“You could have managed,” Beq said, faintly.
“I trust you with my life,” Maya said. “Obviously. And it’s because you’re clearly worthy of it.”
“Oh.” Beq looked down at her hand. “Thank you.”
There was a long pause.
“When you told me Tanax was coming,” Beq said quietly, “I think I was angry.”
“You were?”
“I don’t … get angry very often. And I knew it was stupid. But I kept thinking that you had another centarch to help you now, so you wouldn’t need me.” Beq swallowed. “And that’s so utterly selfish, I know, because you’re out here trying to help Jaedia, and all I can think about is—”
“Please,” Maya said. “It’s all right. Tanax is … Tanax.” She shook her head. “He may not be quite the plaguing asshole I thought he was, but he’s still not easy to get along with. And I will always need you.”
Beq nodded, blinked, and shifted in her chair. Maya got the sense she was trying to work up to something.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Beq managed eventually.
“You’re doing that,” Maya said. “So far, so good.”
Beq gave a weak smile. “About … that night. Before you fought Tanax.”
“Okay.”
“I kissed you.”
“You did.”
“And I ran away.”
“I wouldn’t say ran—”
“And then we talked about it, afterward, but we haven’t … had much time since then.”
“Yeah.”
Beq took a deep breath. “Can I tell you something that probably makes me insane?”
“Um. If you want?”
“When we were down in the tunnel, and that thing was all over me, and it was trying to get in my nose and mouth and—” She shuddered again. “I thought I was going to die. And all I could think about was … why did I run away?”
“Really?”
“I told you it made me insane, right?” Beq pulled her hand away from Maya and hugged herself. “When we didn’t die after all, I promised myself I would come and talk to you. Only now I’m doing it and I still feel crazy and I’m kind of wishing I’d chickened out and gone to bed—”
“Beq!” Maya said, laughing.
“It’s not fair!” Beq glared at her. “You know what you’re doing. I hadn’t even thought about … that sort of thing, until—”
“Wait,” Maya said. “Who says I know what I’m doing?”
“You’re a centarch,” Beq said. “And you spent years traveling around the Republic.”
“With my master,” Maya said. “Who is the next thing to my mother.”
“But you …” Beq hesitated, looking down again. “You seemed to know what you wanted.”
“I mean.” Maya felt her cheeks growing hot and was glad her darker complexion didn’t show a flush the way Beq’s did. “I’m not going to say I haven’t … imagined things. When I’m by myself. You know. But I don’t have any, um. Practical experience.”
“Oh.” Beq sat quietly for a moment, digesting that. “You … imagined things.”
Maya wanted to bury her head in her hands. “Yes.”
“With me?”
“Y … yes.”
“And then you—”
Maya drew her knees up, hiding her face from Beq’s gaze, and gave a tiny nod.
“Oh,” Beq said again. Her breath seemed to come very fast, and Maya felt her own heart hammering. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t even know what to imagine.”
Maya sucked in a breath, but when she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.
“Do you. Um.” She paused and gathered her strength. “Do you want me to show you?”
*
And then, somewhat later, an awful thought struck Maya like a thunderbolt. She pulled her lips away from Beq’s and sat up, very abruptly.
Beq lay on the bed, green hair coiled beside her, hands on Maya’s flanks. Maya had undone the buttons on her uniform shirt and pulled it open, revealing the mesmerizing sweep of her collarbone and the inner slopes of her breasts, dusted with freckles like her cheeks. Maya was above her, on hands and knees, breathing like she’d just finished a sparring match.
“What’s wrong?” Beq said. “Did I do something—”
“No, no, no,” Maya said. “Sorry. It’s not you. I just.” She swallowed. “I realize there’s something I need to show you.” She reached, hesitantly, for the front of her bathrobe.
“Um. Is it breasts?” Beq glanced down at herself. “Because I know I’m not experienced, but I don’t think that would be such a surprise.”
“No, it’s not breasts,” Maya said. “I mean, it is, I have those, but … listen. You can’t tell anyone about this. Not anyone.”
“I’m very confused,” Beq said, sitting up on her elbows.
“Just promise me.”
“All right.”
Maya took a deep breath and pulled open the bathrobe, letting it fall to her waist. She felt suddenly, horribly vulnerable—not for her skin, but for the Thing, which was dug in above her breastbone like a crystal-encrusted tick.
“Oh,” Beq said. And then, “Oh. The arcana.” Her eyes narrowed behind her lenses. “Is it—stuck there?”
“It’s … embedded. Like part of my body.” Maya took Beq’s hand and brought it up to brush against the Thing. Beq hesitated, then explored the little arcana with her fingers, poking gently at the puffy flesh around it.
“How long have you had it?” Beq said. “Where did it come from?”
“Since I was about five, I think,” Maya said. “Not long after the Order took me in. I used to get … sick, all the time. I don’t remember it well, but they tell me I’d have fevers, coughs, and nothing the doctors could do would help. It was getting worse, and my parents worried I was going to die. After the Order came for me, Baselanthus examined me himself. He said I had a … a kind of continuous illness, I guess. I’ve never really understood it. But it would have killed me, for certain. To keep that from happening, he gave me this.” She tapped one of the crystals. “I call it the Thing. Basel and Jaedia know about it—and Marn, I guess—but no one else. And I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”
“I can see why not,” Beq said. Her fingers circled the Thing, raising goose bumps on Maya’s sensitive skin. “Obviously, if Baselanthus did it, it must be all right, but melding arcana and flesh is usually only possible with dhaka. If Tanax and his Dogmatic friends saw this, they might call you a heretic.”
“Fortunately,” Maya said tartly, “the chance of Tanax seeing it is low.”
“Do you know how it works?” Beq tweaked a dial on her lenses. “Does it have an internal power source? Have you ever tried feeding it external power? Are any of the crystals sensitive to—”
“Beq,” Maya said.
Beq blinked. “What?”