A Valuable Intervention

**Angro's POV**

Zania soon fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, and although my entire body protested at something as simple as filling my chest with air, I couldn't stay still. Omawit had arrived in Zuwua, that much was true, but if I knew him as well as I thought, he was likely celebrating his victory prematurely.

I still had a chance to save Shaira and, incidentally, myself.

I left Zania's house and slipped into the town's alleys like the shadow of a cat. The people were starting to return to their homes after a long day's work, clearing the streets. Soon enough, I reached the place where I expected to find Omawit.

I wasn’t wrong. I knew my brother-in-law too well. He was drinking with his goons, indulging in that water the eteri had brought, which was becoming popular among the people because it made them crazier faster than our traditional fermented drinks. I spotted the strange helmet, the one he would use to condemn Shaira and me, sitting beside him as he reveled in his banter. He was bragging about how he had made me flee. Liar through and through.

I calculated my options.

I could sneak up to the table where the helmet lay and snatch it. He would probably notice me, as the helmet was very close to him, but by then, it would be in my hands, and all I had to do was run as fast as I could and disappear into the shadows of the night. I would destroy it, along with all Omawit's claims over Shaira.

I sighed, ready for the biggest heist of my life.

"Angro, when did you return?"

I turned, surprised and pale at the same time.

It was Amari. She had caught me just as I was about to make my move toward the helmet. I had to take her arm and pull her aside before Omawit saw us.

"I just got back, love. I was only…"

"Looking for trouble with my brother? Angro, please. I allowed you to go search for those wreckage remains of the downed bird, but now I find you trying to steal one of my brother's finds? What’s going on? Are you really planning to steal that thing?"

I was speechless.

How could I explain to Amari the importance of that object, that helmet I was planning to steal, for me and for Shaira?

"No, it’s not what you think, love."

"Then explain, because I don’t understand. Come on, let’s go home, and you can tell me."

Amari took my hand, determined to pull me away with her. I broke free, somewhat aggressively.

"No, wait, I can't. I must get that helmet."

"What? Angro, what is wrong with you?"

Amari had raised her voice, and I noticed from the corner of my eye that some of Omawit's thugs had turned to see what was happening. Apparently, anything happening in the street was more interesting than my brother-in-law’s stories.

I pulled Amari further away before any of them could identify me.

"I’ll explain everything later, I swear, but right now I have to get that thing."

"Why? Angro, we talked earlier this morning, and I warned you not to involve yourself with the eteri girl anymore. Who is she to you? Have you told me everything?"

"That helmet has nothing to do with her, love."

"Don’t insult my intelligence, Angro. It’s obvious it does."

"Why do you say that? What makes you think that?"

"Angro, please, look at the size of that helmet. It’s not the first time I’ve seen one of those. In case you forgot, my father is the chief, and he’s been acquiring items from the eteri. I know that’s a pilot’s helmet, from those who control the birds, and it’s clear that it’s a woman’s helmet—hers. That girl for whom you risked your life, Angro, is a combat pilot."

I paled more at Amari’s words than I had when I had exhausted myself chasing her brother.

"She is, isn’t she? That’s the combat helmet of that eteri girl. She was on that bird that was shot down, she was the pilot, the one who commanded it."

What more could I say to Amari than the truth?

"She is," I said. "You’re right about everything. It’s her helmet, and I have to get it back, or you know I’ll be in trouble."

Amari looked at me with those disappointed eyes of hers that had only chastised me once before, earlier that same day, when she found me in the Tahuri.

"We’ll be in trouble, Angro. I’m exposed in this, too, with whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Don’t you see that the eteri is an enemy of our people? That she piloted one of those birds that has brought so much death and suffering to ours?"

"Her bird was a transport, not a combat one," I said, trying to soften Amari’s stance.

"Same difference, Angro. She transported eteri warriors, the same ones who have fired on you more than once—on you and our people, on children, mothers, and elders, Angro. You know they’ve done it, and how many times could it have been that same eteri, the one you now defend, who carried them to the villages they burned?"

I had no words for Amari’s statements because they were the truth, a truth that couldn’t be hidden.

What had driven me to defend one of the enemies of our people?

I couldn’t answer that question because it was just an impulse, completely irrational, even somewhat obsessive. Something inside me made me risk so much for her, for the eteri, for Shaira.

"I... was moved by pity, love. I’m sorry."

My words must have been prompted by the goddess Maiwi because they wouldn’t have occurred to me in a million years.

"I understand, Angro, I get it. You’ve always had a generous heart, and I know your intentions weren’t bad," Amari said, becoming more receptive. "I’ve felt some pity for that girl, too, and I don’t know if you’ve heard, but it seems like everyone in Zuwua feels something special for her. Some have even identified her as Abu-Weida, the heroine from the legends."

I had heard it, yes, when I approached the Tahuri to help Shaira prepare her story.

"What do you think?" I asked.

Amari shrugged.

"I don’t know, Angro. It’s still too soon to tell, but I’ve decided to trust you, love. Pity moves me too. I’ll help you get that helmet back, not just because I know it compromises that eteri girl’s life, but yours and mine as well."

Amari approached me and caressed my cheek. Her hand was tender and full of affection. I deeply regretted the thought of betraying her due to this sudden impulse that had been planted in my heart and wouldn’t let Shaira leave my mind.

"Give me a moment."

"Love, wait, what are you doing?"

I tried to stop Amari, but she had already stepped forward, confidently approaching her brother.

"Hand me that helmet, Omawit," I saw her order.

"What? What are you doing here, sister?"

"Give me the helmet, Omawit. I won’t repeat myself."

"Of course not. This helmet, dear sister, will free you from your lying fiancé."

"Then I’ll have no choice but to tell our father about your late-night meetings outside Zuwua."

From where I stood, hidden in the shadows, I watched Omawit’s face pale in just two heartbeats. His cronies looked at him curiously, wondering, just like I was, what dark secret Amari was referring to that could provoke such a reaction from him.

"I’ll give you the helmet, sister, but only if you promise never to mention that again."

"You have my word, my vow. Now hand it over."

Reluctantly, Omawit grabbed the precious object that would have condemned me to a horrible death and granted him rights over Shaira, and handed it to his sister.

"Tell your lover that I’ll find something else. This isn’t over yet."

Amari didn’t respond, turning and walking away with the valuable object in her hands.

I stayed just long enough to see Omawit grumbling while his friends demanded explanations, which he never gave.

"What secret did you hold over your brother to convince him like that?" I asked Amari when I caught up with her.

"A secret I’ve traded for this, love," Amari handed me the helmet, "and one I’ve sworn not to tell, so it must remain that way."

I nodded, grateful for my fiancée's valuable intervention.

"End this once and for all, love, please. I want our relationship to go back to how it always was and for that girl to return to her people. Do you promise me?"

I nodded again and accompanied Amari to her home.