Asunder

“This,” he growled, “doesn’t belong to you.” He grabbed the front of my coat, jerked me around so I hit the wall again, and then he was gone.

 

My head pounded as I struggled to find my feet, to go after him, but I staggered a few steps and hit the ground. Stone scraped my palms and fingertips, all gritty and cold. I stared up at the real world, such a shock after an eternity of solitude.

 

At least two dozen people milled around the market field. Some gaped at me. I hadn’t seen them before, hadn’t thought to be mindful when I emerged from the temple. There wasn’t supposed to be a door. Had they seen the man attack me? Had they noticed my appearance?

 

Had anyone heard the souls crying? The temple loomed behind me, immense and infinitely horrible. Maybe it wasn’t a heart, but a stomach.

 

I tried to track the man who’d attacked me, but my eyes were bleary with pain and grief. His large form stopped by a smaller one—Deborl?—and moved on. I lost him.

 

I’d lost the key. I’d lost my biggest advantage.

 

I collapsed over my knees and sobbed.

 

“Ana!” Sam fell beside me, wrapped his arms around me. “Where have you been? What happened?”

 

“Someone took the key.”

 

“Your key? Who?”

 

“I don’t know.” I buried my face in Sam’s shirt and let tears fall. My eyes were heavy with the weight of them, like I could cry seas.

 

“Ana,” he murmured. “Oh, Ana. You’re safe now.”

 

I didn’t have the breath to tell him I wasn’t worried about myself. It was the others. It should have been me, too, except Menehem’s experiment had gone wrong. His meddling.

 

Trying to swallow my sobs so we wouldn’t draw a crowd, I burrowed deeper into Sam’s embrace. I inhaled the scent of sunshine on his skin, shampoo in his hair, and coffee on his breath as he squeezed me tighter.

 

“I was so afraid for you, but you’re here now. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He whispered comforting nonsense while he peeled my hair off my wet cheeks and neck. I smelled salty, sweaty, and perhaps I’d carried Meuric’s odors of blood and pee, because Sam dragged his hands over me as though searching for injuries.

 

My worst injuries were on the inside.

 

A narrow shadow dropped over us. Sam’s weight shifted when he looked up, and his voice rumbled in his chest against my ear. “What?”

 

“Just checking to make sure everything was okay.” Councilor Deborl’s voice was strained, as though he were trying to make it deeper than it really was.

 

“Thanks, but we’re fine.” Sam stood, drawing me with him. I had just enough time to dry my cheeks, not that it mattered. Dark stains on Sam’s shirt revealed the oceans of my crying.

 

“When people scream, it’s rude to leave them in the middle of the market field.” Deborl leveled his glare on me. “Especially when her guardian is the one to frighten her so badly.”

 

I edged closer to Sam. “There was someone else. He pushed me and took—”

 

Deborl cocked his head. “And took what?”

 

Took the key, but I wasn’t supposed to know about the key. No one was supposed to be able to remember it, and what if the stranger hadn’t just paused by Deborl, but given him the key, too? If I accused Deborl of having the key, there’d be questions of how I came to possess it. Questions like what happened to Meuric, and why had I been hiding such an important object?

 

I slumped against Sam. “The man shoved me. He was big….” Everyone was big compared to me. “He had brown hair. He walked right by you.”

 

“I’ll look for him,” Deborl said, but he didn’t leave.

 

“Everything is okay, Deborl.” Sam kept his voice even, and only the way his arm tightened around me belied his tone. “Thank you for checking.”

 

Deborl glanced between us, scratching his chin where red lines marked cuts from shaving. “I hope you haven’t been letting her get hurt a lot. After all, the Council trusts you to care for her.” His eyes narrowed when he smiled. “You know, half the population thinks she’s responsible for Templedark, and the other half isn’t convinced that she’s not. And now they’re talking about the incident with the sylph.”

 

Sam’s hands curled into fists, and his shoulders pulled back as though he was ready to hit Deborl. “Ana did more to mitigate a slaughter during Templedark than anyone. And where were you that night? Did you turn over and go back to sleep?”

 

Their argument had begun drawing curious looks. Cris strode toward us as though on a mission. Most others just stared.

 

“Stop,” I said. “Both of you.” I couldn’t imagine how my voice didn’t shake. I locked my knees to stay upright, but it just made me light-headed.

 

Deborl smirked.

 

“Hello, Cris,” I said as he approached behind Deborl. I was so sore and tired. Maybe someone else could keep Sam and Deborl from coming to blows. Then I could curl up on a nice rock and go to sleep for a year.

 

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