Tavi would certainly like that. She hadn’t said so to him, at least not with words. But he could tell that was what she thought. It was in the way she situated herself so she was never lying next to him as they slept in the cramped wagon, the way she smiled at others but never at him, the way she shrank back if he came too close to her.
Tullen returned to the area he’d cleared and added more kindling, squatting and examining all sides to ensure it was even. Not that the flames would care once they got going.
“Can I help?”
Tullen looked up and smiled at Jenevy as she approached. “Let’s look for some bigger branches and logs,” he said, standing.
They walked into the trees. Jenevy picked up a broken branch, several inches thick. “Like this?” she asked.
Tullen took it and picked up another near it, knocking them together with a dull thud. “These are too fresh,” he said. He picked up two more, and when he swung them together, a hollow whack rang out. “That’s perfect, hear that? It’s got air pockets inside because it’s nice and dried out.”
She smiled. “You’re becoming an expert at this.” They continued to walk, picking up logs and knocking them together to test whether they were dry. When they had enough, they walked back to their campsite.
Officer Andisis had proven himself to be a capable outdoorsman, and he was happy to teach his skills to anyone who wanted to learn. Tullen had helped make their fire every night.
They’d started their trip on the first day of autumn, but the weather was mild, and they didn’t need more shelter than the wagon. They purchased supplies in the towns they passed through, but they kept a low profile by staying in unpopulated areas at night, pulling the wagon off the road and roughing it. Two of them slept on the benches, and the other five stayed on the floor. It was crowded, but they all appreciated the warmth given off by seven bodies in such a small space.
Tullen would have enjoyed the nightly campfires more if he hadn’t been so aware of Tavi sitting on the other side of the flames. Each night, he examined her through the warm, smoky haze. She always looked tired, and when he occasionally caught her gaze, she pulled it away.
“Can we light it now?” Jenevy asked.
Tullen turned toward her voice. While he’d stood pondering life and staring into the trees, Jenevy had set up the logs. It looked just as good as when Officer Andisis did it. Tullen raised his eyebrows in appreciation. “Who’s the expert now?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, metal matchbox Officer Andisis had loaned him. “Want to light it?”
Jenevy snatched the box and beamed. Tullen raised an eyebrow. “Should your enthusiasm worry me, Jen?”
She laughed. “I’ve always liked matches.” She knelt by the fire and struck the match. Reaching her hand through the outer rings of logs and kindling, she dropped the match into the dry tinder Tullen had prepared. It lit immediately, and Tullen knelt next to her. They both blew on the fire, and it responded, growing larger and spreading to a few sticks of kindling.
Tullen heard voices. He stood and saw Tavi and Narre approaching. He nodded to them both, wondering what Tavi thought of seeing him and Jenevy together, then wishing her opinion didn’t matter to him.
Tullen was bewildered by Tavi’s reaction to Jenevy. Tavi was the one who’d ended things with him, and he didn’t think he and Jenevy had ever appeared to be more than good friends. But Tavi still seemed to avoid Jenevy. Tullen could tell this hurt Jenevy; she usually made friends easily. She’d even asked Tullen about it a couple of times, but he’d shrugged it off. Jenevy knew the history between him and Tavi; she could draw her own conclusions.
As the rest of the group gathered, Tullen set to work on dinner. Most of the land between Oren and Savala wasn’t heavily wooded, so when their road had finally entered a forest early that afternoon, Tullen had snatched at the opportunity to go hunting. He’d sprinted on gifted feet through the trees and returned to the group with meat from two rabbits.
Tullen dropped the meat in a cast iron pot, combining it with spices, water, and slices of root vegetables, then covered it and set it over the fire. It would be a late dinner; the meat would take hours to tenderize. Officer Andisis passed bread around to stave off their hunger, and they chatted as they ate it.
“Ahem.” When everyone looked at Officer Andisis, he said, “The sun will set soon, and we don’t have much daylight left. Who’s up for some fighting practice?”
