24. Questions and Their Answers

The land soldiers stuck us in one of the bedrooms while we waited to be questioned. We weren’t sure how long it’d be, so we rested in shifts. The bed was a proper four-poster—the first I’d ever seen in this world, not even Ghitha had one—and it could easily sleep an adult and two children.

A chest at the foot contained a woman’s clothes, and there was a writing desk and cushion in the corner, above which a candle stone was embedded in the wall. A window also let it in some light, but not a lot since it looked out onto the space between residences.

We were instructed to leave the door open, and a guard stood outside. We weren’t under arrest, but the soldiers clearly wanted to make sure we didn’t go anywhere either.

After a couple of hours, a tired-looking Aslishtei showed up to escort me back upstairs to see if Thikilei was still around, which he wasn’t. The ghost must’ve been satisfied by whatever she’d done, and departed.

I asked about the injured kids, and she assured me that they’d be taken care of. Obviously, I had tons more questions, but didn’t get the chance to ask them. She dropped me back off with the rest of my team, and told us to continue waiting.

A bit later, Brother Ekthei showed up, and that turned out to be his actual name.

Brother Ekthei (Human)
Talents: Qi Mirror, Naturally Empathic

He was a portly man in his late thirties, with droopy eyes and the hint of burn scars under the sleeves of his jacket. He frowned mightily when he saw the lot of us all on the bed. It turned out that we could all fit if we were willing to get cozy.

“I should make clear that I’m not here to treat you,” he said, “but my hope is that you’ll let me examine your wounds so that I may compare them to the children’s.”

“Will you at least share your diagnosis?” Mumu asked.

Brother Ekthei thought a moment, and agreed.

The examinations lasted a good thirty minutes each—the time silently passing as we anxiously watched him place his hands on Tegen’s back first and then Mumu’s. At the end, he shook his head, the exact same way I’d seen doctors do it my previous life. Instinctively, my stomach sank.

“It is the same,” he said. “The damage is extensive; the meridians in the affected areas have been completely perforated and collapsed.”

It’d been a while since I’d encountered a word I didn’t know, and I continued listening with half an ear as Teila explained it to me.

“And the treatment?” Mumu asked. “What’s usually involved?”

“Weeks of patching the meridians, bit by bit.”

“How many weeks?” Mumu asked, a sense of dread worming its way through her spirit. “Before the Long Dark comes?”

“For a specialist like myself, yes. For others—” He shook his head.

The dread spread through the room, and I heard Teila gulp at the news.

“Can the injury heal naturally?” Tegen asked.

“Possibly, but it might take years, and the meridians would retain some damage, becoming scarred.”

“The alchemists—” Tegen began.

“Do have elixirs that can help,” Brother Ekthei said. “I can confirm it, but they are expensive—much more so than my lodge’s services—and the timing will be close.” He looked at us with some sympathy. “Are you both critical to your village’s defense during the Long Dark?”

Mumu nodded, but it was Haol who explained. “She is the master of our Hunter’s Lodge, the first in many years able to use both qi and mana.”

“Ah, you were counting on her for your lodge’s advanced spells.”

“Would a... monetary contribution help?” Mumu offered. “Perhaps to further your studies.”

Brother Ekthei nervously glanced at the door. “I cannot... the injunction.”

“It would be private,” Mumu said, hopeful. “No one else need know.”

“I truly cannot. The honored Aslishtei has already engaged me to heal the injured children. Her family will be adopting them, and their care is now her responsibility.”

Mumu’s face fell. “There’s nothing we can say or do?”

“Make peace with the Healer’s Lodge,” he said.

But that got us all shaking our heads, and there was nothing else Brother Ekthei could do. He left.

“There’s still the Alchemist’s Lodge,” Haol said. “We needn’t lose hope.”

“And another step beyond that,” I said, gesturing to my heart. “If you decide you’re willing.”

“How long would that particular treatment take?” Tegen asked.

Yuki perked up. We’ve started experimenting with one of the meridian’s in Ollie/Eight’s little toe, but it’s too early to tell. Not weeks, we don’t think.

