Soren had an answer to that, even if he couldn’t share it. What proof there’d been he’d destroyed with starfire no warden should ever have. And rumors of the death-defying machine weren’t circulating amongst the general public in any country or amongst wardens. The wardens’ governor had kept that information restricted, and Soren didn’t have the authority to disclose it.
“We’ll have a late meal somewhere close by. She’ll need a nap afterward,” Soren finally agreed. If word got around that he was reticent to share reports from the poison fields that could possibly aid other wardens and keep them safe, it would cause complications.
Harald snorted. “If she’s a tithe, naps won’t help her.”
Training had never been easy, but the wardens tasked with teaching them how to survive had still made allowances for the care younger children needed.
He kept hold of Raiah on the way out of the resupply station and to a café three blocks over, set up against the town’s inner wall. The place seemed to cater to the neighborhood as opposed to those passing through. Raiah’s eyes went wide in her face when she saw the clockwork toy train that rode around a set of miniature tracks attached to the wall near the ceiling.
“Look!” she said, pointing at the toy train.
Soren fought back a wince at her excited cry in Solarian, Raiah clearly having forgotten not to chatter here. But she was four and used to getting her way, and Soren couldn’t be angry at her excitement. She’d not had any of the comforts of her home since fleeing Oeiras, and if the toy distracted her, so much the better.
“Came from the south, did you?” Harald asked.
Soren didn’t respond as he guided Raiah over to an empty table by the window. She climbed up onto the wooden chair, head tilted up as she watched the toy train make another circuit around the café.
The waitstaff consisted of a middle-aged woman who bustled over to their table with a notepad in hand, a smile for Raiah, and a polite nod for the wardens. She spoke in the trade tongue, her accent influenced by the country they were in. “Menu is posted on the flip cards, but what would the little one like to drink?”
“Fruit juice, if you have it. I’ll take some water,” Soren said, sticking to the same language.
“Iced tea for me,” Harald said.
The woman left to fill their drink order. Soren picked up the small metal stand that had several cards attached to it by a ring. He flipped through it once before leaning in close to Raiah, switching over to her native Solarian. “They have a meat pie you might like.”
“Yes,” Raiah said, most of her attention on the train.
She’d been mostly good about not arguing with him about the food he gave her. Their supply was low in his pack, and he aimed to replenish it in the town for her. He could hunt while on the road, but he’d never feed her any wild game.
Soren opted for a meat wrap when the waitress returned, placing his orders while Harald went with half a roasted chicken and some summer vegetables.
“Your Solarian is good. Is your Ashionen that terrible you won’t speak it?” Harald asked, sipping his iced tea. Several slices of citrus floated in it, the colorful rinds mixed in with the ice.
“I handle borders in the south,” Soren said.
“Gone a bit out of your way by coming up here if you were meaning to head back to the Warden’s Island.”
“Revenants.” Soren shrugged. “You know how it is. I needed a safe place to rest for her. I can’t get that outside of city walls.”
Raiah had twisted around in her seat, head back as she watched the clockwork toy train make another circuit around the café, passing overhead. Soren knew for a fact she had plenty of clockwork toys back in Calhames, though none had been packed for their travels. She must miss them.
“Did you deal with the revenants in Solaria or Ashion?”
“Does it matter? I dealt with them.”
Harald gulped down some of his iced tea, slouching in his chair. The café was only half-full, it being well past noon, but the patrons present eyed their table with an uncomfortable wariness Soren had seen all his life.
A warden’s job was to cleanse the land, and that included eradicating revenants. Most people always focused on the dead over the alchemy involved in their job, fearful of contamination from spores by being within proximity of a warden. But the Poison Accords granted them access to every town and city in every country on Maricol. There was no border or wall closed to them. That had been agreed to millennia ago.
It didn’t stop people from being uncomfortable around wardens.
When their food came, Soren cut a hole in the crust of Raiah’s meat pie to let the steam out. “Let it cool first.”
Raiah picked up the child-sized fork that came with the plate and proceeded to dig out a bite and blow on it loudly. Soren left her to it and took a bite of his meat wrap. He was disappointed in the lack of spices, far too used to Solarian heat in all the dishes he ate with Vanya.
“How is it someone your age managed to get a job delivering border reports to the Imperial court?” Harald asked halfway through their awkward, silent meal.
Soren didn’t freeze, only because he’d spent enough time around Vanya and in the Imperial court to know that was a fine way to lose the verbal high ground. “I don’t know what you mean.”
