Heroes Adrift (25 page)

We walked into Golden Fields. Very different from anywhere else on the island, it looked like farmland of the sort I was used to, wide dry fields of golden something or other. Not wheat. Not any kind of grain I'd ever seen before. The dense foliage that had darkened most of our days had thinned out considerably, allowing for wider roads and larger buildings.

Aryne was cowering in the covered wagon. She called it resting, having allegedly twisted her ankle that morning. I'd suggested the wagon as a way to make her feel better, until she was really convinced that there were no slaves and, more importantly, that she wasn't one. I also liked keeping her out of sight of Border, should he choose to make another appearance. She objected to the idea when I mentioned it, but within the hour announced she had wrenched her ankle and shouldn't be walking on it.

It was just slightly cooler that day. No, not cool. More like an absence of that extra ounce of drenching, suffocating moisture in the air that made the sweat run on the skin. I hoped it was the beginning of a change of season, and not just an aberrant dip in temperature meant to torment us.

Taro seemed a little more at ease, too. He smiled more quickly. He joked with Beril. He frequently touched my hand or my shoulder, or tucked my hair behind my ear. I realized he hadn't been touching people like he used to. Or flirting like he used to.

We walked through the village. We stopped somewhere just beyond the general settlement limits and stood. And waited. I thought nothing of it until I heard the whispers and saw the frowns.

“What now?” I asked Beril.

“Wait for it,” he said.

And not long later, I heard the words. The Glassing Fair had set up where Atara's troupe usually camped.

And Beril swore.

“What?” I asked him.

“There's another troupe here.”

Aye, I got that part. “And?”

His expression told me he thought I was being stupid. “Not enough coin for us both.”

“Oh,” I said. “So now what?”

“Ma's call.”

So we might stay to perform, or we might move on. Or, rather, the troupe would move on. Taro, Aryne and I would remain in Golden Fields.

Panic squeezed my chest. Oh my gods. Taro and I would be left on our own. For the first time since our second day on the island. With all these crazy people who expected us to pay for things.

I hadn't felt anything like this when I'd left the Academy, knowing I'd be taking on the big wide world with a complete stranger. Why was I overreacting now?

Well, I wouldn't be able to perform without the others. There would be no more money coming in. I suffered the inappropriate urge to pull out my purse and start counting coins.

All right. Calm down.

“Lee?”

I looked up at Taro.

“You all right?”

“Of course.”

“You got tense all of a sudden.”

“I'm always tense.”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

I noticed a stranger lingering around the wagon, fingering its colorful cloth. “Excuse me for a moment,” I said to Taro, and I strode up the line to the wagon. “Kiyo,” I said to the stranger.

Who noticeably started, and then seemed to shy away, eyes down. “I meant no harm,” she said.

“No, no. I have a question.”

She stilled, but her gaze stayed down.

I had to give it to her; I did look ridiculous. Only she was the only native of the island who seemed to think so, so I wasn't used to it. “Do you have slaves here?” I asked her.

She looked at me, then. And she looked horrified. “What?”

“Slaves. I was told there were slaves in Golden Fields.”

Horror turned to outrage. “You were lied to,” she snarled, lip curling. “A filthy lie. And you have a filthy mind, to think it might be true.”

Take it down a peg, woman. I'm obviously a foreigner. “So there're no slaves on the island.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You looking to buy?” And her tone suggested I'd better not be.

“No. I'm just making sure I don't have to worry.”

“Ah,” the woman said, unappeased. “Because you are such a beauty we would fracture our laws to have you.” She tossed her head and strutted away.

I'd caused enormous offense and perhaps destroyed any chance of me, or possibly anyone else in the troupe, earning any money in Golden Fields, but I'd achieved what I'd set out to accomplish. I moved to the back of the wagon and pulled up the drop.

Aryne was kneeling in the wagon, and her head flew up as the light poured in, her eyes blinking. I could see her trembling, the muscles in her limbs quivering with tension. Her lips clenched in a grim line, her eyes boring into me.

I had engineered the conversation for this purpose. Knowing it had worked, I had no idea what to say.

Aryne stood and made to descend from the wagon.

“No,” I told her. “Stay here.”

“Why?” she demanded. “I'm not a slave.”

The joy she should have felt in that knowledge was absent, her voice flat. “Border might see you and try to take you.”

“He doesn't come here,” she insisted.

“Because he didn't want to bring you here. That doesn't mean he won't come here looking for you.”

“I don't care.” And she climbed out of the wagon before I could stop her. “I hope he does. I'm gonna kill him.”

“You will not!”

She glared at me and stomped away.

“Aryne! Come back here!”

Who was I kidding? That only worked when I surprised her.

“Be back here before we leave!”

Zaire, when had I turned into a nag?

Atara's call was that we needed to spend the night to rest and get some supplies. There was no place for us to camp, nor to perform, however. So we had to split up and spend coin to spend the night in bunkers. The troupe would meet again on the outskirts of town the next morning and move on. Aryne hadn't returned when this decision was made, and I fretted about it.

“She'll find us when she's ready to,” said Taro, pulling on my hand.

“The medicine man might find her first.”

“She was with him only as long as she wanted to be. Then she left him.”