“Likely faster than the healers,” I told the others, “but we won’t know for sure until we’ve had time to try things out.”

At that news, Haol went to hold Mumu’s hand, and they retreated to one of the room’s corners to murmur in each other’s ears. Tegen sat against the opposite wall to meditate, while Teila crawled under the bed’s covers. I was at a loss for what to do with myself, so I sat by the door to keep watch and keep Yuki company.

We’ve let Bihei know that Borba’s dead and we’re all right.

Thank you. I should’ve done it myself—

—but you were distracted. We know.

Do you really think you can fix what’s wrong with Mumu and Tegen?

Yuki snorted. Of course! Who do you think you’re dealing with. We’re Professor Yuki, the world’s foremost authority on qi.

Professor Yuki? Really? I asked, incredulous.

If we have a Dr. Otter, why can’t we have a Professor Yuki?

No reason at all, I suppose. Have at it.

A body wrapped in cloth was carried past the open door, followed by another and another, until all of the dead were transported from the leisteila down to the first floor. The scent of Borba’s qi lingered on all of them, except that last, which was soaked in it.

A soldier, trailing behind the train of bodies, approached. “I am here to tell you that the murderer known as Borba had no possessions with him other than a ruined pair of pants, a ruined shirt, and two necklaces. The first necklace belongs to the land soldiers, and the second is a gold pendant of a salu, which we understand belongs to another family. Both will be returned to their rightful owners. The clothes will be burned along with the body. Do you protest these decisions?”

Mumu and the other hunters had come to the door to watch the dead pass by. She shook her head. “We do not protest.”

“In addition,” the soldier said, “a preliminary investigation will be held into the deaths of those murdered by Borba. Since the investigation must include questioning of the master of a lodge, permission has been sought and granted for that master to be excluded from the interrogations of members of their lodge. Do you protest this decision?”

“Yes,” Mumu said, gritting her teeth.

“Your protest has been noted,” the soldier said. “Each of you will be interrogated individually. Wait here until you are called.”

When he’d gone, I asked, “Is everything going to be okay?”

Mumu blew out a breath, and said, “Maybe, probably. They’ll be restricted to asking about Borba and the murders, which we can speak truthfully about. If they try for anything else, protest and demand my presence.”

After that, more time passed, but I didn’t bother to check the time. It’d just make the waiting feel longer. Instead, I examined the construction of the bed, which turned out to have been assembled sashimono style—the Japanese joining wood without the use of nails. Back in my old life, I’d made a bench for the backyard like that as an experiment, and really enjoyed it. Maybe I should make a couple of pieces for Ikfael’s shrine. I had access to quality tools now.

The chest was in the same style, with wooden hinges even. I was opening and closing the lid to see how it was done, when another soldier came to the door.

“Teila of Voorhei, follow me.”

Teila poked her head out from under the bed’s covers. “What? I’m first?”

“You’ll follow me. The Honored Aslishtei is ready to speak to you.”

Teila glanced between her teammates in confusion; it was easy to forget that she was only nine-years old.

Mumu went over to her and knelt so that they were face-to-fave. “Just tell them what the five us of did, and it’ll be all right. Do you hear me? We’re a team, the five of us, and we take care of each other. We’ve done nothing wrong here.”

I saw Teila glance toward me. “I... yes, I can do that.”

Mumu helped her out of bed, and Teila took a moment to straighten her jacket and firm her shoulders before following the soldier away.

My worry must’ve shown, because Mumu came to sit beside me. She leaned in to rest her head on mine. “She’ll be fine.” And then much softer, in a whisper almost impossible to hear: “We’ve practiced keeping our secrets, just in case. All of us have.”

“When?” I signed.

“Before Inleio died. He told us that a little devil like you was bound to cause trouble, and we should be ready.” A tear dropped onto my forehead.

“He could be wise, our Inleio.”

“Yes,” Mumu whispered back.

###

About half an hour later—I’d gone back to checking my Status clock—the same soldier came for Tegen. When we asked about Teila, he said that she’d been taken to another room, that all of us would be taken there after our interviews. It was probably to keep those who’d been interviewed from sharing the questions with those who hadn’t.