Narre said, “We’ve practiced our fighting skills a couple of times on the road already, but we haven’t had any magical training. Shouldn’t we practice those skills too?”
Officer Andisis shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”
“Maybe we should fight,” Tullen said. “Not everyone can participate in magical training.”
“If you’re concerned about me, I don’t mind,” Jenevy said. “It’ll be fun to watch you all practice.”
Tullen looked toward Tavi, but she was standing with her back to the fire, hands behind her, warming herself. After several seconds of silence, her voice floated across the flames. “It doesn’t bother me.” Tullen wished he could see her face to determine whether that was true. He’d have to take her at her word.
“How will you practice?” Officer Andisis, who was hearing-blessed, asked. “It’s been a few years since I’ve done any magical training.”
“May I suggest a game?” Tullen leaned forward, his eyes sparkling. “It’s one we used to play in the Meadow. I told Ellea about it, but she thought it was too silly for official training classes. It’s called ‘Escape.’ ”
“I’m up for it,” Sall said. Narre echoed her assent. Reba just shrugged. But she never said much.
“It’s simple,” Tullen said. “One person will come up with a scenario we need to escape from. It can be as outlandish as you wish, and the more dangerous, the better. At the end of the story, the person telling it will say, ‘Go!’ The first person to activate their magic and give a plausible explanation of how they’d use their gift to escape, wins that round.”
“So we don’t actually use our magic; we just activate it?” Narre asked.
“Precisely,” Tullen said. “The game teaches us to activate it more quickly.”
“I’ll give the first scenario!” Jenevy said. “Give me a minute to think about it.” She sat, forehead wrinkled and lips pursed, for a short time. “All right,” she said. “You’re in Savala, and one of the Grays is nearby. He has hands of gold, which he can use to change the weather. He’s caused a massive thunderstorm. Lightning is striking everywhere around you, and sooner or later, it’s sure to hit you. You must stop the man. Go!”
It took two seconds for Sall to say, “I’ve got it.”
“Is your mind gift active?” Tullen asked.
Sall pulled his knit cap off, revealing his glowing cranium.
“How would you escape?” Tullen asked.
“I would use my gift to discern the man’s emotions, determining his motivation for causing the turbulent weather. Then I’d approach him and empathize with him, recognizing the source of his behavior. I’d talk to him about it until he chose to stop using his gift in such a way.”
Everyone chuckled, but Narre laughed so hard, Tullen thought she’d fall over. When she caught her breath, she asked, “You would get a dangerous man with gray magic to stop by asking him nicely?”
“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that,” Sall protested, but he was smiling.
Narre laughed again. “I’m not sure it would work, but I think it’s very sweet that you would try.” She scooted closer to Sall, and he put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.
“Because Jenevy told the story, she gets to determine if the escape solution is believable,” Tullen said.
“Sall is very empathetic,” Jenevy said. “I’m going to accept his story.”
Everyone either applauded or groaned, after which Officer Andisis said, “I’ll tell the next one. Here goes. A dangerous prisoner has broken out
of the small jail at the Safety Office in Oren. Everyone knows about it, and people are being careful, but then time passes, and people forget about it. There’s a knock at the front door of your home, and you open the door without asking who it is. It’s the prisoner, holding a long knife. Go!”
This time, Narre spoke up. “I know what I’d do!” she said, holding up glowing hands. “I’d duck down, so I was even with his knees—”
Officer Andisis interrupted. “I never said the prisoner was a man.”
There was a round of light laughter, and Narre continued, “Fine, then, I’d kneel so I was even with her knees. I’d move quickly, and hopefully her reflexes wouldn’t be too fast. I’d grab her legs and use my gift to bind them together, and then I’d roll out of the way so that when she tried to take a step toward me, she’d fall down.”
“Can you really do that, bind flesh to flesh?” Tullen asked.
“I don’t see why not—if it’s for the right reason,” Narre said. “Hopefully Sava would allow it if I were in danger.”
