The Comfort Of The Knife

It was to the dull thud of a glass meeting a table that I’d woken up. The world was upside down as I watched dancers slide and grind atop the ceiling. I lifted my head up—righting the world—to find in front of me a tall glass of something clear and devoid of bubbles. Then my eyes rose in search of its source to find in front of me on the opposite side of the club’s circular cubbies was Piggy. One of his arms thrown over the back of the seat as he watched the dancers below.

“What is this?” I asked.

He turned to me, smiled, and gestured at the glass. “I think we call it water, Orchard. Figured you could use some in case you were dehydrated.”

“Right,” I said. “A good sentiment, but I’m pretty sure I told you to leave me alone after we were done.”

Piggy’s head bobbed like a buoy in moderate agreement. “You did, but…”

“But what?” I asked.

“It didn’t feel right leaving you in all that mess. So I—”

I cut him off, “Ignored my clear request to instead clean me up and drag me to one of these fuck cubbies. You were good Piggy, but I don’t think I’m up for a second round.”

A blush dyed his pale face at the compliment and intimation of lascivious intent.

“No! No,” he said, “I just needed a place to put you and it was easier to bring you here than try to balance you on a barstool.”

I watched him squirm to explain himself. It wasn’t like I thought he actually had nefarious intentions, but there was a pleasure I felt at seeing him so otherwise calm and collected be on the back foot for once. To be honest, Piggy rebuked and backed away from my points in the fashion of a good person that couldn’t imagine themselves doing anything selfish. My eyes lowered to the water—my throat was dry—then rose back to Piggy. Holding his gaze beneath my attention as I slid my hand slowly to grasp the glass. Raised it to my lips and tilted it back. Throwing aside any sense of ‘cuteness’ as I gulped it down in three big drags.

“Unless you secretly drugged this,” I said, “then it seems you really are a good person, Piggy.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “As a Lodge examinee, I question if any of us are actually ‘good’ or what that ultimately means.”

“Alls below, take the compliment,” I said.

He nodded in agreement, but the hand that laid atop the table was drumming a quiet nervous beat. His eyes had turned back to the dancers yet flicked to me at moments.

“Just ask,” I said.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

I rolled my shoulders letting myself lean forward against the table. Flashed a fangy smile.

“I feel great,” I said, and for the first time it wasn’t a lie. The feelings that had wiggled throughout my mind since my parents’ death were silent. That curse of caring, shame, and guilt was gone. Even when I rolled my shoulders I didn’t feel the tension or weight of my purpose. I felt alive. Though, in some part of myself, I knew that what had been removed from me was the final ghost of the Nadia that Melissa loved.

My smile died as I comprehended the depths of what I’d done—finalizing the murder of the girl who lived in this body and wore this face before me. Her demise didn’t make me feel happy as much as I felt the dread of what would come to pass when my people realized she was gone. In fact I felt a scowl form when I realized that there might not be anyone who’d feel joy at the ‘house cleaning’ I’d done of my ego.

“Are you sure?” Piggy asked.

I said, “Yes, I’m sure.”

The caring bastard leveled those patient eyes at me. He actually looked like he cared. In truth, he might have been the only person to care for this Nadia without reservation. He’d met me at one of the steps in my growth, and, despite first meeting me drenched in blood howling in pleasure, had considered me someone worth growing closer to.

“Orchard, you destroyed the entire mirror in the bathroom. That’s not normal.”

“Neither is the way you fucked me.” I said, “So let’s call it even and just say you gave me one hell of an orgasm. I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve destroyed a room with a girl.”

Piggy was silent, but the crimson embarrassment on his face was loud enough for him.

“Was I your first?” I asked.

He coughed. “Um, not completely. Just to that extent.”

