She moves back out of my reach.
“This is the second time you’ve mentioned escape. I think that’s something for you—but not me.”
I tilt my head to the side. “For all of us, one day.”
Then her eyes flash back to me. “Not all humans deserve freedom.”
My mouth opens and closes, and I think of the foremen who join in whipping, who take comfort women, who use us just as the giants do.
“You’re right. Those who sided with the enemy are the enemy—but the future of the humans is freedom.”
She doesn’t scoff; she just looks at me with mistrustful eyes.
I wish I could say I didn’t understand, but I’ve been selfish. My whole world was Mikal for so long, but being in the under mountain changed everything. Now, the world is Teo. Svanna. Arlet. Iryth. Liana—it’s expanded to fit her, too.
I pull my hair over my shoulder and say, “If you come with me, you’ll notice that all the men wear braids.”
That draws her out of her thoughts.
“Don’t they worry about whatever their version of woodlice is?”
I shake my head, thinking of all the times I had to shave Mikal’s hair before working hours. “No. I think the lice might fear such mighty warriors.”
She laughs. “You said they were gentle.”
I look up at her. “They are. And the unmated women wear their hair in a bun— like a twisted loaf of bread atop their head.”
“No braids for the women?”
“Only when they’re mated. Then their mates will braid their hair.”
She cocks her head to the side. “And what of the women who love other women?”
I smile. “There’s a mated pair like that in Enduvida. Iryth and Svanna—they braid each other’s hair. There’s also a pairing of two men.”
She draws her brows together and touches her own locks. “So those couples are allowed?”
I nod. “They areloved.”
“Say your words aren’t just nonsense, and, one day, I’m actually taken back to these caves. What if… my heart is pulled both ways?”
“Everyone in the under mountain has one of these put in their chest,” I say, gesturing to the red-orange gem embedded in my sternum. “It will heal you and let you hear the song of gems more clearly. When you meet your mate, it will sing a new song only the two of you can hear.”
“It looks like it hurt. I can see where it attaches to your skin,” she says.
“I don’t remember. I was dying when mine was put in.”
“May I?”
I nod as she reaches over and presses her fingers to the stone. The lyre string of heat in my stomach flexes, and I panic, not wanting to burn her. I stop breathing, and she senses the shift.
“It doesn’t hurt?”
“Not at all.”
I don’t think I can adequately explain how my new strain of magic appeared in Zlosa without first talking to Liana, so I resist the urge to explain that too.
“And you can hear music?”
