Page 89 of The Nameless Ones

‘You tried to hurt my father. You tried to kill him.’

The girl spoke softly, but there was no mistaking the rage in her voice, or the threat.

‘That was not my doing,’ said Zorya.

‘You’re a liar!’

Jennifer slashed at her with her right hand. Zorya felt the nails tear into her left cheek, but when she touched the skin, she could find no wounds. There was only pain.

‘Stop!’ said Zorya. ‘This won’t help anything.’

Jennifer relented, and peered at her curiously.

‘How old are you?’ she said.

‘I don’t know,’ said Zorya, and she was telling the truth. ‘I don’t look old, and I don’t feel old, but I remember so much.’

Jennifer sniffed the fingers of her right hand.

‘You smell bad,’ she said. ‘Like you’re rotting.’

‘I’m weary,’ said Zorya. ‘I need to sleep.’

‘Then sleep.’

‘I can’t, not while I know you’re looking for me.’

‘You should have thought of that before you set out to harm my father,’ said Jennifer. ‘Do you know what I think? You were hoping that if he was killed, you’d isolate me; that if he was dead, my connection to his world would come to an end, and he and I would be just like the rest.’

She gestured to the water, at the ones who would soon forget what they once had been.

‘Was I mistaken?’ said Zorya.

Jennifer did not reply, but her eyes gave her away. Jennifer Parker was not as old as Zorya, and had not yet learned to hide her feelings. Zorya had been right: the father was the key.

‘You shouldn’t have tried,’ said Jennifer.

‘I agree,’ said Zorya. ‘I should not have sown the idea in their heads. I want to make up for it. I can give the Vuksans to the ones who are hunting them.’

‘They’ll find them with or without your help.’

‘Possibly, but I won’t stand in their way, and I won’t warn the Vuksans of their approach.’

Jennifer was staring at Zorya’s hands.

‘You have very sharp nails,’ she said, ‘much sharper than mine, and your fingers are very long.’

Zorya tried to hide them by folding them into her fists, and felt the fingernails digging into her palms. She pressed down harder, welcoming the sting. It reminded her that she was not yet entirely as this girl was.

‘How many people have you hurt with them?’ Jennifer continued. ‘That’s what you sometimes do, isn’t it? You tear at them with your nails. Perhaps a long time ago, so long ago that you’ve almost forgotten the details, someone hurt you, and now you hurt others in return.’

Zorya twitched, as though to shake off the buzzing of a fly.

‘No one hurt me,’ said Zorya.

‘I don’t believe you,’ said Jennifer, ‘but you still have to be stopped.’

Jennifer was very fast, so fast that Zorya didn’t even see her hand move. Her right index finger cut a line across Zorya’s chin. This time, Zorya felt the skin open, and the wound began to bleed.

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