As Tegen was being lead away, I remarked to my team, “The soldiers are thorough.”

Mumu nodded in agreement. “Land Knight Ikthia demands much from them. There are stories of other cities like Albei, and they are often more... loose.”

“Money for favors?” I asked.

“Bribery, yes, and other distasteful practices.” She crossed her arms. “A predictable land knight is a boon, as are laws that can be relied upon. With both, a village can properly plan.”

“For things like the Long Dark,” I said.

“Yes. We lost two of our element-touched, but we know we can rely on the land knight for reinforcements and the Soldier’s Lodge for mercenaries.” She tucked some hair that’d gotten loose from her braid behind an ear. “There are also accomplishments, like the hunt for the King of the Forest and the harvesting of the golden slumber—we don’t need to worry about Knight Ithia swooping in to steal from what we’ve gained.”

“We already pay taxes on those.”

“The point is that they’re stable. They go up, but not in response to sudden bounty.”

“I can’t imagine the lodges would like that. They’d protest for sure.”

“The lodges are the lodges,” Mumu said, “and the villages are the villages.”

“Which is why we’re struggling with the healers.”

“Power is tricky thing. I know personal power—we hunters train it every day—and Kesa is teaching me about political power. Our land knight has both.”

“And uses them on behalf of the people... that’s what it sounds like anyway.”

Mumu nodded. “Yes, although I’m also learning that leaders—even admirable ones—are not perfect.”

I glanced over at Haol and noticed that he’d fallen asleep sitting up, his chin resting on his chest. I tilted my head in his direction, and Mumu smiled to see him like that.

“You’re looking forward to getting married,” I noted.

“It’s practically done already,” she replied. “I’m over at the family house almost every night.”

We fell silent at that, each of thinking our own thoughts, kept company by the light snores coming from Haol’s direction. I worried about the questions being asked of my teammates and the ones that would be asked of me.

I didn’t smell any smoke, so I didn’t expect any forced truth-telling, but who knew what kinds of tricks Aslishtei had up her sleeves. Or, more accurately, in her hoops.

There was still so much I didn’t know about this world, which reminded me—

“I have a question,” I said.

“Of course you do. What is it, Little Pot?”

“I’m still confused about the details of when healing is allowed and when it’s prohibited.”

With a grimace, Mumu stood to pace. “It’s no wonder. This is the one area of the law that’s vague. Normally, a lodge’s area of responsibility is strictly enforced—do you know that word, enforced?”

I gestured for her to keep going.

“Yet, there is one big exception: almost any ability or talent can be used to aid one’s family, including healing ones, as long as no harm comes to others. That’s so people can build their own furniture without getting in trouble with the artisans, hunt their own deer and rabbits to feed their families, and so on. Now, if they tried to sell these things and they weren’t members of the right lodges, then they’d get in trouble.”

“And that includes healing?” I asked.

“It does. And there’s another exception just for it—”

“Oh, Vorkut mentioned that healing is allowed in emergencies... which explains how the lodge can safely use the spell when its members go hunting.”

“It’s more than that, Little Pot. The lodge is another family—you’ve heard the saying before, yes?”

I nodded to show that I had.

“This saying more than an expression of the bonds between us. There is legal weight behind it, although the ones doing the weighing are the land knight’s representatives. That means different villages and towns will have different interpretations of the law, but for us, we can safely heal our lodge brothers’ and sisters’ wounds, even if it’s not an emergency.”

“This is the vagueness you mentioned earlier,” I said, clarifying. “Wait, what about people not in the lodge?”

“Surely that doesn’t happen,” Mumu said.

“I’m pretty sure it does,” I said. “Just a couple of weeks ago, I fixed Old Man Wahashtei’s broken ankle. He’d been yelling at the Weret’s kids, not watching where he was going, and took a spill.”

Mumu paused her pacing to come kneel in front of me. As she spoke, she looked over her shoulder towards the open doorway. “You are a good child, but you must be confused. Maybe it was s dream. What you are describing doesn’t happen in a law-abiding village like Voorhei.’

