“Because ice is in short supply,” Nomi explains again. “Ice cream can come in any flavor—”
I gasp.
“—but the ingredients you always need are dairy—usually cream and milk together—sugar, and ice. Sanctuary Isle has enough cows for the dairy, but ice and sugar have to come overland. And ice is more expensive to import, because of course it melts, and it has a long way to travel from other mountains.”
I frown at her. “But Sanctuary Isle has a mountain—oh.”
If ice comes from mountains, Sanctuary Mountain has plenty of ice on its tip.
But that wouldn’t have mattered if no one could get to it because of the Quiet.
Nomi nods. “I’m sure in your time ice used to be brought down from the mountain. But the machinery to make that happen requires more than one person to use, so since no one could go up the mountain—”
“No one could get ice.”
Iam the barrier to ice cream.
Or: I was.
I didn’t even know where ice came from. What other consequences of the Quiet did I not know to think through?
“So this is why you hoard the ice cream.” It all makes sense now. I’d hoard it, too.
Teren breaks the silence. “We don’t really think about it like that, honestly. It’s just made ice cream extra special to everyone here. We usually only splurge for ice cream for festival season. It’s like an extra gift, rather than a limitation.”
That’s a very sweet way to think about it, except that it doesn’t result in me being able to eat nothing but ice cream for the rest of my life.
And I’m not sure Zan fully knew what he was starting by introducing me to ice cream, but with all of Nomi’s talk about helping sages find what they want to do with their lives, I have an idea.
But I probably don’t understand the consequences well enough, because I don’t live here. It’s enraging how much basic information I don’t know about how the world works. I don’t want to takeawaya special thing that people love, after all.
So maybe I shouldn’t make more trouble. I can’t trust my instincts.
My bowl is empty.
My heart is... not empty. But squeezing almost painfully.
Zan sets his bowl down and reaches into his robe to withdraw a necklace, which he passes to Teren. “Here. This will take care of your eyes when you have to go out. The talisman should hide the rest.”
My chest tightens with more emotion.
Zan always has extra spells on hand, made with his own power, in case he needs to rescue a sage. Always prepared to help.
Always prepared to hide, so who better to show me how?
If that’s what I want.
But looking at Teren, who is gratefully, carefully handling the necklace so it doesn’t break, I wonder if it is.
Imagine if we didn’t have to hide, just because of who we are.
Imagine if we could just be all of ourselves.
At least one of the emotions I’m feeling now is familiar wrath, and I lean into it.
And when Teren moves to put the necklace on, I reach out a hand to stop him.
His surprised gaze flicks to mine.
