I was a fool. A romantic picnic with Danello and all I could think about was what the Duke was up to? Danello deserved better.
“What’s the pepper stuffed with?” I asked, scooting closer.
“Um…” He poked a finger into the breading. “Looks like fish.”
“The same fish?”
“Maybe, if it was a big fish.” He grinned.
I chuckled, the first laugh I’d had in, Saints, I couldn’t remember. It felt good. This was good. Me, him, together all alone for once, with no one trying to kill either of us. I needed more of this – lots more. “I meant the same kind of fish.”
“I know, but it made you smile.” He set the pepper on a plate and grabbed a knife from the basket. “We’ll split both. That way you won’t have to choose.”
Like I chose to leave Tali behind? My grin faltered. I hadn’t meant to think it, hadn’t wanted to think it. Shouldn’t have thought it, not with the sun and flowers and a cute boy bringing me food.
A sweet scent drifted past on the breeze. White ginger. Tali’s scent. No wonder I’d thought of her.
Danello looked at me, uncertain. “You OK?”
I nodded and he resumed cutting.
It hadn’t been my choice to leave her. Danello and Aylin had kidnapped me, carried me screamingout of Baseer, thrown me on Jeatar’s boat, and locked me in a cabin until we were far enough away that I couldn’t swim back.
That’s not the choice you regret.
No, it was the one I’d made my first night in Baseer, when I could have saved Tali from the tracker Vyand and kept her out of the Duke’s clutches. But Danello and Aylin had been captured, too, imprisoned in a Baseeri jail and facing execution. Their certain deaths had weighed against Tali’s life.
And I’d chosen them.
Tali had been in trouble for sure, but Danello and Aylin would have been killed in just a few hours. I’d thought I’d have time to go back for her. Thought I could save them all, but I’d been wrong. I’d left her in a city tearing itself apart with a man who wanted to turn her into a weapon and force her to kill.
“Here you go.” Danello handed me a plate, a smile on his face but worry in his eyes. “One half of a mystery-fish-stuffed pepper and one full fish cake.”
I took my food. The first bite tasted like rock, but I kept eating. He’d gone to so much trouble, and all for me.
Footsteps thumped over stone and I tensed. Another couple appeared but kept walking around the pond. They didn’t even look at us. Maybe we were far enough outside the farmhouse grounds that people didn’t recognise me. My name was a lot more famous than my face.
“It’s OK, Nya, you’re safe here,” Danello said softly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He wouldn’t, either. He’d face any soldiers the Duke sent after me. Watch my back no matter what I tried to do. Even when he disagreed with it.
“Thank you,” I said. I should have said more, but the words wouldn’t come. I looked at him, hoping he’d know how I felt anyway. Eyes say more than lips ever could. Danello had nice lips. I smiled.
He smiled back nervously and leaned towards me, just a little, as if waiting to see what I’d do. I leaned in as well, my heart pounding. Hoping he’d come closer, so I could go closer and—
“Excuse me?” a woman called, stepping out from under the trees.
Danello blew out a sigh and turned around. I frowned at her. She looked too nicely dressed for a refugee. A Baseeri merchant perhaps. A man stepped out next, his face scarred, three scratches on one side, forehead to chin, like a giant bird had clawed him. He looked more like a soldier.
“Yes?” Danello asked.
The woman smiled at us. “Have you heard about the Great Flash?”
“Great Flash?”
She nodded. “It happened in Baseer. A flash bright as the sun, caused by a girl who channelled the Saints’ power to crush the Duke’s palace.”
I shivered. She had it all wrong.
“Um, that’s not what happened,” I said. “It was a pynvium weapon that overloaded and flashed.”
Danello grabbed my hand. “Don’t say anything else,” he whispered.
“The Saints sing of this girl,” the woman continued. She glanced at the scarred man. “They gave her the power of Their light so she could save us from the darkness.”
I couldn’t even save my sister. How did they expect me to save them?
“She sounds, uh, great, but we need to go.” Danello inched away, tugging me with him. He kept one hand near the rapier at his hip.
“Were you there?” the man asked. His desperate gaze bored into mine. He reminded me of some soldiers I’d seen at the end of the first war – the ones who gave up fighting and sat inside the Sanctuary all day, praying for salvation and begging everyone around them to pray, too. Ones who were lost, angry, wanting help and blame in equal measures.
“Will you tell us what you saw?” he asked. “Share your story with us and others who believe as we do?”
My story was being shared quite enough already. “Sorry, I didn’t see anything.”
The woman and the scarred man frowned but nodded. “Truth is a hard stone to swallow,” he said. “If you want to share, you can find us in the east camp. Look for a red carriage with gold stars.”
Carriage? Maybe they weren’t merchants if they could afford a carriage. But they didn’t look like aristocrats.
“Thanks, we’ll keep that in mind,” said Danello. We backed away, ready to run if they so much as stepped towards us, but they left and headed deeper into the garden. I heard the woman speak again, probably to the other couple we’d seen earlier.
“What in Saea’s name was that all about?” I kept my voice low until we passed through the gate and into the safety of the open courtyard. If we needed them, three guards were within shouting distance.
“I’m not sure it was in Saea’s name at all. They sounded like those sainters who hassle people in the park by the Sanctuary.”
“The ones who think the stars are going to go out?” I’d seen them too, shouting to all who’d listen that the stars would go black and the dark would fall, but one light would shine bright enough to, oh, I don’t know, chase away the shadows or something. I never listened for long. Their rants always brought soldiers, and soldiers brought trouble.
“Yeah. Maybe Baseer has its own sainters,” Danello said.
“Who are ranting about me.” It was worse than the gossip and the whispers. What I’d done wasn’t a sign from the Saints. It had been an accident. I’d only been trying to stop the Duke’s weapon and keep it from killing half of Baseer.
“It’s not you personally. They’re just trying to fit their crazy beliefs on to what happened. They did the same thing with that lightning storm last summer, remember? The one that set all those villas on fire?”
“True. Fingers of the Saints or something.” No one had listened to them, and some had even laughed. It was a pretty silly name.
We reached the farmhouse and pushed open the kitchen door. Ouea, Jeatar’s housemistress, sat at the table, peeling mangoes. Two girls sat on either side of her, smaller