I found a place where I couldn’t hear Indri and sat on the railing so the staff could mop the floor. Customers were starting to filter back up the stairs. They were tense, but most of the people I’d seen before the fight were still here. The clicks and scrapes of forks on plates trickled across the tables on the other side of the deck. The people who’d been sitting on this side stood on the steps or leaned on the railings, waiting for the Porfidu to get the Nemel out of the way. A woman in a bright blue tracksuit looked out over the river. Streaks of candlelight swam in her low ponytail and spotlit the fringe of straight hair around her face.

Oranjyo slowly climbed the stairs, carrying a tray. She set it on a free table and waved to me.

“Is that ours?”

She nodded.

Jilyu looked at her.

“Sorry,” Oranjyo muttered. She raised her voice, with effort. “Yes, Sinyura.”

“Jyojyo,” Jilyu called.

Oranjyo stopped at the top of the stairs.

“Make sure it’s on the house.”

She nodded again and clattered down the steps.

“Thank you, Sinyura,” Chensina said, “but we can’t—”

Jilyu looked her in the eye. Her expression looked like ice on the ocean. “Oranjyo is my oldest great-granddaughter.” She let the silence hang for a long, heavy second. “Your order is on the house. So is whatever treatment your friend needs for his injury.”

Chensina nodded. “Thank you, Sinyura.”

A girl with a loose brown braid over one shoulder pushed her way through the crowd on the stairs. She was carrying a whitewashed basket with a red cross painted on the side. I followed her over to Indri.

He’d untied the bandage so she wouldn’t cut it off, and he was holding it against his arm in a wad. Blood was still spreading through the fabric.

Katarina flipped open the first aid kit and dropped her braid down the back of her dress. “Move your hand.”

The cut was wider than when I’d last seen it, but it was shallower. Indri had let it heal up a little before he’d torn out all the stitches, and it didn’t look like they’d gone through any important blood vessels.

“Okay. Not as bad as it looks,” Katarina said, mostly to herself.

“That’s what I said,” Indri said.

I sat down at the table where our food was and poured myself a cup of tea. I could smell it before I picked up the cup. It was almost as strong as the house special.

“Can I have my strings back?” Indri called.

Chensina sighed. “Hey, Ryali?”

She was kneeling next to Knives. “Yeah?” 

Chensina nodded at Indri.

“What’s up?” Ryali asked him.

“My strings.” He pointed shakily. “I used them to tie her up.”

“Uh…” She looked down and frowned. “I already cut one of them. Do you still want it?”

“Yeah. Can you not cut the other one?”

“I can try? It’s tied pretty tight.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Chensina sat down across from me. She landed too hard and almost winced.

I pointed to the teapot. “Want some?”

Her smile was back in place. “Absolutely.”

I filled a cup and pushed it over to her. She took a sip and slowly started stretching out her injured leg. Her expression was smooth and distant, even when her breath caught from the pain.

Indri plotzed next to me. He grabbed one of the two deep-fried crepes and sawed off one of the corners with the side of his fork. Steam curled.

I passed him a cup of tea. “Did she tell you to go to the Healers?”

He shook his head. He was looking at me like I was trying to trick him. 

I sighed. The meeting was over, and if I couldn’t think of anything he could say to make it worse, he probably couldn’t, either. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

“Of course not. It wasn’t that bad when I got it. Why would I need to go now?”

I shrugged. Katarina would know, if she usually treated kitchen injuries.

Ryali walked Knives over to the other two Nemel. The pointman’s face was still grayish, but her sling was done and she was standing up straight. Once Ryali finished tying Knives’s wrists to the pointman’s good arm, she came over to us. All three of Knives’s bandoliers were slung over her shoulder. Indri’s orange twine was wound around her left hand.

“Here.” She rolled the loop of twine off over her fingers and tossed it to Indri.

He caught it. “Thanks.”

“No.” She gave him her most shit-eating grin. “Thank you, citizen.”

Indri nodded, confused.

Ryali widened her smile at Chensina and me. “Citizens.”

“It’s an honor to assist the Porfidu Army,” I said gravely.

“No, it’s an honor to serve you,” Ryali said.

Chensina laughed. “Thank you, Sinyura.”

Ryali joined the rest of the Porfidu squad. Zamerald whistled a pair of notes, and they fell into formation. He raised his eyebrows at Chensina. “Ready,” he signed in Offhand. “Coming?”

She could have gone without her mask. There were a lot of reasons why a civilian would be out in public with a Nemel squad. She shook her head anyway and tapped one nail on the edge of her plate.

Zamerald smiled. “Roger.”

One corner of Chensina’s mouth twitched. “Later,” she signed, then made a complicated gesture that I’m almost sure represents the Stone General.

“Roger,” Zamerald signed again. 

He whistled another pair of notes and led the Porfidu squad down the stairs. The crowd parted for them. 

When they were gone, Chensina’s face slackened. For a second, she stared at nothing over my shoulder. Indri glanced at her long enough for concern to flick through his eyes, then looked back down and sawed at his crepe.

Chensina snapped back into focus. She smiled warmly. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” we repeated.