Hendrik threw a glance Dagan’s way. Only when Dagan nodded encouragingly did Hendrik reply at last. “I was a guard there. I discovered that the priests were killing—or allowing my charge, our charges to be murdered by something there.”
“So, you left of your own free will?” The councilor in the Oak Grove seat asked. No doubt they had friends or even family back in their conservancy who were refugees themselves.
Hendrik nodded. “Though I believe I would be killed, if I went back.”
“For this knowledge?” another councilor asked.
“I killed two priests who were covering up evidence of—of the murders.” Hendrik’s voice broke slightly, but he recovered fast, and the expression on his face never changed. Forthright, stony, soldierly. “When I went missing soon after, they must’ve realized it was me.”
Serious nods all around the table. “Dagan, my boy, what’s your assessment of the refugee?”
“Despite the extreme trauma of his journey here, Hendrik is willing and able to help us with any information. I believe he’d be an asset to us, and that he killed out of fear for himself and a desire for justice.” Dagan didn’t look to see what Hendrik made of this; it was the truth, and there was no point blunting it for him or the Council.
Jessica nodded once more. “Then welcome to the Heart Wood, Hendrik. Enjoy what the settlement has to offer, and we’ll discuss your future and what you saw in the City whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Hendrik said tightly.
“In the meantime, what can you tell us about the river?” asked the Oak Grove councilor.
The Council hadn’t gotten any farther than they had when Alonza had explained the corruption of the Blue Bird to him at Dagan’s send-off party, as it turned out. A rehash of what he’d both heard before and gleaned for himself from his lifecasting ensued: rot, corruption, death, drying up, and no explanation but “some kind of magic” for any of it. Not to mention the first effects it was having on the life of the forest, with populations already beginning to shift west.
Dagan had to wonder, “Is it spreading?”
Several of the councilors exchanged meaningful glances.
Dagan nodded. “I felt it. I marked it on my map, where it was. It seemed too far from the estuary to be stable.”
Jessica nodded. “Thank you, Dagan, that’ll be very useful.”
They were dismissed with an invitation to return tomorrow to discuss the state of the Stone City and the events that had led to Hendrik leaving it behind in more depth. Innan said they knew of a little empty house, if they didn’t want to camp or take a tiny room at the overcrowded winery. Hendrik nodded, and so Dagan accepted.
Once they were ensconced in a very cozy cottage indeed, Hendrik stood in a doorway, running his hand over the smooth-polished wood over and over. When Dagan entered the room, Hendrik looked up and flushed, as if he were doing something strange.
“What is it?” Dagan ventured.
“I’ve never seen so much wood in my life. Doorways and windows and expensive things are made of it, in the City. Here it's everything. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”
Dagan threw himself onto a comfortable lounger with a high back and a long couch for his legs. “Perhaps we take it for granted. But it is our world: the trees, their wood, their fruit and nuts. There’s no us without them.”
“I don’t think you take it for granted.” Hendrik leaned against the door jamb with one hip, then, turning to face him. “You’re teaching me not to, either.”
Dagan’s breath caught a little, at that. “Am I really?”
Hendrik nodded.
“You’re too sweet.” Dagan sighed. “Do you want to go out for a drink tonight? Or would you prefer a quiet night in? You were dreamy and content in the forest, but now you seem edgy.”
“Do I?” Hendrik snorted. “I’m…I still wish we could just keep going.”
Dagan nodded, a sense of pride and pleasure welling up in his middle. “You’re welcome to move on with me, once we’re no longer needed here. I can take you to Oak Grove Conservancy, or Black Walnut if you want to meet my incredibly obnoxious family, first.”
“Would you really?” Hendrik smiled.
“Why not?”
“You don’t have to go back out scouting?”
“I’ve been out for an entire moon; I’m entitled to my own time now. Didn’t you ever have a few weeks off guarding?”
He shook his head. “Never. Hardly even a day.”
“How dreadful. Well, now you do, so consider what you want to see, and I’ll gladly show you.”
“What about your life? Your family and friends. Lovers.”
“I’ll introduce you.” Dagan waved vaguely. “We’ll get you started collecting your own.”
“Not much of a collector.” Hendrik’s smile went lopsided. “Not like you.”
Dagan sighed and leaned back, perhaps a little dramatically. “In truth, sweetheart, I never know if I’m collecting or being collected. But don’t tell anyone I said it; I have an image to maintain.”
“Which would you prefer?” Hendrik came into the room and sat on a nearby cushioned stool. “To collect or to be collected?”
A little surge of excitement rushed through Dagan, at that. He knew this mood, when Hendrik wanted to settle in for a good, long conversation. He adored it. “Well, I’d rather have a choice in the matter, but I suppose I do either way.”
“Choice is such a big part of life here,” Hendrik said. “And you say you enjoy it. But then, you say things like that, and I wonder how much you do things just because you can or because it’s easy. Not because you really want to.”
Oh, now that was interesting. Dagan sat up a little, fixing his gaze on Hendrik intently. “Do go on.”
