And something was wrong with Ezra. Something he wasn’t telling me. Or worse, something he didn’t understand. I could see it in the way he held himself as if his whole body hurt. It hadn’t been like that until he’d helped me.
“All right,” he said, sounding unsure. “Find some trousers so you don’t damn near get yourself killed again, and I’ll meet you at the dock behind the Mission the day after tomorrow. In the morning.”
I nodded eagerly, extending my hand to shake on it, but he only stared at my fingers, something weary in his gaze.
“Go on,” he whispered. “Get moving.”
So I did.
Any other day, I would have lingered at the mill, mapping every bit of it with my fingers, learning how the river made it move. But my palms stung from bleeding scratches, and my mind buzzed with unspoken questions, and no amount of work could numb my unease. There was little I could do but verify the mechanical issues Julian had noted in his neat handwriting. The mill’s workings were too archaic to ever be retrofitted with radiance. I cursed him silently for sending me on such a far-flung errand to check something he already suspected. Was he so eager to keep me out of sight?
The shadows were long by the time I made my way back to the Mission. Bloodied, starving, and nursing a pounding headache, I barreled into Julian in my desperate hunt for a bath.
He took me by the shoulders, eyes wide. We stood in the courtyard, the moon high above. “What in the name of Progress has happened to you?”
A thin bubble of laughter escaped me. “I was startled by a bee, and tripped over my skirts, and fell into brambles.”
Julian drew a breath like he wanted to say something other than what escaped his lips. “The House should have warned me that you were impossibly clumsy.” He made a great show of dusting his hands off. “Keep a better eye on where you’re walking. We can’t have the people of Frostbrook thinking the House sent an incompetent child to their Mission.”
All the hysterical mirth in me drained away. Being characterized that way made me feel as if I’d been slapped across the face. My eyes welled up with tears. Julian didn’t know me. He didn’t know anything.
“Oh.” Julian shuffled back, looking around in the dark as if expecting to find someone who knew how to handle an emotional girl. “Come, now. It’s late. Perhaps I was too harsh.”
Little did Julian know. I might not be an incompetent child, but I’d just promised to keep a grave secret. I’d promised to hide an Animator from my Senior, from the House. From the world Ezra didn’t belong in.
Somehow, it felt like the right thing to do. More than anything had ever felt right.
I dried my eyes on my sleeves. “Thatwasrather harsh.” I sniffled, mustering a glare.
Julian blinked. His mouth quirked, but in the low light, I couldn’t tell if he’d nearly smiled or grimaced at me.
“But no matter. I won’t disappoint you again,” I said quietly. I needed to clear my head. Ezra and the secrets I was eager to learn from him—and willing to keep for him—had nothing to do with the march of Progress. I was part of something much bigger than my selfish desires.
Though, as I stood there with my dress torn and leaves in my hair, I couldn’t quite believe that anything was bigger than a boy who made plants do his bidding.
Julian studied me, frowning as if conflicted by whatever he saw. “You’re not,” he began, before halting. “You should clean yourself up. There’s salve in the cabinet in the washroom.”
“Of course. Thank you.” I hurried past, not eager to be scrutinized, not sure what Julian would see if he looked much closer. But he called my name.
When I turned back, he was still frowning. “It’s true the House didn’t warn me that you were clumsy. I was told that you were headstrong, curious, and quite brave. I admit I haven’t known you for long, but I hope I’ll see evidence of those qualities.”
Frustrated and tired, I struggled to understand his meaning. “Yes, Senior.”
“See to it you return earlier in the future. There are—there are dangers in the night.”
“I’ll be mindful,” I said bitterly. I didn’t need him to tell me that I’d likely trip and fall and die in the dark now that I’d already proven myself incapable of staying alive in broad daylight.
Before he could think of anything else to tell me, I scurried away, eager to be alone with the ache of my thoughts.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It took me six trips up and down the stairs with heavy, sloshing buckets to fill a bath. By the time I dumped the last in, I was sweating so much, I dunked myself into the frigid water without heating it first. Shocked to numbness, I used salt from a bowl beside the basin and a bar of acrid soap to get the grease and dirt and dried blood off my skin and out of my hair. My teeth chattered so hard, the clicking filled the room as I splashed and scrubbed every bit of my skin.
Just when I thought I might die of cold, I sprang out of the bath, pink as a newborn. I dunked my dress in the water to soak, and only then did I heat it with a burst of radiance to boil away the stench of my fear. Crouching beside the stove to warm my shivering body, I drank goat’s milk and devoured a loaf of soft bread with blackberry jam. I felt like a wild creature, bare toes against stone, fingers sticky.
The warmer my body got, the more it hurt.
This was only my second night in Frostbrook, but my bones told a different story. I felt like I’d aged ten years. How could I continue at this pace? Already, my hands were blistered, and my shoulders ached terriblyfrom hauling water. No one had warned me that the labor would be harder than what I’d known as a student at the House of Industry.
