Vera smiled gently. “Those are wonderful names. And what about your baby sister?”
Finn’s brow furrowed. “She doesn’t have one yet. Mama was too sick to name her.”
“That’s all right.” Vera gestured toward the baby, who was still crying. “May I hold her? I think it would make her feel better.”
Finn hesitated, but looking into Vera’s face, Venn knew what the boy would see. Her goodness wasn’t something that could be hidden. The boy nodded, and Vera kept her motions gentle as she stepped forward and lifted the baby to her chest.
“Can you feed her?” Sarah asked around her thumb. “I think she’s hungry, because Mama died and we don’t have milk.”
Vera softly patted the baby’s back as she rocked her. “We don’t have any milk either, but we can get some.” She shot a look to Venn, and he dipped his chin. There had to be a home nearby, or a farm. He’d find something.
Sarah eyed Vera and drifted forward a step. “Do you have food? Our food is hard. It hurts to eat it.”
“We have food,” Vera assured her. “Venn, why don’t you get our things?”
He nodded, then glanced over at Finn. “Would you like to come with me?”
The boy looked torn; stay with his sisters so he could protect them, or keep Venn in his sights?
He finally chose the latter, following Venn as he walked away. That dagger was still in his hand, but Venn chose to ignore it. He kept his voice soft as they walked away from the clearing. “I didn’t want to ask in front of Sarah, but I’d like to know where your father is.”
Finn kicked at a small rock, and it skittered out of his path. “He’s not dead.”
“I’m glad. That wasn’t what I asked, though.”
The boy glanced up at him, and he looked far too old for his years. “He left before the baby was born. Mama was sick and couldn’t keep walking. He left us here to get help at Salvation.”
Venn frowned. “Salvation?”
“It’s a camp outside the city of Zahdir, for Devendrans. The Mortisians are nice, there—some travelers said so. He went to get medicine, and maybe borrow a wagon.”
Venn’s thoughts raced. Zahdir was a large city in Mortise, and it was one the highway bypassed. It was a few days south from where they were. He’d known there had been an increase in refugees, but he hadn’t heard of any official camp. And certainly not one so deep in Mortise. All that aside, if Finn’s father had gone there for aid before the baby’s birth, he should have already been back by now.
Judging by Finn’s set jaw, the boy had reached the same conclusion. Thus his insistence that his father couldn’t be dead.
He’d already lost his mother; he couldn’t bear to lose his father, too.
They reached the horse, tethered to a low branch. Finn’s eyes widened. “You really do have a horse.”
He hated that the boy had doubted him, but he couldn’t blame him. Finn was cautious, and he had every right to be.
“Would you like to ride him back to your camp?” Venn asked.
Finn’s eyes rounded, a little fear sparking in them.
“I’ll hold the reins,” Venn assured him. “You won’t fall off.”
“That’s all right,” the boy said, looking side-eyed at the horse. “I’ll walk.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Venn led the horse back into the thicket of trees, with Finn walking beside him. “Where are you from?” he asked the boy.
“Lythe.”
Venn startled at that. “You’re a long way from home.” He was also very far north; if someone from Lythe wanted to cross into Mortise, they should have done so much farther south. “What brought your family to Mortise?”
The boy shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know.”
Hewasonly eight years old; it was entirely possible Finn didn’t know why his parents had traveled here. Then again, it was also possible he sought to protect his parents, if they were criminals fleeing Devendra. But Venn really didn’t care about that right now. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me while we’re away from your sisters?” he asked.
