Yarrow’s animation drained from his face and he eyed her questioningly. The tips of his ears turned red and his brows drew down. Then, coolly, he turned from her and introduced himself to Adearre.
Bray studied him closely—the way he held himself, the way he spoke to the others in the room. She decided that he was not at all what he had once been. And what did it matter? What was Yarrow Lamhart, really? Just some boy she had known briefly, long ago. A stranger.
“I take it we all know each other?” Dolla said. The guarded tone in her voice made it clear that she, too, found this turn of events suspect.
“We’re all of the same year,” Peer said. “Yarrow, Bray, and I even came to the Temple in the same carriage.” He turned back to Yarrow. “What of Arlow? Do we have a full set?”
“No,” Yarrow replied, taking a seat. “He’s an advisor for the King now.”
“Well, well. That ought to make him happy.”
“If we’ve finished our little reunion, might we talk business?” Dolla asked, her drollness cutting Peer short.
“This young man,” Dolla gestured to Yarrow, “was about to tell me why the Cosanta have sent a student of the Fifth to investigate the death of a marked girl.”
Bray exchanged raised eyebrows with Peer. Yarrow studied the Fifth?
Yarrow pulled a small notebook out of his chest pocket and flipped through the pages with long fingers.
“I stumbled upon this several days ago,” he said, then read: “‘Fire conceals truth in times of marked famine.’”
Peer smirked. “What the bleeding Spirits does that mean?”
“I believe that ‘marked famine’ refers to the phenomenon of the past ten years—our shrinking numbers. ‘Fire conceals truth’ leads me to wonder if there is not some connection between this fire and the other issue.”
“Such as?” Adearre asked. He sounded as incredulous as Bray felt. What good did the incomprehensible ramblings of some long-dead mystic do? Everyone knew that most of their prophecies were only understood after coming to pass, and were therefore useless.
“My theory,” Yarrow said, “and mind it is just that—a theory—is that this girl represents one of hundreds of marked children who have been killed. That our numbers are not dwindling naturally, but that our youngest are being targeted.”
A chilly silence suffused the room. The notion was too awful. Bray’s mind rejected it utterly. Her reaction was not unique, around the room there were many frowns and shaking heads.
“It isn’t possible,” Dolla said curtly. “Not even we know who will be marked each year—how could someone else? How could a child be attacked before even making their mark known?”
“I do not know,” Yarrow said. “But I mean to find out.”
“What are you hoping to find in Greystone?” Adearre asked.
“Whatever there is to find,” Yarrow said with a shrug. “I sincerely hope I am wrong.”
The party grew quiet. Dolla picked up the newspaper clipping and set to reading it.
“When do we leave?” Ko-Jin asked. He fiddled idly with a ring on his middle finger.
“First thing tomorrow,” Bray said.
Ko-Jin placed his hands flat on the table and made to stand.
Bray cleared her throat. “There is more I have to say.” She carefully avoided Yarrow’s eyes, looking over his shoulder instead. “I want to make it perfectly clear,” she said in her most authoritative voice, “that you two are here as a courtesy. This is not a community of equals. I am in command of this investigation. You will do as I say in all matters, or you shall not be permitted to stay.”
The atmosphere grew static with tension. Bray made herself lock eyes with Yarrow; a leader did not avoid such things. His expression was difficult to interpret—the muscles in his jaw twitched and his eyes looked almost…disappointed? Ko-Jin crossed his arms before his chest, the bulk of his biceps and chest standing out more prominently.
Yarrow nodded to her once, then stood, turned, and stepped toward the door.
“I will need your word.”
He turned his head, but kept his back to her. “I make it a general policy to always defer to experience and wisdom.”
Then he strode from the room, Ko-Jin at his heels. The door shut behind them with a sharp click. Bray breathed a sigh of relief when she was left, again, with only her own brothers and sister.
“He didn’t give you his word,” Dolla said, still staring at the door.
“I noticed,” Bray said dryly. “Adearre, was he lying?”
