She shrugged. “The stories vary. Some say the spirits spoke inside our heads and gave us a message. Others say Os-Woorin itself rose from the lake, a glistening and magnificent being, and spoke in a great, booming voice that all could hear. But no one has seen such a thing in so long, we do not know for sure.”
“And if your lake spirit spoke now, and told the army to stop attacking? Tain needs to be able to speak to the rebels if there is going to be any chance at stopping this. Could your lake spirit give him that chance?” I smiled, but was only half-joking. The things I’d seen and felt, first at the base of the walls and then again at the fall of the lower city, couldn’t quite be explained. It was unlikely there were powerful beings hidden in the water, but the idea didn’t seem as impossible as it would have a month ago.
She regarded me seriously. “I suppose it could, if it so wished. But I am … I am not trained in the handling of fresken, though once I was told I would have the aptitude for it.” She dropped her gaze to the side, giving me the sudden sense that she was hiding something, though perhaps it was just suppressed anger at having been denied the learning she had clearly wanted. Her voice sounded fainter when she finally added, “Handling fresken without the instruction of a Speaker is forbidden. Without training, how could I know how to persuade a small spirit, let alone a great water spirit?”
“I think you could persuade anyone of anything,” I said, and she returned my smile. We sat there in silence awhile and I shut my eyes, enjoying the new peace humming between us.
Eventually I found myself saying, “Proofing, it’s called. What I do. And it’s not only because it’s tied to my family’s honor. I do it because Tain’s my Chancellor and my friend, and he’s in danger. Whoever killed our uncles is trying to kill him, too.”
“But he does not want you to continue?”
Apparently any conversation I had could be prey to An-Hadrea’s excellent hearing and her ability to hide her tall form in unlikely spaces. “No.”
“He says this because he loves you, yes? And he does not want to put your life before his.”
“Yes. He means well. He’s a good man—better, I think, than any of the Council knew when he took over. Maybe better than his uncle knew, too. But he’s thinking as a good man and a good friend, and not as a Chancellor. Some or all of the most powerful people in the Council are the ones responsible for what’s happened out on their estates. If Tain died, even if we somehow broke the siege without killing one another, there would be no one to hold them accountable, no reparations for you, no conciliation. Without him, we have no hope.”
She bit her lip, her head cocked to one side. “I suppose he thinks he would not be the Chancellor that you need, if he did not care about his friend’s life.”
“I don’t mind him caring,” I said. “Our families have always cared about each other. I don’t expect him to view my life cheaply. But he’s seeing only half the picture, thinking only about how he’d feel if I died.”
“But you, too, are looking from the other half. You are thinking only about how you would feel if he did.”
The truth of it hit me like a barb in my chest. If the poisoner reached Tain without me stopping them, I would have failed in my duty, and the city would be doomed. But, honor aside, the true pain, the true fear, was the thought of losing my best and only real friend, the only person outside my family who truly knew me, who understood how I worked inside and didn’t judge me poorly for it. Who would I be, without his friendship? What would I do, without my role at his side?
“I suppose you’re right, An-Hadrea.” I stared back at the water, no longer able to meet her shadowy gaze.
The small puff of her breath against my cheek alerted me that she had rolled close, and I turned with a start. She lay propped on her side, her face close to mine, and silvery moonlight illuminated the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. “Hadrea,” she said, and for the first time, her eyes held a trace of vulnerability. “You may call me Hadrea, Jovan.”
“Hadrea,” I tried, frozen on the spot. Her skin smelled like oranges.
She smiled. “I like the way you say it,” she said.
And then she kissed me.
* * *
After a night filled with dreams of boons asked of and granted by strange watery men, I woke early and picked my way through my crowded apartments, trying not to disturb any of the sleeping people. Only after stepping outside did my heavy cloak of anxiousness lighten. So absorbed was my mind with thinking about Hadrea that it hadn’t had the space to think about the encroachment or the change to my careful routine.
I checked on the new food production hubs first, and found them running smoothly. We still had stores of millet, dry scarlet beans, rice, and some salt, but everything else had been run down to the dregs. The sealed cases in cool storage still held some cheese and a small, mismatched collection of bindie eggs, and our lutra and oku still produced milk. Tain had warned the Council yesterday we would be searching everyone’s homes, so today we welcomed “anonymous donations” at the collection points, hoping to shake out some hoarded supplies. One of the cooks told me he’d already had parcels left by the door early this morning.
That finished, I headed to the Manor, feeling strangely lighthearted and wondering whether Hadrea would appear. She’d vanished so quickly after the kiss last night, I didn’t know what to expect on seeing her again. I passed Marco on my way to report to Tain, on the front steps of the Manor, and greeted him. “Is the training going well?” Most of the Warrior-Guilder’s time since the retreat had been spent drilling civilian groups in the use of hand-to-hand weapons.
He shrugged. “I don’t know about that, Credo. Some are improving. Some resent being present, and are sullen and disrespectful. Some are trying, but they are barely strong enough to hold daggers, let alone anything bigger. Their lives have been soft, without physical labor.”
Athletes and certain tradespersons had the musculature and coordination to respond to the training, but so many Silastians lacked those physical skills. They weren’t the kind of thing you could learn in a few months, let alone a few weeks. “I know it must be frustrating, working with people like us.”
Marco patted my shoulder with a smile. “I am a teacher. If I grew frustrated teaching, I would not be much of one. In any case, in these times, what satisfaction is there better than the satisfaction of a job done well? They’ll do the best they can.”
“That’s all we can ask,” I said, but we both knew it wasn’t enough.
Inside the Manor, Argo directed me to the Council room, where a bleary-eyed Tain and Eliska pored over a model of the bridge tower fortifications set up on the great table. As I sat down to join them, Eliska offered me a dried fig from a small jar.
“Part of the food ‘donations’ Argo found this morning,” she said, taking one for herself. “Along with a few bottles of spices—cinnamon and barbanut, I think. I suppose one of the Families had them hidden.”
“I wonder what we’ll find in the search,” Tain said grimly.
Eliska chewed with impolite delight. “Honor-down, I haven’t had anything sweet in weeks.”
I took one, only then noticing Tain had a piece beside him. I glared at it, then him, and he glared back.