The room was quiet as they all considered Sall’s words.
Narre’s mother Jilla broke the silence. “Of course you haven’t. We’re all at risk as long as the Grays exist. That was made abundantly clear to us six weeks ago. We would do anything to keep you from danger, but . . .” She shrugged and gave a frustrated laugh that contained no humor.
“But we can’t,” Tavi’s father said. “We can’t protect you, not completely. Not even if you stay in Oren. But Sava knows we want to.”
Tavi didn’t like the direction this was going. “Sall, what’s your point?” she asked.
Sall turned his attention to her. “We aren’t safe, regardless of our location. And if we want that to change, someone has to stop the Grays.”
“And that’s our job?” Tavi’s voice sounded shrill to her own ears.
“Of course it’s not your job,” Jevva said. His voice was gentle, a tone he’d adopted more often since Tavi’s return from Savala.
Relief flooded Tavi, and she turned to her father. “So you’re not letting us go, right?”
Jevva’s eyes flickered away from Tavi. He, Mey, and Narre’s parents exchanged a long look.
Mey finally spoke. “We . . . we aren’t saying you can’t go,” she said. Tavi’s mouth must have dropped open, because Mey continued in a hurry, “But we aren’t saying you can, either. We’ve talked about this for weeks, and we still don’t know.”
Tavi huffed. She knew her mother well enough to realize what that answer meant. If pressed, her parents would say yes. And if that happened, they could convince Narre’s parents. For once, she wanted them to stifle her independence, and they were refusing! Tavi turned to Ellea. “So what are you saying? You want us to travel there and live on the streets?”
“Pardon me, I didn’t explain very well. I’m not asking you to go there at all.” Ellea held up the letter. “But if you do, Pala has offered to host you in the midwife house. It may be a bit crowded, but it’s the safest option we can think of. She’ll arrange for you to continue your schooling and your magical training.”
Sall said, “That’s very generous of Pala. However, Tavi was correct when she said Reba can’t safely go to Savala. The Grays may have eyes all over town. If they find her, they won’t welcome her back into their fold. And she could lead them to us.”
“She can’t stay here, either,” Ellea said. “Oren is much smaller than Savala; if they come here, they will find her. However, my cousin works at a healing house near Pala’s midwife house. She’s been asking if I know anyone who could apprentice there. Reba is young, but she read countless books during her time with the Grays, and I’m quite confident she’s ready to pass her end-of school tests.”
Tavi’s mouth dropped open as Ellea spoke. Reba had been reading books? So many that she might finish school over two years early? She must have been truly miserable there, to have started reading. It was a hobby she’d never before enjoyed.
Ellea was still talking, describing safety precautions they’d take with Reba at the healing house. “She’ll be required to stay inside the healing house to reduce the likelihood of her running into one of the Grays. And while Reba won’t see the rest of you often, you will stay in close communication with her. She wants to assist you with what she knows about the Grays.”
Tavi hated this, all of it. She couldn’t stand the thought of being in the same city as Reba, much less traveling with her. She still would have liked to see Reba paraded along the streets in shackles and thrown into prison, but she’d clearly lost that fight. Once we’re in Savala, I’ll insist that Reba and I have as little contact as possible.
The rest of the group discussed details, but Tavi wasn’t listening. The phrase that had just run through her head returned, and she chewed on it. Once we’re in Savala. Mey was right—Tavi was thinking about the trip to Savala as a certainty. Why did she now feel drawn there after being determined not to go?
Her monster-inhabited dream from half an hour earlier invaded Tavi’s mind again, and she gave a quiet gasp as she realized it was the source of her changing perspective. The nightmarish images had been imaginary, but they had reminded her of the very real threat posed by the Grays. Until she faced her enemies, they’d continue to torment her dreams. And reality might become more terrifying than her dreams if the Grays met their goal of ruling Cormina.
Tavi knew what she had to do. She wondered if she’d known it ever since Narre had first suggested they go to Savala. Her gaze wandered to her mother, and Tavi welcomed the tears that invaded her eyes. She took a deep breath and invited the terrible nightmare to fill her mind again. She hated those images, but there was truth in them, and she couldn’t allow herself to forget them.
