Kindred looked down at her burned hand, the golden shoots dotting it.
“Hearthfire burn.”
“Can you move it?”
“I’m . . . not sure.” Kindred flexed, and her fingers responded, although delayed and only a little. “Some, I guess.”
Seraph was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “You burned your hand before you got here?”
Kindred nodded, and a smile spread across Seraph’s face, astonishment mingled with sheer joy.
“With a burned hand, you outran war vessels from your own city, navigated the Roughs, cut through the thistle pass, performed a perfect dive below one of our ships, and managed to keep your vessel afloat long enough for everyone to get off safely?”
Seraph leaned forward, his hands upon Kindred’s shoulders, his eyes wild with happiness.
“Kindred! I’ve never heard anything so incredible in my whole life!”
A giddy giggle bubbled up from Seraph, and Kindred couldn’t help but smiling. No one on The Errant knew enough about hearthfires to understand what had happened as Seraph did. In fact, Kindred had long since become used to and accepting of a world that cared little for the work of hearthfire keepers beyond whether they could execute orders, like a dependable tool.
It was strange to be recognized, to be seen.
“Where is everyone?” Kindred asked.
“The ones from the Healing Glade are back. Captain Caraway went with a few of the councillors, something about a defense meeting. Little Wing too, though she wasn’t too happy about it. Ragged Sarah, Quixa, and Scindapse are all at their tasks—Quixa with the sail weavers, Scindapse the cooks, and Sarah above with the crow-callers.”
Cora stood and set her cup on a table nearby.
“And I actually ought to move along too. Bilge cleanup for me.” Cora shook her head, disgusted, before growing serious again. She cut her eyes to Seraph for a moment, but whatever message Cora was trying to send, he wasn’t receiving.
“Look,” Cora said, with a sigh, kneeling before Kindred. “I still don’t trust you. None of us do. I don’t know if we can. But what you agreed to do for the Council to get us a ship, all that stuff you figured out—I think that must have been a big part of why they agreed at all. And so . . . thanks.”
She didn’t offer a hand, but she did give Kindred a nod, her eyes open and honest, before she left.
“I suppose we also ought to get to work,” Seraph said, standing and offering Kindred a hand up. She took it and immediately regretted it. As she rose, she could feel her heartbeat slamming in her temples, and the sway and sweep of nausea threatened to pull her under.
She sank back down, allowing her head to fall into the crook of her arm.
“Oh, of course, your head.” Seraph said. “I’m so sorry! I’ll get you some water.”
She heard him shuffling around, moving into the kitchen area.
“Oh,” he said, voice quiet. “Your water stores for the day are gone. Nothing more until tomorrow morning, a half-day away.”
Kindred hadn’t even realized it was evening. How long had she been out after taking a cudgel to the head?
“We’re not supposed to give out water from our personal stores,” Seraph said, dropping down next to her again. “But . . .”
Kindred looked up, head pounding, to see him reach into a bag slumped by the entrance and pull out a small waterskin.
He smiled.
“Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Kindred nodded. She drank, thinking she wouldn’t drink the whole thing and then drinking it anyway. She might have felt bad any other time, but she was too exhausted, too hurt to feel anything but complete relief in the cool slide of the water down her throat.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Of course, sure,” he said, taking the empty skin back. “I tell you what: let’s take today off—the day is nearly over, anyway. You can rest, and we’ll try in the morning.”
Kindred nodded, and Seraph stood, helping her up and letting her lean on him, all the way back up to her room without a roof, her room with its tangled, undone mattress piled next to the other, still-woven one.
Up there, the light was dusky and thin, and it was clear how late in the day it was. Above, the shields crowding the ceiling were misers, holding the slim, fading light to themselves. This, paired with the constant song of the Sea against the outside wall and the vision of grasses shifting just outside the aperture—all of it said clearly: you are below the waves.
Kindred breathed easy.
“Thanks,” Kindred said as Seraph helped her with the last few steps to her bed and then let her go to drop onto the soft curls of the grass. “And thanks,” she mumbled, already feeling the pull of sleep, “for saying that stuff about the hearthfire and my hand.”
Seraph shook his head, smiling.
“No need to thank me. Just get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Kindred was asleep before he was out of the room.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dreamless, Kindred slept until morning, when the shields above became hot, bright pebbles, hurling down sunlight with abandon.
She woke to Ragged Sarah sleeping on the mattress beside hers.
One mystery solved, she thought with a small smile.
Sarah’s mattress lay beneath part of the roof that was still intact, and so she slept in the shade, completely at peace, breath slow and deep. Kindred lay for what seemed an endless moment, listening to that breathing, remembering how thin and weak Sarah’s breath had been after her fall.
The sounds of activity filtered in, a calamitous waking from Breach. Children shouting and sellers selling. Idly, Kindred wondered what currency they used there—coin? She thought she might still have a few in one of her pockets.
And what did they sell there? Food was rationed; was it clothes? Books? Weapons? What was extra in this place?
Kindred floated on these questions for some time, drifting in her curiosity, until Ragged Sarah’s breathing shifted and changed. Her eyes opened, and as she saw Kindred, a slow smile spread over her face, lazy and wide.
“Hello.”
“Hello.”
The mattresses were both positioned roughly in the middle of the room, a few arms’ lengths apart. Sarah shifted and scooted to the edge of hers, bundling the cloak she’d been using as a blanket under her head and facing Kindred.
Kindred did the same.
“How are you feeling?” Kindred asked.