“Oh.” Oohhh. “You’re right. Of course. How silly of me. But then—” I whispered softly, “What about the reeve and village head? Do they... have these kinds of dreams too?”

She whispered back, “A wise leader knows what their people need to flourish, and we of Voorhei are blessed with wise leaders.” She looked away. “At least in this.”

So, what happens in Voorhei, stays in Voorhei? Got it.

“Just to be clear though: if someone broke the law flagrantly, they’d have to leave the village? They'd go out into the woods to set up... what was it called... a mender’s hut?”

“That’s true, but where did you learn this?” Mumu asked.

“From the lodge master in Voorsowen. She plans to trade with Ikfael for the Healing Water spell.”

Mumu closed her eyes and sighed. “I understand her decision.”

“Mmm... me too.”

Mumu sat beside me once more, and we fell into silence, my thoughts circling around what I’d just learned, and her spirit restless with her worries. Briefly, I checked on Ifkael’s statue, but the otter appeared to be sleeping. Being one with the stone drained her in a way I’d never seen before, and it wasn’t her spending qi or mana to do it either. The talent didn’t work that way, at least that was my understanding.

My actions roused from her thoughts. “Can I ask... how the spirit of the land is doing? Has she recovered from protecting you?”

“A little,” I said, “but her spirit’s still so dim. I need to give her more gifts.”

“We can arrange for the other hunters to do so too,” Mumu said. “We are all grateful she saved your life. The village can also make a special offering—”

A soldier came to the door asking for Haol. Mumu went over to wake him, and whispered in his ear a bit before he left. As he passed by, I noticed his ears were red.

“What’d you say to him?”

Mumu’s smile in response was a small one, tired and fragile. “Only that I’d make sure to reward him for putting up with my behavior for the past few days.”

“So things are going well between you and Haol and Dena?”

Mumu blushed, the heat rising from her chest up her neck and onto her cheeks. “Mmm... the two of them are very sweet and attentive. It will be a good marriage in many ways.”

I smiled to see her so bashful. “It’s good to be in love. If Haol gets ahead of himself, though, you come see me. I’ll give him a talking to.”

I didn’t think Haol would—he was a good man—but sometimes marriage did funny things to people, and I wanted Mumu to know she could count on me to intercede if needed. I’d been through a lot in my own marriage, and seen many others succeed and fail around me.

“Make sure you set establish on who is responsible for what,” I said, “and that’s especially true for anything related to money. You’re saving, right? Please tell me you are.”

Mumu looked at me strangely, and I realized I’d gotten carried away with my advice, that it’d be incongruous with my eight-year-old body. I couldn’t help myself, though. It really was important for Mumu, Haol, and Dena do those things. A nest egg early could mean the difference between a family financially surviving tragedy and bankruptcy, except there was no such thing in this world—people too far into debt were sold into slavery.

“Sometimes, Eight, you are very odd.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “There are times I can’t help myself. Just know that it comes from love.”

Mumu watched me, her eyes on mine. “I see that.”

“Good, I’m glad.” I paused to give her time to change gears. “Now, about saving money—”

“Yes, yes, I am already doing so,” she said, laughing in spite of herself.

“And if Haol starts acting up?”

“Dena and I will take care of it ourselves,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “We will put him in his place.”

“Not too much, I hope. The key is finding a balance in the relationship—”

“Eight—”

“Yes?”

“I am not going to take marriage advice from an eight-year old!”

###

The land soldiers left me for last, but eventually it was my turn to be questioned. They’d taken over the dining room for it, with Aslishtei seated at the head of the table and the blue songbird hopping about in front of her, almost like he was really alive.

Error
Not a valid talent vessel.

The summon wasn’t real, though, at least not according to the System. How does that work? I wondered. And why did the undead hold onto some talents, but not ghosts. Spirits like Ikfael had them, after all. There seemed to be a blurriness in the line between what was considered alive and what was dead, which may very well have been true.

Would you like to focus now? Yuki asked. We are about to be interrogated.

I pointed out to them that the room lacked smoke, and we’d only have to worry about the songbird. They, in turn, pointed out Little Red, who was perched atop a large cabinet in the corner, watching the proceedings.