“They’re monsters,” Tavi said. It had come out louder than she’d meant it to. Conversations halted, and everyone turned to her. “The Grays,” she said, “they’re monsters. I don’t know if we can stop them. But we have to try. Monsters can’t be left alone.”
Chapter Fifteen
When the time came for me to travel to Tinawe, a farmer and his wife let me ride with them in exchange for keeping their chicken cages clean. I rode in the back of their wagon, surrounded by poultry. I tried sitting on a cage as we traveled, but the chicken inside pecked my hind end so hard that I leapt across the wagon, upending several cages. I’d never known chickens to have facial expressions, but I swear that hen looked at me smugly for the rest of the trip.
-From Midwife Memoirs by Ellea Kariana
Tavi woke and looked out the window. The sun would not rise for hours. She turned over with a loud groan, earning her a “Shh!” from Ista.
That elicited an even louder groan from Tavi. She knew she was being petty, but she also knew what was coming. At least five nights out of seven, she woke like this, and she never got back to sleep. Not real sleep, anyway. She dozed for a few minutes at a time, but her mind was too active to allow true rest.
During these early morning hours, when her only company was a shushing sister and the dispassionate starlight, Tavi’s thoughts raced with grief and fear. At these times, her memories felt like they had true substance, and her cruel creativity taunted her.
In the cool, late-summer darkness, Tavi lay still, and images from Misty’s death filled her mind. She had not seen the moment her sister’s throat was cut. And yet she had watched it happen dozens of times since, the scene presented in vivid detail by her persistent imagination.
The monstrous Grays, the long knife, the red blood. Her magic, stymied by resistance. Tullen’s arms, like a vice, holding her back.
“No, stop that.” Tavi spoke quietly to avoid waking Ista. She had taken to giving herself such commands, with inconsistent results. This time it worked. The memory dissolved into the night. She reached under her pillow and pulled out the leather journal Misty had given her. It was still blank inside, and Tavi didn’t know if she’d ever write in it. She held it to her chest, attempting to draw peace from its soft warmth.
But her thoughts were far from calm. They shifted forward in time, to the upcoming trip. A scene assaulted her.
A brutish man with gray, glowing hands slammed Narre onto a cobblestone street. Two more men held Tavi back, their rough hands scratching her arms, the odor of their sweat filling her nostrils. Narre’s desperate eyes sought Tavi, and in that gaze, Tavi saw an accusation: “Tavi, these men were looking for you, and now they’re hurting me.”
Before she could picture what the man planned to do to Narre, Tavi spoke to herself again. “Stop that! Stop it!”
Another scene invaded her mind, a fresh opportunity for her anxieties to introduce themselves through familiar names and faces.
Tavi rode on Tullen’s back, her hands holding him with a desperate grip. His gifted feet ran faster than ever through Savala’s streets. But there were Grays everywhere, approaching from the left and the right, from ahead and behind, and Tullen’s speed didn’t matter, for there was nowhere to run. “Catch her, and kill him!” one of the men commanded.
/> Just before the imaginary Tullen and Tavi were tackled, the real Tavi sat up in bed, not even trying to keep her voice quiet. “What was I thinking?” she asked.
“Shh!” Ista said again. “Go back to sleep!” Tavi heard her sister flop over in bed. She was probably also covering her head with a pillow.
The whole family had stayed up late talking about the Golds’ decision to go to Savala. Just as Tavi had predicted, her parents had consented to the trip. The day’s events and conversations had exhausted them all, and Ista had begged Tavi to stay quiet through the night.
But Tavi didn’t care. The question she had asked was far more important, and she asked it again. “What was I thinking, agreeing to go to Savala?”
When Narre first asked her to go, Tavi had known she couldn’t risk it, not if she wanted her friends to stay safe. They were in danger when she was near them, and that danger would increase the closer they were to the Grays. But then Reba had arrived, and Tavi had realized that if the Grays weren’t stopped, they would continue to torment her thoughts and dreams, while moving closer to their frightening goals.
