FIFTY-FIVE
Levels of Stupidity
Lilya couldn’t help feeling that something was happening. Like Stately House on the eve of the Frost Festival, or when Uncle Jackie returned from a trip with Uncle Argent and began doling out souvenirs for each of them. The air seemed to be humming with anticipation. Or maybe she really was hearing humming.
Gregor propped on her hip, she hurried after Timur, scanning the sky for any sign of singers. “Maybe it’s the wind,” she said to Gregor.
He lay his head on her shoulder and said, “Pah-kah.”
“Yes, your papka needs us.”
Inside Zisa’s little house, which was now swathed in creamy yellows and golds, she found her big brother already slouched in a chair that had been dragged to the corner and Sinder huddled on the larger of two beds.
Timur beckoned for her to pass him Gregor. “Thank you, Lilya. Take care of Sinder for me.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I held Gregor so you can …?”
“No.” Timur’s tone was tightly controlled. “I will stay right here, and I will hold Gregor, and you will take care of Sinder.”
“Why?”
“Because I am angry.”
Lilya had never seen Timur angry, but she’d seen Mum angry. Once. Things could get scary without someone—in Mum’s case, Papka—to calm everyone down. “Where’s Fend?” she asked.
“I shut him out.”
“Why?”
Timur’s jaw tightened. “He’s even angrier.”
“Right, then.” It was clearly up to her. “Tell me what to do.”
“Remove his bandages. Clean him up. Reapply ointment.” With his gaze firmly fixed on Gregor’s face, he gruffly added, “Better check his leg, too. Fend bit him.”
Lilya studied Sinder, who looked increasingly wilted. “What did you do?”
“I messed up.”
“Anyone can make a mistake.” Lilya located the medical kit and pointed to the foot of the bed. Sinder scooted to the edge and sat with eyes downcast.
“Mistake?” Timur’s accent thickened. “This was a debacle.”
“You know the rules.” Lilya patiently quoted, “You can’t point to consequences without weighing them against intentions.”
“He made a grievous error.”
“Unintentionally?”
“Carelessly.”
Lilya propped her hand on her hip. “That falls under simple stupidity, and you know it.”
Sinder blurted, “What are you two on about?”
“Uncle Argent says there are levels of stupidity, but those who climb them sometimes achieve genius.” She gestured for him to remove his tunic. “There are also depths of stupidity, and those mired in them rarely get by without help.”
“That’s probably why I need a partner,” Sinder muttered.
Lilya placed a hushing finger over his lips. “That was a secret, yes?”
Sinder winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Saying sorry is a good start.” Lilya eased gauze away from an injury that was healing nicely. “What did you do?”
“Confess,” ordered Timur. “Tell my sister the tale of your thoughtlessness. You can spare Kyrie that much, yes?”
Lilya gave her brother a hard look and went into the bathroom to fill a basin with hot water. She sometimes helped the mares and Mum with this kind of thing. Everybody at Stately House learned the basics of the healing arts. She wasn’t completely hopeless, so long as she was following orders, but she didn’t like seeing people in pain.
Right now, both Timur and Sinder were in pain. And she wanted to help.
She quietly cleaned Sinder up. He endured it while stealing glances at Timur.
“You are depleted,” Lilya said. And to Timur, “He needs tending.”
“I am in no fit state,” her brother said firmly. “Is Mikoto still around? Or Tenma. He’d be best.”
Lilya was tempted to ask his opinion of Tenma. But she wasn’t about to bring up her impending contract while Timur was angry. Instead, she busied herself with ointment and gauze. “Sinder, what does Kyrie have to do with what happened?”
He met her gaze. “I blabbed a secret, and he overheard. It was about his biological father.”
“Why would that be bad?” She risked a look at Timur, whose expression was unreadable.
Sinder sighed. “How much should I say?”
“Now you weigh your words?” asked Timur.
“She’s just a kid.” When Timur offered no guidance, Sinder looked ready to be sick. “We’ve been training battlers to hunt dragons. Because there’s this one dragon. He’s a very bad person.”
Lilya helped Sinder into a clean shirt. “Kyrie’s actual dad is some kind of criminal?”
“The worst kind.” The dragon whispered, “Terrible and terrifying.”
She rested her hands on his shoulders and firmly said, “That’s not your fault.”
“But I told …!”
“The truth.” Lilya knew Kyrie better than she knew herself. “He would always rather know the truth. Secrets bother him almost as much as lies.”
Sinder looked like he really wanted to believe her. But didn’t trust her. Or himself.
Suddenly, she knew what to do. “Timur, go get water for tea?”
Her big brother grunted and hauled himself out of his chair, carrying Gregor out.
To Sinder, Lilya said, “Don’t tell.”
His brows shot up when she pushed her knuckle between his lips and past his teeth. “Li’ya?” he mumbled around her finger.
“Hush. There are so many wards, I can’t hurt you. It’s safe. Papka made sure.”
A muffled warble. He was uneasy.
“Tending will do you good.” She pressed firmly. “This is the only way past the seal, so bear with it. And don’t worry about Timur. He never stays grumpy for long. He’ll still be your friend.”
Sinder slowly bowed his head, letting it come to rest on her shoulder. Lilya felt him give in to trust. That’s when the first hot drops splashed, and she knew he was crying.
“Don’t be afraid.” She petted his hair. “You have good friends.”
They pulled away from each other when Timur returned. He’d turned Gregor over to someone else, and he carried a tea tray. “I made it extra strong,” he said grimly.
Swiping at wet lashes, Sinder adopted a meek posture. “Thank you.”
Timur’s anger fled, and he sank to his knees beside the bed. First checking Lilya’s work with the bandages, he relented completely. “Lilya’s right. It’s not your fault that Kyrie’s father is a monster.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You will apologize to Kyrie, yes?” Timur ordered.
“I will.”
“Go on, then. Get back to it.”
Sinder stilled, and Lilya blushed.
Timur blandly said, “You think I can’t tell when a beacon is bestowing a blessing? It’s fine. She needs the practice, and you need the heartening. But first … tea.”