Over the next week, I devoted most of my time and energy to training. As the group gained proficiency in the basics and learned to trust me and each other, I implemented more complicated drills. The training progressed too quickly for many fighters, but none complained. They knew why we could not slow down.
Soon, the wooden swords would be metal ones. Soon, one wrong move could spell death.
During training and mealtimes, Izra exuded composure, seemingly undaunted by the approaching battle and unaffected by my presence. But whenever we caught a moment alone, she unveiled her other side — an intoxicating blend of magnetism and shyness, of confidence and vulnerability.
We stole sweaty kisses between training sessions, and at the end of each day, we crawled into bed together. Some nights, we explored each other's bodies. Most nights, we simply fell asleep in each other's arms.
On the morning before the Day of Acrador, I ate breakfast with Ru, Plu, Navi and Alira. Navi presented a fuzzy knitted scarf to Plu, who blushed and grinned — until he handed an identical one to Ru.
"Goddess bless your day of birth tomorrow, Plu," Navi mumbled. He blinked rapidly and swallowed. "And Ru."
Plu flashed a pained smile. "You too." Then she sank into her seat and croaked, "I mean, thank you."
Ru sighed, and Alira chimed in with some kind of reassuring platitude.
But a smell yanked my attention out of the conversation.
One of the cooks carried a steaming plate toward our table, and the sweet and spicy aroma invaded my nose, my mind, and my heart. Cinnamon cake crisps.
My muscles locked up, and my breath cut short. "No. No, stop."
"What did you say, Epsa?"
Alira's voice sounded just like my mother's.
Epsa, did you say something, sweetheart?
Pinching my thigh hard enough to sting, I swung a glance at the tables surrounding ours. The rest of Rashika's Resistance ate, talked, and even laughed, as though our victory was certain. They trusted me.
But what if I was not strong enough? What if these brave warriors died as quickly as my mother had?
"No, no, no." I pushed up from the table, and the room swayed before my eyes.
Pudgy fingers closed over my forearm, and Alira's voice tinkled near my ear. "Epsa, are you alright? Just take a breath and count to ten for me, dear."
Just keep counting, and don't come out or make any sound.
I was vaguely aware of my chair tipping over sideways and clattering to the ground. Then my knees weakened, and a boneless tremble overtook my body.
More voices joined Alira's, but I could no longer distinguish words. My lungs expanded and constricted without finding air. Cold drenched my chest, and darkness invaded my vision.
A sharp voice cut through the white noise, rapidly approaching from behind.
"Get that out of here. I told you no cinnamon cake crisps!"
Footsteps retreated, and the smell dissipated. A new hand grabbed my forearm, this one more familiar — more comforting. As my knees gave out, I sagged into the lithe but solid form in front of me. Her arms hitched beneath my armpits, and one of her hands stroked my back while the other pressed my head to her shoulder.
"I've got you, Epsa." Warm breath brushed my face with her soft alto. "I'm here. Just breathe. Can you breathe with me, sweetheart?"
Though my mind remained plunged in darkness, my body responded. As her chest rose against mine, air filled my lungs. She hummed a breathy tune on the exhale, and the vibration relaxed the vice over my chest. Another breath, and another. Feeling returned to my legs, and my vision cleared.
"You're doing great, Epsa. If I keep holding you, can you walk?"
Unable to speak, I nodded into her shoulder.
A strong, lean arm wrapped around my waist, guiding me out of the cafeteria. My legs shot forward in strange, jerky movements, like a colt's first steps. The door to Izra's room flashed before my eyes, and then she gripped my hips to lower me onto the mattress.
Her fingers stroked my back, and her voice weaved a gentle tune like drifting down a lazy river. As my breathing slowed and my mind cleared, I recognized the melody.
"I've heard that tune before," I said. "Pim sometimes hummed it when he was too drunk to tell stories."
Izra's fingers on my back paused. "Makes sense. It's the hymn of the Lesser Gods — a wordless melody worshippers use to safely declare their religious affiliation." Izra slid forward to sit beside me on the bed, her thigh warming mine. "My father used to hum it to me whenever I got upset and stuttered too much to tell anyone why. Later, I sang it for Izkar at Rashika's Refuge whenever he lost control."
"You sang it for me on the Day of Blessings."
"I did."
"But you barely knew me."
She shrugged one shoulder. "When you broke down in the middle of the crowd, I felt this... connection to you. Alone in a crowd and drowning on open land. Right then, I wanted so badly for you to trust me that I forgot not to trust you."
I savored her words, though they tasted bittersweet. "But trusting me was a mistake."
Izra breathed a laugh. "The best mistake I've ever made." She gently squeezed my thigh over the spot I had pinched minutes earlier. "Are you ready to return to the team? It's time for the last training session."
