I blinked away light and let my eyes adjust to the darkness once more. “I’m worried we haven’t heard from him. Even more worried he didn’t care for his garden.”
“Me too.” Sam replaced the SED in his pocket. “After the blue rose challenge was first issued, Cris packed up everything and built his cottage so he could work without everyone watching and criticizing his progress.
“One spring, he came back to Heart for supplies. It had been an especially unfriendly winter, but it was warm when he set out. Of course, as soon as he got home, a blizzard came through. He’d left his plants ready for spring, so they were still delicate. As soon as he realized how bad the weather was going to get, he turned his horse around. He made the entire trip in a day and a half and saved all his roses at the last minute. Didn’t lose even a leaf.”
That sounded like the Cris I sort of knew, and solidified my worry. Had something happened to him?
“There.” Sam pointed to a glow ahead. “Whit’s home, at least.”
It was almost a relief to go back to thinking about explosions. Thinking about Sam’s long history of one-sided relationships—My heart couldn’t take it.
23
FREEZE
INSIDE WHIT’S HOUSE, warmth prickled across my face as I unwrapped my scarf and pulled off my coat. I’d just have to put them on again, but I didn’t want to risk sweating inside and then freezing outside later.
“We were curious if you’d heard anything about the explosions last night.” Sam pocketed his mittens. His cheeks were flushed dark with chill.
“Just what everyone was told. I saw Jac’s house go up last night.” He glanced at me, his expression somber. “She was on our list of people to speak with. So were most of the other victims.”
“All of them were,” I said, “but I didn’t bring up a couple last night because only a few people were supposed to know.” Sarit had told me privately she’d talk to them.
“How did you know, then?” He cocked his head.
I shrugged and fiddled with my mittens. “Sometimes people just tell me things. I don’t know why.” Mostly a lie. People told Sarit, and Sarit told me because she didn’t think it was fair if I didn’t know just as much gossip as everyone else.
“I see.” Whit sat on the arm of his sofa, a monstrosity of faded gray and orange fabric that dominated the room. The rest was all bookcases and what looked like old board games on a long table. “I wish I had answers for you, but I came right here after the meeting. I walked part of the way with Lorin and Armande, but eventually we did have to go our separate paths. Orrin stayed behind to visit Geral. Cris, too.”
I nodded. “Have you seen Cris today?”
Whit stared through a bookcase. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. People often go days or weeks without seeing even close friends.”
That sounded crazy and lonely to me. I wanted to see my friends all the time. But maybe friendship was different when you’d been at it five thousand years.
“He isn’t home, and all his plants are uncovered.” Sam looked worried again. “We were just there.”
“Well, that’s a bad sign.” Whit scowled.
“To put it mildly.” Sam didn’t smile. “I was just telling Ana about the time he raced back to Purple Rose Cottage to beat the frost.”
“Cris would do anything for those plants.” Whit shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his mouth. Then it dropped, like he remembered Cris was missing. “I’ll call a few of his friends. Maybe they know something.”
“It’s strange,” I said, “that the explosions would happen just after the meeting. It could be coincidence, but…”
Whit shook his head. “I can’t imagine anyone in that crowd doing something like that. They’re all good people. You chose well.”
The compliment drifted by. I’d chosen well, but somehow, people had still been hurt. I should have done something different. Something better. “The Council is telling everyone it was gas leaks and corroded wires. They should be putting all the pregnant women somewhere safe.”
“Keeping them together makes them an easy target,” Whit said.
“Then not together. There are lots of places in Heart that aren’t being used right now.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Ana, but it’s unlikely anyone on the Council would tell you what they have planned. They might very well be doing exactly what you’ve suggested, but the fewer people who know the details, the safer everyone will be.” Whit leaned on a table, near a board game with tricolored tiles and pieces shaped like horses in various stages of rearing or running. “I wish I could give you answers.”
“What about Deborl?” I asked.
Whit lowered his voice. “He’s a Councilor.”