Fraternizing with crazies

Stupid!

Stupid!

I'm so stupid, Shai thought. Her temper cooled down right away, and the stupidity of her actions washed over her immediately. Obviously she couldn't be hired with the Marshwaters now. Even if someone else in their caravan wanted to hire her, they probably wouldn't want to cross that rude shouting guy.

Miserably, she resolved to find another employer. She spent the rest of the afternoon putting on fake smiles, wheedling and boasting about her merits. Even so, by the time the yellow of the sun had faded to red, she had been rejected a dozen times. It wasn't as if jobs were easy to be had. And it wasn't like people would pick a short, stocky female guard when they could have their pick of the big, tough-looking folks.

Shai counted and recounted her coins dejectedly. Well, at least she wasn't going to starve tomorrow. However, her meagre savings wouldn't last through the summer, especially if she had to spend it on rooms at inns. Despite this, sleeping in alleyways wasn't an option. She had done it before, no doubt, but she had done so in spring or autumn. If she tried to sleep unprotected now, with the sun gods gearing up for a scorchingly hot summer, she'd die.

Involuntarily, her eyes sought out the small figure collapsed in a heap on the edge of the market. That boy hadn't moved all day. No water, nor coin went his way. Shai knew it in her bones that he would die. He hadn't consumed anything all day, and he had been baking in that sun. Now that the sun was setting, the night would be cooler, but with the cobblestones of the market still radiating heat from the afternoon, the air would be even drier. The boy would fall asleep. Then, he would die as his body gave moisture to the air, and got none of it back.

Shai found herself counting and recounting her small stack of coins again in her head. He was a shameless fake, she reminded herself sternly. But in all the time she had been watching, he never stirred. Perhaps his bout of energy had been one last, desperate attempt to cling onto life.

Well, shit.

Damn my bleeding heart, Shai cursed at herself. She was certain that somewhere, there were demons laughing at her. Still, she decided that she could afford to help him. For tonight, at least.

Mind made up, she crossed the emptying market square quickly. The boy didn't stir, even when she was standing right in front of him. Shai's heart thumped uneasily. Could he already be dead? But no, she saw the shallow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. He didn't move in any other way.

Standing there, and now that she was no longer angry at him, Shai was suddenly aware of how fragile he looked. How fragile he was. His delicate hands were limp on the stone cobbles, and he was curled defensively against the world, even in unconsciousness.

She shook off her stupefied state and shook the boy's shoulder. No response. She shook him harder. No response.

Shai felt herself go cold. The market air felt stiflingly warm against her face.

It might be too late for this kid. If only she had helped him earlier, he might have had a future. If he died, it would be partially her fault.

Shai grabbed his wrist and violently pulled him up. Fighting against bandits and scavengers was one thing, ignoring poor kids—okay, he was about the same age as she was, but still—as they died by the wayside was another. She wasn't going to let it happen.

She draped his right arm across her shoulders and straightened him up. His head lolled lifelessly to the side.

She could probably find them some stables to stay in for tonight. It would be shelter enough, and cheaper than the inn. She had slept in worse.

Thus, Shai began making her way doggedly to the inn's stables. She reckoned they were mostly empty now. Few could afford to water both their horses and themselves, unless they were traders who were part of a caravan. However, the horses of caravans were often sheltered beside the carts of the caravans so the stables were probably echoingly empty. The inn keepers would probably be happy to rent out a stall or two.

Shai altered between watching where she was going—the cobbles were bumpy in places—and craning her neck to stare at the boy in concern. He still wasn't showing any signs of life, other than the occasional exhalation. At least he was easy enough to transport.

Shai wasn't weak, but she wasn't a god either. She couldn't be expected to lift full grown men and walk any distance reliably, but she was having little trouble with this guy. By the gods, was he light! He had all the substance of a cloud. She was half worried that he would simply float away, or evaporate like the sparse winter snow. Happily—or perhaps unfortunately—he did neither, and they easily made it to the stables.

It seemed Shai wasn't the only one who thought of the stables as cheap accommodations. Either that, or the inn was full to the rafters. There were two other groups occupying their own stalls, but they didn't bat an eye at her or her luggage. The young stable hand was helpful, showing her to a stall that was mostly clean of horse smell, and full of clean, fresh hay for bedding. Shai even managed to buy two full water skins from him for a half-penny. Then, she gratefully collapsed into the pile of hay. It prickled and itched, but she ignored it.

After a few moments, the stable boy came back with the water. He first warned her not to set fires in the stables like an imbecile, at which Shai rolled her eyes, then retired to his little corner of the stables near the door to watch for more guests, or, more likely, to fall asleep.

Shai fished out a much wrinkled handkerchief from her pocket, since it was better than nothing, and dipped a corner of it into the water. She stuck the wet cloth into the boy's mouth and touched the tip of her nose with a careful fingertip for luck.

"I hope he's only partially dead, rather than mostly dead," she murmured. "Please, tiny gods. I'm too young to kill someone out of neglect."

He didn't react. The thought seemed to reverberate in her skull in a panic. He's not reacting. Even to water. He's not reacting. He's not—

His green eyes flashed open.

"Bloody gods!" Shai cursed, nearly spilling the water. The shock of having a dead person stare at you really was strong.

The boy sat up abruptly. Shai backpedalled hurriedly, putting space between them in case she needed to draw her sword. Instead of doing anything threatening, the boy smiled wistfully and said, "Thank you. Blessings of the gods upon you." The smile made him look younger and even more like a kid than he already did. His gaze was strangely heavy though, and it didn't match his youthful face. Shai only noticed it now, but he spoke his words a bit stiffly, carefully, as if they were foreign to him. Despite this, he didn't have a foreign accent.

"May I have some more water?"

She handed him the water skin numbly. "Take it slow or you'll be sick," she advised woodenly. Finally, her brain caught up with the situation and started working again. "Blessings of the gods upon me?" she parroted his earlier phrase. "Who are you to say that? Only the high priests of each god may beseech their god for a divine blessing." It wasn't a phrase to be thrown about casually. Internally, she was sweating bullets. If he really was a high priest and he had been offended at their earlier meeting, he could have her executed, no questions asked. Then again, what would a high priest be doing dying on the ground in the market?

After the boy took a few careful sips of water, he responded seriously, "I'm a god!"

Okay, so he was just a nutcase.