Adearre also gazed at the entry, his eyes distant.
“Adearre?”
“He showed no outward sign of lying… I confess, I found him very strange.”
“Yarrow?”
“Yes. Most Cosanta work to conceal their emotions, and he seemed to do so to some extent. But much of what he felt played plainly across his face. I might think this an act, but if so it was an odd one. His manner changed several times without obvious stimulus. It was as if he were reacting to something other than what transpired in the room.”
“Did you notice anything about the other one?” Dolla asked.
Adearre shrugged. “Nothing useful. He did examine each of us for physical weaknesses as soon as he entered the room, but this seemed cursory. When he is distracted he still leans his weight to the right, as he did as a youth.” Adearre smiled widely. “Oh, and of course, the fact that he is a perfect human specimen with appealing eyes.”
Bray snorted, glad for a lightening of the mood. “I don’t think you’re his type, I’m afraid.”
“What makes you think so?”
“He was a bit of a flirt back when we were plebes.”
“Ah,” Adearre said, eyes twinkling, “but a man can change in ten years’ time.”
“Yes,” Dolla’s sharp voice cracked. “A man certainly can change. I advise all of you not to let your guards down merely because you knew these two as children. I do not trust a Cosanta, and especially not one as disconnected from reality as a studier of the Fifth. The fact that he brought himself a Chaskuan bodyguard is even more suspect, regardless of how appealing his eyes are.”
Peer stood so quickly he knocked his chair to the floor, where it clattered. Bray’s brows drew up in surprise at the intensity of his expression, his face pink and his mouth downturned. “Are we done here?” he asked.
“Certainly,” Bray said, eyeing her friend curiously.
Peer nodded curtly and departed. Bray and Adearre exchanged baffled expressions and followed in his wake.
Adearre excused himself to acquire pain medication from the medic, and Bray meandered across the grounds, her thoughts a jumble. A mere half hour ago, all she had to think about was the tragedy in Greystone. Now her mind was engaged in far more trivial and self-interested matters. Why did it have to be Yarrow Lamhart, of all people, to walk through that door? And why did it matter so much to her? She longed for some peace, so she found a quiet quarter of the garden and practiced the Tearre. She split her mind with ease and lost herself in the exertion of physical exercise. She did not let herself enter the Aeght a Seve, however, fearing that the tranquility there might open her mind to complicated thoughts.
Yarrow leaned his head against the frame of the carriage window, watching the foliage stream past him. The flora here differed from Chasku, not starkly, but just enough to feel foreign. He could hear Peer whistling from the driver’s seat over the thunder of horse hooves.
Yarrow had kept his gaze firmly out the window to avoid the awkwardness within the carriage. He and the others had remained in near-silence all morning and afternoon. He could feel Bray and Adearre examining him now and again, sensed the distrust in their eyes. Bray’s feelings were a hard ball of tension in the rear of his mind. He had done his best to ignore her, as he found the alteration in her disposition too dismaying to linger on.
Ko-Jin had made a few half-hearted attempts to lighten the mood, each rejected with icy stares. He had since given up and had
reclined, his eyes closed and his breathing regular. Yarrow sincerely doubted he was, in truth, napping—the great coward. Still, Yarrow wished he had thought of the ploy himself. They couldn’t, of course, both pretend to sleep.
The flying greenery had begun to make Yarrow feel motion sick. He leaned back and his eyes met Adearre’s. The Adourran’s golden stare was unreadable, his mouth downturned; he did not look away upon being discovered, but continued to inspect. There was something eerie and unsettlingly invasive about the man’s look. Yarrow cleared his throat and stood to reach his pack on a storage shelf. He extracted a tome and returned to his seat. He had only just begun his project of cross-referencing, after all. The fact that the book gave his eyes a place to rest without discomfort was an added bonus. Within moments he was immersed.
“Is it the Fifth’s words you read?” Adearre asked, his musical voice breaking Yarrow’s concentration.
