There was movement behind her. Someone stood. Dess—when had he gotten here?
“I will go with Thia,” he said.
“Dessfar,” Sorscha gasped.
“I’ll go,” he repeated.
Pagdan was quiet for a long time, and Thia sensed he wanted to protest. But then he said, “Very well,” and gave a solemn nod. “We thank you for your bravery, lad.” His mouth flattened. “Thran will go as well.”
Beside him, there was a cry as a man sank to his knees, pleading. It was only when he fell forward that Thia realized his hands were bound. “You can’t. Pagdan,please.” He didn’t have an accent exactly, but his tone was lilting even while begging, almost like he was singing the words.
Pagdan’s face was impassive. “You know our law,” he said, then his expression softened. “Perhaps this way you may recover some of your honor and return home to us again.”
The man continued to plead, though it was quiet enough that Thia couldn’t decipher it.
Pagdan turned back to the crowd. “If I have Haven’s approval in this matter,” he said, “then the three will set off at first light. We will arm them, clothe them, and provide provisions for their journey. Are we in agreement?” He looked around the fire, holding as many gazes as he could. When no one objected, he nodded. “Then it is done. As you were.” He gave one more nod and sat, indicating the meeting was dismissed.
It took a minute, but slowly the conversation crept back to life. Eyes bore into Thia, some with curiosity, some with pity, and she struggled not to squirm in her seat. The worst was Sorscha, whose face was unreadable when it had previously only been kind.
“I’m going to speak with Pagdan about your provisions,” she said, and stood before Thia could respond.
The minute she was gone, Dess plunked into the vacated space.
“She’s upset,” Thia said, jutting her chin after Sorscha.
“She doesn’t want me to go,” he said. “I told her this afternoon of my intention, and she tried to make me promise I wouldn’t.”
“She loves you,” Thia said.
Color crept onto Dess’s cheeks. “I know.” His voice hardened. “But she isn’t my mother.Hetook my real mother from me. Or at least…I think he did.” He pulled a face. “Perhaps I’ll ask.”
“If he can send me home, perhaps he can give you your memories back.”
“I doubt he’ll do either.”
Then why volunteer?Thia studied him, noting the fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger attached to his belt, knuckles white, his lips a thin line. “Are you going to kill him?”
He glanced at her sharply. “No. Maybe. I—don’t know.”
For all his bravado, he seemed a bit lost. And she wasn’t convinced helping her get home was going to give him what he was looking for. “Well,” she said, tipping her head thoughtfully, “if you’re going to kill him, at least wait until he’s helped us.”
This brought a startled laugh from him. “I like you,” he said. “Perhaps our adventure shall be more fun than danger.” He frowned. “Then again, we’ll have Thran along.”
Thia’s smile fell, thinking of the bound man’s cries. “Who is he?”
“A coward.” Thia was surprised at the anger in his tone. “Our hunting party was ambushed not one week ago by the Tyrant’s soldiers. Thran was meant to scout ahead to prevent that from happening. But he fled when he realized they were coming. The rest were slaughtered.”
Thia grimaced. “How many?”
“Thirteen,” Dess said softly.
They were silent for a moment. “Why send him with us?” Thia wondered.
“The punishment for desertion is banishment,” Dess explained. “If we cannot trust each other, we have nothing. If you ask me, Pagdan is being too lenient, giving him the chance at redemption.”
Thia eyed him. “Do you think he’ll take it?”
Dess shrugged. “Doubtful. But it will be no great loss to us either way.”
