Sam and I scooted our chairs toward hers.
“For now, the Council is giving the gas story.” Her voice was so quiet I strained to hear. “But I assume you two have already figured out what really happened.”
“Someone hates newsouls.” I wanted to be sick.
“Yes.” She leveled her gaze on me. “I can stop you from investigating this, but I won’t. I know this is something you’re passionate about, Ana. I want to caution you, though, before you do anything reckless.”
Because someone had told her about the meeting last night? Or she just knew?
She went on. “Whoever planted those explosives is already willing to risk Council repercussions, not to mention several lifetimes of people exacting revenge. Hurting—or killing—either of you isn’t going to be a problem.”
“But the law about killing me—”
She shook her head. “They don’t care, Ana. Any of those unborn could have been newsouls. The law protects them, too, but…”
“There should be better laws.” I crossed my arms, and neither Sam nor Sine disagreed. “What about Lidea and Anid?”
“Wend took everything they needed to my house. Whoever is doing this won’t suspect Lidea and Anid are with me, at least for a few more days. Hopefully we’ll have answers by then.”
“I suppose you’ve already questioned the survivors?” Sam asked.
She nodded. “As much as we could. Some were badly burned, and their medication is making them, ah, interesting to talk to. But Geral was asking about you, Ana. And you’ll be relieved to know that, while the shock did send her into labor, she gave birth this morning. They’re both fine.”
“She did? They are?” I twisted in my chair like I’d be able to see through the layers of silk walls. “When can I see her?”
“Now, if you’d like. She’s in the first room in this hall.”
I was up and at the curtain before I realized they weren’t with me. “You aren’t coming?”
“We have a couple of things left to discuss,” said Sam. “I’ll join you shortly.” He sat straight with his hands on his knees. How had they both known to stay? How had one communicated to the other there was something they wanted to talk about without me? There must have been some signal I’d missed.
I hated being new. I hated being excluded. “Okay.” I shoved the curtain closed behind me, though it wasn’t terribly accommodating with slamming. It swished and floated back into creepy templelike perfection.
I found Geral’s room. There was nowhere to knock, so I swished the curtain around until she laughed and told me to come in.
She reclined on the bed, a swaddled baby in her arms. The medics and birthing assistants had cleaned her up, but there was a bandage on her forearm and stitches along a cut on her jaw. I should have found her sooner, before she’d gotten injured.
“Would you like to come the rest of the way in? If someone else stops by, they’re going to run over you.” Her smile would have been serene if not for the flinch at her cut. “I was hoping you’d visit,” she said as I crossed the room.
“Oh.” I tucked my hands into pockets. “I actually came to ask if you saw who blew up your house, but—”
“It was a gas leak and corroded wires.”
I tipped my face downward and raised my eyebrows. Stef had used that look on Sam several times, and it always made him tell the truth.
She gave a breathy laugh and hugged the baby tighter. It was sleeping, and I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl. “Well, no, I didn’t see anyone. Neither did Orrin. Cris was there a while, but he wouldn’t have hurt us.”
“No, of course he wouldn’t have.” I stared at the wall, wishing I knew why the arsonist had chosen last night. Coincidence? My meeting?
“Would you like to see my baby?” Geral whispered, tired and hopeful and sad, and I managed to feel even worse than I already did. She’d just wanted to share her newborn, and I’d been caught up in other problems.
“Sure.” I stood. “I’m sorry. Everything is just overwhelming. Who did you have?”
“Ariana.” She tugged the baby’s knit hat downward, though it had been just fine a second ago. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why would I?” And then: “Oh.” There’d never been an Ariana. It was a new name for a newsoul. “Oh.” The last came out perhaps more startled than I’d intended.
“I’m going to be a good mother.” Defensiveness edged Geral’s tone. “And you of all people should be accepting—”
“I am!” I pressed my hand to my mouth. “Sorry. I keep getting surprised. I’m as used to people being reborn as everyone else. I may not have had five thousand years for it, but it’s still been my entire life.” And that felt like a long time.
Her gaze flickered toward the curtain as someone entered. “It’s all right. After last night, I’m nervous about how people will react to her. I already love her so much.”