by Janice Hardy
Danello’s shoulders slumped like he’d heard bad news. “You’re an aristocrat.”
It surprised me that still mattered. It used to, back when Geveg was wealthy and there had been a lot of aristocrats. You didn’t see fishermen or farmers invited onto the Terraces. Such distinctions vanished when the war came. All had gone to fight when needed, even aristocrats. They weren’t like the Baseeri nobles, who paid others to die for them.
“Not since the Duke took it all away.” I gulped my coffee and singed the back of my throat. “After the Duke arrested Grannyma, his soldiers barged into our home like it was theirs, tossed Tali and me out like trash. Didn’t even let us get our clothes, our toys, memories of our parents. Didn’t care that we had nowhere to go. Is there more coffee?”
He stared at me, mouth half open, then nodded. “Yeah, let me get it.” He poured it, got me another fish cake, and started slicing a pear. “My parents worked at the university, but they weren’t full professors or anything high-pay. My ma taught fencing and military history, my da philosophy. She was killed before the war ended. Da says it was stupid for her to fight when everyone knew we’d lose, but she did it anyway.
“They kicked us out too.” He set the plate of fruit down between us and eased into his chair.
We didn’t talk much after that. Kinda nice really, sitting with someone who understood and could just be. Halima came in and cleared the table, then made me a bed by the window. She fussed over it like any good hostess. Even asked me if I needed an extra blanket. Jovan’s brows rose a little and he glanced at his bed, so I declined.
“Good night,” the children said as they shuffled into their room. The door thumped shut behind them.
Danello stared at me, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Foolish as it was, I kept worrying about my patched knees and mismatched socks. He didn’t seem to notice, though, and he had his share of patches.
“How did you find out you were, you know, different?” he asked.
I hesitated, but he knew the truth already. “It was just before the war ended. I was ten, and my little sister and I were helping Mama and Grannyma treat the wounded at the League. Tali was running when she shouldn’t have and tripped over a sword. Sliced her calf open bad. I saw all the blood, heard her crying, and I just grabbed her leg. I wanted it to stop, you know?” I shivered. “I’m not even sure what I did, but suddenly my calf hurt and she was fine.”
“You healed her without any training at all?” Danello’s eyes widened. “At ten?”
“Yeah. Mama always figured we’d both be Takers—it runs in families—but she kept quiet about it. She was afraid they’d take us away. She was always telling me, ‘Don’t try to heal, don’t touch the Elders, don’t get too close to the trackers.’ I was so scared I’d done something wrong by healing Tali, I tried to put her pain back. And I did.”
That had scared Mama a lot worse than me healing had. I could still remember the terror on her face when Tali ran up, pointing to her calf that didn’t have a scratch on it and crying that it hurt funny. Mama had grabbed me by the shoulders and told me to never, ever do it again. Then she hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe, made me swear to Saint Saea I wouldn’t tell anyone what I could do.
Until tonight, I never had. Only Tali had known.
“Was she—”
“I’m really tired,” I said. I was done talking. It wouldn’t change anything, and why haul regrets back into the light.
“Oh, sorry. I guess I should let you sleep then.”
I fluffed my pillow and fought not to look at him again. It was a lot harder than I’d expected. “Night, Danello.”
“Good night, Nya.”
Another door thumped closed. His da’s room. I settled into the makeshift bed’s softness, my mind too full of guilt and relief to sleep, enjoying the lingering smell and warmth from the stove and the quiet murmurs of overexcited boys trying hard not to sleep, even though sleep would ease their pain. A quick, not-so-quiet order from Halima shut them both up. Despite my melancholy, I grinned. She was taking to her new role well. I’d forgotten how nice family felt.
Unable to sleep, I sat up and leaned my head against the window. Moonlight washed the market corner in muted silver. Dark shadows cut across the stone in patterns, darker where the pair I’d seen earlier under the bushes slept. It was a good spot, protected from the coastal breezes and usually dry.