“It’s why I try not to make her angry,” Sall said. Most of the group laughed. Even Tavi, who’d turned to face the fire again, smiled.
“Did I win?” Narre asked.
Officer Andisis smiled. “I’ll accept it.” They all applauded again.
The game continued, Jenevy and Officer Andisis taking turns creating stories. After six rounds, the wins were split evenly between Tullen, Narre, and Sall.
“Reba,” Narre said, “You haven’t spoken up. Maybe we should think of some ways your sight gift could help you escape.”
“I don’t want to play,” Reba said.
“It’s fun, and it’s good practice,” Narre insisted.
“I don’t want to practice!” Reba said. “When I use my magic, my eyes feel like they’re burning alive. And what am I supposed to use my gift for, anyway? Seeing really well wouldn’t have helped in any of those scenarios. It doesn’t help with anything at all. The only reason I’m going to Savala is to use my knowledge of the Grays against them. Not to use my magic.” She stood. “I’d appreciate someone telling me when dinner is ready.” She walked to the wagon and climbed inside.
Tullen watched her, then looked at Tavi. She was glaring at the fire. When he’d heard about her attack on Reba, he’d been proud of her. Now, however, he wondered how miserable she must be, spending every day with a person she blamed for her sister’s death.
Then something occurred to Tullen. Tavi was spending every day with two people she blamed for that terrible occurrence—Reba and him. And now she’d had to sit through a game that reminded her of the loss of her magic, which had happened at the same time as the loss of her sister. If Tullen felt this trip was awkward, Tavi must share those sentiments tenfold.
“Tullen?” Jenevy whispered. He turned his head toward her. “Do you think I should talk to Tavi?” she asked. “That game must have been hard for her to watch. I don’t have magic either; she might be glad to know someone else understands.”
Tullen smiled. “That’s very kind, but I’m not sure it would be taken well.”
She sighed and nodded. “I thought as much.”
It had been about six weeks since Tavi had ended things with him, and Tullen reflected on how much of that time he’d spent thinking about her and watching her, receiving little more than short glances in return.
He shifted, turning his body toward Jenevy. She’d proven to be a good friend over many years, and she had her own concerns, difficulties Tullen had given little thought to. “I bet you miss your family,” he said.
Jenevy held his gaze and nodded. “I do.”
“I’m happy to listen, if you’d like to talk about it.”
She began talking, and so did he. They chatted until after the stew had been eaten and cleaned up. And when everyone else had gone to bed, they sat around the embers of the fire, huddled in two blankets, and talked for hours more. At last, they entered a cycle of contagious yawning that showed no signs of resolving itself without sleep. They shared a smile and entered the warmth of the wagon.
Chapter Eighteen
At this late stage of labor, the mother is likely to become convinced she doesn’t have enough strength to give birth. Tell her, “You can do it. You are doing it.”
-From Midwifery: A Manual for Practical and Karian Midwives by Ellea Kariana
“The city is in sight!”
At the sound of Officer Andisis’ words, the wagon’s six occupants rushed to the tiny, barred window between them and the driver’s seat. It was only big enough for one set of eyes. Narre got there first, but she didn’t stay long, allowing Sall to look next. They all took turns marveling at the massive city. Even Reba seemed excited to see the city, though her memories of it weren’t the best.
Once she’d looked out the window, Tavi sat back in the corner where she’d taken up residence at the beginning of the trip, thirteen days earlier. She’d known the trip was likely to take at least that long. But two weeks had felt more like two years, and despite her uncertainty about living with the other Golds in a midwife house, she couldn’t wait to be done with traveling.
Tavi’s biggest annoyance, other than traveling with people she felt awkward around, was the lack of bathrooms. They’d found some creeks and streams to wash up in, but it hadn’t been enough. Each of them only had one spare set of clothes, and now it didn’t matter which garments they wore: They all smelled of dirty sweat. Tavi couldn’t stand touching her oily, unwashed hair. The male travelers, too, looked scruffy. Tullen’s cheeks were covered in whiskers; Officer Andisis had several nicks from trying to shave without a mirror; and Sall had grown a full beard.
