"It is dangerous to let them live. Your history with these people is... not good."
"It's okay," I muttered.
"You should shoot at least one of them, non?"
"No."
"Very well. Then I will shoot them for you."
"No," I insisted. I was grateful that he'd stopped them from killing me, but far more thankful that he'd arrived in time to prevent me from killing them. Surging waves of nausea and relief crashed into my blood red mind, draining the rage from me. I shivered as the last smile of shame trembled in my eyes. "I don't want to shoot them... and I don't want you to shoot them, either. I didn't want to fight them in the first place. I wouldn't have, if they hadn't attacked me first. They're only doing what I'd do, if I loved her. They're only trying to protect her. They're not against me. It's not about me. It's about her. Leave them alone."
"And what about her?"
"You were right," I said quietly. "She's finished. She's already dead. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I guess... I had to see it for myself..."
I reached out to cover the gun in Didier's hand. Rajan flinched and flexed. His twin, crying out in pain, began to drag himself away from us along the edge of the wall. Then I slowly pushed Didier's hand downward until the gun was at his side. Rajan met my eyes. I saw the surprise and fear in his black eyes soften into relief. He held the stare a moment longer and then limped to his brother's side.
With Didier close behind me, I made my way along the secret corridor and back to the blackened stairs.
"I owe you one, Didier," I admitted, grinning into the dark.
"Certainly you do," he replied, and then the stairs crumbled beneath us and we fell, tumbling in and through the burned and broken wood until we hit the hard floor below.
Spluttering and coughing in the cloud of charcoal dust and floating fibres, I wriggled against my fallen friend to sit upright. My neck was stiff and sore, and I'd landed on my wrist and shoulder, spraining them both, but I seemed to be intact and otherwise unbroken. Didier had landed on me, and I heard him moaning grumpily.
"Are you okay, man? Jesus, what a fall! Are you all right?"
"That's it," Didier snarled. "I'm going back up there to _shoot that woman!"
We laughed as we hobbled out of the ruined Palace together, and the laughter stayed with us in the hours that followed while we bathed our wounds and dressed them. Didier gave me a clean shirt and trousers to wear. His wardrobe was surprisingly stylish and colourful for a man who dressed in such a drab uniform at Leopold's. He explained that most of those bright new clothes had been left with him by lovers who'd never returned for them, and I thought of Karla, giving me clothes that had once belonged to her lovers. And the laughter bubbled up anew as we ate a meal together at Leopold's while Didier talked of his most recent romantic disasters. We were laughing still when Vikram Patel ran up the steps with his arms wide in an excited greeting.
"Lin!"
"Vikram!"
I stood just in time to receive his flying hug. Holding my shoulders with his arms straight, he looked me over, frowning at the cuts on my head and face.
"Fuck, man, what happened to you?" he asked. His clothes were still black, and still inspired by the cowboy dream, but they were much more subdued and subtle. That was Lettie's influence, I guessed. Although the new, inexcessive look suited him, I was relieved and comforted to see that his beloved hat still hung on his back from the cord at his throat.
"You should see the other guys," I answered, flicking a glance at Didier.
"So why didn't you tell me you're back, man?"
"I only got back today, and I've been kind of busy. How's Lettie?"
"She's great, yaar," he responded cheerily, taking a seat. "She's going into this business thing, this multi-fuckin-media thing, with Karla and her new boyfriend. It's going to be damn good."
I turned my head to look at Didier, who shrugged non-committally and then glared at Vikram with his teeth bared in fury.
"Shit, man!" Vikram apologised, clearly stricken. "I thought you knew. I thought Didier would've told you, yaar."
"Karla is back in Bombay," Didier explained, silencing Vikram with another stern frown. "She has a new man-a boyfriend, she calls him. His name is Ranjit, but he likes everyone to call him Jeet."
"He's not a bad guy," Vikram added, smiling hopefully. "I think you'll like him, Lin."
"Oh, really, Vikram!" Didier hissed, wincing for me.
"It's okay," I said, smiling at each of them in turn.
I caught the eye of our waiter and nodded to him, gesturing for a new round of drinks. We were silent until they arrived and the drinks were poured, and then, with the glasses in the air, I proposed a toast.
"To Karla!" I proposed. "May she have ten daughters, and may they all marry well!"