I couldn’t help but lick my lips at how delicious this was. His embarrassment, the fact that I was his first, and that despite all my prickliness he sat with me until I’d woken up and drank that glass of water. It tasted different than the success of taking a life. The feelings weren’t salty in their bittersweetness like Melissa’s tears of her own divisive feeling about me. There wasn’t the hungry heat of Amber who would’ve devoured me—and I her—in some ouroboran loop. Nor the subtle hints that lurked behind every word and step of my dance with Secretary. At best this tasted like Sphinx’s feelings for me albeit with more trepidation. Love, perhaps if nurtured, the stuttery blushing steps of love was what this was.

“Interesting,” I said, smirking. “What happens next?”

Piggy answered, “I don’t know. Besides waiting to make sure you’d be okay, I had an invitation to an afterparty a circle is throwing.”

“A circle?” I asked.

“They’re one of the sub-groups within the Lodge. Some of them are more like informal interest clubs like the Lodge choir, and others are like the four major research orgs—big enough to be basically their own thing but formally connected to the Lodge’s larger structure and benefits.”

“Which one is this circle?”

He said, “It’s more informal with the goal of eventually being formal.”

I stretched my arms out like a cat with a low groan. Then slid from the cubby only to turn back when I noticed Piggy hadn’t gotten up yet.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“You’re coming with?” he asked.

I said, “I don’t like turning down invitations—or at least I think I don’t—though I suppose it matters if you were inviting me. You were inviting me, right?”

“What happened to having me ‘fuck off’?”

“I’m often of two minds about things. You’ll have to be adaptable if you’re going to keep up.”

He shook his head in slight disbelief, but the smile he wore washed away any notion of displeasure. Rather, when he looked at me, I could tell that he could only imagine the fun we’d have—thinking back, I wish we could’ve had more than we got. Piggy slipped from the cubby and followed after me, the big lug, and we slipped out from the venue into the slightly chilly streets of a summer night in Brightgate.

We’d fallen into the kind of polite quiet of two people who’d skipped past the normal progression of talking, getting to know each other, and opening up before sex. We were doing this all backwards, but there was still something of a peace between us that prevented it from being more awkward than it was.

“So,” I started, “don’t you think you might need a jacket or do you just like showing off what you have up top?”

Piggy chuckled in that low chest-heavy way of his. “It’s not that cold,” he said. “Compared to back home this is still pretty warm. What about yourself?”

“The outfit, I imagine. Lets the air in so it’s breathable and I’m not too sweaty, but doesn’t let me get cold. Which, probably for the best. I mean, imagine if I had to walk through this night crotch out to the cold summer wind.”

I stopped and spread my legs so I could better examine the seamless repair on my skinsuit’s crotch area. Not a single hint that a half-hour ago it’d been torn apart by someone’s teeth. I glanced up and saw Piggy blushing again then realized I was all but showing off my crotch to him. Which caused me to blush in turn and quickly close my legs and get back to walking.

The silence fell between us again though this time more awkward courtesy of myself. I quickly realized how little I’d actually navigated the infinite mundanities of being a person. That other Nadia had memories and practice and knew the right feelings to have, generally, and I used those. Me, this me, had been in charge when we—I?—needed to kill a lot of people. A task that had very little overlap with polite conversation involving someone who maybe had a crush on you.

“So, you’re a Baron,” I said. “What was your graduation trial like?”

Piggy rubbed the back of his head. “You refused to learn my name, but now you’re asking about my trial? That’s pretty personal, Orchard.”

“With how much you came inside of me, I think I’m allowed some personal questions at this point,” I said, then got slightly distracted by that fact. “Oh, I should probably go see a doctor about that shouldn’t I?”

Piggy froze mid-step then quickly pivoted to face me. “Please, let me scribe the tokens for you to cover things. It’s my fault and I should’ve—”

“Hey,” I said, “it’s fine. We had a good time, and besides I’m sure the medical community wouldn’t mind any data that’d come from getting me checked out to make sure nothing took.”

He raised a brow. “You let them have your information?”