We don’t know what that one does. It... she can see the Camouflaged, but what else?

I frowned at that, and checked around the room. All I saw were a couple of soldiers standing at the ready, and a tired-looking Aslishtei. She had a bowl of something hot and steaming cupped in her hands.

Watching her drink was fascinating—the way her beak went into the bowl, and her head tilted back to let the liquid slide down her throat. No one else in the room blinked to see it, just me.

A cushion had already been set out for me a couple of places down from Aslishtei, so I made my way over to sit down. She looked like she’d aged five years since I last saw her.

“It’s been a hard day, hasn’t it?”

Aslishtei nearly choked on her drink. “You are very strange boy, do you know that?”

“Funnily enough, you’re the second person to tell me that today.”

“I suspect I won’t be the last either.” She paused to examine me, her dark eyes glinting. With a sigh, she said, “Tell me about the attack on your life last night.”

“What?” I asked.

“Someone shot you with a crossbow and used poisoned ammunition. Your fellow hunters told me about it, but I’d like to hear your version of events.”

I’d prepared myself for talking about Borba, but not the assassination attempt. She’d caught me by surprise, which was likely her intention.

“All we know,” I said, “is that the poison resisted healing, and that a bunch of healers showed up shortly afterward. Given the danger, we didn’t stick around to track down the assassin, but we do know that it wasn’t Borba—he didn’t know how to use a crossbow.”

“You’re certain of that?”

“Me? No, but Mumu is and I trust her on it. Are you investigating?” I asked in turn.

“Of course,” she responded. “Keeping the peace is part of a land soldier’s responsibility.”

“And it’s the healers who are responsible? The other hunters think that it may be a faction within their lodge setting up another—causing trouble for them and me at the same time.”

“I think,” Aslishtei said, “that you ask many questions, when I should be the one asking.”

I couldn’t help smiling, even as heartsore as I was. “My reputation—”

“—is that you are a Little Pot of Questions, I’ve heard it,” Aslishtei said. “And I’ve also looked over your spirit reading from the temple—yours and all the members of your team. You are quite the talented group, aren’t you?”

“The best in our lodge,” I said, puffing out my chest.

That was a bit more ego than I usually allowed myself, but when I checked my Status, it was clear of any negative conditions. I must’ve just been tired. The time spent waiting had helped, but it hadn’t been exactly been restful.

“You have no other insights into the identity of your attacker?” Aslisthei asked.

“Just that they had a way to hide themselves.”

“Unfortunately, that describes far too many assassins, bodyguards, and mercenaries to be of help.”

I shrugged. What was, was, and no amount of wishing would make a difference. “If we learn anything, we’ll share it with you.”

Aslishtei quirked her head in response. “That was a lie.”

My eyebrows rose. “Nonsense. I was telling the truth.”

“Another lie.”

“I have every intention of cooperating with the land soldiers.”

“That’s true,” she said, tapping her bowl in thought. “You may have the intention, but the reality underneath is different. You are lying to yourself as much as me.”

My jaw dropped. “Your songbird can tell? That’s... that’s amazing!”

“Her name is Little Blue, and you don’t deny it?” Aslishtei asked.

I shrugged in reply. “It’s your magic—only you’re going to know how accurate it is—but the truth is... yeah, I probably want a bit of revenge on my own. That’s natural, don’t you think?”

Aslishtei’s eyes grew darker. “A bit of revenge you say, like for example the murder of a whole family?”

I’d been enjoying the back-and-forth banter, perhaps treating it more like a game than I should’ve, but her question was a sudden punch to the gut. I looked down—my hands were mostly clean, having been splashed with water after the fight, but some blood had gotten under the nails. I wasn’t sure whose it was—probably a mix to be honest.

“I wouldn’t blame you for wanting revenge,” I said finally. “Brother Ekthei told us that you’re adopting the surviving children.”

“Yes, my family will care for and nurture their talents.”

“Will you love them too, like they’re your own?”

Aslishtei opened her beak to reply, but then closed it. She started and stopped again, then finally said, “The ways of the Peltwei are strange to outsiders, but perhaps you will understand—the children are already kin. By adopting them, we are recognizing that truth and bringing them deeper into it.”