“It is,” he said and carefully turned a page.
“Why do they interest you?” he asked.
Yarrow looked up at that. Bray watched him, waited for his answer. “Why do my interests interest you?” he challenged.
A hint of a smile quirked at the man’s mouth. Bray’s eyes narrowed.
“I aim to take the measure of you,” Adearre said.
“You wonder if you should distrust me, or merely dislike me,” Yarrow said dryly. “We’ll get on much better if we’re honest with each other.”
Adearre laughed, but it did not cut the sense of enmity. “Then answer my questions honestly and help me form my opinion. Why do you read the Fifth?”
“In general or at this moment?”
“Both.”
Yarrow placed a marker and closed the book, meeting Adearre’s gaze. “In general…it’s hard to explain. There is so much more to it than prophecy—there is science, math, history, astronomy—it’s a massive jig-saw puzzle, and if I could only manage to put all the pieces together, I would know… truth. Every bit I manage to interpret, I’m one step closer.”
“And at this moment?”
“The Fifth frequently enter cycles, patterns. They talk about the same event or fact over and over, giving slightly more or different information each time. I seek further reference to the fire in Greystone, or our shrinking numbers, in hopes of understanding either more fully.”
“Do you have an explanation as to why so many more Chiona have been lost than Cosanta?”
Yarrow shook his head but took a guess. “If they are being targeted, perhaps the culprit has a greater interest in your kind than mine.”
Adearre nodded solemnly.
“Well,” Yarrow asked, smiling with feigned humor, “have I passed your test?”
“No.”
It was not Adearre who spoke, but Bray. Yarrow’s insides froze, as if he’d been plunged into frigid water. He was tempted to ask her to elaborate, but he did not think he could bear to hear whatever negative opinion of him she had formed. The knowledge was crushing enough without further elucidation.
He assumed his most apathetic expression and shrugged at her, as if unconcerned, then opened his book again. He felt her spike of anger, but he did not look up. They continued on for another hour in silence.
Peer pulled them to a halt so they could attend to the necessary. Bray and Adearre climbed out of the carriage immediately. Yarrow took the opportunity to kick Ko-Jin in the ankle. His friend hissed.
“You’re no help at all,” Yarrow said. “It’s been like an inquisition in here.”
Ko-Jin smiled and nodded, suddenly alert. “Better you than me, mate. And to think I once had a crush on that girl! No, I’ll continue to ‘sleep,’ thank you very much.” He closed his eyes again.
Yarrow snorted and hopped down from the carriage, in search of an accommodating bush.
Dusk encroached upon them as they stopped in a clearing at the base of a great hill. Gnats hummed in Bray’s ears as she leaned over her Dalish map. She traced her finger along their route, feeling the rough parchment.
“We can keep riding through dark and stay at the inn in Clanton,” she said at last. “Or make camp here.”
“Clanton—swore I’d never stay in that dung heap again,” Peer said.
Adearre looked up into the cloudless twilight sky. “The weather is sound.”
“Agreed.” Bray folded the map and returned it to her bag.
The matter settled, Peer, Adearre, and Bray set about the familiar tasks of making camp.
She turned to where Yarrow and Ko-Jin stood. “Collect fire wood.”
Bray worried how the Cosanta would respond to her first order. Neither man looked terribly pleased by her tone, but they merely nodded and moved toward the nearest wooded area.
Bray, alone with her two usual companions once again, felt some of the tightness leave her shoulders.
“How were they?” Peer asked, as he fastened the feed bag to the nearest horse.
Bray waited for Adearre to answer. She’d been dying to know what he thought of Yarrow’s assertions.
“Ko-Jin pretended to sleep most of the day,” Adearre said, his eyes following the backs of the two men. “Yarrow insisted again that he believes marked children are being killed. He is either the best liar I have ever encountered, or he is in earnest.”
The idea of Yarrow Lamhart as an accomplished liar was completely incongruous with her memory of him. She had to remind herself, for the umpteenth time that day, that her memory of him was irrelevant.