A bouncing glow caught my eye—the gentle sway of the night patrol’s lantern. The soldiers stopped next to the bushes, kicked the sleeping pair, and scared them off. The patrol didn’t chase after them like most did, just continued on their way, passing a man who didn’t seem concerned to be out alone at night.
The lantern rocked and a shaft of light spilled across the man’s face.
Saints and sinners! My fancy man was back again. I pulled the blanket tighter around me and slumped, even though he couldn’t possibly see inside the dark room. What did that sneaky reed rat want? He’d had plenty of opportunities to grab me after the ferry accident, while I was wandering and not paying attention. Danello had certainly been able to do it.
I glanced at the children’s room. The twins! What if he came after me tonight and sensed them? After everything Danello had done for me, I couldn’t risk putting his family in danger, but if I left now, the fancy man was sure to spot me. I hunkered down, fingertips hanging on the windowsill with my eyes peering over.
Shadows flickered, and another man stepped into the silver light. He spoke with the fancy man, who gestured up and down the street with one hand. Heads shook, fingers pointed as if they weren’t sure where I’d gone and were arguing over which direction to look next. The new man nodded and leaned against the wall, watching the street with his arms folded across his chest. The first fancy man walked away and vanished into the dark.
Now there were two of them! I shivered in the dark room that didn’t feel nearly dark enough to hide in. I glanced at the door, soothed by the heavy bar across the middle. Good and locked. I was safe for now, and they couldn’t know about the twins. Who had sent them after me, the League or the Duke? I slid down and pulled the blanket over my head.
It didn’t matter. Trackers were trackers, and I was prey.
I woke feeling like someone had shrunk every muscle in my body while I’d slept. Extending my arms hurt. Bending my knees throbbed all the way to my toes. I should have expected it. I’d hauled too many people from the water the day before to avoid it. Or maybe it was punishment for shifting pain to children. I was just as sore as if I’d slept on hard ground. Served me right. I should have told Danello no. I’d been tired and hungry before—I could have managed like I always do.
I unfolded myself, and my joints popped in the silent house, waking up hurts I’d forgotten I’d taken. I hated to admit it, but I’d probably be a lot worse off if I’d bunked under a bush. Too sore to work at all, let alone make it to Tali.
You’re just saying that so you don’t feel guilty.
I gritted my teeth and stretched. It didn’t matter. As Grannyma said, what’s done is done and I—
The too-silent room suddenly felt loud, like it was trying to tell me something. I stopped stretching and looked around, half expecting to see green and yellow silk poking out from behind the curtains, but the room was as bare as it had been last night. Except the children’s door was open. My breath caught and I darted to the room, wincing with every step.
All three beds were made. No open windows, no furniture knocked over, nothing that indicated a struggle. I sighed as the clock tower chimed nine. They were just at school. No tracker had sneaked in and kidnapped them.
Danello’s door was closed, and my knuckles itched to knock. He might be sleeping, but I pictured him sitting on the small yellow stool by his father’s bed, holding his hand, waiting for him to wake up, Danello’s sweet, gentle smile brightening the whole room.
He’d been so kind. I could still make things right with his family. I could bring Tali here and tak
e their pain away. If we split it between us, it wouldn’t be so bad. Sure, we’d have a rough walk back to the League, but we could manage it.
Elders and wards and silk-clad trackers slid into my memory. Was it even safe to go to the League? I lifted one edge of the curtains and peeked out. No sight of my fancy men, but they were probably out there, multiplying like rabbits. By sundown, I’d no doubt have four of them on my trail.
My stomach rumbled and I headed for the kitchen, my eyes alert for leftover fish cakes. It looked like Danello’s family had enough food and wouldn’t miss one or two. I’d heard the schoolroom in this neighborhood even gave students lunch. A cheesecloth lump sat in the middle of the table with a note resting on top. I smiled at the slow, deliberate print, the ends of all the letters round from letting the pen sit too long.
Nya, here is your breakfast.
I hope it tastes good.
