Page 64 of A Fractured Song

“It’s inhospitable here, too,” Zev said, no remorse in his words. “But what choice did I have? You need to be more careful,Marieke. I don’t think it’s a good idea to advertise information about ourselves to strangers.”

“Being a singer is not something I feel the need to hide,” she said coolly. Her eyes flicked to the house and back. “Regardless of what some might think.”

“It’s not that,” Zev assured her. “It’s the fact that we just narrowly escaped from two separate groups intent on getting their hands on us. If either the elves or the monarchists sent someone to find us, it wouldn’t be hard for them to learn of the Oleandan singer and local farmer traveling together alongside the canyon. You know how quickly any news, big or small, spreads in a community like this.”

“Oh.” Marieke considered this observation. “I hadn’t really thought of that.”

Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t brought up to value privacy as highly as physical safety. But if she was going to keep asking unpopular and potentially dangerous questions, she would need to learn.

“Hopefully they won’t come looking,” Zev said, giving his clothes a final slap to try to clear the dust. “Come on.”

Chapter

Sixteen

Marieke drew in a breath, bracing herself. She was more nervous about seeing Zev’s family again than she cared to admit. Considerably more than she had been last time, even though they’d been strangers then and she’d been in their power. It wasn’t that she was afraid they would harm her this time. It was that she cared more now. So much more. Zev was…well, important to her. And she wanted his family to like her.

Which made it hard to prepare herself for the cold reality that they were more likely to hate her.

Marieke did her best to appear composed as she climbed the steps, Zev supporting her with an arm. The yellowing light of early evening slanted across the wooden boards, the yard behind them blanketed with the hush of another day’s end.

“Mother?” Zev called, as he pushed the door open. “Father, Azai?” They walked through the hall, Zev poking his head into the kitchen before turning back to Marieke.

“They must all be outside. Here.” He held out his hand. “Let me put your pack in the room you slept in last time.”

Marieke shook her head, clutching the strap of her bagmore tightly. “Not until your parents are at least aware I’m here. Ideally after they’ve actually agreed to me staying.”

Zev gave her a look. “And if they disapprove, you’ll hike out onto the open road alone as night sets in?”

Marieke shrugged. “Obviously it’s not what I’m hoping for, but I’m sure I’d manage.”

“Marieke.” Zev frowned at her. “I would never allow that, not even when you’re at full strength, let alone now, when you can barely put one foot in front of the other.”

Before Marieke could respond, something seemed to catch Zev’s eye. He squinted for a moment toward the kitchen window, then strode back out to the porch, Marieke trailing behind. Leaning against the railing for support, she watched as Zev ran lightly down the steps and made his way across the yard. In the fading light, Marieke’s eyes caught the figure of Narelle, Zev’s mother, walking slowly from the direction of the barn, one large pail gripped in each hand.

“Mother, let me help you with that.” Zev’s voice carried clearly in the still air. The slightest hint of guilt in his tone made Marieke wonder if the evening milking of the cows was usually his task. One of many, no doubt, that he’d abandoned in order to chase after her again.

“Zev!” The older woman looked up, her face softening in a smile as she caught sight of her eldest son. She didn’t seem to have noticed Marieke yet. “You’re back.”

“Just arrived,” Zev said, relieving her of one of the pails. He reached for the other, but Narelle swatted his hand away with a scolding noise.

“I’m not in my dotage, Zevadiah. I can carry a pail of milk.” She softened the words with another smile. “I’m glad to see you back in one piece.”

Marieke ran her fingers over the painted wood of the porch railing, her eyes riveted on the interaction before her. Zev hadsomething special with his family, that much was clear. It was hard to put words to what she felt when she was with them, but it felt deeper even than the usual bond of family. Perhaps it wasn’t so surprising that their disapproval was enough to make him unwilling to dive into anything with her. And yet, what grown man—especially one as strong and confident as Zev—let his parents tell him where to give his affection?

Zev hadn’t yet responded to his mother’s words when the older woman’s eyes flicked up to the house and locked on Marieke. Her step faltered ever so slightly before she recovered her stride, and her expression instantly became neutral.

Marieke sighed, peeling away from the support of the railing with reluctance. All she wanted was to sleep, but she knew she had to make an effort if she wanted even the slimmest chance of Zev’s family thinking well of her.

She moved to the top of the steps, but before she could greet Narelle, two more figures came into view, emerging from the field behind the farm’s small—and out-of-place—training yard. Zev’s father Gideon and brother Azai.

Narelle paused, waiting until her husband and younger son joined them before continuing toward the house. The result was that Marieke found herself confronted with the entire family approaching, three pairs of eyes fixed warily on her where she stood elevated on the porch.

“You brought a guest, Zev,” Gideon said mildly.

“Again.” Azai’s tone wasn’t as impassive.

Zev stepped away from his family, walking up the steps to Marieke’s side in an unhurried way.

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