At the reminder, hot shame washed over me. Izra knew my weaknesses already, and I knew hers. But today, Izra was not the only witness. I had broken down in front of the entire Resistance.
I swallowed. "I don't know. After seeing me panic over something so small, how can they follow my lead? How can they follow me into battle?"
Izra smiled and shook her head. "Those who control others with fear must hide their weakness. But Rashika's Resistance doesn't fear you, Epsa — they respect you. I'd even say they are starting to love you."
The words rang close to the ones I wanted to hear most. The Resistance was starting to love me... including the Resistance leader?
Warmth spread through me, banishing the last of the cold panic. I nodded, sucked in a breath, and pushed to my feet.
We paced back toward the cafeteria, but I paused in front of the entryway. What change would I read in their eyes? Frustration? Fear? Pity? I remembered Jek's words from the previous Darkday — you dance exactly the way I expected a wild boar to dance — and my mind tacked on words he had not yet spoken.
I knew a wild boar would break down easily.
But with the battle fast approaching, I had no other choice. With one more deep inhale, I entered the cafeteria.
The tables had been cleared, and a few fighters already sparred, movements slow and tentative. As I entered, the sparring stopped, and the conversation died. Excruciatingly aware of the eyes following me, I strode over to the nearest sword rack. I selected a heavy wooden blade, turned back toward the group, and prepared to face judgment.
Eyes flickered with warmth, and smiles skirted lips. Jek tucked his sword under his arm and brought his meaty palms together in front of him. The rest of the group soon joined, a sound so inconceivable it took me a moment to process.
Clapping. Clapping for me.
Tears pricked my eyes, but my voice carried unexpected strength. "Though you have all come so far in this last week, I cannot promise a win. We will face fighters with more experience and better weapons. If we lose, we lose everything. But if we win, slaves will go free, and Lesser God worshippers will live without fear. The starving will eat, and the cruelty will end. If we win, we save Najila.
"So let's make this last training count."
* * *
Alira and the archers departed early the next morning to travel to the Barzatuk River. They would camp out tonight among the trees on the hillside, waiting to ambush the King's army entering Busk in the morning.
Meanwhile at the base, the sword fighters prepared to face the Royal Guard at the palace. While most of the team sharpened swords, Izra and I met with a few other leaders to refine the details of our plan. Excitement crackled over the room like static, a fragile but contagious spark of hope.
But just before dinner, a messenger arrived.
He staggered down the stairwell into the cafeteria and doubled over with hands on his knees. Sweat-slicked blonde hair plastered his forehead, and his cheeks puffed with panting breaths. Izra jogged toward him, and I snatched my sword and darted to her side.
The man locked wild blue eyes on Izra. "Izra, the Royal Guard" — gasp — "is in the central plaza, and" — gasp — "they're going to..."
"Going to what, Naf?" said Izra, voice quiet but tense. "What's happening?"
The other fighters set down the swords they were sharpening to come stand behind us. Naf sucked in a deep breath and rolled up to his full height.
"The Royal Guard captured thirty Lesser God worshippers from their homes. The King has planned a demonstration for the Day of Acrador — a mass execution in the central plaza."
A hushed silence filled the cafeteria. Izra's jaw clenched and face paled. I wondered if she was also remembering Denavin's report telling Lesser God worshippers to stay home. With worshippers all celebrating alone, none of them would even know about the executions until it was all over. No one to defend the accused — and no one to fight back.
I pivoted to face the rest of the team, who now stared at Naf with wide eyes and fisted hands.
Ru spoke first. "We have to do something. We have to save them!"
"This could be part of the King's plan," I said. "A full-out plaza brawl favors the Royal Guard, giving them the space for the formations and techniques they have practiced most. And they may also have archers surrounding the plaza."
Jek scoffed and folded his arms over his chest. "So what do you suggest? We should just let all of those innocent people die?"
I shook my head. "No, but anyone who wants to fight should understand our odds. I will not lead you into this battle unprepared for the risk we are taking."
Janafir caught one of Jek's hands and interlaced their fingers. "We can't let the King destroy any more families or orphan any more children," he said. "I'm ready to fight."
A murmur of agreement passed over most of the group, but Plu swallowed hard and gnawed on her lip.
"You don't have to come, Plu," said Ru. "You can stay at the base until we return."
Plu shot her a glare. "I'm not here to stay safe. Besides, what if Epsa's right?" Her eyes flicked to mine and then back to Ru. "What if you need me?"
Behind Plu's shoulder, Navi's lips twitched in a smile.
Izra met my gaze, her eyes asking the same question I asked with my own. In unison, we both nodded. Then she propped her fists on her hips and faced the group.
"Then it's decided. Strap on your armor, gather your weapons, and prepare for battle."