The first thing I notice is her drawing of a smiling face.
She’s not even awake, but that weight lifts off of me nevertheless.
Tasa has left little notes of encouragement—hearts and stars and comments on my bread notes that make me smile.
And then I see that she found my questions, and answered them, too.
My heart pounds as I read them.
You’re not a burden.
No qualification. I swallow.
Actually yes, organizing my workshop would be great if you really don’t mind? I know you probably don’t know what a lot of stuff is, but also I genuinely do not know where anything is, so.
I think you may be underestimating what people can do without magic?
I got you some pants! And a shirt. I hope that’s okay, I don’t actually knowwhat’s underneath your robeswhat you like but thought you might not want to wear the same clothes every day?
I have to squint to make out the words she attempted to cross out, and they make my lips curve in amusement.
Probably I should be bothered that she answered my question about what she wants with a gift forme, but then again, that is perhaps its own answer.
I didn’t ask what she wanted for herself, after all.
And Iambothered that this must mean she forewent payment for her labor to take care of me.
But mostly I’m—perhaps smug? that she is thinking about whether I wear pants.
Then I see her last answer, and my smile fades.
I’m not sure if this one is actually a question for me, but just in case: I think something small to hold onto.
What do you need to live?I’d asked.
As a sage, I should be the one able to answer that question. When I wrote it, I meant something more basic.
But her answer—the answer of a person without divine power—is more fundamental still.
I sit with that for a few minutes until the bread is done.
The bread collapsed.
Tasa warned me this had been happening to her since she moved here, but she taskedmewith figuring out how to fix it.
Something small to hold onto.
A pot of dirt.
It’s time to start figuring out how I will.
Chapter 4
Tasa
Iwakebeforedawn,warm and disinclined to move. But as the light starts emerging, I’ll be able to see enough to get down the mountain and do my work. I really should move.
I roll over with my pile of blankets to hold onto this drowsy ease for another minute—I’m still getting used to the unanticipated relief of not having to worry about how I’ll affect anyone else’s schedule—and see that Kovan is still sleeping at my feet.
