“Why do you care?”
A tickle like floating dandelion seeds erupts beneath my breastbone. “Because you seem so accepting of him. Of Baten.” Accepting of someone like me, maybe. “And Perg . . . once he heals, maybe he could be accepted, too.”
Tayler goes wide eyed. “Heals from what?”
I think he fears disease, so I clarify. “Perg was in a caste tournament to better his status and was badly beaten by another trollis.”
Tayler frowns. “I see.”
“Tayler, where is—”
“Don’t ask,” he interrupts. “I won’t tell you where we live. Don’t try to follow me back.”
His harshness hurts, but I accept it. “Of course. You don’t know me. Not yet.”
He regards me again. “Not yet?”
I offer a smile, though I don’t know if he can see it. “Meet me again. In a week? I’ll bring you food, whatever I can carry out.”
He stiffens. Considers. “I need nine days. And . . . we need seeds.”
Surely I can find some on the farming level, even if I have to harvest them myself. “I’ll bring you seeds. But what we have—they’re cooler-climate shade flowers. They have to grow in the canyon.”
Tayler frowns. For a moment I think he’ll tell me the canyon is too far from his home, but instead he mumbles, “We’ll have to clear out the crag snakes.”
I lean forward. “Just meet with me again, here. Same time. Please?”
He hesitates but eventually relents. “Alone. No trolls.”
“I can’t leave without—”
“No trolls, if you want me to trust you,” he insists.
I swallow. Nod. I could likely hide Azmar again, assuming he’d return with me, but if Tayler is watching . . . I could ruin everything. I know the city inside and out. I can probably manage coming alone.
Tayler extends his hand, and I shake it, surprised at the hardness of his calluses. He is not yet a man, but he knows hard work.
I grip his fingers tighter. “Tayler, is there a Cosmodian, where you come from? A reader of the stars?”
His grip tightens. I release mine, and he pulls back slowly. Eyes me in a way that makes me think of Unach.
“Why?” he asks.
I hold his gaze. “I met one when I was young. A woman. I’ve been praying to meet her again someday. I’ve been to all the townships on my map”—on my father’s map, that is—“and I’ve never crossed paths with her. I don’t know her name.”
He chews on his lip, contemplating. There must be something, for a simple no would be an easier response.
“I’ll tell you,” he says hesitantly, “when we meet again.”
He whips his hand back and dashes away, again to the east, leaving me with blossoming anticipation. I’ve found her. I’m sure I’ve found her!
I wonder if the hidden settlement lies east of here, or if Tayler travels around so I won’t be able to guess where he’s headed. I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’ll meet him again. I’ll earn his trust. I’ll learn about Baten and the Cosmodian and a safe place to go, should my time in Cagmar end . . . poorly.
Touching my neck, I wince, though the bruises Grodd left there have healed. I force my hand back. This is good news. A good day. I will not let fear ruin it.
I turn back for the scraggly trees, careful in the darkness. Out of habit, I lift my head and find the South Star. The sun has slumbered long enough that the sky brims with stars, glittering and beautiful, orderly and chaotic. Still, the South Star blazes where it always does, pointing me back to my new home, promising me I’ll never be lost . . .
My steps slow as I peer into a pattern of stars I don’t recognize. And they’re . . . blurry. I blink to clear my vision, but it’s fine—everything else in the night sky is crisp. I squint again, almost able to make out Ufreya, the queen.
My footsteps stop altogether. The constellation isn’t blurring, it’s just overlapping with another. With Sankan, the oak tree. Just as Wiln’s almanac said it would.
A shiver courses up each arm, colliding at my neck, as though the gods themselves whisper in my ears. I’ve read that almanac so many times. I know its astronomy passages by heart. Every twelve years those constellations meet, either to bless us with fertility, or to curse us with war.
I look back the way I came. Even if Tayler lingered, I’d never pick him out among the shadows. Steadying myself with measured breaths, I continue into the trees. Azmar has lit a lamp, so after picking my way through a maze of elevated roots, I’m able to spot the light in the distance and work my way toward him.
Hearing twigs snap underfoot, Azmar stands and draws a knife from his belt, but he sheathes it immediately when the light falls over me.
“Thank you,” I say.
He looks over my head. “He came?”
“He did.” I relate the brief exchange with him. “I hope to earn his trust.”
“You’re meeting him again?” Concern lines Azmar’s brow.
No trolls, Tayler said. Do I risk that trust? I give the safest, truest answer I can. “I hope so.”
Azmar picks up the lamp, and we start back for Cagmar. We’re nearly to the edge of the forest when he says, “Do you wish to leave?”
I glance up at him, but he faces straight ahead. “Leave Cagmar?”
He gives a nearly imperceptible nod.
Would I leave, if Tayler invited me to his township? I’m not sure. But the choice, for now, is easy. “No. Other than Grodd . . . I’m content there.”
“Only content?”
I step over a raised root, drawing closer to him as I do so. “Yes. With you, and with Unach and Perg.” Encouraged, I ask, “Why, worried I’ll run off with a fifteen-year-old boy?”
He doesn’t respond. His guard is up, and in the poor light, I can’t read his expression. I may have overstepped my bounds. It’s easy to forget myself when we’re alone. I wonder if I should apologize, but that would be to acknowledge the overstepping, to highlight it, and the thought makes me curl in on myself.
Another thought presses into my mind. I promised. To tell Azmar, that is. That was the bargain. And yet when I open my mouth to explain, no sound emerges. My own fear clogs it. Azmar is different, yes, but I’ve met plenty of kind souls who couldn’t endure my truth. Outside of the council, which forced my hand, I’ve never willingly offered up my secret. First, because my father threatened all manner of suffering if I did—he couldn’t let others know the secret of his influence. And second, because it has always been the reason, one way or another, that my chances of a new home and a new family have broken apart.
If Azmar rejects me now, if I become just another casteless human wandering Cagmar in between work shifts, with no enclave to take me in and no trollis to speak to, I’ll wither away to nothing. I know I will. I’ve allowed too much hope to take root.
The stars warned me that my path would be a hard one, but if this turn proves too sharp, I might not have the strength to keep going.