“It was more like fifteen, and you’d have known where I went.”
“That’s not the point.” He started to walk around me, but I didn’t move. “Come on.”
“Why are you mad?”
He faced me, looking at me like I was the stupidest person in the world. “Were you in the same meeting I was?”
“Yes.” I crossed my arms.
“No,” he growled, “you weren’t. You completely left us for a while. People said your name five times before you finally joined us again, and even then, you were barely there. What were you thinking? You knew how important it was to make a good impression. Next time you want to doze off, do it somewhere the Council isn’t deciding whether or not you can stay in Heart.”
I staggered back, and my spine hit the wall as I stared up. His face was flushed with anger and disappointment, and I couldn’t think of a good defense, aside from the truth.
“You don’t know what it’s like.” Anything louder than a whisper and my voice would shake. “You have no idea what it’s like to be surrounded by people more than two hundred times your age, all judging and deciding whether or not you’re worthy enough to live in the city they just found lying around one day. None of you can understand. I’m alone, Sam.”
His anger cracked; pity showed through, and I almost stomped off, but he said, “You really will be alone if you’re not careful, Ana.” In spite of the harsh words, his tone was gentle. I wondered which was the lie.
“Threatening to give up on me already? I didn’t ask you to take me in.” My eyes hurt, swollen with memory of this morning, and anger and betrayal now. “I didn’t ask you to do anything for me.”
His throat jumped when he swallowed. “They threatened to take you away. From me.”
The wall at my back blocked further retreat. “They can’t.”
“Li has returned to Heart.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“It’s common knowledge that she doesn’t want you, so the Council won’t do anything yet. But if I can’t control you—Meuric’s words—they will take you away from me. If you’re lucky, you’ll go back with Li and continue the training we had planned. We wouldn’t be allowed to see each other.”
I felt faint. “And if I’m not lucky?”
“You’ll be exiled, not just from Heart, but from Range.” He took a long, shaking breath. “This isn’t going to be easy. I never said it would. All the same, you need to try harder. I don’t want to lose you.”
If the wall hadn’t been holding me up, I might have fallen. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“No one does.” He closed his eyes, and the line deepened. “I don’t want you to feel alone, either. I know there isn’t much I can do. I know I’m one of everyone else—”
“It’s okay.” I wanted to hug him, or apologize for yelling. Something. It wouldn’t help, though, and after realizing he had more in common with Sine than me, I just— I couldn’t right now. I hugged myself.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered again.
And I didn’t want to be lost, or put back with Li, or exiled where sylph and other creatures roamed. “I’ll try harder.”
.....................................................................
Chapter 14
Recognition
THE LIBRARY HAD its own wing of the Councilhouse. If not for the conversation with Sam, I’d have been giddy when he heaved open the mahogany doors and we entered the enormous chamber.
The walls were bookcases, and every shelf was full.
There were no separate rooms for different sections, like I’d imagined, but high bookcases gave the illusion of privacy in corners or on balconies over the main floor. Solid mahogany tables dotted the empty spaces, along with delicate lamps with stained-glass shades. Tiny sparrows and squirrels glowed.
Soft rugs covered the aisles; hardwood floors peeked from beneath the edges. I stepped over diamonds and snowflakes, inhaling the scent of leather and ink and dust.
“Maybe,” I said, turning to find Sam watching me explore, “we could just move in here.” The heavy air blanketed my words, even though the chamber was a dozen stories tall. “We could move the bookcases in the middle of the floor for the piano.”
He made a noise that was not quite a laugh and let the door close behind him. “The acoustics are terrible, though. And where would we sleep?”
I swept my hands through the air, toward the giant cushiony chairs and sofas, blankets draped across their arms and backs. Subdued, velvety colors matched the wood all around. Everything was so cozy and sleepy; I couldn’t imagine why people weren’t fighting to stay here forever.
“But the acoustics,” he protested.
“We’d rearrange things to help.” I dropped my head back and relaxed. “Where’s the section on music history? I’m sleeping there.”
He gave me a look I couldn’t decipher.