Innan chuckled into their cider. “I’ve seen the look before. Many times.”
“No.” Dagan shook his head, because that wasn’t right, exactly. “I mean, yes, of course. But he’s—” He huffed, looking for a way to explain. “He seduced me! With words!”
Innan blinked rapidly, their gold-and-orange eyelashes like the wings of some tiny butterfly. “What did he say?”
“That basically everything I think is terrible about me makes him like me. Except he said it very poetically, and I wish I’d written it down, but I was too busy crawling into his lap.”
“Damnation.” Innan looked surprised, glancing at the screened-off part of the hall as if they might see something through it. “He doesn’t seem all that perceptive. Or poetic.”
Dagan sighed. Of course, Innan would understand. They might not be perpetually horny like him, but they were decidedly romantic in the right circumstances. “I know.” Dagan took another drink, trying not to pout and probably failing.
Innan nodded thoughtfully. “Beautiful eyes, though.”
“Sweet forest gods, I know.” Dagan sighed once more, this time just for dramatic effect, and leaned his shoulder against Innan’s. “We’ll take it slow. As slow as he needs. But it was going so well…”
“Slow?” Innan cocked their head curiously.
“It’s not my story to tell.” Dagan chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. He could still taste Hendrik, if he thought hard enough. “But our refugee has a broken heart.”
“If he’s seducing you with words, he must be healing,” Innan suggested. “I’m proud of you.”
“Oh? Not judging me for having another pretty hanger-on?” Dagan smirked.
Innan flushed. “I did think it was something like that. I’m sorry, Dags. I just—he’s very good-looking, and he’s our age, and the way he looks at you…”
Dagan bumped them with his shoulder again. “You’re forgiven. For that part, anyhow. For interrupting us, not so much.”
“Very fair of you.” Innan smiled. “Do you want to talk about it? About you and him?”
“I didn’t think there was a me and him,” Dagan admitted. “Not until a half hour ago, anyhow. I thought maybe someday we’d meet up again, when I was a capable scout and he wasn’t so in love with ghost. But then, today, he surprised me.”
“How does it feel? When you’re alone with him?”
“Exciting. But also strangely comfortable.”
“You don’t have to perform?”
Dagan shook his head. “I suppose I did a little at first. But he hadn’t spoken to another living creature in moons, so I focused on reassuring him rather than charming him. It was pure, dumb luck. He sees right through the charm, you know.”
“He is smarter than he looks.”
“It’s unfair, isn’t it? To be that handsome and that smart all at once?”
Innan laughed. “Maybe this is what you both need to—”
“Innan?” Jessica poked her head around the screen. “Dagan, you should come too.”
“About time,” Dagan mumbled, though he made sure Jessica couldn’t see his face when he did. As they stood to join the Council, several new faces entered the hall, carrying travel packs as if they’d just come off the path. They made for the back room, as well. The refugees from Oak Grove, almost certainly.
At least he’d get to meet them, too. Dagan rounded the screen, Innan on his heels, and Hendrik looked up from a seat at the Council table. He smiled and looked slightly relieved, and Dagan tried to look reassuring.
Then, Hendrik’s gaze traveled over his shoulder, and his beautiful eyes went wide. As Dagan turned to see who it was, Hendrik said: “Piret?” And then, louder and more urgently, “Kajja?”
And within moments, he blew past Dagan to catch a flying girl in his arms.
The first thing Dagan
noticed, when he caught a glimpse of her small, heart-shaped face,
was that she had the exact same lightning-blue eyes as Hendrik.
Interlude: A Sister’s Story
As told in the winery hall of the Wildcrafter Settlement of the Heart Wood, on the fifth night of the Grain Moon Waxing in the Year of the Butterflies
After Kass and the others inherited, we expected a visit from you, Hen. When you didn’t show a few days after the full moon, Alara decided you were taken up with some important priest guard business, or that’s what she told all the neighbors. Konstantin and I knew something was wrong, though we didn’t talk about it. You know those looks he gives, though, when he gets all lost in thought. I started walking up to the High City, looking for you or someone who knew where you were. I brought flowers and offerings to the See for Kass and Lyla. Well, that’s what I said, anyhow. Really, I was looking for you.
A friend of mine wanted to see the Red Lantern, even though we can’t really afford it without a guard for clout. So, we sneaked out and into the Tavern District, and—remember that little stall where we had the firewater before we went to the Lantern? That’s where I saw Piret! She looked rough—sorry, but you really did. No, I mean really, like you’d been drinking for a week straight. Sorry, but it’s true.
Anyhow, Piret shook it off enough to get us into the Lantern, and I introduced my friend to Leandro. And while they were off doing what Leandro does, Piret introduced me to Jak. He’s resistance, Hen! Can you believe it? They both told me about Sister Eva and what happened the day of the inheritance. I’m so, so sorry, Hen, it’s devastating, I know. I was even sadder, then, because I knew something bad had happened, but now I felt like you had to be dead. The last time Piret saw you, you went charging after those priests down the tunnel. She and Sister Eva turned back—I’m getting there, Piret! Piret wanted to go after you, but Sister Eva convinced her that was disordered, which, to be fair, it really was, Hen. What were you thinking?
Actually, no, never mind, I know what you were thinking. We’ll talk about how I was right, later.
So, the next day, Sister Eva introduced her to all the resistance people. Oh, right, the resistance! It’s an underground network of people in the City who are carefully, quietly fighting to free us of the tyranny of the See—officially, anyhow. But we all know there’s something else, something even more sinister behind the See, and that you and Piret saw evidence of that when you saw what it did to Kass and Lyla. There are a lot of wild ideas about what it is, but Sister Eva said it’s a dark being who’d been there since the time of the Founder, and who’d kept the City safe but through terrible means.
Yes, like the sacrifices! That’s what Sister Eva called them. How did you know? She said there’s a—oh, right, good question. What is this thing keeping the City safe from? Of course, the answer is the Heart Wood. Which, let me tell you, is so not scary. I mean, it would be without a guide, but Gareth here is a scout from Oak whatever, and he met us in this cave before we even crossed the river.
Wait, no, I’m getting ahead of myself.
Okay, so, back to the Lantern. Jak told me he learned about the resistance when he was just a kid and had since been working for them, trying to get in with all the power-broker types who came into the Lantern. Most people in the resistance only know the names of a few others, so they can’t give everyone away and bring it all down. Piret, Jak, and a few others in the Tavern District form a kind of corps and share information through each other.
So, the See has been looking for you, but they won’t go past the river. Jak told us he heard from his source that you’d killed two priests who were burning the bodies. Nice one, by the way. The See wasn’t happy, though, and Sister Eva, who’s Piret’s source, told her that they thought you’d died in the Heart Wood trying to escape. Jak was really sad about that, by the way. He’s going to be so glad you’re alive. He said he felt bad about trying to sleep his way into power through you because he really does like you.