Inside the bundle was a feast: two more fish cakes, three pears, and a banana. I ate the fish right there and slipped the fruit into my pockets for lunch and dinner. I’d save one pear for breakfast too, just in case.
A glint in the cloth caught my eye. Three copper coins stuck in the bottom, as if someone was trying to hide them from me. I glanced at the closed door. Maybe Danello expected me to take the bundle and leave, and not find them until later.
The food and bed were more than payment enough. I hadn’t done much, and I’d hurt the whole family doing it. Still…
I picked up a coin and ran my thumb over the etched lion on one side. A Geveg deni, not a Baseeri oppa. In the poorer districts, Geveg coins bought more than Baseer money, just to spite the Duke. Would it be enough to get my room back? Or any room? I’d share if I had to; sleep in shifts with someone who worked nights. I pocketed the money and added “go straight to Millie’s and see what I can get” to my list of chores.
I glanced at Danello’s door again. It was only polite to say good-bye, but my feet refused to move. He knew I was here, and if he’d wanted to see me off, he’d have been there when I woke up. My hand slipped into my pocket and rubbed the coins again. Why would he even want to see me? I was just hired help, and I’d been paid for my services. It was time to go.
My muscles fought me every step down the stairs, burning as if I’d run three times around Geveg. It was tempting to spend one of my coins on a pole boat to the League, but money didn’t come easy and the poleman probably wouldn’t take a deni anyway. Sore or not, I had good legs and feet to carry me.
I paused in the doorway, scanning every person, every bush, every hiding place in sight. No fancy men. I crept outside, staying in the crowds as much as possible. The sun filtered through a hazy sky, gray as the slate lining the League’s antechamber. Puddles of water shone like mirrors on the sidewalk. I continued checking corners and bushes, but if the fancy men were there, they were hiding well; not a flash of yellow or green anywhere. Would they approach me today or keep lurking like a pair of hungry crocs?
I paused across the bridge from the League on the west side of Grand Canal. If the fancy men were from the League, then going inside was as foolish as spending money on a pole boat. Safer to get a message to Tali and have her meet me someplace a lot easier to get into than the gardens. The birthday ruse wouldn’t work twice in a row.
A passing Baseeri jostled me, and my rib pain woke up bright and sharp. There’d be no running from Elders today.
So: risk going to the League, or hide and hope Tali came looking for me? Both ideas stank like bilge water.
Laughter from the League’s side yard caught my attention. Wards! They played in the small courtyard facing the bay, and a set of boys were knocking a ball around with sticks. Tight bunches of girls stood near the shore talking. I spotted Enzie in a group in the middle.
I waited for another good-sized swell in the crowd and merged with them, making my way toward the League behind a man with a crippled arm. A wrought iron fence surrounded the courtyard; too high for rebellious wards to climb and go wandering, but wide enough between the bars to carry on a conversation.
“Enzie!” I waved, looking out for mentors and fancy men. It took four waves to get her attention. She saw me and froze like a spooked cat. After a few nervous glances around the yard, she scurried over.
“Nya!” She kept checking the doors leading into the League, but stood between me and the building, her hands on her hips. With the puffy sleeves she made a pretty good wall to hide behind.
“Could you get Tali for me, please? I really need her.”
She looked at the doors again, a lot more fear in her eyes than normal ward-mentor wariness. “Now?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s important.”
A pause, then a quick nod. “Okay, but stay out of sight. The mentors are clingy today. Something has them arguing and hovering over us worse than mosquitoes.”
More missing apprentices? She dashed off before I could ask. I moved away from the fence, to avoid any mentors who might pop out to check on the wards. It was possible someone might spot me from any of the dozen or so windows. I hoped they didn’t look out much.
I kept an eye on the League doors and windows for a while. Too many towers to watch. Tali used to gush about the spires at each of the four corners, even drew me pictures of the intricate leaf patterns carved into the stone along the tops of the pillars. Mama had loved the dome and the way it looked like it was floating over the building. She said the tall, wide windows underneath the dome gave that illusion. Papa had liked the arches, and there were plenty of those. Arches over the windows, the doors, the hallways. Looked like the whole League was stretching up to grab the sun.
