“Oh.” I could hardly breathe. Once again, Sam had made me into something more important than I really was. “I don’t know what to say.”
He gave a wry smile and let his fingers dance across the piano keys. “You don’t have to say anything. Just play.”
Music flowed through the small parlor, like a river rushing around rocks and trees. While Sam played half-familiar melodies and whispers of something new, I found chords and countermelodies. Anguish flashed through Sam’s expression a couple of times. His piano was gone. His flute, violin, clarinet: all gone. We’d packed my flute—it would journey wherever we did—but the wound created by the loss of the others, it was still gaping.
We played until nightfall, when Stef came downstairs and we ate a small dinner of chicken and vegetables. I savored everything; it might be one of the last times we had hot, fresh food.
At midnight, our SEDs beeped in unison, and slowly, I untangled myself from Sam’s arms and legs. We’d fallen asleep on the sofa, music still heavy inside of us, but now it was time to let everything go. Home. Heart. Relative peace.
I switched my SED to silent and double-checked that my knife was in my coat pocket.
“We’ll leave our bags,” Stef said, hitching an empty backpack over one shoulder. “Whit and a couple others will come to get them. We need to grab the books and research, and we’ll meet them at the east guard station. There will be vehicles enough for all of us. Hopefully we’ll be far away from Heart before Deborl ever realizes we’re gone.”
It was the same plan she’d announced earlier. I nodded.
Outside, flecks of snow stung my face as I pulled up my hood and checked my SED. The program Stef had loaded earlier popped up, reporting a cluster of small earthquakes I hadn’t felt. Then, conscious that the SED light might attract the wrong kind of attention, I shoved the device into my pocket and took Sam’s hand, letting him guide me through the dark. The only light was the temple, still blazing unnaturally bright.
Our footsteps crunched on the thin snowfall, and a breeze hissed through the evergreens. “Here’s what will happen,” Stef said. “I’ve adjusted the security cameras in the Councilhouse so they won’t record us. Getting caught won’t matter for you, Ana, since they’ve already exiled you, but it does for Sam and me.”
How much, though? The majority of the Council had been killed.
How long would they argue about what to do before they took action against newsouls or accepted Deborl back into the Council? What if they made him Speaker? I shuddered.
“The other thing is the soul-scanners.” Stef turned us down another path. “I took a peek into the scanner logs. It looks like several Councilors went into one of the private archive rooms while you and I were stuck in the temple, and then again the other day after you had the meeting with them.”
The meeting where they’d kicked me out of Heart. “They had the temple books and research with them.”
“Exactly. It seems to me they must have been fetching something important from that room, like books or research. Maybe even the key. Unfortunately, that scanner is programmed to let only Councilors through that door.”
“Fortunately,” Sam said, his tone a smile, “we have you.”
“You do.” It sounded like she was grinning. “No one on the Council ever realized I always leave myself a secondary entry code for every building in Heart. I guess—” She stumbled over the words. “I guess they never will now.”
Grief twisted in my chest, and I couldn’t respond. Sine’s attitude toward me had changed once she became Speaker, but she’d still been more a friend than not.
Was there anyone left who would publicly oppose Deborl after what he’d done? Anyone who might be brave enough to stand up to him—Sarit and Armande excepted—was going with us tonight.
Stef was quiet for a while. She’d been very selective about the people she’d invited to the library earlier. She’d probably left behind some of her friends, because she wasn’t sure she could trust them.
Stef had chosen. She’d chosen me.
Humbled, I followed all the way to the market field, keeping an eye out for anyone. But the way was clear, and I heard nothing but the wind. Snow smothered sounds, making the world unearthly still. Templelight reflected off the snow; the market field was bright.
“Try not to think about it,” Sam murmured.
“Think about what?” I huddled inside my layers of wool and silk. My hood blocked my peripheral vision; I could see only straight ahead.
“The risks and consequences. Where we’re going after. Just focus on getting through this.”
I opened my mouth to argue that I hadn’t been worried about this part, but reconsidered. Though the research and books had belonged to me before Deborl took them, reclaiming them now still felt a little like stealing.
“So I take it you’ve broken into a lot of private archive rooms?” I asked.