“Then be brave.” Cera said it like it was simple. “That’s the secret, you know. Bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s choosing to act anyway.”
“What if I choose wrong?”
“Then you choose again. That’s what freedom means.” Cera smiled. “Now finish your tea. I have a patient to check on, and you have a very large warrior to terrify with your sudden decisiveness.”
Instead she finished her tea and went to find Tess. The other woman was sitting up in her pallet in the corner of the healer’scave, wrapped in a thick fur blanket and scowling at a bowl of porridge.
“It’s too sweet,” Tess announced. “Who puts honey in porridge? It’s wrong.”
“I’ll tell Cera you said so.”
“I already did. She laughed at me.” Tess took a defiant bite and made a face. “Still too sweet. But at least it’s hot.”
She looked better than she had a few days ago. There was color in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire, and her eyes had lost some of their haunted hollowness. Polly remembered Cera mentioning that she’d asked for a comb and started trying to tame her roughly cut hair into something that resembled a style. Small things. Tiny choices.
“Cera says you asked about clothes,” she said, settling onto the chair beside Tess’s pallet.
“The ones she gave me itched. And they smelled like someone else.” Tess pulled the furs tighter around herself. “I know that’s stupid. They’re just clothes.”
“It’s not stupid.”
“I didn’t have clothes of my own. Before. For… a long time. I had whatever they gave me. Whatever they wanted me to wear.” Her jaw tightened. “I want things that are mine. Even if they’re ugly or too warm or the wrong color. I want to pick them myself.”
“I understand.” And she did. She understood all the way down to her bones. She’d made her choice by refusing to wear anything they gave her. “I’ll introduce you to someone who sews.”
Tess looked at her sharply. “Really? The Hothians don’t seem to wear anything other than leather belts and jewelry.”
“Really. She helped me make my first dress here. It took three weeks and I changed my mind about the color six times and she never once got impatient with me.”
“I’d like that,” Tess said softly.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. The fire crackled, and somewhere outside the cave, she could hear Cera’s voice, giving instructions to one of her assistants.
“Baralt sent word,” Tess said eventually. “About the ship I was on.”
Her heart clenched. “What did he find?”
“He thinks the symbol I saw indicates that the ship was part of a larger trafficking organization, but he hasn’t tracked it down. He’s reached out to some people who track that kind of illegal stuff. He says he’ll keep looking.” Tess’s voice was carefully flat, but her hands had tightened on the blanket. “He also said that Athtar’s wife will sponsor me and help me get settled on Sherae if that’s where I want to go.”
“That’s good.”
“Is it?” Tess looked at her. “I don’t know anything about Sherae. I don’t know if I can trust this woman. I don’t know if I’ll be safe there or if I’m just trading one cage for another.”
“You’re not,” she said firmly. “Sherae doesn’t permit slavery. And Njkall says Athtar’s mate is brilliant.”
“Great. And I’m just a bartender.”
“Which probably means you can find a job anywhere.”
“Maybe,” Tess muttered.
“You don’t have to decide right away. You can stay here as long as you need to. No one’s going to force you to leave.”
“Njkall said that too.”
“Then believe it.”
Tess studied her for a long moment. “You trust him. Really trust him. I can see it.”