“Why not,” I said, “it beats writing out the tokens for covering my treatment. After the first test things were pretty touch and go for me. Apparently, they needed like three Viscounts just to keep me going.”

“Wow,” he said, “that’d for sure be a lot of tokens. Didn’t realize you were so high maintenance.”

He chuckled as he continued on and I chased after him.

“I’m a delicate instrument,” I said. “They should be honored to get a chance to see what I have going on.”

“I’m sure they were,” he said, “and I am too. I mean, from the noises you made, you really are a ‘delicate instrument.’”

My elbow collided into his side—Piggy was solid as a wall—and he entertained my blow by groaning dramatically before popping back up. I giggled, and then stilled at the novelty of the action. The first and only time I’d ‘giggled’ at something not violence related. Piggy grinned with all the smugness he felt was well-deserved from excavating such feelings from me.

“For that sound, I’ll tell you.” He said, “I had to confront what I wanted from my Court.”

I nodded in the lack of my understanding. Allowed the quiet of the night to take its place between us. The streets were relatively empty with the party and afterparties corralling the Lodge’s members, examinees, and even those who’d already failed but wanted to enjoy the sendoff. It made the night feel like it belonged to Piggy and myself.

“Is that what the trial’s about?” I asked.

Piggy wobbled his hand in the air. “Every Court’s exact trial is different—”

“Of course.”

“But there are themes that connect them. My grandpa put it like this, ‘the journey up the Chain is a bit like a physical one. As a soldier, you’re all about expectation and preconceived ideas about the Court and your time with it. You get what you think you deserve or expect.”

That was a lot like what Sphinx had said. I’d wanted a gatekeeper, expected one perhaps, and so I got her. A smile formed as I thought about her curled up within my spirit—the other of a small number who loved me, this me.

“And Barons,” I prodded.

“Barons,” Piggy said, “are the part of the journey where you’re starting to reflect on your experience so far and consider your direction. What’s been your defining relationship with your Court in your life? Do you want to keep going in that direction? However a Court does it, that’s the general vibe of the trial. Then at Viscount you do it again, but this time it’s a bit of a broader question about the relationship between your Court and others. Still rather subjective, but those are the big beats really.”

“What happens after?” I asked.

Piggy shrugged and tilted his head up toward the yawning dark of the night and moon glittering with its palaces. It made me a bit wistful on behalf of Ferilala Nu-zo, stuck as she was in her room unable to experience the moon beyond memory and conjuration.

“Grandpa didn’t tell me,” he said. “He only told me about Viscount after I hit Baron. Doesn’t want me to get ahead of myself. I don’t think he wants me to get ahead at all if it’d mean getting away from him.”

“Your grandpa can get bent,” I said. “Once we pass the exam we’ll have nearly full access to all the Lodge’s information. No drip-feeding necessary.”

Piggy wrapped an arm around me pulling me in close. I squeaked in surprise.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asked.

“No, I’m way more durable than that,” I said. “Just, caught me off guard. It’s fine though.”

To accentuate my point I lean into him. Piggy slowly settled his arm back around my shoulder. We walked like that the both of us neither looking at the other’s face to see the secret smile we held for how this simple touch made us feel warmer than the night air.

“Are you planning on taking the trial soon?” Piggy asked.

“What happened to that being a personal question?” I asked back.

He waved it away. “I think a wise woman said something about sex and it meaning we could ask each other something personal.”

“Hmm, she does sound pretty wise,” I said, smirking. “I’m not planning on taking the trial soon. Maybe after the exam. I want to be able to pass with Sphinx before she changes.”

“That’s fair,” he said. “The longer her ego can develop the less personality drift when she graduates gaining whatever personality belongs to her upChain form’s gestalt ego.”

“Another piece of grandpa’s advice?” I asked.

“Nah, got that from a grimoire I read when I was younger that got me into this life.”

I joked, “Why ask if I’m going to take the trial, scoping out if you’ll be able to take me?”

“Oh, hardly, a wild girl like you who can fight up a link is too unpredictable,” he said.

