I scoffed. “I don’t need a minder.”
“No?” He looked aggrieved. “Because you definitely would have gone into those caves if I hadn’t been here.”
“Oh my god,” I said, infuriated. “I’m capable of making my own decisions. I don’t need you lecturing me about safety.”
Daziel’s expression was fierce. “You’re too impulsive, Naomi. You want to wander into a dark cave without any idea what’s there. You follow the winds through a storm. You let a stranger stay with you with no concern for your safety!”
I felt like I’d been jabbed in a soft spot. I lifted my chin, embarrassed and hurt. “Would you rather I hadn’t taken you in?”
His black eyes sparked. “I’d rather you don’t put yourself in positions where you’re endangered all the time. You trust too easily.”
“Are you telling me I’m in danger from you?” I shot back. If he was going to insult me, I’d give back the same. “That you’d hurt me?”
“I could.” He stepped closer. His heat warmed me like a caress, and copper gleamed across his eyes. “Did you ever consider that?”
My stomach clenched. I hadn’t taken the idea seriously after the first day or two, and I felt foolish to be called out on how maybe I should have. But it was hard to stay wary of someone who quizzed you on flash cards and cleaned the bathroom and made coffee every morning. Any wariness I’d had regarding him had been firmly dismantled as he learned to crochet with Gilli and played knockball with the boys. “Yes,” I said testily, embarrassed even more. “Why are you making this into a big deal?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself down. I’d never seen him so serious before, save the night I’d tried to take his seal, and then he’d been angry rather than grave. Now I watched as he forcibly relaxed his jaw. When he opened his eyes they were still bright but the opaline glint across them had softened. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice restrained. “I just wish you’d take your safety more seriously.”
“Why do you even care about my safety?” It was odd to hear him talk likehewanted to take care ofmeinstead of me making sure he wasn’t chomping chunks out of pint glasses.
“Are you serious?” His brow furrowed, and his mouth pressed into a firm line.
It took the wind out of my sails to realize he did care about my safety, that he’d yelled because he’d been genuinely worried. It left me feeling wrong-footed by this whole interaction, like I’d discovered a new side of Daziel. “Do you really think I should be worried about the winds pulling on me?” I asked. “Areyouworried?”
He turned his frown toward the carvings of the Ziz, the Behemoth, and the Leviathan. “The birds have left Talum. The winds are behaving oddly. There’s heat storms and strange rain and flowers blooming out of season. I think everyone should be worried.”
His bluntness alarmed me. “What do you think is going on?”
He shrugged. “I think we should all pay attention to anything odd, and if there’s strange magic, don’t tackle it by yourself.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. It didn’t seem positive if a demon from the wilderness was worried about the magic. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Nine
“I knew it,” Leah saidthe next day when I told her what Daziel had said. We were in the Testylier House common room, where we’d curled up on the most comfortable couch before the fireplace and wrapped a cozy blue blanket around our legs. Each of us clasped a mug of mint tea, a plate of spice biscuits on the table before us, while outside a storm lashed at the windows. “Ezra’s right, the Sanhedrin should be figuring out why the magic is off and fixing it.”
I put my tea down so I could rub her arm gently. “Are you worried about your family?”
She nodded. “I’m not so worried about the autumn winds being off, but it’s more if the Maestril also acts differently. We depend on the Maestril—it dries out the soil soaked by rains all winter and blows away the dust brought in by the Trio Winds. It’s like clockwork. But…” She sounded defeated. “Nothing else is normal this year, so what if the Maestril isn’t either?”
The riverlands produced the nation’s silk, wine, and olive oil—Ena-Cinnai’s major exports. If their harvests failed, it wouldn’t just bankrupt families like Leah’s; it would hit the whole nation. “I’m sure the Maestril will be fine.”
She pressed her lips together. “I hope so.”
Marie, a girl from the fourth floor, stuck her head into the common room. Water dripped from her white School of Religious Studies blazer, and her hair was plastered to her head; she’d clearly just come in. “Naomi? There’s a courier here for you.”
Leah and I exchanged curious glances. I’d never had a package delivered before, only letters from my family.
“Thanks,” I said, climbing out from beneath my blanket and heading into the foyer, Leah beside me. A woman stood there in the brown-and-green outfit of the courier service, a slightly damp-looking rectangular package at her feet. “Hi? I’m Naomi bat Yardena.”
The courier scrounged a pad out of her waterproof satchel and held it out, rainwater forming puddles around her. “Sign here, please.”
I did, glancing at the returnee’s address as I did so. “Oh no.”
“What?” Leah leaned over my shoulder to see. “Who’s it from?”
“My aunt.” I smiled weakly at the courier as she departed. “I completely forgot she told me to come to a party she’s hosting this weekend.” The idea of being presented to my aunt’s colleagues and peers made me sick. I imagined they’d be adult versions of Élodie and Birra, dressed brilliantly and sneering politely. “And she told me to confirm I had a decent outfit or she’d send something.”
