Because it was so much worse than what I’d already been through? I scowled. “I can handle it.”
She sighed and glanced at Deborl and the other Councilors. “It’s not that we don’t think you can. It’s—Do you remember the law that was passed a few years ago?”
Ugh. The law that didn’t allow anyone to be a citizen unless they’d owned a home in Heart for a hundred years. They wouldn’t even have let me into the city if it hadn’t been for Sam offering to become my guardian and ensure that I was properly educated. Sam and I had done everything the Council asked, including lessons with every type of work someone would teach me, monthly progress reports, and a curfew.
“The next part of our meeting is for citizens only,” Finn said.
Sam’s knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table. “So you care about this law, but not—”
I touched his elbow. “It’s not worth it.” If we provoked them too much, they might threaten to revoke his guardianship.
Anger-clouded eyes met mine, and he’d drawn his mouth into a thin line. I pressed my hand against his elbow until his expression grew easier. “As you wish.”
“I’ll meet you outside.” I gathered my coat from the back of my chair and my notebook from the table, and left without acknowledging anyone else.
11
BLUE
WHEN I CAME out the side door, the market field was still busy with people walking around, chatting, and listening to music on their SEDs, but not as crowded as before. Merton’s group was gone, though the effects of his speech lingered. People eyed me with distaste, and some had gathered into small circles of gossip.
I slumped on a bench and fumbled for my mitts.
“Hey, Ana.” Armande sat next to me and offered a paper cup of coffee.
“Thanks.” I balanced it on my knee and watched a group of children chase one another through the market field. They weren’t really children, though. They were five-thousand-year-old children, burning off the excess energy of their age. Would I know what that felt like, being a kid again but remembering everything I did now? I wanted the chance—ached for it—and acceptance.
“Don’t worry, Ana.” Armande gave me an awkward sideways hug, somehow knowing what I was thinking about. If I was that easy to read, surely my lies in the Council chamber had been, too.
“Did Lidea and Anid get home safely yesterday?” I asked.
He nodded. “Thanks to you. Wend is with her, of course, and Stef waited a few hours to make sure everything was all right. I think she’s rather taken with Anid.” Armande grinned. He was Sam’s father in this life, so the physical similarities between them were striking: dark hair they both wore perfectly shaggy, wide-set eyes, and strong builds. But that was where their likeness ended. Sam was quiet and graceful; Armande was outgoing and…less graceful.
I liked trying to figure out which traits were inherited each generation, and which traits had become habits.
“How’d it go in there?” He jerked his chin toward the Councilhouse.
I sipped my coffee, letting the heat flood through me. “The Council is angry with me.”
“The Council is always angry.”
“Deborl thinks I can control sylph.”
Armande snorted. “That’s like saying you control dragons. Ridiculous.”
I tried to smile, but I couldn’t forget the way the sylph had responded to my voice, to physical gestures, and my words when I shouted for them to flee. Maybe they’d have fled simply because I was shouting.
“It’s curious how there were so many, though. Aside from Templedark, we haven’t had an attack that size in centuries.”
It hadn’t even been an attack. Maybe. No one had been hurt—besides my reputation—so did it still count? In hindsight, it seemed like the sylph had just wanted to look at us.
We sat in silence while I waited on Sam, and Armande…made sure no one threw rocks. His stall was close enough to keep an eye on it while he kept an eye on me, too. I hated that, but I really didn’t want the girl across the way to yell at me, or the guy on the Councilhouse steps to call me names, so I said nothing.
“I’m worried about Anid.” I placed my coffee on the bench beside me. “About how he and other newsouls will grow up. The Council isn’t going to do anything.”
I couldn’t help but remember my first conversation with Councilors. Sam and I had just reached Heart, and I wasn’t allowed into the city. They’d insisted the no-Ana law was because they hadn’t been sure the city could support newsouls. Who would feed us and teach us? But there’d only been me.
Now there were two.
Soon there could be more.