“Interesting,” I said. “Most people would say the person who has the link advantage would always win.”

Piggy scoffed, “If both people are idiots maybe. Fights between summoners should never be a fair fight in the first place. I learned that by hand and my grandpa hammered it in even further. Would say that with the right planning you could beat anyone.”

“Do you think you could beat me?” I asked.

Piggy grew quiet. Thought for a moment. Then with absolute seriousness said, “No, I don’t think I could. You’re craftier than me. Than I’m willing to be, beyond what’s necessary of course.”

“You say that like you have a limit,” I said.

Piggy sighed, “Maybe I do. There’s an honesty I crave that isn’t really possible in this life. Better to just face someone head on and see how it all plays out.”

“Even if you lose?” I asked.

He winked, “If I did—especially to someone like you—I think it'd be a good way to go out.”

There wasn’t any hesitation as he said it. No quiver of the lip, his eyes stayed trained on me with a solid determination, and his smile didn’t falter. Piggy was tired of something, but when he spoke about his own end he’d found a beauty in it.

“I really lucked out meeting you,” I said.

Piggy asked, “How so?”

“You’re good and gallant. A very, ‘I’ll go down with the ship,’ kind of person,” I said.

I didn’t tell him that on some level I don’t think I deserved him. A butch like him was a gift better shared with the world than held in my clutches. Though I wasn’t going to let go of him now. Piggy was mine and I didn’t want to share this gallant maybe-lover of mine with anyone.

“This is the place,” Piggy said.

We’d arrived at what looked like a small pub. Two big curtains hung in front of the entrance, but did nothing to stop the fragrant smell of charcoal and grilling meat from wafting out into the street. Piggy, the gallant woman he was, parted the curtain directing me inside first. I paid him in a nod as I entered with him not too far behind me.

The interior of the pub was filled with about six tables that could fit six people each. At the center of the tables was a metal mesh for the express purpose of grilling meat, vegetables, and the other curious items that I saw waiters rush about the pub delivering in large wicker baskets placed at the table’s end. While other waitstaff changed out empty pitchers of beer and water with filled ones.

“Yooo!” the waiters yelled in unison when they heard Piggy and I enter. In fact, you could hear the distant, “yo,” of the chefs in the back of the house preparing items to be brought out. The patrons brought up a refrain of the pub’s greeting when they noticed it was Piggy who’d arrived.

“I saved you a seat,” a woman said.

She had shot up from her seat quick to flag Piggy down. Her outfit was simple, a capelet over a jacket atop a skirt and stockings leading into dark-black boots. While her hair was shaved down at the sides beneath the asymmetrical bob of shockingly white hair. All in all, she was cute, but looked less cute when she noticed Piggy had brought a plus-one to the event.

Piggy led us over to the table she’d stood at, but stopped once he noticed there was only one seat still open—saved and guarded fiercely by her, no doubt. He mulled it over to himself for a few moments before clapping a hand on her shoulder in apology.

“Sorry Apogee,” he said, “but it’d be rude of me if I just left Orchard by herself.”

“I’m sure she can handle it,” Apogee said.

I have no idea how I ended up being Piggy’s first when this woman seemed desperate just to have him near her. Unfortunately, I wasn’t born to mercy, so I gently pouted and shifted where I stood my gaze sliding down to the floor.

“Oh, Piggy, it’s okay I just invited myself. I’m sure you have other people here you’d love to spend time with.”

“Orchard, I see a lot of these guys constantly, it’ll be okay if I’m not with them for one night,” he said. “Apogee, this is on me for not messaging ahead. I’d gotten into some stuff and lost track of things.”

I did my best not to laugh at the way Apogee’s fantasy of the night had fallen apart. Piggy turned around in search of some other spot in the pub. As he walked off I couldn’t resist twisting the knife just a little bit, so I sidled up to Apogee and gave her a nudge.

