I shook my head. "Right now, some poorly thought-out teenage fantasy is coming undone around you. One based on mutual hatred of the enemy instead of attraction for each other. Because - be honest, Les. If you were really that into Zasen, or me, or even Kanik here, then you wouldn't always be chasing other men, right? We'd be spending a lot more time together, just to be together. I mean, don't get me wrong, the sex is great..." I tilted my head, daring her to deny it. "...But you're the one who said it was just sex. Nothing permanent, you told us. No relationship."

"Well, but we're all still young," she tried.

I gave her a tired look. "That's the line you're going with? Lessa, you're jealous. You thought you'd always have us as a fallback plan, and it never dawned on you that anyone else would put up with Zasen's shit, right? I'm not going to settle down, so you didn't have to either. You and Kanik?"

"Not happening," Kanik mumbled.

She thrust a hand at him. "Mutual. No offense."

"None taken," he assured her. "You'd break me."

She huffed out a single laugh. "But what does that have to do with this Mole, Rymar?"

I just smiled. "Because to you, the girl is competition. If her hair was any other color, would your reaction be any different?"

She opened her mouth to reply, closed it, then sighed. "No, probably not."

So I reached across the counter to clasp her arm. "And so you know, there's nothing there. I'm not saying there can't be, or won't be, or anything else. But right now, Ayla is merely a refugee who is living with us to learn how to survive in Lorsa. She's scared, she's confused, and she's trying to make sure she tells Zasen everything she can about what happens inside the Mole base."

"Oh."

I nodded, realizing I was finally getting through to her. "But you and I both know that's not why you're really pissed. I mean, you probably fooled Kanik, but I know you better than that, Lessa. What you were hoping for was a dream. Not a reality, and not something you even want, but you wanted to keep that option there in case you ever needed it. A fallback plan, of sorts, but that's not what friends are supposed to be."

This time, when she lifted her glass, her drink was a much bigger one. "Well, you and Zasen are two of the best-looking men our age."

"And?" I pressed.

"Fine!" Lessa threw both of her hands in the air, clearly admitting defeat. "But do you really blame me? You can't tell me there's not a little part of you, Rymar, that doesn't hope Tasult will one day walk into town like nothing ever happened. To see him alive, perfectly fine, and hear he'd just gotten amnesia out in the woods and lived with the Reapers for a bit."

"What's your point?" I asked, because she wasn't wrong.

"That it's nice to always have a little 'what if' sitting in the back of your head," she said. "And that maybe, just maybe, it hurts a little to see it all crumbling right before my eyes. And for a Mole? Really? A fucking Mole? They ruin everything around them!"

I wasn't about to let Lessa get on this tangent again, not after I'd already made it clear Ayla wasn't with Zasen like that. The woman could latch onto a conspiracy theory and hang onto it for years, if she wanted to. So, that meant it was time to get her mind on a different track.

"What do you think it would be like to be a woman living with those Mole men?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

So I decided to rephrase that. "Knowing what you know about the Moles - who are always male - what do you think it would be like to be trapped underground with them, unable to leave, and forced to do everything they wanted?"

Lessa's mouth fell open, her eyes went wide, and she looked over at Kanik. "Bad?"

He nodded slowly. "She thinks touching at all is 'improper.'"

"Anything a woman desires seems to be 'improper,'" I clarified. "Lessa, I gave that girl a handful of purple coneflowers after she was assaulted on the street, and I thought she was going to crawl out of her skin. She's terrified of men."

"But she's still a Mole," Lessa muttered as if that line was the best defense she had.

I reached over and nudged her chin up, forcing her to look at me. "In the compound, they eat fungus, tubers, and meat, or some shit. Not potatoes, mushrooms, and venison. The women don't even know there are different types of fungus, or tubers, or meat. They believe the surface of the world is unlivable and covered in the Devil's demons."

"So, brainwashed," Lessa grumbled.

"And seriously screwed over," Kanik added.

That had Lessa's immediate attention. "What do you mean?"

I decided to answer that as well. "Married within a week of turning twenty. They don't get to pick their husband, but rather have one assigned to them. All that matters is they aren't related. Ayla was 'lucky' enough to get a man in his fifties. One who slapped her. And that was their first meeting."

