worse.
Laita's
eyes were worried, wide in the way she'd been taught so her face
wouldn't wrinkle. "Kessa, what's happened?"
She
scrubbed at her face and sat on the foot of Laita's cot. "I've
asked Tag to come. I . . . need help."
"Jontho
said you'd been arrested, but brought out by your Guild Master."
Kessa
rubbed her face again. "Yes. That. Let's wait till Tag's here,
or I'll have to explain it all over again. And I don't want to know
how things went. Truth potions . . ."
Laita
patted her cot's edge. "Can you at least say what happened, that
you were arrested ?"
"Yes.
Bunch of Weavers' guards. Don't know why they needed half a dozen men
for one herb-witch. They . . . offered no harm."
One'd made suggestions, but she'd looked him in the eye, and though
he'd had horse-dark eyes himself . . . He'd put his
spear across his body and said nothing more. She didn't want to speak
of that. Kessa pulled the orange from her belt pouch. "Here."
Jontho,
come to lean against the wall beside the cot, said, "Where'd you
get that , Kessacat?"
"My
Guild Master. He's been feeding me. I'll explain when Tag gets here.
How've you been?"
Laita's
smile (Kessa looked) lit up the room as much as the rushlight, it
seemed. "Better to know you're all right."
If
there were justice in the world, a spirit of rain would come from the
clouds and swear she was a daughter of the Sun himself, child-sworn
bride to be taken to a palace . . . "I'm glad
you didn't fret yourself into a fever," Kessa said, and
collected the orange peels. There might be something she could do
with them, if she dried them carefully. At the least, they smelled
good; a last breath of summer, this close to harvest and frost.
They
talked about little things: Laita'd been able to dance the night
before, earning a few copper trees after the tavernkeep's cut;
Jontho'd stepped out for midnight cargo-hauling with Burk last night,
and the biggest brother of the crèche was doing well; the weather
looked to continue fair, they thought, though nights grew chill.
Finally,
there was another safety-patterned knock and Jontho opened the door.
Tag slipped in, still a weedy young man, but no scrawnier, or more
stooped, than when Kessa'd seen him last. The rushlight didn't show
the deep blue of his eyes that let him be almost charming when he
laughed, but the shadows emphasized how his face was thin while his
nose was long, and his ears stuck out; he'd pulled his knitted cap
down behind rather than over them. A few wisps of light brown hair
escaped from under it.
"Hey,"
he said, and came to sit by the cot and filch the orange slice
Laita'd saved in her lap. He batted at them as they reached to tug
his cap over his ears. "Gah, women! When'd you start,
Kess?"
"Herb-witches
are healers now and then," Kessa said. "And frostbite won't
make your ears go away."
"Fine.
So what's wrong that you've got all but Burk here?"
Kessa
dug her fingers into her knees. "You heard I got arrested? There
were two potions in that moneylender's cup, and only one mine. They
combined, left him a madman, and the watch arrested me. My Guild
Master got me out, though I don't know why he was there." She
took a breath. "He gave me a brew . . . He said
I've an alchemist's immunity."
"You're
on the run?" Tag asked, patting her forearm awkwardly. "Need
to get out of Aeston?"
She
dropped her head into her hands. "Not yet. But . . .
Earth and Rain, he proposed when he found I was immune."
"Did
you say yes?" Laita asked.
" What ?"
Kessa stared; her sister was too amused to do more than draw in
breath at the unguarded glance. "You can't be serious. I was in
a prison cell! He dosed me! Why would I agree ?"
"He's
giving you food? He's rich? Is he respectful?" Laita still
sounded amused. Tag had his head in his hands, snickering.
"He's
high-handed and annoying. He dosed me with alchemy! And I couldn't
make dry tea so cheaply," she finished, folding her arms.
"Kessa!
As if that were the only reason I