I could see this conversation was over for her, and therefore, for me, too. I looked down at her as I rose. “You’re right. This is not your problem, but I can tell you that if the situation was reversed; if the villagers learned that you were facing an adversary you were likely to lose against,theywould assistyou.”
Her brow creasing was the only indication that my words affected her. But an instant later, she nodded to the warriors in a signal to take me out of there. They collected me and walked me back through the passage and out into the cold.
The cave mouth was behind me. The wind still burned through my armor. The shuttle was untouched where I’d left it.
Well, it was worth a try, I thought, as I walked back to the shuttle. But I’d meant what I’d said. There was no doubt in my mind that Maive would have helped these people if they needed it. It was one of the reasons why I’d fallen for the lot of them. I’d have to find another way to protect the most vulnerable. I just wished I had more time.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Pair bad news with food
The village wasdark by the time I got to Maive’s house.
I’d flown back in silence, three hours of cold and cloud cover and the armor doing nothing for warmth once the exertion of the day was behind me. Below the harbor wall, the lanterns burned. The path through the village was empty, my boots were loud on the packed stone.
I did not go home.
She needed to hear what I’d learned, now, while the memories were fresh. Light came from the upper floors. She was still up.
I knocked.
Footsteps from upstairs. Then she opened the door.
Maive had her hair down and wore a long robe of deep green, tied at the waist. She looked at me with a quick, thorough sweep. Eyes to boots. Back up. She took in the armor, the dried mountain grit on the knees and forearms, and the general state of me, and her expression pinched.
“You look terrible,” she said.
“I’ve had better days,” I agreed.
She stepped back and held the door wide. “Come on up,” she said. “I’ll get you some towels so you can dry off and get warm.”
I tromped up the stairs behind her. The treads were worn and slightly uneven underfoot, the railing smooth and dark from long use. The staircase opened up and I stopped in the doorway, taking in her private space with interest. On the second floor, the rooms were divided up into smaller ones, but the central one looked like a sitting room. It smelled of dried herbs and the sea breeze. Beside a lamp on a shelf sat her boots, a shallow basket of mending, and a clay pot holding a green, vining plant. The walls were the same pale stone as the rest of the building, but hung with woven panels in greens and browns, fine work with a repeating pattern of leaves.
The room was warm. A small metal stove in the corner ticked with settled heat. Despite how hot the days could be, the nights were cold. The rug underfoot was thick, deep red, and with a pattern of interlocked diamonds worn soft in the center where feet had crossed it for years. Near the window, two chairs angled toward each other with a small table between them. A book sat open on the table, face down, and beside it a cup that still had steam rising off it. Along the far wall, a low cabinet ran the full length of the space, holding more books, a carved wooden figure, a row of small bottles in different shades, and a shallow dish of smooth stones. It was perfectly cozy and comfortable without being fussy. So perfectlyher.
Through an open doorway, I could see the bed. High wooden headboard, layers of blankets folded at the foot, a deep red quilted cover on top. Three pillows.
She moved to the stove and opened the top to check it, then added a small piece of wood from the stack beside it. I lowered myself into one of the chairs by the window.
Maive disappeared through an interior door and came back with two towels. She held them out.
“Your hair is soaked through,” she said.
It was. I’d been above the cloud line for half the flight back and hadn’t noticed. I dragged one towel over my head and face and the back of my neck. She sat in the other chair and tucked her feet up beneath her, both hands wrapped around her cup, and waited.
“Tell me,” she said.
I told her.
I described finding the cave mouth, the guards who brought me inside a mountain full of people. I described the cavern and Anlara, who I knew she’d be interested in. White-haired, older than both of us, seated, watching me arrive with complete calm. I told her about my request.
“She said no,” I said. “Flatly. And then she said it a second time.”
Maive’s brow pulled together. “On what grounds?”
I hooked the towel around the back of my neck. “Hard to say. A five-hundred-year-old agreement that was never honored? When the original group left for the coast, they promised to send supplies back to the people who stayed in the mountains. According to Anlara, they were abandoned and the village was settled without them. They haven’t spoken with the village since.”