A worry I’d tucked behind my heart eased. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“You are, aren’t you?”

I nodded. “Mmm.”

“A strange boy indeed.” Straightforward, as if letting go any pretense, she leaned forward to ask, “Do you know if your Borba had any prior dealings with Thikilei or his family prior to their deaths?”

“None,” I said, doing my best to match her tone.

“Is there any reason you can think of that would cause him to target them?”

“Only that he was likely attracted to their magic. The more powerful his victims, the more he could steal from them.”

“That’s my suspicion too. From what we’ve gathered, your Borba didn’t attend the wedding itself. Instead, he’d been passing by as people arrived, marking them then, and later sneaking back to infiltrate this house. During our marriage celebrations, our families have a tradition of demonstrating our spellcasting, and it seems Borba had hoped to steal from it with his ability.”

I nodded along as she spoke, and it all made sense to me. It’d just been bad luck that did the family in—that Borba had been nearby and that they’d caught his attention. Well, bad luck and Voorhei’s decision to turn him to a mule and keep him alive afterward.

“Any thoughts on what I just said?” Aslishtei asked.

“Just that you’re probably right.”

With a sigh, Aslishtei leaned back, propping herself up with her hands. It was a surprisingly informal pose.

“Then I suppose we’re done,” Aslishtei said. She gazed at Little Blue, as if in thought, and then asked, “Oh, but before you go, is there anything you’re not telling me that I would be interested in knowing?”

Yuki’s qi waved to get my attention. She’s trying to surprise you again. That’s the pattern she’s been using for her questions. Think before you answer.

“I imagine there are lot of things,” I said, slowly. “For example, the lodge’s secrets, but I’m not allowed to share those. I suppose there are more personal things, like my favorite foods and colors—it’s blue, by the way—but those are only relevant if we become friends. I’d like us to be friends, that might be surprising given how we first met, but I find you and your magic intriguing.”

Aslishtei stared, disarmed but my sudden open-heartedness. She turned to Little Blue, but I knew what she’d find: everything I’d said was true, including the desire to become friends. Of course, I was still upset about the forced truth-telling—the experience had been miserable—but everything else about her and magic was fascinating. And I refused to let a grudge get in the way of getting to know someone amazing. Life was too short for that, even when you had two of them.

“You really are the strangest boy,” she said.

“Which only makes me more interesting to get to know,” I said with a smile.

“What I’d like is for you reveal what you are hiding,” Aslishtei said.

“Nothing related to the murders committed by Borba. And, if you’re trying to get at anything beyond that, I’m pretty sure my lodge master needs to be present. I want to be your friend, but I’m not going to roll over for you.”

Aslishtei made an annoyed sound—a kind of clacking of her beak. “Then at least tell me what mix of dark to silver you use, as well as the creatures who contributed.”

I’d been paying attention, even without Yuki’s warning, but her question still caught me off-guard. “What? Why do you want to know?”

“Your mana is visible to me,” she said, gesturing to Little Red, “and I can see the second set of meridians in your body. That’s a powerful way to stray. Did it pass down through your family?”

I chose my words carefully: “My family never strayed, never used darklight, and neither have I.”

“That’s impossible,” Aslishtei said, checking Little Red. “Unless this is a dusk artifact from long ago resurfacing?”

“I don’t understand what that means.”

“In other words, a talent.” Aslishtei leaned forward, and her voice turned vehement. “Have you never questioned where talents came from? It’s darklight that does it—twists us out of shape, as well as our children, our children’s children, and so on. Over time, we adapt, and make it our own. All the impossible things our talents do for us, it was because an honored ancestor strayed from the path. Straying from the path is the path. That’s the secret the world speakers won’t tell you. We stray, and we bring darklight’s gifts back to humanity. That is the sacred role all the lost peoples play.”

Her words shocked me, but I immediately protested: “Not all talents. Some come from what we do and practice in life.”

