Jason

“Naomi.”

The sound of Esar’s sharp voice made Jason sit up from his slouch, even though it wasn’t his name that had been spoken. Now what did she do? he thought—and then he saw the twisted, misshapen armrests of the chair she’d been sitting in.

“Shit,” Jason whispered.

“What was that?” Tlaya asked. She was seated on the bench next to him with such prim, perfect posture—like a little girl in a nursery rhyme—that Jason felt a bit guilty for cursing in front of her.

“Nothing.” Jason noticed Kelsam exchanging a look with his husband before Esar and Naomi left the room. Jason would have liked to leave as well, but not to go with Esar and Naomi—especially not when she was turning chairs into some kind of awful abstract art or something. He just didn’t want to get mixed up in whatever these people were planning, either. It had nothing to do with him.

Ever since he’d arrived in Elorhe, it had been the same thing. He was just an outsider listening to strangers talk about their problems, and there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t even ask Tlaya questions about his father—their father—around these people. Unless this mess had something to do with him? No, nothing he’d heard seemed to relate to his father at all.

“Your name may still mean something to them,” Obrist was saying to Guennet.

“My name.” Guennet’s voice dripped with disgust. “But if it will save you and this Sanctuary, I’ll play the noblewoman for Amontel and his goons.”

“How will I ever thank you, my lady?” Netil bent over in a sarcastic bow, then cursed and clutched his head.

“Take it easy—” Obrist and Viande both jumped up to attend to him, but he waved them away.

“I’m fine.”

“Sit down, and quit being an ass, Netil. It’s not helping.” Guennet fixed the injured man with a chilling stare, and Netil returned to his seat. “I didn’t ask to be born into House Gabarias any more than you asked to be born on Amontel’s manor. But since I’m stuck with this name, I might as well use it until it doesn’t mean anything anymore.”

“And when is that day going to come?” Netil said.

“Sooner than you think, if we make the most of this opportunity.” Guennet smiled, even as she glanced again at the chair Naomi had ruined. She didn’t say anything about it, though she couldn’t have missed the weird way that the arms had been twisted. A knock on the door announced the arrival of the Devoted man who had accompanied them from the village earlier that day. He entered the room with a somber expression, rubbing the frayed threads of the end of his belt between his fingers.

“Lady Guennet, I’m afraid that—” He cut off as his eyes settled on Tlaya and Jason. “What are these children doing here?”

“They’re staying with me,” Guennet said.

“Well, they can’t stay here, in this room. Not while we’re discussing confidential matters.”

Kelsam opened his mouth to speak, but before he could begin, Tlaya jumped up and smoothed her skirts.

“I needed some fresh air anyway. Come on, Jason.”

Jason looked to Kelsam, who took a moment to think before answering. “Don’t go far. Stay within the Sanctuary.”

Jason followed Tlaya out into the twilight. They were alone, Esar and Naomi were nowhere to be seen, and it should have been the perfect opportunity for Jason to ask the questions that had been overwhelming him ever since Tlaya had spoken to him in English.

But he said nothing, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answers.

It was at least a relief to be out of that room, out in the open with the only other person who looked as out of place as he did. Even more out of place, because while Jason’s hair had been dyed red and he dressed in Elorhan clothing, Tlaya’s hair was still blond, and her clothing was unlike anything he’d seen in all their travels. Most Elorhans wore high-collared tunics of various lengths, sometimes ornately decorated but always tailored close to the figure. Tlaya wasn’t just wearing a dress, her skirt was so flouncy that she had to be wearing some kind of petticoat as well.

“Where did you find that outfit?” he asked.

“Huh?” Tlaya had been drifting towards the barrier that separated the Sanctuary from the Asprai lands like a moth enchanted by a lamp. The misty wall glowed with a faint golden light, stretching away into the distance and up into the sky, reflected back by the undersides of the gathering clouds.

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“Never mind.” Jason closed his eyes, dug through his brain for another question that seemed relatively safe. “Are you . . . the only one? Or do you have brothers or sisters?”

“There’s just me. At least, I thought it was just me until I found out about you.”

“How did you find out about me?”

“My . . . friend . . . saw you. He heard you say your father’s name.”

“Your friend?”

Tlaya made a pained expression. “I can’t tell you about him. Sorry.” She looked up at the sky as she spun in a slow circle.

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m just looking at the sky. The clouds. The . . . dark. I think it’s going to rain.”

Even as she was speaking the first raindrop splattered on Jason’s arm.