"Never mind her thoughts on punishment," Kanik said. "When that man shoved her down in the street? The girl thought she deserved it. She assumed it was normal. When she talks about her life in the compound, I feel like every other sentence is about how she couldn't do something without being punished. That's what she calls a beating, Lessa. 'Punished.' And the things she wasn't allowed to do included reading, walking in the wrong hall, and so many other things that just seem mind-blowing."

"Shit…" Lessa breathed. "Let me guess, they probably raped her too?"

I shook my head. "Girls aren't allowed to be around boys or men until they turn twenty. Lucky for Ayla, since they didn't give her the chance to refuse to marry that man. To stop her marriage, she decided to stick a fork in him. That was considered attempted murder, which was how she got thrown out before the man could have his way with her."

Lessa simply pressed her lips together and nodded her head slowly a few times. I glanced over at Kanik, but he shook his subtly, making it clear I should let my friend work this out on her own. When Lessa grabbed for her glass, downing the last of her beer in a single gulp, I realized she really was thinking about this - and hard.

"So this timid, sheltered girl was abused her entire life, and her only way to fight back was to use a fucking fork to defend herself?" Lessa looked up at me. "Okay, that's fucked up."

"And that's just the smallest part," I assured her. "Zasen isn't dating the girl. He's trying to help her figure out that being a woman doesn't mean she's weak. So are we."

Lessa shoved her empty glass towards me, making it clear she wanted another. Instead of filling it, I gave her mine, which she immediately lifted and began guzzling. I could feel my eyebrows rising with each swallow she took. Lessa wasn't normally the kind of girl to chug like this.

Then she set the glass back down on the bar just a little too hard. "Okay, if what you're saying is true, then I'll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts her." Lifting a hand, she carefully wiped the corners of her mouth. "And I'll give her a chance. I can't promise I'll like her, but I'll convince myself she isn't a Mole, and give the girl a chance. But if she fucks up…"

I reached over and clasped Lessa's hand. "And that," I told her, "is why you're one of my closest friends. Bad time to mention we're going to start teaching her how to use a bow and other weapons?"

"Krael too," Kanik muttered under his breath.

Lessa just pulled her hand back and shoved to her feet. "Dammit, Rymar. And I was actually going to end this talk on a friendly note. The two of you are going to make me go grey before I'm even thirty. Fucking teaching a Mole how to fight? Are you three insane?"

Throwing her hands up one more time, she turned for the stairs and made her way out without even bothering to say goodbye. Then again, that was her style. Lessa was definitely a bitch, but she was the kind of bitch I wanted on my side. The kind of bitch who was the most fun to get in trouble with. And yes, she was also the kind of bitch that would honestly give Ayla a chance - after bitching about it for a few days.

Fifty-ThreeAyla

After the seamstress left, Zasen told me I could finish whatever he'd interrupted. I'd been cleaning. It seemed that aboveground, there was a lot more dust to settle than we'd had to deal with in the compound. Not only that, but as I wiped it away, I was learning where things were kept and memorizing my way around the house I lived in.

I hadn't wanted to pry, but when Zasen headed out to the backyard, I may have snooped a bit more. Nothing impolite. I was simply curious. Besides, the living room and kitchen were public areas. That meant the things in them shouldn't be too personal.

But before I'd finished, Zasen stuck his head through the back door and called for me. "Ayla, put on a dress that isn't too loose and let's see what you think of this?"

I looked down at what I was wearing and decided it would do. I still didn't have shoes, but the woman today had measured my feet for them. So, I headed that way, stepping outside to find nothing but soft grass under my feet.

And Zasen had set up a training area in the small, flat area between his house and the steep hill behind it. This was like the targets he'd put up for Tamin, but more. Some were made of wood. Others looked like stacked grass or something. Of course, he'd hung the cloth things called "bullseyes" as well.

Then there was the collection of weapons. I was surprised to see he not only had Tamin's small crossbow, but also a selection of other weapons. Among those were throwing knives and the handheld kind. He'd even laid out three of the curved blades Dragons liked so much. The ones they called krael.

"Okay," he said, gesturing to the display. "Today, we're going to see which weapons you like best. Think of this as letting your body pick your fighting style."