“So?”

“So she's a force unto herself. You won't be able to find her. Neither will he.”

I knew he was right. I knew that if we went out looking for her, we wouldn't find her, and the sensible thing really was to stay in one place and let her find us. Still, it felt irresponsible to do nothing. Not to mention callous. She was upset.

Taro assumed an expression of shock. “You're not turning into a mother, are you?”

Prat. “I'm going to slap you.”

He grinned. “Later.” And he winked.

There was the usual dispute as we bickered over which bunker—cheap or extravagant—we should stay at. I won only because his choice was fully booked. I did, however, allow myself to hire an extra room for Aryne.

And as soon as our door was closed, Taro had me back against it, kissing me with a hunger I had to admit to myself was flattering. I couldn't help giggling through it. Because no one had ever been so eager to kiss me before.

“Heartless woman,” he muttered.

I laughed.

“We have been too long in the company of other people,” he muttered, pulling the hem of my shirt out of my skirt. “Enough to drive me mad. Just think, when we're finally back home, all those long hours at the Stall, all to ourselves.”

That probably wouldn't happen. Taro was sure to have tired of me before we were back at the mainland. But all I said was, “Aha, the real reason they don't want Shields and Sources bedding down together.” And really, with the level of distraction it created, who could blame them?

When I woke the next morning, I could hear voices in the next room. Taro, who was doing most of the talking. Aryne, speaking the odd word here and there, in such a low voice it was hard to hear at all.

I shouldn't have let her come back on her own. I should have gone looking for her. It didn't matter that I wouldn't have found her. It was the principle of the thing.

But the selfish part of me wanted to take advantage of nights like the night before, while they were available to me. And the time to overcome that selfish part of me was the night before, when it would have done some good, not the morning after.

I dressed and stepped out into the corridor, knocking on Aryne's door.

There was silence on the other side of the door, until I heard Taro say, “Are you going to tell her to come in or what?”

“Her room, ain't it? She paid for it.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open.

Taro was dressed and shaved and sitting on the floor by the door. Aryne was still lying on her mattress, dressed in the clothes she'd been wearing the day before. “Are you all right?” I asked her.

She shrugged, her expression shuttered. “'Course.”

“Must you lie to me?” I sighed. “Of course you're upset about what you've learned. I'd have to be an idiot not to know that.”

“Why'd you ask, then?”

Patience, please, patience.

And once I'd thought no one would test me as much as Taro always had.

“She's going to start her deep breathing, now,” Taro told Aryne with a wink.

“Heh?”

“It's what Shields do, when there's a chance their vaunted calm might suffer from the slightest imperfection.”

Git.

Aryne took a deep breath.

I wasn't going to try to pry information about her feelings out of her. Her feelings were her own, and she would share them with those she wished.

And I supposed she wished to share them with Taro. At least, she had been talking to him before I had come in. “Have you had breakfast?”

She shook her head.

“I'll see to it. But I'd like you to hang about your room for today.” It might have been the whole horse and barn door thing, with her running around the night before, but I wanted to cut down on any opportunities for Border to snatch her.

The bunker's cook was assembling the traditional Flatwell breakfast of bright fruit and dense bread. I collected it from him and brought it up to Aryne's room, where she and Taro still sat. And I had the feeling I had interrupted them again.

For some reason, that saddened me.

I left them to it. I had an unpleasant duty to perform. I might as well get it over with. I had to remind Atara that we needed to stop at Golden Fields. I headed out to the designated meeting place.

There was a group of people already collected there. But I noticed a lack of the usual possessions, the rolled mats and the animals, and the wagon appeared half-empty.

“—gratitude?” Atara was hissing back at Leverett.

“How long are we to be grateful?” he demanded. “All our lives? Might not be too long, way things fall around here.”

“You think the Glass Fair will do so well by you?”

Oh lords. A mutiny.

“There's less chance of us dying. That means a lot.”

“You've had a good run, Atara,” Beril told her, sounding reasonable. “But you can't expect people to live under your curse for the rest of their lives. It's happened too many times.”

“There is no curse! That was proven. It was all Yesit.”

“Yesit didn't cause Velly to drown in Red Heights.”

“That was a storm.”

“A storm that came after we'd lingered in Red Heights for four days,” said Leverett. “The curse can't be broken, and I'm not living under it anymore.”

Gods, how could these people do this to themselves? A few words spoken over candles. That was all it had been. Just words, people.

Atara looked furious, and was glorious in her fury. I imagined I could see light dancing about her head and shoulders.

I had to admit to myself that I was disappointed by what I was witnessing. I'd thought they were like a kind of family.

Then again, I'd seen enough to know that family could wield the sharpest weapons.

“If honor cannot keep you,” said Atara, “I will not waste throat.”

Leverett hesitated at that. Sol grabbed his arm and pulled him away, back toward the village.

I felt uncomfortable as I remained in place, watching the others leave. I was even more uncomfortable when Atara noticed my presence.

“We need to search for our family,” I reminded her, speaking first, as it appeared Atara wasn't going to speak at all. “It's the reason we came to Flatwell. You know this.”

She stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. I worried that she was going to object, to claim that we'd never made the agreement that we had.