a shooting offense. Now unless you want me to kill more of your loyal lackies, you’ll call them the hell off and let me leave.”

“You have made enemies here on this day,” said the jaghirdar. “You will never walk untroubled in my lands!”

“Let me leave now and I won’t give a shit,” I replied. “I don’t want to linger here, I don’t want to be a thorn in your side, I don’t want to shoot anyone else. I just want to leave.”

“Then go.”

I didn’t turn. Turning your back on enemies is a clever way not to have any more enemies, because corpses aren’t big on rivalries. Instead, I backed toward the door we’d entered through, watching as the other two spear carriers landed and all of them moved toward the bodies, beginning to pull them into carrying holds. They’d eat well tonight.

No one stopped me from getting to the door. No one was waiting on the stairs, and when I descended them, looking around and up as rapidly as I could, no one appeared to threaten or interfere. This had been a painful interlude. It was done now.

Time to get back to business.

Finally turning around, I holstered one revolver and kept the other in my hand as I began to run.

Eight

“Never knew my folks, and I turned out okay. It’s the love that matters, not whether or not you’re related to the people giving it to you. It’s always the love.”

—Frances Brown

Running through Cornale, which is just as unpleasant as anticipated, heading for something that’s probably even worse, because that’s agreatidea

I made it tothe edge of the city—about a half mile, if I was judging the distance right—before anyone sounded an alarm. A great bell rang from the center of the city, and the sky was suddenly alight with winged bodies, so many that for a moment they seemed to blot out the sun. I had time to hope that what I’d just heard was all of them being summoned for dinner, and then they began to wheel overhead, clearly pursuing me.

Great. This was just what my day needed, and not an intrusion by an uncaring universe. I ran full tilt down the narrow road leading to the door in the gate, shouting, “Come the fuck on!” at the sky full of bodies. Some of them had spears. More of them carried no visible weapons. It didn’t matter. They had numbers on their side, and I didn’t know the terrain like they did.

The gate in the wall was swinging shut even as I approached, which was ridiculous. These people could fly. Unless they shared this world with a ground-dwelling species that liked to come over without being invited—which might well be the case—there was no reason for them to bother with gates,orwith walls. I pulled one of the ancient grenades that my grandkids are always giving me shit for carrying off of my belt, glad that I had thought to keep gearing up even as I was in transit. Never assume you’re going to be safe unless you control the perimeter completely, and even then, it’s probably best to check for traps.

I waited to yank the pin until I was almost at the wall, then chucked the grenade as hard as I could for the closing gate, wheeling around and running back the way I’d come. My sudden change of direction confused the people wheeling overhead. Some of them tried to change directions to match me and slammed into their neighbors, raining down from the sky in a tangle of wings and limbs. Good for them. I hoped hitting the ground would hurt.

And maybe they’d be grateful for the fall once their lower altitude kept them from being caught in the blast.

I ducked into another narrow alley and crouched down, putting my hands over my ears. A great, concussive boom came right on the heels of the gesture as the wall learned why it didn’t want to make friends with grenades. I waited until the screaming and the sound of falling debris mostly died down, then stood and strolled out of the alley, holding another grenade overhead.

“I can do that again,” I shouted. Even if not everyone would be able to understand me, they would understand the implied threat of the grenade in my hand. Winged bodies littered the ground. Others, who had been helping them, froze and stared. It was nice to not be running for a moment. It would be even nicer if I didn’t have to start back up. “If you stop chasing me, I won’t.”

I turned to jab the grenade at the nearest people, who shrank back. The ones with spears either dropped them or pointed them ostentatiously away from me, which was fine. I didn’t need them defenseless, especially not when I’d just blown a huge hole in their wall. I needed them to leave me alone.

“I’m out,” I said, and continued toward the hole I’d made. “Maybe you should learn about explosives.”

Even if I’d just triggered a new evolution in local warfare, it wasn’t going to happen soon enough to stop me at this point. I picked my way through the rubble, turning to look back at the stunned, staring locals once I was safely on the other side.

“My name’s Alice,” I called. “And I am out of here.”

Then I continued on my way.

This time, they didn’t pursue.

The land outside the city was the barren, blasted scrub I had been expecting from my last visit, but this time I looked at it with new eyes, noting the places that could have been gullies or could have been dryriverbeds, the high-water marks on rocks that had no water anywhere nearby, the fallen, dried-out tree trunks too large to have been supported by this ecosystem.

No wonder the people were hungry enough to be willing to eat strangers. Their land was dying.

I kept walking, trying to follow the directions I’d been given, reorienting myself as I adjusted for the trip through the city pulling me off course. Eventually, I was sure I’d gone at least three miles—possibly closer to four—and I sat down on a large rock (after giving it a few solid kicks to be sure it wasn’t secretly a large turtle that would bite my ass off) and put my hands over my face, taking a moment to just breathe.

I’d come all this way. Not just this trip, which had allowed me to foolishly get my hopes up, but over the last fifty years. I’d given up so much. I’d killed so many people who wouldn’t have needed to die if I’d just stayed on Earth like I was supposed to, never crossing their paths in the first place, and for what? To miss my opening because some hungry assholes pulled me off the path?