“Yes, that’s true, but the extraordinary ones? They come out of the dark.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” My thoughts scattered as I tried to wrap my head around the idea that darklight wasn’t inherently bad. Could Aslishtei be right—she certainly seemed convinced, and there was definitely evidence of ritualized darklight practices among the lost peoples. Those practices had to provide some benefit beside easy leveling... Yes? No? Maybe?

“My family,” I started, running the through the words in my head first, “has stories of our ancestors practicing magic. In them, the practices came from the spirits of the land, and were then passed down from generation to generation.”

“Your Mulallamu says that you are an orphan. That you have no other family left.”

I licked my lips. “I’m the only one on this world, yes.” We were moving onto dangerous ground, and my mind raced to anticipate her next questions. I also resolved to cut the interrogation short if I saw no good way through.

At this point, we were well outside the bounds of the murder investigation. My continued participation was purely to build up good will, but I’d abandon it if that’s what was needed to protect my secrets.

Aslishtei stroked her beak as she considered me, her expression thoughtful. Finally, she sighed, and said, “Have you given thought to your marriage prospects? There are several youngsters in my family that may be a good match for you.”

“I... what... no?”

“From what I saw of your spirit reading, the potential within you appears to be latent, but perhaps we can bring it out.”

“I’m too young to think about marriage,” I said.

“No one is too young, not when valuable talents are at stake.” Aslishtei looked at me like I was something shiny that’d caught her eye. “But you needn’t worry—we’re not like villages, marrying as soon as we’re able. You can wait until you’re twenty or even twenty-five, but any longer and people will talk.”

“Is that so?” I said, flabbergasted.

“You will need to meet the children. I will make the arrangements.”

“But I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“You want to be my friend? Be their friend first.”

“And if we never get married? If I say no?”

Aslishtei’s expression turned sly. “I have taken your measure, Eight the Little Pot of Questions. You will not say no.”

###

It was about four in the afternoon before I was released to join my team. They were waiting for me in another of the bedrooms, and quickly gathered around to make sure I was all right. Which I was, just a little discombobulated from the weird turn the interrogation had taken.

So, I briefed my team on what had happened, and their concern turned to scowls by the end.

“She is trying to steal you,” Haol said.

“You have to say no,” Teila said, jumping in.

“Of course, he will,” Tegen added. “Our Eight is loyal to Voorhei.”

“I. Am. Too. Young.” I glared at my friends, and drove the point home. “I’m too young to make a decision. Too young to even think about it.”

“But others will be thinking about it,” Mumu said. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed all the times you’ve been invited for tea and corn cakes?”

“I’ve noticed,” I said, sullen. “And started declining when I realized what was happening.”

“Oh?” Teila said, surprised. “Everyone just assumed you’d made a decision and were keeping it to yourself.”

My jaw dropped. “No.”

“None of us wanted to intrude,” Tegen said. “We know how much you appreciate your privacy.”

“If you need advice,” Haol started.

But I interrupted him. “Can we please not talk about this now? I mean, it’s weird. We killed Borba not long ago.”

Tegen put a hand on my shoulder. “Death is death, and life is life. One will not stop for the other.”

“But this is a conversation that can wait,” Mumu said. “Let us at least get away from this place first.”

“To the inn?” Tegen asked.

“The lodge,” Mumu said, then raised a hand to stop his protests. “The grandmaster has probably already been informed about what’s happened, but we shouldn’t wait to give our own report.”

None of us could argue with that, so when the permission to leave came, we trooped downstairs. Looking outside, we saw that it’d started to drizzle, which apparently didn’t deter any of the people standing around gawking at the house. A cart was out front stacked with the wrapped remains of the dead.

We had a couple of hours of daylight left. “Maybe we could wait until dark?” I offered. “We’ll be harder to spot.”

“We’ve had time to recover enough qi for Camouflage,” Mumu said. “We’ll sneak through the crowd, meet in the street opposite, and make quick time for the lodge. I’ll lead, but Eight will take the tail, so that he can track us with his spirit eyes and make sure we’re not followed. Understood?”

We all nodded along, and disappeared from sight before heading out. The light rain rain gave us away, but we moved quickly, making it seem like a strange breeze was blowing.

Briefly, I noticed Little Red perched on window sill watching us leave.