Page 189 of Seven Oars
She wasn’tRisana.
Chapter 27
After Nud and Xorris dumped Fincros in the Cargo Hold, Rosamma huddled next to him and fed him her energy under the watchful gazes of Eze and Gro.
It took Fincros a long time to regain consciousness.
He was weak and disoriented. His right ankle swelled up ominously, and he couldn’t stand on his own.
He still couldn’t see.
Rosamma also fed him small chunks of over-processed poultry that he slowly chewed on the right side of his mouth. The left side was devoid of teeth, courtesy of Esseh’s fist.
“They’ll grow back,” he muttered, more worried about his broken foot and damaged right shoulder.“When things go to shit, I want to be able to move.”
Eze glared.“And where do you think things are now?”
“In balance.” His tone was dead serious.“Phex will keep it that way if he wants to survive.”
“I’m not sure we should care if he survives,” Eze remarked.“If he dies, a lot of our problems will disappear.”
“This station needs a crew to run it. Someone has to make decisions. That’s him, because I’m done.” Fincros made like he wanted to shrug, but the gesture was quickly aborted.“He asked for it.”
Rosamma murmured,“Not to be contrary, but it was more like he was captured and had no choice.”
A hint of a smile tugged at his mouth.“We all have a choice, stardust. He’s the Striker now, and he’d better learn how to strike.”
“He will, unfortunately. He’s a defender.”
“Trust me, it’s not the same.” He closed his ruined eyes.
“That’s right, you’re apparently also a defender,” Eze said drily.“Just like Phex. Yay.”
Fincros said nothing for a long moment, then muttered,“Better.”
Rosamma’s eyebrows inched up.“I see your sense of entitlement is intact, at least.”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Phex’s bloodline is humble; mine was distinguished.”
“Oh, my. Does it matter?”
“A great deal.”
Rosamma chuckled despite herself.
“What were you doing on Sir-Sar with your distinguished bloodline?”
“I was captured in a pirate raid by Leithis, the Shadow Flyer’s father,” Fincros said evenly.
“Huh. You make it sound very straightforward.”
“I don’t know how it sounds. I’ve never talked about it,” he said.
“That’s okay,” Rosamma touched his hand lightly.
Instead of staying still, he caught her fingers and wove them in an intricate knot unique to the two of them. Rosamma was keenly aware of Eze and Gro watching.
“Maybe you do need to know,” he finally said. He knew there were other women in the room, listening.“I was born on Enzomora into a defender clan of great distinction, the seventh of nine children and the youngest son.”