“Want to know a secret about what happened with him?” I asked.

She gnawed on her lip, briefly at war with even talking to me and her own fixation on Piggy, before it all gave one as she nodded.

“What?” she asked.

I leaned in and whispered, “I’m stuff.”

“What?” she asked, her voice soft and fragile. She stared into my face hoping to find comedy, but if there was any it was saved for myself as I saw her dawning realization of my answer.

“Orchard, there’s two spots over here,” Piggy called from the other side of the pub.

I yelled back, “Great, I’m feeling Voracious right now.”

“Apogee, you should eat more meat. You’re looking so pale,” I said, before leaving her.

When I settled next to Piggy, he handed me a menu. Though when I grabbed it he didn’t immediately let go instead using it as leverage to lean in toward me.

“You didn’t have to tease her,” he said.

I grinned, “It was only possible because you keep giving her hope to hang herself with.”

“Apogee has expectations of things,” he said. “She’s been with me since Grandpa took me in for teaching.”

“Childhood crush kind of thing?” I asked.

“More like a childish fantasy,” he said. “I’m my grandpa’s successor—if he’d ever step down, which is doubtful. So she—”

“Thinks it’ll be you and her, the happy couple, taking up his research or something?”

“Or something,” Piggy said. “It’d be different if she liked me for me.”

I snatched the menu from his hand.

“I’m happy it’s not different then,” I said.

He rested his head in his hand smiling. “So me waiting around with the glass of water wasn’t that bad of an idea after all?”

“It was okay,” I said. “Now, what are we getting?”

I leaned against him as he helped me pick. The place’s owner was bonded to Cultivation apparently, and had enjoyed growing a number of interesting new trees. It was only when he’d met his husband—a food-goods merchant bonded to Collection—that they decided to open up this place. Those special trees became the cornerstone of the restaurant as each one became one of their signature charcoals whose smoke gave unique flavors to the food items the husband had traded for in his travels. It was a sweet story even if I imagined the true ups and downs of the narrative would otherwise struggle to be contained within the simple paragraph that filled out the back of the menu.

Piggy, who’d been here before, I quickly gathered, selected a number of unique charcoals and rather fatty cuts of beef as well as simple skewers of chicken heart and alligator strips. I let him handle things, enjoying the performance of his hands and tongs at work making sure each piece of meat was properly scored from the grill and suffused in smoky deliciousness. After which he gave me the first of anything finished though not without stealing a bite first.

“I take it back,” I said. “You’re hardly the gallant gentlebutch I thought you were.”

“I promise I am,” he said, “but consider it my final taste before I deem it good enough for you.”

We chuckled at our performance to one another. The pub—and Apogee, who I imagined was stewing at our display of flirtatious affection—had fallen away. There was just the two of us shoulder to shoulder getting drenched in the flavorful smoke. Some of it was citrussy, others slightly bitter like chocolate, and the one that was my favorite was so spicy it had made Piggy’s nose run. A reaction that led to Piggy revealing that he wasn’t that good with spice. As the night ticked on and the skewers stacked on our plate, it proved time for the main event behind the afterparty to be revealed.

Apogee rose from her table and crossed to the middle of her side of the room. Clapped her hands once casting all sound down below her voice as if it was underwater. All eyes, mine included, turned toward her in explanation.

“Apologies for the spell, but the night’s winding on and I’d rather get this out of the way so we can return to celebrating all of you who passed the first test,” she explained. “Tomorrow they’ll officially announce the test, but for all of you lucky chosen you’ll get to learn it ahead of time. The test will be on Execution and Capture.”

Even if it wasn’t for Apogee’s spell, the chatter would’ve still died to nothing right then. No one was a stranger to knowing that the Lodge frequently went after dangerous summoners too powerful to be held accountable by any individual community. Capturing them when possible, but otherwise simply removing them from the table entirely.

