I force myself to pay attention when Elianna says something about the Zhagarn.
“I’ve been thinking about what the ferryman said. That they wereheaded to the Spires.”
“Maybe they said that to plant a false trail?” Trick says.
“I doubt it. They must have known they were leaving him to die. Who would he tell? No, I think they were just careless. The last letter I received from a friend at home, two and twenty days before we left, said that the Sorcerers’ Guild Deeded Territory was still safe. The Zhagarn have been making incursions on the edges of the Freeholders’ Territory and trying to breach ours, but with little luck—or so say the rumors. Nobody has reported direct word from the Freeholders in a long time, though. Maybe this is part of a plot to advance on two sides?” The sorcerer shakes her head in frustration. “I don’t know battle strategy, so I really have no idea.”
“Idoknow battle strategy, and I doubt that’s the plan,” Kaelen says. “Too small a force. No, they undoubtedly have some secret plot that makes sense only to them, but it would help if we could figure it out. In the meantime, we’ll try our best to avoid them.”
That sounds good to me, but my mind can’t focus on strategy.If you get separated from usflattened me, and I can feel myself sinking, losing touch with the conversation.
“… hungry?”
“Soli?”
I try to fight my way back to the surface when I hear my name, but then someone pokes my shoulder hard, and a quail drumstick appears in front of my face.
“Stop thinking and eat your dinner,” Chitai says, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Your thoughts are so loud I can’t hear my own.”
“Thank you.” I take the drumstick and promptly drop it when it burns my hand. But the desert warrior’s reflexes are as quick as her horse-riding skills are impressive, and she catches it before it hits the dirt. She wraps a bit of white cloth around the end and holds it out to me again. “Your quail, my lady.”
“Thank you. Sorry. Deep in tangled-up musings, I guess.”
She drops down to sit next to me, and I bite into the bird, which is absolutely delicious. The scent of roasting meat and fire and whatever herbs are in Elianna’s ointment combine into an aroma so wonderful, I want to sit and breathe it in. “I’ve never eaten anything this good. Does it taste better because I helped prepare it? I’ve never cleaned a bird before. Feathers went everywhere. I probably have them in my hair!”
She studies me and then shakes her head. “No. Don’t see any. But why would it matter? Think of feathers as a badge of honor.”
I take another bite and chew, considering. “There’s honor in plucking a quail? I highly doubt it.”
“There’s honor in providing for the tribe.” She picks her portion of quail clean and then opens another bit of cloth to reveal two roasted potatoes, one of which she hands to me. This time, I’m smart enough to test the temperature with one fingertip before I take it.
“Catching the game,” she continues. “Cleaning it. Cooking it. Fighting our enemies. Protecting the tribe. Bearing the children. If you discount your worth for doing any of these things, you’re negating the value of all who do that task.”
I stare into the fire, potato forgotten in my hands, and consider this. “I never thought about it like that,” I say slowly.
“No offense, riverlander, but for someone who knows so much from books, you never thought about a lot of things. You can’t use a knife, and you don’t know how to fight. You never rode a horse, you never drove a wagon, you never cleaned a bird.”
“Hey! I was trapped on the grounds of a library for my entire life. If you think—”
She whips one of her daggers out so fast I never saw her draw it, then flips it in her hand and holds it out, hilt facing me. “What I think is that you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. Were you born knowing how to fight off a Fell? To poison people? To make them do this … emesis?”
“Definitely not.”
“Just as I was not born knowing how to gut enemies with my daggers.” She leans back, a look of satisfaction on her face. “Do you see?”
Having just gutted those quail, I see more than I might want to and feel a little queasy. “I see.”
“Then tonight we start to teach you skill with blades.”
“In case we’re separated,” I say bitterly. “Are you thinking about when I’m alone, too?”
Her face hardens. “Not a chance. I’ll defend you with the last breath in my dying body and beyond, Soli of the Amulet. Do not forget it. My lands are dying, and my people have no chance without you.”
Before I can reassure her that I didn’t think she’d leave me, Andras stalks over to the fire.
“Listen up. I’ll tell you the story of the Bane.”
Kaelen and Elianna approach at his call, taking seats around the fire like children gathering for a pantomime at Harvest Fest. Only there’s nothing festive about this tale; Andras’s body is limned in tension, his face a mask of worry.