“Great. Should we go back inside?”

“I like rain.” Tlaya closed her eyes and stretched out her arms. “It never rained back home. Almost never. And when it did rain, it rained too much. It would just pour down and flood everything and it was scary. The rain here is . . . nicer. That’s how rain is supposed to be, isn’t it?”

Another drop landed on Jason’s nose, but a few raindrops weren’t enough to send him running for shelter. He decided to ask the question that was bothering him the most.

“You said you need my help. What do you want me to do? What makes you think I can help you—help our father?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the patter of raindrops.

Tlaya looked at him thoughtfully. “It’s . . . complicated. There’s a thing that the Dreamwalker wants, but he can’t get it, because you have to be pristine to get to it, and he’s not pristine. But our dad is. And so are you.” Tlaya came closer as she spoke, but she didn’t take shelter from the rain. Her soaked skirts clung and twined around her legs as she walked, and her hair was plastered flat to her forehead.

“Pristine?” Jason repeated. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Untouched by Rith. Untainted. Purely human.” Tlaya reached up to gently press his forehead with two fingers.

“You mean . . . just because I don’t have any vitricity, that makes me pristine somehow?” Jason asked.

“Exactly,” Tlaya said.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Well, it is hard to explain,” Tlaya sighed. “But that’s the reason you can help me. No one else can.”

“Help you to get this . . . thing?” Jason asked.

“Yes! He wanted Dad to take it, but you can take it instead.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come with me,” Tlaya said. She started toward the Asprai barrier. Jason followed hesitantly.

“The barrier blocks anyone who’s been touched by Rith,” Tlaya said. “You haven’t, so it won’t stop you. See?” She grabbed his hand and tried to make him touch the barrier. Jason drew his hand back. Part of him wanted to see if it was true, if the barrier really wouldn’t stop him, but he was too afraid to try.

“What are you trying to do?” he demanded.

“I have a key,” Tlaya said. “We can go through the barrier together and get the relic.”

“Relic—no. We can’t. I’m on my way home.”

Tlaya’s shoulders drooped. Jason turned to head back to the house.

“We don’t have to go this second,” Tlaya said. “But it shouldn’t take long. Only a couple of days.”

“A couple of days?” Jason repeated, stopping in his tracks.

“Jason, please?” Tlaya grabbed his hand and looked up at him pleadingly. She looked desperate, and that didn’t sit well with Jason, maybe because there was a big brother instinct awakening in him that he never knew he had. What was he supposed to do with that?

The rain was too much for Jason. He backed away to take shelter beneath the eaves of Guennet’s house. Maybe Tlaya could use her vitricity to keep herself warm when she was soaked to the skin, but he didn’t have that luxury.

“Okay, now I think we should go in,” Jason said.

“In a minute,” Tlaya said. “I am curious what they are talking about, too.”

“I don’t care what they’re talking about in there,” Jason said quickly. “I want to know about you. You just came into my life out of nowhere and you want me to go with you over—over there.”

Tlaya looked down at the ground. “What do you want to know? I can’t tell you everything, but I’ll try . . . I’ll try to tell you what I can.”

“My dad . . . our dad . . . is he a good person? Is he good to you?”

Tlaya nodded earnestly. “He’s a very good person. I love him so much. I wish you could have grown up with him, too.”

“I had my mom,” Jason said.

“Oh, I didn’t mean instead of your mom! I wish you could have had both of them.”

“But then you wouldn’t be here.”

Tlaya laughed. “You don’t know that. I mean, I probably wouldn’t be here, exactly, but . . . I’m so glad I found you. I am really starting to think that things will turn out all right.”

“Let’s go in,” Jason said. Tlaya was scaring him more than the oncoming storm, and he wanted to get away from the conversation. The Asprai barrier looked particularly creepy in the rainstorm.

“Yeah, let’s go listen in!” Tlaya added.

“You should get dried off, shouldn’t you?” Jason said uncomfortably.

Tlaya laughed. She sure did laugh a lot; Jason supposed that was probably a good sign. Even if she’d been raised under Kaethar’s thumb, her mother and father must have taken good care of her.

Jason’s father was a good person. That was a relief, somehow. But he had one more question as they went back into the house.

“The person you said would hurt your parents . . . was it Kaethar?”

Tlaya nodded morosely, but quickly brightened again. “You are right, I ought to go change into some dry clothes. Then I’m going to try to listen in on what the grown-ups are talking about.” She added the last part in a stage whisper and dashed off to her room.