Theron leaned back, smiling contritely. “I apologize. You’re right. I only want to do all I can to keep this from happening again. The only way to ensure that is to get rid of the elves once and for all.” He looked at Zara again. “We all have to do our part to keep Ardani safe.”
She nodded slowly, holding his gaze. His smile broadened.
“I’m glad to see you safe, in any case,” he said. “The important thing is that you’re unhurt. I will not put you in harm’s way again.”
“No. I still want to help.” Everyone looked at her. “You are right,” she went on quickly. “We all must do our part. And I am no stranger to conflict. I am comfortable with danger. I will go with you again the next time you need me.”
Theron looked pleased.
Since she was feeling better, she spent the day scrubbing down tables and mending holes in bedspreads, despite Basira’s protests that she should still be resting. She’d had more than enough rest and she was bored to tears. When Farhana asked for another zef-khanja lesson in the afternoon, Zara happily obliged, and only coughed a few times despite the physical exertion.
Before she left the inn that evening, Tahir told her he had something for her, and handed her a pair of matching daggers.
“In ra’Hezirat, it is customary for all people of age to carry a blade,” he said. “We consider it our duty to be ready to defend ourselves or others at all times.”
She glanced up at him, studying his serious expression. He was offering her the means to assuage her own fear after last week’s incident.
The daggers were straight and symmetrical, ideal for throwing as well as stabbing, with hilts that were gilded with either gold or something that looked similar. “These look expensive,” Zara said carefully.
“They will be Farhana’s when she is old enough,” Tahir said with a knowing smile. “She’s too young now. But perhaps you will use them in her honor while you’re here with us.”
* * *
Zara had slept lightlysince she’d arrived in the village, often waking up multiple times a night. Being in a strange place with unfamiliar sounds would do that to anyone.
It was probably only for that reason that she awoke that night at the sound of a distant, shrill cry. It was muffled, but sharp enough that it was unmistakable—a child crying. Not the petulant whine of a frustrated child, but a sound of distress and pain.
Still in her night clothes, she shoved her feet into her boots and buckled her daggers around her waist, then ran out the door toward the inn, heedless of the elven menace that everyone insisted was lurking in the dark. She slowed when she reached the porch of the inn. The crying had softened, but she could hear it coming from inside, just on the other side of the door. Drawing one of the daggers, she eased the door open.
A group of figures were huddled inside. Tahir and Basira were kneeling over Farhana, who was lying on the floor, her face screwed up in pain. A woman with long, black hair was crouched beside them.
Zara’s hand tightened on her dagger as she realized the long-haired woman was Naika. Zara had hardly recognized her without her armor. Like the rest of them, she was still in her night clothes. It was the first time Zara had seen Naika away from the other Paladins. She’d thought the woman followed Theron everywhere.
Naika’s hands waved slowly over Farhana, her face a mask of concentration. Tahir and Basira wore matching expressions of worry as the mage worked. As Zara stepped closer, her heart sank. There was a smear of blood on Farhana’s head. Naika’s hands glowed with healing magic.
After a few moments, the bleeding seemed to stop, and Naika drew back, her healing finished. Zara took a step toward them, and they all looked up, noticing her for the first time. Naika’s brows slammed downward.
“She tripped on the stairs,” Basira said, scooping the girl up into her arms. Farhana put her arms around her neck, sniffing. “Hit her head.”
Naika was still scowling at Zara, but there was something else in her expression that normally wasn’t there. She was afraid. She turned to Basira, grabbing her arm and pointedly motioning toward Zara. Basira nodded.
“The other Paladins can’t know about this,” Basira said to Zara. “No one can know about this. Do you understand?”
Zara looked between them all. Naika glared at her.
“I will not tell him,” Zara told her.
Naika exhaled a deep, dissatisfied breath, her nostrils flaring, then brushed past her and disappeared through the door.
* * *
Several daysof blessed quiet passed in the village.
Zara had gathered her courage and approached Tahir in his workshop to ask if he would teach her some of his craft. He seemed surprised that she’d asked, as if it was unusual for anyone to take an interest in his work. But within the hour, she was helping him mix herbs with a mortar and pestle and boiling down ironwood sap to make a base for salves. There were countless uses for alchemy in a village with no mages. Only mages could make healing panacea, but there were many ailments and injuries that simple alchemical mixtures could help with. On top of that, some of the Varai had taken to coating their arrows with poison made from a local plant. Tahir had spent much of the past few weeks making antidote for it.
One of the regulars at the inn let her borrow some maps of the area, which she studied by candlelight late into the evenings. If someone happened to abscond with her on a behelgi again, perhaps she’d be able to find her way back to the village on her own when she escaped.
Learning crafts and going out on her own without an escort held a unique novelty to her. In Kuda Varai, there were many things she’d never been permitted to do. Knowledge was a privilege, not a right. Free passage was for free folk, not slaves. But in Ardani, humans could do as they wished. Unless it was something that the Paladins disapproved of, of course.