Ellmo has crept closer, and he’s peering up at Rocco.
The guardsman is looking back at him. “How old are you? Five?”
“I’mseven!”
“Well, you’re small for seven. You look like you’re five.”
“You look like the back end of a pig.”
Olive scrambles to her feet. “Ellmo!”
Ellmo picks up a handful of pebbles and chucks them at the guardsman. To my absolute shock, Rocco picks up a small handful of his own and lightly flings them right back. Ellmo yelps in surprise and skitters away, which makes Olive glare at them both—but the boy bursts out laughing.
“Areyoufive?” I say to Rocco.
“He started it.”
“So the answer isyesthen?” I begin to pack away my supplies.“We should go. We don’t know how many other people are going to be waiting to shoot at us.”
“You shouldn’t have too much trouble once you reach the main road,” Olive says. “And truly, I wouldn’t have caused harm if I hadn’t thought . . . well. You know.”
I look back at her. “I know.” I hesitate with my hand on the last of my supplies. I want to give her my jar of ointment, but it’s my only one, and I might need it for Rocco’s wound. “I really am sorry we frightened you. I don’t know how late we’ll be back, but if you come to our house tomorrow, I’d like to put some more salve on your stitches to prevent infection.”
She looks startled by that. “Thank you, Tessa.”
I tie up my pack and glance at her son, who’s creeping forward again. “I think there are some toys that were left by the last children who were in the house, if you’d like to come, too.”
His eyes widen, and he nods.
Rocco picks up my pack, and I slip my arms under the straps. It’s just as heavy as it was before, but I’m better with the buckles now.
Olive catches my arm. “Wait.”
I wait.
She studies me, her brown eyes searching my face. “If you came from Kandala with our king, why are you staying all the way out here? Why didn’t you stay in the palace?”
I should have expected this question, but because I didn’t, it summons emotion I’m not ready for. I think of Corrick and the lies and the way I want to hold Rian under the water. I have to swallow it all away.
“Because,” I say, “there were . . . ?complications.”
Her hand is still on my arm, and a pulse of shared understandingpasses between us. I don’t know if it’s loss or fear or past betrayal, but I feel it, and I can see in her eyes that she feels it too.
“You don’t trust him,” she says.
I should lie—but as I told Rocco, I’m terrible at that.
“I know he’s your king,” I say. “And I know everyone here is remarkably loyal to him. I understand why. He’s done amazing things for the people of Ostriary. I know Oren Crane was terrible, and the war was terrible, and that you all need steel so desperately.” I have to take a deep breath. “But no. I’m sorry. I don’t trust him. That’s why we’re out here.”
Olive nods and lets go of my arm. “I’ll let you be on your way then.” She glances between us. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
I nod in return. “Tomorrow.” I wave to her son. “Goodbye, Ellmo.”
“Goodbye, Tessa,” he calls. He throws a pebble at Rocco.
“I’m going to break all the toys before you get there,” Rocco says.
“I’m going to break your face when I get there,” the boy calls back.
