"We're alone," Tibbs said. Not a question.
"For now." Mab crossed to the bed and sat on the edge. The mattress dipped under her weight instead of pressing back like the thin straw pallet she'd slept on since she was a girl. "There's a garderobe through that door. Warm water for washing."
Tibbs didn't move. "What happens now?"
"I don't know yet."
"But you talked to him. Last night. I heard voices."
Of course he had. Tibbs had survived this long by staying alert, by listening, by keeping his eyes open when everyone assumed he was asleep. Mab had done the same thing at his age.
"I talked to him," Mab said. "His name is Varek. He's the one in charge of the raiding party."
"And?" Tibbs's jaw was tight. "What did he say?"
Mab smoothed her hands over her apron, buying time. How did she explain any of it? The pull he'd described, the weight in his voice when he saidmine. The choice he'd offered her—north with him or south alone.
"He said the raid was justice for something Lord Cresswick did. An attack on an orc settlement."
Tibbs was quiet for a moment. "I heard the stable master talking once. About border raids. He said the lord was getting coin from somewhere for—" He stopped, glancing at Annie, but before either of them could continue, the door to the room opened.
Varek filled the doorway the same way he had last night. Armor cleaned, hair rebraided, a fresh slash of red across his knuckles that said he'd been working already this morning.
His eyes found Mab first. Held there for a beat longer than necessary. Then moved to the children on the bed.
"Good. You're awake." He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "The servants are being released within the hour. Food, water, directions south. Anyone who wants to walk can walk."
Tibbs stiffened. Annie's hand found Mab's sleeve and gripped.
"You have a choice." Varek crossed to the hearth, not looking at any of them, and stirred the fire with an iron poker. "Stay with me. Travel north to Northwatch. Or leave with the others and take your chances on the road."
"Just like that?" Mab's voice came out sharper than she intended. "You're giving children a choice about where to spend the rest of their lives and you want an answer within the hour?"
Varek set the poker back against the hearth and turned to face her. "Would you prefer I make the choice for them?"
"I'd prefer you give us time to think."
"You have time." He leaned against the mantle, arms crossing over his chest. "The servants leave within the hour. You don't have to leave with them. You can decide today, tomorrow, the day after. We ride north in three days."
Mab's grip on Annie's hand tightened. Three days. Three days to decide whether to walk into the unknown with an orc warlord or take two children onto roads she'd never traveled, toward villages that had no reason to take them in.
"And if we stay," Mab said slowly, "what does that look like? For them."
"They eat. They sleep. They travel with the warband."
"That's not what I'm asking." Mab stood, putting herself between Varek and the bed. Her heart was hammering, but she made herself hold his gaze. "I want to know what their lives look like. Not just tomorrow. Not just the journey. After."
Varek's head tilted slightly as he listened.
"Tibbs is thirteen," Mab continued. "In two years, three, he'll be a man. What happens to him then? Does he haul water for your kitchens until he's old? Does he get a trade? An education?"
"He gets whatever he earns." Varek's voice was even. "Orc children train from twelve. If he wants to learn a trade, he learns. If he wants to train with weapons, he trains. No one in the Iron Wilds is kept small because of where they started."
"And Annie?"
"The same."
Mab shook her head. "That's not enough."