Though I tried not to, I looked at the wing where the Luminary’s office was. It had the best view of the city, overlooking the lake and the mountains along the shore. Sometimes when Mama had been too busy, I used to sit on the floor in that office, my face against the glass while Grannyma worked at her huge desk. People hadn’t been scared when she was Luminary.
“Nya!” Enzie raced toward me, and her worried expression said it wasn’t good news.
I limped back to the fence. “Did you find her?”
“No, no one’s seen her.”
The fish cakes turned to rock in my belly. “She wasn’t on rounds? Or in her room?”
“No.” Lip trembling, Enzie reached through the bars and grabbed my hand. “And I couldn’t find any of her friends either. I asked some of the round’s leaders about Tali and they said she’s fine, but they didn’t tell me where she was. And they looked nervous that I asked.”
The door banged open and several mentors dashed out. Their dark heads swiveled back and forth over the courtyard. Enzie gasped and squeezed my hand tighter.
“I don’t believe them, Nya, not anymore. She vanished, she and the others.” She glanced at the mentors again. “You’d better vanish too!”
FIVE
“Wait!” I called after Enzie, but she was already running away, hiding herself in the mass of green with the other wards. Two mentors herded them up while one cut through toward me. He wasn’t one of the old ones I could outrun. I limped for the safety of the sidewalk crowd, weaving between fat refugees and skinny day workers. I tripped over a waddling two-year-old and nearly splatted on my face.
“Watch it, ’Veg!” the mother snapped.
“Sorry!” What had I done? The fancy men were supposed to be after me, not Tali. How could they have snatched her from the League? The League had real guards with solid Baseeri steel weapons to protect it. Folks couldn’t just vanish!
Vada’s gone…. The fourth apprentice to vanish this week….
I stumbled again, but caught myself on a farmer with a basket of bananas under one arm. He glared and shook me off.
Apprentices were disappearing from the League. Tali made five. For the love of Saint Saea, how could five apprentices go missing in one week and no one notice? Breath caught in my throat, and I ducked behind a pillar past the edge of the League’s fence, out of sight from a pair of
soldiers. Maybe the Elders had noticed and couldn’t do anything about it. The Duke could keep them quiet if he wanted to. Was he stealing Geveg’s apprentices and sending them to Verlatta?
Oh, Tali!
I risked a look back. The mentor was shooing the last of the wards inside the League.
My chest tightened and I understood how a reed rat felt, squeezed in a python’s coils. All my skin flashed hot, then cold. It was my fault. I’d led the fancy man right to Tali. He must have followed her back from the gardens, snatched her before she got to the League. He was even at the League yesterday morning! Probably picking his targets, finding apprentices who would be easy to kidnap.
“Where are you?” I muttered, staggering away from the fence. He had to be close—he’d been close since yesterday, watching me.
I stood in the middle of the bridge between the League and the basic-goods shops, turning a slow circle and scanning the edges of bushes and buildings. So what if the soldiers saw me? They weren’t the ones kidnapping Takers—those fancy men were, and when I got my hands on one, I’d make him tell me where Tali was or else—and I had enough pain left to make that “or else” something to reckon with.
No yellow or green silk flashed in the bushes.
Or at the corner of any building.
Or anywhere that I could see. I climbed onto the wall of a bridge. Gray water rushed under me, while folks with nervous stares hurried past me. One of the soldiers glanced my way, nudged his partner, and pointed. My muscles gave out, and I sagged to the damp stone road. Thankfully, the soldier looked away.
“Oh, Tali.” I had to find her, and my best chance to do that was to find a fancy man. It all made too much sense to be a coincidence. He had to be a tracker.
Aylin! Maybe she’d seen him again. All the Baseeri went to the show house. They were the only ones left who could afford it.
I jumped down. My thigh flared hot, shooting needles down to my toes and up into my belly. I paused, letting the pain subside, then limped my way to the show house.