“She’s just my niece,” Havtru said, trying out the lie.
Cajara glanced up, met Arin’s eyes, then looked down again.Her eyes are more lilac than gray,Arin thought. “It’s close to true,” Cajara said. “Champion Havtru feels like my only family.” Her voice was so light that her words were nearly lost in the night breeze.
Champion Havtru patted her shoulder. “Just call me Uncle Havtru.”
“Congrats on your new family,” Arin said to her.
She offered a quick, shy smile, so fast that Arin almost didn’t see it in the flicker of campfire light.
Arin wanted to ask her more, not about her family—that wasn’t get-to-know-you talk—but about her: what she thought about where they were and where they were going, whether she wanted to be here, whether she felt like she had to. Before she could frame any questions into words, Cajara shot to her feet.
“What is it?” Champion Havtru was on his feet only a second later, his bow in his hand. He reached for an arrow from his quiver. Renet stood more awkwardly and drew a dagger from his waist.
Pointing north, Cajara whispered, “The spirits at the border. Look.”
At first Arin couldn’t see anything through the birch trees. But then her eyes picked out movement: loosely shaped like humans but vastly larger, the Semoian spirits were drawing together along the border, side by side.
“What are they doing?” Arin whispered.
From what she could tell, the giant spirits weren’t doing anything but standing in a row.Are they going to attack?But they weren’t facing Aratay. They were looking northward.
“Waiting,” Cajara said softly.
“For what?” Arin asked.
Cajara was silent for a moment, with that faraway look that Arin’s sister always got when she was speaking with the spirits. “For something wonderful to happen,” she said. “Or something terrible.”
They waited too.
The spirits didn’t budge.
Night darkened around them, and the fire dwindled. Renet gave up on the vigil and tended to the fire. Champion Havtru kept his bow in his hand but didn’t notch an arrow. Cajara didn’t move.
While they watched the border, Arin watched her. She couldn’t put her finger on why the other girl was so fascinating. It wasn’t as if she’d talked much. But there was something both strong and vulnerable about her at the same time. It made Arin want to get to know her better.
Why am I thinking about her when I should be worrying about the spirits?
Then Cajara gasped and staggered back. Champion Havtru reached out and caught one arm, stopping her before she fell into the fire. Arin automatically braced her on her other side. She didn’t let go, even when Cajara steadied herself. “Are you all right?” Arin asked.
“I... don’t know. Yes.”
“What happened?” Champion Havtru asked.
“Something. Everything. I don’t know.”
She wouldn’t—or couldn’t—explain more. A few times she started to try to put whatever she’d felt into words, and then she’d stop, fall silent, and shake her head.
Eventually, the stone giants on the border shuffled away, and the four travelers climbed into their bedrolls and stole bits of sleep until dawn crept across them. Arin dreamed of stone crushing her and of the earth gaping open beneath her feet.
When Arin opened her eyes, it took her a minute to remember where she was, who she was with, and why she was here. And it took another minute to process the fact that there was a feathered air spirit perched on Cajara’s wrist.
Fully awake now, Arin bit back a shriek.
“It’s delivering a message,” Cajara said quietly. She seemed amused at Arin’s alarm, though it was hard to read her expression. She might have been merely happy that the sky was blue.
Cajara nodded at Champion Havtru, who was reading a parchment that must have been rolled around the spirit’s leg—it still had a curl to the paper from being rolled up. Going back to looking at the spirit, she stroked the feathers on its neck.
Arin watched her for a moment. “So you’re just a family friend—excuse me,niece—with affinities for only a few spirits?”