That was true. But Tavi’s original concern, that her friends weren’t safe as long as she was around, was valid too, and she begged her mind to form a solution. She could refuse to go to Savala, but Narre, in her stubborn loyalty, wouldn’t go without Tavi. Sall wouldn’t go without Narre. And Tullen would likely stay home too. If she stayed, Tavi would be keeping the others in Oren too, and the Grays would multiply their numbers and their power.
They had to go. But Tavi couldn’t put her friends in danger. Until her magic came back, she wouldn’t be much use anyway. Her friends could fight, and she could do . . . something. Fold linens in the midwife house, maybe. Which sounded dreadful.
And when her magic returned? Well, if anything good had come from Tavi’s time as a captive of the Grays, it was the truth she’d learned about herself when she’d escaped. I’m strong. I’m powerful. I’m enough. And I don’t need anyone to save or protect me.
They had four days to prepare for their trip. Every day, Tavi expected to hear that the Grays had come to town and recaptured Reba. But it didn’t happen. Maybe they wouldn’t risk encountering safety officers after what they’d done to Misty.
Tavi had been instructed to pack lightly. She had asked about their mode of transportation, but her parents and Ellea had assured her that others were handling the details. Their reticence made Tavi suspicious, but she was too focused on packing and spending time with her family to think much about it.
The day of their departure arrived. Ista rose early to help make breakfast. Tavi was awake before dawn but stayed in her warm bed.
Shortly after sunrise, she heard a knock. “May I come in?” It was her father.
Tavi sat up. “Sure.”
He entered and sat on the edge of Tavi’s bed. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I can be.”
“Are you frightened?”
Tavi looked up, catching her father’s eye. He gave her a small smile. “A little,” she admitted.
Jevva placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sava bless you.”
“I don’t even know if he’s real.” As soon as the words were out, Tavi regretted them. She kept her gaze on her hands.
Then Jevva spoke, his voice quiet and raw. “Neither do I.”
Tavi raised her eyes to her father, the Savani shepherd everyone in Oren looked up to. People depended on him to be strong, unwavering in his faith. But at that moment his eyes were shining, and he wiped them. “I’m sorry; that’s not what you need to hear,” he said.
She shook her head. “I’m glad you said it.” They were both silent for a long minute. Tavi said, “You’re not sure . . . since Misty?”
Jevva nodded. “I still believe. But not with certainty. I don’t know if I’ll ever be certain again.”
His eyes were still wet. Seeing that, Tavi couldn’t hold back her own tears anymore. In a choked voice, she said, “Thank you for saying it.”
Jevva nodded. Then he gave her a quick, awkward hug and a kiss on her forehead. He stood and walked to the door, then turned around. “Please be careful.”
“I will.”
Every member of Tavi’s household, including Sall and his brothers, sat down to a breakfast feast of eggs, fried squash, fresh applesauce, bacon, and rolls.
“You’ve outdone yourselves,” Tavi told her mother and Ista.
After Jevva blessed the food, there was a knock on the front door. Tavi’s brother Seph rose to answer it, returning with a tall, thin woman who bore a hesitant smile.
“Mother!” Sall and his youngest brother Berroll said in unison. They both stood and approached her. Lorn, the middle brother, stayed in his seat.
“They told me you were leaving, Sall,” she said. Her gaze jumped around the room, and she was clearly uncomfortable with all the eyes on her.
Mey stood, gesturing to her own seat. “Please sit down, Hilda. I’m glad you’re here.” When Sall’s mother protested that she didn’t need to sit, Mey said, “I insist. I’ll get another chair. We have plenty of food.”
Once Hilda and her sons sat, conversation resumed. Tavi glanced at Sall, wondering how he felt about his mother’s sudden appearance. Since the previous autumn, she had been under the care of local healers due to years of despondence that had left her bedridden. Her treatment had been full of difficulties, but a few months earlier she had at last agreed to live at the healing house, receiving sustained care.
Tavi’s eyes shifted to Sall again, just in time to see his head glowing golden for barely more than a moment. He was watching his mother, and when he released his magic, his face and shoulders relaxed. With his gifted mind, he must have sensed some measure of peace in his mother. Tavi caught his eye and smiled.