“I think perhaps,” Adearre said, “we should act as though we trust them.”
Bray nodded slowly. “Yes, it will be easier to find them out if they don’t believe we’re suspicious.”
“Thus far,” Adearre said, “there is nothing to be suspicious of.”
“Except that they’re Cosanta.” Peer looked at Adearre as if he’d gone daft. “Which is more than enough on its own, as far as I’m concerned.”
Bray laughed in agreement and Adearre bit his lip.
“You know I like the Cosanta no more than the two of you,” he said. “But that does not make them guilty of a crime.”
Their conversation was perforce ended by the return of the two gentlemen in question. In addition to arms full of timber, Ko-Jin had two fat rabbit carcasses dangling from his belt.
“Dinner,” he said, holding them up to her. He looked pleased with himself, but her frown deepened as she took the creatures.
“We have provisions.” She inspected the precise wounds in the beasts. Was his aim to demonstrate his skill with a knife?
“Fresh meat is always better,” he said, taking them back and setting to skin them.
Peer built up the fire, and in no time the night air was full of the crackling of dripping grease and the aroma of charred meat. Bray refused any of the rabbit, and rather chewed on the dried meat they were meant to be eating. Her jaw creaked with the effort.
The uncomfortable atmosphere of the day had abated. Ko-Jin recounted to the group at large a humorous story of how he had accidentally offended the warriors of the Adourran flatlands by killing and eating several desert hares—an animal apparently highly prized and honored in that region. Peer and Adearre laughed raucously, along with Yarrow, and Bray glowered at the lot of them.
Peer must have noticed her expression; he came to sit by her and put his arm around her shoulder. He took a bite from a rabbit leg, his lips gleaming with grease in the firelight. “Why so glum?” he asked softly, through a mouthful of meat.
She shoved him. “Not an hour ago they were culpable for being Cosanta. They offer you a little meat, and now you’re all best mates? Bloody men…”
Peer gnawed on the bone and discarded it. “We decided to pretend to trust them, remember?”
Oh, right… “Does that mean we have to be so chummy?” she grumbled.
Ko-Jin stood and climbed to the roof of the carriage, to his trunk. He extracted two swords. Bray’s body stiffened with readiness for an attack, until he came back into the light and it be
came clear that they were merely wasters.
Ko-Jin nudged his seated friend with a foot. “Come on, I need a workout.”
He tossed one of the wooden swords in Yarrow’s lap.
“You know full well I don’t pose enough of a challenge to qualify—”
“I’ll work with what I’ve got. Up you get.”
Bray watched as Yarrow, with obvious reluctance, followed his friend several paces from the fire. He did not hold the weapon with much confidence, nor wield it with particular skill for a Chisanta. Bray and her companions were all significantly superior swordsmen. Ko-Jin, however, moved with incredible speed and agility, making swordplay look more a dance than a sport. It was mesmerizing to watch. His braid bounced and his robes swooshed, but his face was almost bored as he pushed Yarrow further and further into the clearing, stopping every now and again to give his friend instruction and encouragement.
Bray wanted to join them, longed for a bit of physical exertion to chase away the stresses of the day. She and her companions frequently ended their days by sparring as well.
“Should I get our wasters?” Peer asked, his gaze directed as hers was.
Bray nodded. She and Adearre approached the Cosanta while Peer extracted their own practice weapons from the carriage.
Yarrow noticed them and paused; he wiped sweat from his ruddy face.
“Have you come to join us?” Ko-Jin smiled devilishly. “I’ve never sparred a Chiona before.”
Bray’s fist clenched tight around the smooth bamboo hilt in her hand. He mocked them.
“We should be happy to educate you, then,” she said through clenched teeth.
His eyebrows shot up and his mouth turned up at the corner; he bowed his head to her with sardonic reverence. “How shall we pair up?”
Division of the Marked (The Marked Series) Page 16
