The Red of the Writing

Nine | Rija

"Who are you?" Tanik's voice, slightly muffled behind the wood of the door, asks.

To my surprise, it isn't a man's voice that answers. It's a woman's. "People who need your help."

My mind races, trying to process the new information. If this is the Kaval, they've really stepped up their game. I've never heard of them employing women.

"And why do you think I can help you?"

The woman doesn't miss a beat. "Because she's running from the government. And you guys have a lot of practice with that, don't you?"

Claws of horror seize my heart, painfully tight. Tanik sucks in a sharp breath. They know.

"Get in." His voice is stern, but there's an undercurrent of the same fear I'm feeling right now. "Get in, right now."

The sound of shoes hitting wood fills the air as they move to obey.

The first person that appears through the door is a brown-haired woman, with pale skin and steel gray eyes. She's skittish, I note with some relief - Her hands, never far from one another, clutch her faded dress like it's her lifeline. Her eyes anxiously flicker all around the main living area, from the stairs, to the sofa, to the najrang cards still spread across the center table, and a hundred other places in between. Kaval are never skittish.

But the second woman - despite her gender, she looks like a Kaval agent through and through. Physically, her appearance is mostly ordinary - slightly darker brown hair, olive skin, and brilliant blue eyes that remind me of the sea. Even the fact that she's dressed in a dark t-shirt and trousers - men's clothes - and that she's wearing a black cape with an oversized hood over them can be overlooked. But it's the way she holds herself that sets her apart; everything about her radiates confidence. The kind of confidence that only comes from knowing that no matter what you face, you'll always end up on top.

Unlike the first woman, the second woman's eyes land on me almost immediately. There's nothing nervous in her gaze - on the contrary, it's efficient, sweeping me for weapons, presumably.

I guess it's a good thing that my greatest weapon isn't the knife in my hand.

She finishes her assessment quickly, sending me a small nod before turning back to Tanik.

"What do you want?" Tanik gets directly to the point.

The blue-eyed woman arches an eyebrow. "What, no greeting? No offers for lavender tea? I'm almost offended, Tanik."

Tanik stiffens. I tense as well, and even catch the other woman doing the same.

Tanik didn't introduce himself.

"Cut the nonsense." Tanik demands, temper clearly fraying. "We're not here to play games."

Boldly, the woman ignores him, her eyes roaming around the room until they rest on me. "I'm sorry, I only know you as 'Iza'. But that's not your real name, is it?" She flashes me a grin, but somehow, it looks more like a dog baring its teeth. "I guess being an illegal Azovi refugee comes in handy in that aspect, though."

I stumble backwards a little, cursing myself for the weakness, but unable to help myself. She knows. She knows. How does she know?

It's one word. Just one word. But that one word gives this stranger the power to ruin me.

Illegal.

"I'm going to ask you one more time." Tanik steps forward, and it doesn't escape my notice how his body partially blocks the blue-eyed woman's line of sight to me. Mjiva. "What do you want?"