The last leg of the trip included a descent from the mountains west of Savala, and it was a bumpy ride. But no one seemed to mind too much; their destination, complete with indoor plumbing, was just ahead.
While the others continued to take turns at the window in front, Tavi kept her eyes on the larger window in back. The winding road afforded her occasional glimpses of a monastery high in the mountains. Her older sister Tess had lived there for over four years and was committed to spending the rest of her life there as a Savani monk. How did Tess react when she got the letter about Misty? Tavi wondered. Tess was only allowed to send letters to her family twice a year, and they hadn’t received a reply from her before Tavi left.
Narre’s enthusiastic voice interrupted Tavi’s musings. “What’s everyone looking forward to the most in Savala?”
Jenevy, who’d gone back to the tiny window and had her face pressed against the bars, answered first. “I can’t wait to see the big buildings up close!” she said.
“I can’t wait to eat hot meat that I didn’t hunt,” Tullen said.
Sall, who was stretched out on a bench, yawned. “I just want to sleep in a bed.”
“Last time I was here, I was stuck in a wagon with the shutters closed,” Narre said. “I’m looking forward to experiencing the city.” She paused, then turned to Reba. “What about you?”
Reba looked around the group, not avoiding anyone’s eyes. “I’m looking forward to stopping the Grays.” Everyone but Tavi nodded.
“Tavi,” Narre asked, “what are you excited for?”
Tavi was so tired of the others in the wagon making a point to include her when she was giving every indication she wanted to be left alone. She looked up at Narre and said one word: “Privacy.”
Narre’s eyebrows rose, and with a smile that was too cheerful to be genuine, she replied, “Well, it has been a crowded journey, hasn’t it?”
The wagon continued down the mountain, its occupants silent. As they navigated through the foothills, the sun set behind them. The road at last leveled out again, and the ride became smoother. Tullen, Jenevy, and Sall tried to play a game of cards, but it was too dark. Narre attempted to engage both Tavi and Reba in conversation, with equally dismal results.
Tavi knew her lack of socialization was impolite, but it had been such a long trip. She did
n’t want to fake it. Besides, she wouldn’t be spending a lot of time with her friends once they were in the city. Hopefully she’d given them enough hints on the trip to prepare them for her independence in Savala.
“We’re getting close,” Tullen said from his spot next to the small window.
As if on cue, the wagon’s ride became smoother. “Cobblestones!” Officer Andisis shouted from the driver’s bench. There were still plenty of bumps, but the road felt luxurious compared to so many days of dirt and ruts.
As they entered the city, the streets became more crowded, and their pace slowed. Officer Andisis had to turn the wagon around twice when he got off course. Both times he called through the little window, apologizing and placing the blame squarely on himself. Tavi was surprised he could find his way around at all; he was navigating by the light of streetlamps only, using directions handwritten by Pala.
The streets of the city seemed endless, but they eventually pulled to a stop in an alley. Officer Andisis knocked on the door of the wagon. When Sall opened it, the officer said, “Stay there while I figure out if we’re at the right place.”
Pala’s voice soon reached them, and then the midwife herself stood at the wagon’s open door. She placed her hands on her hips. “It’s a good thing all prison wagons aren’t this comfortable; people would line up to be thieves!” she said. Several of the passengers laughed. “Get your things, and come inside,” Pala said. “I got the note you sent earlier today, and we have hot stew waiting for you. You’ll stay for dinner too, Officer. Hurry up, now, all of you.”
They obeyed, taking their bags and getting out of the wagon. Tavi stretched her legs. Hot stew sounded delicious.
Pala ushered them through the back door and into a coatroom, instructing them to set their things down. She led them into a hallway that was well-lit with hanging lanterns. “We’ll feed you before showing you to your rooms,” Pala said. She pointed out the dining room, then gave them directions to the large house’s three bathrooms.
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