After breakfast, Tavi packed her last few items. Soon Narre and her father arrived in their carriage. He took Tavi’s and Sall’s bags, then drove the carriage while the Golds and their families walked into town.
They headed for Oren’s office of safety. Les Andisis would be leaving the town in his assistant’s care while he escorted the team to Savala. When the office of safety was in sight, Tavi squinted. In front of the building was what appeared to be a large wagon. It must be the vehicle they’d be using, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen a wagon that large in Oren. They neared it, and Tavi gave it a closer look. Is that—? No, surely not. Yes, yes it is. That was a window on the wagon. A barred window.
Sall was the first to say something. “Why is there a prisoner transport wagon here?”
Tavi’s and Narre’s parents exchanged glances, and Tavi thought Narre’s mother was concealing a smirk. At last, Narre’s father Shem said, “Well, it’s large.”
“And safe,” Jevva added.
“You must be kidding,” Narre said.
Tavi turned to her mother. “Is this why you wouldn’t answer any questions about how we were getting to Savala?”
Mey shrugged and gave Tavi a guilty smile. “We’ve done some redecorating inside to make it more comfortable.”
Tavi shook her head, trying to decide whether to laugh or be offended.
They reached the office of safety and entered the front door. Ellea was in the lobby, along with Reba and her father. Next to them were Tullen and Jenevy. Tavi’s stomach twisted when she saw Tullen. And then she noticed what was in Jenevy’s hand: a bag that looked suspiciously like luggage.
Tavi took a moment to let that sight sink in before asking, “Who all is going?”
Ellea answered, “Officer Andisis will escort all six of you.” She gestured to each of them in turn, starting with Tavi. “You, Narre, Sall, Reba, Tullen, and Jenevy.” She gave Jenevy a warm smile then explained to Tavi, “I’ve wanted to bring on Jenevy as an apprentice here, but we won’t have an opening for months. In one of Pala’s recent letters, she told me her midwife house needs apprentices. I’ve already written to let her know Jenevy is coming, along with the rest of you.”
/>
In trying to look anywhere but where Jenevy stood, Tavi realized everyone was watching her. “Sounds like it’ll be cozy,” she mumbled.
They all went outside, and the travelers looked in the wagon. It wasn’t constructed for comfort, but thin mattresses had been laid along the bottom of it, and the benches on the sides were covered with bright, cheerful cushions. A few pillows and blankets sat in a pile in the corner.
Tavi lifted the hinged tops of the benches. One was full of supplies and travel-friendly foods. The other was empty until Officer Andisis placed four of the seven bags in it. He tucked the other three into the wagon’s corners.
They said their goodbyes. Tavi had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, and she was doing well until she saw Sall hugging his mother tightly. She knew how much it meant to her friend to have his mother there to see him off, and she couldn’t hold back the tears.
Tavi’s mother approached for one more hug. “Be safe,” Mey said.
They held each other until Tavi successfully suppressed the sob that wanted to escape. She pulled away, wiping her eyes. “I’ll do whatever I can to keep all of us safe.”
The travelers all climbed in the wagon except Officer Andisis, who would be driving. Their families and Ellea stood at the wagon’s doorway, giving last-minute instructions and well wishes.
Officer Andisis made his way to the door, clearing his throat. Everyone quieted. “As you’ve probably guessed, we chose this wagon because it’s secure,” he said. “If the Grays are looking for Reba, or if they have representatives in the towns along the way, we want you to be safe. But we’ve altered the lock so it functions from the inside instead of the outside. Who would like to hold the key?”
They looked around at each other, and Sall shrugged and held out his hand. Officer Andisis gave him the key, and Sall put it in his pocket.
Minutes later, the door was shut and locked, and the wagon began its journey. Tavi looked around at her fellow travelers. She had chosen a seat between Sall and Narre, reasoning that she felt the most comfortable with them. But that meant she had to stare across the wagon at the other seat’s residents: Tullen, whom she couldn’t look at without a confusing pang in her heart. Jenevy, whom she disliked for reasons that weren’t explainable or rational. And Reba, whom . . . well, Tavi didn’t even want to think about Reba.
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