I wondered if he’d understood me until he finally moved his head up and down, once.
“Would you like to take a look?”
Shifting on his small legs, he rapidly shook his head.
He was willing to speak, but he wasn’t willing to get close. I could work with that. “How about I just describe where the markings are?”
A nod.
I doubted the boy had ever seen a map. But looters were a nomadic bunch, and they’d probably explored more of this world than me. “They’re spread throughout the map, about thirty of them in total. Some of the red circles are grouped together. One of those groups is somewhat near the Domus. There’s another one just south of the city center, and one next to the middle of the mountain range. There really aren’t any clusters by the coast.”
He blinked. Then, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, he said, “The Horrads.”
“Horrads?” I repeated, and the boy nodded again. Beside me, Stefano appeared just as perplexed as me. “Can you tell me what those are?”
“Dad always said not to look at them.” His eyes dropped to the squash plant before him. “Hide your eyes.”
The Horrads were living things, then. People, probably. “Do you think the circles are marking where the Horrads live?”
Bony shoulders lifted on a shrug.
On the far left wall, the kitchen door swung closed. The sudden thud caused the boy to jump and twist toward the entranceway. He knees bunched to run.
“Wait!” I blurted.
Rather than running, he froze, shoulders hiked to his ears.
Don’t make a mess of this.
Gentling my voice, I said, “I’m sorry. I’ve just never heard of the Horrads and would like to know more. You don’t have to stay, but I think you could help me if you did.”
I glanced at Stefano, wondering if his reassurance would also help, but he seemed to be focused on the kitchen area.
“Were you ever with the Horrads?” I asked.
The boy glanced from the kitchen door, to me, to the door again, scrawny legs quaking.
“Please,” I quietly implored.
Biting his lip, he turned his head to me again, though his body stayed twisted away, ready to bolt. He answered my question with a silent nod.
“Okay, that’s really helpful. Thank you.” I gave what I hoped was a gentle smile. “I just have a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”
Apparently, I accomplished the beseeching, motherly attitude I was going for, because he shifted his whole body toward me again.
“Were you ever with a big group of them? Maybe where these clusters of circles are?”
“Dad said it was a Horrad city. We didn’t go in. Just passed by. Not everyone, though,” he revealed hollowly.
With the kitchen closed off and the high Citadel walls blocking any wind, the garden was quiet, except for the occasional clanking of metal from the training field. It made the haunted note in the boy’s voice even more apparent.
“What do you mean, not everyone?” I asked.
“I never looked at them. But…” He swallowed and toed the ground with his boot.
“But what?”
“But I heard,” he mumbled.