“You’ll be given official targets for the test with the option to either execute them or capture them. With more points bestowed for extra examinees you take care of,” she said. “It’s that last bit which is where you all come in. Across the district, circles are giving the same deal to all you examinees: go after a few special targets of ours and in return you’ll be given guaranteed admission to our circle and all the benefits that entails.”

She pulled out her sorc-deck, made a few swipes, and immediately every deck in the room belonging to an examinee let out the unique alarm of a notification—including Piggy’s.

“How’d you do that?” someone asked.

Apogee said, “When you accepted the invitation it added your address to our internal records.”

As one body, everyone exhaled fitful sighs post Apogee’s explanation. The thought that her, and by extension the circle she spoke for, could hack everyone’s sorc-deck had seen them briefly abnegate reason and embrace terror. From there everyone turned their eyes to their decks as Apogee continued. Piggy held his between the two of us so I could see the list.

“As you’ll see,” Apogee said, “the list is filled with the names and faces of notable examinees connected to a number of influential collectives, families, and noteworthy industries. None of them are necessarily bad people, but this circle of ours sees the risk inherent in them entering the Lodge and becoming beholden to Lodgemaster Khapoor.”

She continued, “The Lodge was founded on the principles of curbing power becoming too centralized and hoarded. A bulwark against individual summoners being able to run rampant. Now, whether you see the Lodgemaster as a villain or not, it is our belief that we’d be best off preventing that possibility from occurring. So please, familiarize yourself with the list and happy hunting tomorrow. Hopefully, I’ll be seeing all of you at the next gathering of the circle.”

Apogee sat back down and withdrew her spell. Sound returned to clarity as chatter rose between examinees comparing entries on the list. Piggy returned his attention back to cooking, giving me his sorc-deck so I could swipe through. It was a pretty bland list all things considered. Plenty of divas and prodigies—a fact that made me wish Ina had passed so I’d have an excuse to jump her again—as well as the children of famous researchers and traders that made Brightgate their home if not a notable stop in their work.

I wasn’t that convinced of the pitch, to be honest, but I hated Nemesis in every fiber of my spirit. She was something that should’ve never gained access to the power of a Lodgemaster. So anything that disrupted her potential plans was good enough for me…until I scrolled far enough to see Melissa’s name on the list.

My smile fell and all thoughts of putting the screws to Nemesis’ potential desires were put aside. Why was she on the list? The Knitcrofts weren’t that big of a name—at least I didn’t think they were. Sure, they traded raw goods North and South as well as more finished fabrics, but the family was kind. A cornerstone of the town without being domineering. The whole affair was really a co-op of multiple founding families that was perfectly fine giving true access to anyone that decided to join and help build it up. They made sure everyone had clothes to wear whether it involved just providing the materials, or sitting down with someone like my Mom so someone like me could have the perfect garment to enjoy a festival.

I shot up and blurted my question, “Do we have to kill them?”

Everyone looked from me back to Apogee—I was the first who’d asked the question in so blunt of terms. She smiled without allowing light into her eyes as she half-stood from her table.

“No,” she said. “This test usually has some means by which it manages the lethality of summoners fighting one another. If you think you’re that good, you can even capture them. All we need is for the people on that list to fail. However, after last test, I’m sure we’re all aware that sometimes accidents happen and some summoners are more stubborn than others.”

Piggy looked up at me in concern whispering, “Are you okay?”

I didn’t hear him. Instead, I committed to memory every face in the room. Whatever the contents of their hearts, they were all potential killers who I refused to let get near Melissa. Before Apogee could sit back down, I asked another question.

“Is this the entire circle?”

Apogee rose again—I was straining her patience, but I didn’t care.

“No,” she said, “you all are going to be working in more discrete cells for this one. A bit of a consequence of this venue not having space for the entire circle. Why do you ask?”

