Reparations by T. A. Hernandez Page A

emperor was
killed, but what of his inner circle?” Kito asks. He glances at me
for an instant, and I see where this line of questioning is going.
I glare back at him. After everything I’ve suffered because of my
father’s actions, how can Kito think I care to know whether he is
alive and imprisoned or dead and burned? Still, I can’t stop myself
from listening to Taka’s
response.
    “ Most of them were taken into
custody. They’re being held hostage in the Imperial
City.”
    “ Why not just kill them and be done
with it?” I ask. I don’t even try to hold back the bitterness in my
voice; such sentiments must be echoed in every heart under this
canopy.
    “ The Tainted Army won the war, but
they’ll have to work to hold their power. They might need the
hostages to negotiate with some of the other nobles, or with
foreign powers who refuse to recognize their leadership. They say
if the hostages cooperate, their punishments will be less severe
once this is all over. Lots of people aren’t too happy about that,
either.”
    I can see the wisdom in keeping
hostages, but I don’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed
that my father may still be alive. I’ve tried not to think about
him at all since my imprisonment.
    “ Was Magistrate Rokuro taken
hostage?” Kito asks.
    An inquisitive frown tugs at the
edges of Taka’s mouth, and his eyes become suspicious. “I believe
so. Why do you ask?”
    Kito shrugs. “Curiosity. I was a servant in
the Rokuro household.”
    Taka seems to accept this
explanation “Yes, I believe so. Most of the magistrates survived
the initial attack on the city.”
    Kito nods, and they both go back
to their food. I stare at my bowl. I’ve only finished half of it,
but suddenly feel too nauseous to eat another bite. I have eaten
more in this single meal than I was ever given in an entire day
during my imprisonment.
    I stare at the uneaten food and
wonder how long it will take before this all stops feeling too good
to be true.
    * * *
    Later that night, Kito and I lie
clinging to each other under a blanket. The soldiers distributed
one to each of the newly released prisoners, but Kito gave his to a
young mother and her screaming child. The thin fabric doesn’t
completely shelter us from the wind, but it’s been a long time
since I’ve felt this warm. The small comfort of it is enough to
bring tears to my eyes, but I blink them away.
    Kito squeezes my hand. “Amaya.” He
says my name with a smile—the way he used to, a lifetime and
another world ago. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
    His eyes are still dim and hollow,
but his voice sounds brighter. Freedom is already doing him some
good. And me as well.
    “ It feels like a dream,” I say. “I
keep thinking I’ll wake up and we’ll be back in that hole, with all
those bodies.” A shiver runs down my spine.
    He draws my hand towards him and brushes his
lips against my ragged knuckles. “This is real. We
survived.”
    “ We survived.”
    We lie like this for a while,
silent and reflective. I’m exhausted, but I don’t dare shut my
eyes. The nightmares are still too close. Then Kito says, “Your
father might be alive.”
    There are a dozen questions
carried in that simple statement, and none I can answer with any
surety. Is he really alive, or was he one of those killed when the
Tainted Army took the Imperial City? Am I glad to hear this? Am I
sorry he didn’t meet the cruel death I have so often told myself he
deserved? How am I supposed to feel?
    Looking at Kito’s face—the scars
from countless beatings and the hollow cheeks from
malnourishment—the old anger rises to my chest. Memories follow the
flood of emotion, and I recall the past spring when all of this
began.
    Kito was a servant to my father’s
household—a household that, due to the recent death of my mother
and infant brother in childbirth, now only consisted of my father
and myself. Kito was an enchanter, one of those unfortunate
individuals born with