It was too confusing, trying to figure out what he really thought of me. Maybe when we were done here, he’d play the piano for me again. I knew how to handle that, at least.
“What’s going on up there?” I motioned toward the crowd of people around the temple and another large building beneath it. People milled around, chatted with one another, drank from paper cups, though I couldn’t tell where they’d gotten them. The perfume of fresh bread and coffee drifted toward us.
“This is the market field,” Sam said as we approached a cobblestone expanse that surrounded the temple. “Once a month there’s a market where you can buy most anything you need.”
I’d never seen so many people in my life; they were so noisy, all shouting and laughing. “And it’s happening now?”
Sam edged closer to me, like I needed his protection. “No, this is just the morning crowd. It’s the best social spot, and if you’re too lazy to cook your own breakfast, Armande almost always has a stall open.”
I paused as a pair of children raced by, heedless of anyone they might crash into. “Are you sure this isn’t the market?”
He led me around a cluster of tables and benches, away from a handful of people staring at me like I had four heads. “This is only a fraction of the population. Market day will be packed.”
“All my life it’s been just Li and me.” And the occasional visitor, but they’d only come to see Li. “I guess I didn’t realize— There are so many people.” And so loud. All the laughing, singing, gossiping.
Sam pressed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward a collapsible stall that held glass-covered trays of food. “Let me know if it’s too overwhelming.”
“I’m fine.” My words felt stiff, though. Every time we walked past a group of people, they looked at me. News about the nosoul’s arrival had spread quickly.
“Who’s next, do you think?” a woman not-quite-muttered to the man sitting next to her. “First Ciana. Anyone could be replaced next.”
I reminded myself I’d had nothing to do with my birth. I’d had nothing to do with Ciana’s disappearance. That didn’t stop the guilt.
“Someone said the temple went dark when Ciana died,” said the man. “Meuric and Deborl told everyone it was Janan punishing us, or maybe Ciana . . .”
When I glanced up to see if Sam had heard the discussion, he wore a dark glare aimed at the couple. “Ignore them, Ana,” he said.
At this rate, I would have to ignore everyone in the world. All the million souls of Heart. “Everybody hates me.”
“They won’t.” He smiled at me, that warmth again. Fondness. He didn’t hate me, though I had no clue why. “Just try to smile a lot. Look pleasant.”
“Hmph.”
“Here, I know what will help.” He checked his SED. “We have a little time before they’re expecting us.”
We approached the baker’s stall, and Sam bought cups of hot apple cider to warm our cold hands, and a pastry for us to share. I did smile then.
“This is Armande,” he said, introducing the baker. “He’s my father this time around. He’s also the best baker in Heart.”
While Armande told me about his kitchen, how early he woke to get muffins and pies ready for the day, I studied his features. He had the same wide-set eyes and black hair as Sam. Same build. Interesting. I didn’t look much like Li. Maybe I looked like Menehem.
Sitting on a bench near the pastry stall, I tore off a piece of flaky bread with honey drizzled on top. It melted on my tongue, and I shivered. “I’ve never eaten anything this good in my entire life.”
Armande grinned and hugged me, and didn’t seem to notice when I stiffened and nearly spilled my cider. Sam reached over as if to steady my cup while Armande disengaged himself. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” said the baker.
“We’re just very careful with her hands.” Sam drew back, meeting my eyes briefly. “She burned them trapping a sylph that had me cornered. If I’m going to get her on the piano, she’ll need those fingers.”
Armande’s eyebrows rose, and he gave us a muffin. “Then I owe you. I’d been intending to take singing lessons soon, and I can’t get them from Sam if he’s dead. Do you bake, Ana?”
“Maybe?”
He filled my cider cup again. “Come by and I’ll show you a few things. I tried to teach Sam, but he just eats the batter.”
Sam gave an exaggerated sigh. “I was five and storing up for a growth spurt. You were practically starving me by making me wait for things to bake.”
Armande grinned widely.
When we’d finished breakfast and dropped our cups in the bin for recycling, Sam and I headed around the temple to an enormous white building set beneath it. A half-moon stair led up to a wide landing and a series of double doors, which were guarded by columns, crumbling statues, and iron trellises threaded with thorny vines. Roses, perhaps.
“Is that the Councilhouse?”