This woman, a sawmill worker, was in on the strike. The guards had taken to the streets with their dogs, so she spent most of the day inside some factory, not even venturing out into the yard. I wondered how they fed themselves—she talked about being crowded and dreaming of a nice long shower, but not of worrying about her next meal. Maybe I should’ve asked. Thing is, she was already jumpy and I didn’t want her to think I was accusing her of making shit up or anything.

Then this fight broke out in the streets one night, nearly a battle by the sound of it, and the next morning a dead guard showed up nailed to a post right in front of the governor’s mansion. Their head had been ripped off and a dog head stuck on its place. Of the other dogs, they found even less. Everyone said the Rainbow Snakes had done it, though as usual nobody had seen shit.

My informer didn’t wait to hear more. The governor was in the capital, but that made no difference. According to her, it was only a matter of time before he arrived and massacred everyone, so she ran away in the night. Some relatives of hers lived west of Omedura. I gave her some nureals for the train and she teared up. It always upsets me when people cry in public.

Anyway, she wasn’t wrong. It’s just that I couldn’t afford to worry over the incoming massacre, as I didn’t know of anybody else willing to make a stand against the Megarchon’s lackeys. Rainbow Snakes or whatever they called themselves, I wanted to talk to them.

I might even have something to negotiate with.

The version of the story I told my grandmas was slightly edited for length. Censored, even. Sooner or later they’d hear the full story, or an even worse version of it, and then they’d probably start worrying even more, but I really couldn’t bring myself to share more details. With any luck, when that happened I’d be already safe.

Safe in the capital. Ha.

“Well,” Grandma Alba said, “if that's what you want, there's nothing left to say. We hoped you’d stay safe... but being safe ain't being happy. Sometimes it even ain't being alive. So do what makes sense to you.”

I swallowed. When I’d imagined how this conversation could go, I always reached a part where my grandmas asked me why I was even doing this, and always stalled there. I’d never found a good way to explain why I couldn’t just stay away from harm.

But my grandmas seemed to understand it better than myself.

“It’s not as if that woman summoned you for a good reason,” Grandma Cielo said.

“So you might as well harm her first,” Grandma Alba said.

“I'm putting y’all at risk, too,” I said.

“It’s possible,” Grandma Cielo said. “Whoever takes that woman’s place might want to avenge her, if only to solidify their position."

“But they must reach I Doronte first,” I said. “So far, none of her potential heirs can wield the Imperium. So they’d have to rely on their guards instead. Most importantly, there’d be such chaos, you’ll likely have whole weeks, if not months, to escape safely. But having to leave the farm—”

“Hey,” Grandma Alba said.

I looked at both of them.

“You worry about what you're gonna do,” she said. “And we'll worry about what we're gonna do if the moment comes.”

It didn't feel like it was enough, but it had to be enough. My grandmas would trust me to live and die as I saw fit. I had to trust them, too.

“Are you hoping the Snakes kill Blondie?” Grandma Cielo asked. “That would make things easier.”

“No, I think it'd attract the kind of attention I don't want.”

Grandma Alba said, “Don't forget we're here for you.”

I nodded so that she wouldn't press the point, but the last thing I wanted was my family going anywhere near Vorsa. The only way I could breathe easily was if they stayed in the hills, where even the Megarchon couldn't reach them so fast.

“And have fun,” Grandma Cielo said.

“Fun?”

“Well, you don't want to stay cooped up in your room scared shitless all the while, do you? If you don't want to be a pawn, the best you can do is have fun.”

Those words went back and forth in my mind as I left for the night. I could see the sense of what Grandma Cielo said, but couldn't really apply it to myself. Fun felt like something from another world.

Maybe I'd soon regret not spending more time with my family, but at the time, I couldn't bring myself to talk to them any longer. This way, too, I’d leave before my grandmas had time to ask me exactly what had happened earlier in those hills. I didn’t want to tell them I’d endangered myself to rescue that ghost, and I wasn't sure if I could think of a convincing lie.

Then again, my grandmas had admitted it was my own life to endanger. They’d worry about me all the same, of course. You couldn’t change that. But hearing those words lifted a weight off my soul. Look, when nobody will give you the chances of a minnow in a mäelstrom, even with the King of the Dying Sun sworn to protect you, it’s a relief to know you can die free of guilt.

Maybe I should’ve lied after all.

This night felt a bit like those nights when I dreaded going to sleep, after I’d come back from the capital the second time. So I picked a book. It made me nostalgic for the days when I used to hide under the covers, reading adventure books in a light I’d spelled up. I was a kid, so my spells were still iffy, and my light always went out in the most exciting moments.

In a silver noon there was no need of spell lights, and My First Biology Book had never been the kind of reading material that needed to be hidden. Its cover had a drawing of a person’s circulatory system profiled in silhouette and a flower scandalously showing off all its pistils. I had passed it on to my cousins when they were younger, but after Lucero turned out to be good at healing and moved on to study more complex books, I retrieved it for myself. It didn’t matter I’d outgrown it. It had been made for me. And other children, but especially me. You could tell it was true ‘cause the dedication said so: To Azul, my little light and the best of my creations, this lesser creation.

To make a complicated situation easier to understand, the book said in between colorful illustrations, we’ve narrowed things down to three sexes. If you have the equipment necessary to become pregnant without using magic, you’re a matricial person. If it’s to make others pregnant without using magic, you’re a seminal person. If you're somewhere in between, you're an imbricate person. But you can be any gender you want to. For example, I’m a matricial man.

As I skimmed down the paragraphs, Lucero walked in, took off his pants, and plopped himself up next to me with no further explanation, stretching himself out like a fat fish. He almost never did that anymore, not a big boy like him.

Without warning, I turned around, trying to bite Lucero’s tummy. “Chomp!”

Like always, he curled himself up like a big brown pillbug, safely protected from my teeth.

I returned to my book. “One day I’ll bite you. You’ll see.”

“Yeah, right.” Lucero stretched himself out on his back again. A moment later he was asleep.

Look, I can’t be blamed. It’s weird how he’ll stay all still like that. He don’t even snore. Not that I’m complaining about that.