Eyes flicked back to me. Hungry to discern the meaning behind my question. I could smell the echo of tomorrow’s Bloodlust filter into the room—though maybe it was just the smell of blood searing on the grill and merging with all the smoke that lingered in the air alongside the impatience of my own answer. In the face of that room, I dug into my mind for some excuse or clever way out, but I—this Nadia—was hardly that socially adept. I was a killer and it was to that realization, somehow forgotten amidst the flirting and the food of the night, that I found the mental weight of my mask lingering in the dark part of my mind. In facing all of those would-be killers, I let myself assume the persona of a hungry dog and flashed my bright fangs to them all.

“Oh, you know,” I said, “I don’t want to get in trouble for killing the wrong people just because they’re not in the room with us right now.”

Apogee furrowed her brow while her top lip rose in disgust at my blatant bloodthirst.

“Ugh, no one within the circle will hold it against you, but—”

I cut her off, “Accidents happen. Though I know we’ll all do our best to minimize them.”

Someone at a table yelled out, “Ah, sit down, stop acting higher than your link.”

He was drunk and I was grateful for it as his outburst cut through the tension. Dressed up my questions and statement as a soldier’s bravado. The room turned back to their meal, but Apogee kept her eyes on me, not ready to dismiss me as a potential concern. I kept mine on her long enough to memorize her face and the angle of her horrible bob. If necessary—as I didn’t want to make Piggy’s list of friends shorter than it had to be—I accepted that if I took her head it’d be best if I could bring her haircut to something with more symmetry.

I leaned down to Piggy, whispered in his ear, “I think it’s time I went home.”

It caught him off-guard—he’d just ordered more skewers for us—but my hunger for something material like meat was more than sated. Instead, I had begun the process of making room for more lives I’d need to take, and that was never easy when you were sitting at the same table as those who’d have to die.

When I pushed past the curtain to the street outside, I wasn’t surprised when Piggy had rushed out after me. His legs being longer than mine it didn’t take him long to catch up to me. He caught my wrist, preventing me from continuing on my way.

“Orchard, what’s wrong?” he asked. “Was it someone on the list?”

I turned back to regard him, my eyes peeking up at his concerned expression. He was my gallant Piggy for sure, but I’d forgotten that while he’d met me drenched in blood I’d met him wearing a mask of his own. He was a killer as much as anyone in that room. As much as me.

“And if it was?” I asked.

“Then, we ask them to drop out of this year’s exam.”

I considered my agreement with Melissa—she’d give us a chance at seeing if she could love me, but only to the end of the exam. Her dropping out now was a non-starter. Let alone for the fact that she had plans for what to do with her membership were she to pass. I couldn’t make her drop out and I doubt she would.

“Not possible,” I said.

He offered, “Then I talk with the circle. We’ll have their entry removed.”

“Now that’s just wishful thinking,” I said. “You’ve already put the word out across however many cells. The odds that everyone will check a second memo that contradicts tonight’s information is low. Just takes one person with a bad memory.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was quiet enough that the breeze could’ve silenced it.

“You did nothing wrong,” I said. “Not like you knew the girl of your dreams had a friend on your hit list. Besides, something tells me this whole plan isn’t your style. Grandpa?”

Piggy nodded sullenly. He was so large, but when despondent looked like such a child.

“Then it’s him I blame,” I said. “If you want, after the exam, I’ll help you kill him.”

A wry smile crossed his face. “I’d prefer you say that you’d let me take you on a date after all this. The circle isn’t worth losing the…girl of my dreams. Not even a bit.”

I pressed close to him, and rose onto my tiptoes so our faces were closer than they’d ever been.

“I don’t go on dates with pigs. Fuck, yes, but no dates. So tell me, what’s your name?”

Piggy whispered his name into my mouth as we pressed in for our first and last kiss.

“Sinaya,” he answered.

After the kiss—brief and rather chaste for someone who’d been deep in my guts that very night—we parted ways, and with every step my thoughts turned tomorrow, to protecting Melissa, and to hoping I wouldn’t see Sinaya again until the exam’s end so we could have that date free from the shadows of our respective burdens.