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He turns around, and I think for a moment that he won’t answer my question. He half-opens the door, the bell chiming again, and Tonnolun gives me a quizzical, disbelieving look.
“If you ever get tired of life in the bakery, or you’re just looking for a little more excitement, my friend and I are going out to the bar a few blocks over. I think you’d like him.”
I shake my head in disbelief as he exits. “Odd individual,” I say aloud.
That’s when Tonnolun comes up to me, putting his very large arm around my shoulder.
“You know what you did was very bad, right? I’m gonna have to work youextra hardfor that.”
He’s whispering to me, clearly breaking every boundary yet again.
I shake my head. “Actually, my shift’s over.”
Before he can react, I take the element of surprise, running out the door. The bell swings alive behind me, chiming into the city commotion.
I spot Vylco a few feet away.
“Hey!” I dash toward him. “When did you want to meet up?”
A kind smile forms on his face.
6
AZRON
The passage of traffic gives me a headache as I rub my eyes. I still haven’t fully processed what I’ve agreed to, but I nearly trip over a fruit cart on my way through the city.
No, not agreed to. I wasn’t given a choice in the matter.
I know Gel’ged didn’t have a choice either, but a part of me can’t help resenting him for this. We were once at war with the xaphan, but now I’m passing them on the street, still expected to engage with and honor them. It’s stupid and pointless. I don’t even want to exchange pleasantries with them, let alone catch their stupid killer.
Still, I can’t help going back over the conversation. Was there even a chance to change his mind? Could I have talked him out of it, if I’d just found the right buttons to push?
Or could I have simply ducked him? If he couldn’t find me… if I was just a little less predictable… maybe somebody else would be filling this mission instead of me.
When you get home and sleep this off, you’ll find out it was all a dream. You’ll see.
My thoughts become less coherent the more tired I get. I shift my eyes from left to right to avoid falling asleep in the standing position. But the movement of passersby is strangely hypnotic, and I find myself lost in their chatter.
“I can’t believe he said that! You should have impaled him then and there.”
“No, Xerin. You know that you shouldn’t spoil yourself with sweets. Why don’t we get you a nice slingshot instead?”
“Watch where you’re goin’!”
I collide with a much larger gilak, who shifts away angrily as he pushes a large cart of ore through the streets. Though adversarial, I’m at least grateful that he’s not willing to start a fight over it, as he retrieves some glimmering, crimson ore that spills out onto the streets.
I’m not at the top of my game, my mind struggling to maintain consciousness. If we got in a fight, I might lose. Or worse, I might unleash my buried habits and destroy him like an enemy of war.
Grumbling, I sit down on the stairs in front of my apartment complex, watching the crowds go by.
Any one of them could be a potential suspect. But who?
And why does any of this matter to me?
They’re all blissfully unaware of the criminal that could be among them. A psychotic killer, stuck on reforming their ways, walks and hides in the shadows, as normal looking and undetectable as anybody.
That’s if they aren’t still killing discriminately. There’s a lot I still don’t know about this case.
