Mister Kindly személy
… there are more dangerous things around here to put in your mouth …”
Mister Kindly peered at her through the gray pall.
“… dweymeri boys, for example …”
“O, bravo. Been working on that one for a while, have we?”
“… most of yestereve …”
“Time well spent, then.”
“… there are more dangerous ways i could —”
“All right, all right. Enough. The last thing I need to hear before my execution is you criticizing my choice in penises.”
„Right, fuck this,” she spat.
Reaching down to her boot, Mia twisted the heel, retrieving her trusty lockpicks. In a moment, she was free of her manacles, reaching between the rusted bars. She set to sweet-talking the lock, tongue poking out in concentration. An arrow sheared through the canopy just shy of her head, another thudded into the wood near her hand.
„ . . . you may wish to hurry . . .”
The whisper was soft as baby’s breath, intended for her ears only.
“You’re not helping,” she whispered back.
“ . . . i am offering moral support . . .”
“You’re being an annoying little shit.”
“ . . . that too . . .”
Mia set her sights on the wastes beyond Last Hope, and with a doffed hat toward the watchtower, kicked Chivalry’s flanks. Sadly, instead of a dashing gallop off toward the horizon, the girl found herself bucked into the air, her brief flight ending in a crumpled heap on the road. She rolled in the dirt, rubbing her rump, glaring at the now whinnying stallion.
“Bastard …,” she hissed.
She looked to Mister Kindly, sitting on the road beside her.
“Not. A. Fucking. Word.”
“… meow …,” he said.
„ . . . you always had a talent for making friends . . .”
“ . . . WELL i AM QUITE FOND OF YOU, IF THAT MAKES A DIFFERENCE . . .”
“ . . . thank the mother i am not actually capable of vomiting . . .”
“ . . . SHUT UP . . .”
“ . . . such a witty riposte . . .”
“ . . . WIT IS WASTED ON THE WITLESS . . .”
“If you two are quite finished?” Mia asked.
“ . . . mongrel . . . ,” came a soft whisper.
“ . . . CUR . . . ,” came a softer reply.
“Between the three suns’ plodding travels, Itreyan citizens know actual nighttime—which they call truedark—for only a brief spell every two and a half years. For all other eves—all the eves Itreyan citizens long for a moment of darkness in which to drink with their comrades, make love to their sweethearts…”
The girl paused.
“What does oshk mean? Mercurio never taught me that word.”
“… unsurprising …”
“It’s something to do with sex, then.”
The cat shifted across to her other shoulder without disturbing a single lock of hair.
“… it means ‘to make love where there is no love’ …”
“Right.” The girl nodded. “…make love to their sweethearts, fuck their whores, or any other combination thereof—they must endure the constant light of so-called nevernight, lit by one or more of Aa’s eyes in the heavens.
“… he fears …,” whispered Mister Kindly from her shadow.
“Shut up, you blackhearted little shit,” Tric snapped.
“Tric, what are you afraid of?”
Mister Kindly sniffed with his not-nose, blinked with his not-eyes.
“… the dark …”
“Shut up!” Tric roared.
Mia blinked, incredulity slapped all over her face. “You can’t be serious…”
“… apologies, i was uninformed i’d been relegated to the role of comic relief …”