Free Poor World by Sherwood Smith Page B

softly; the grownups down the table were talking, but they might nose in. They would consider it their duty.
    Coley wrinkled her nose. “For certain.” They weren’t supposed to talk about Before, although some did — only to complain about how bad their lives had been before Alsaes had appeared with his wonderful offer. Coley hated her former country and its rulers. She’d been orphaned and then driven from her home city; before she was recruited, she’d organized some kids to attack merchant caravans traveling on crown business. She was by nature a talker, and even this place hadn’t completely squelched her.
    â€œThough I miss apple-crisp with cinnamon,” Dhana said.
    Coley sighed. “We had something like that, only with cream. But only in fall, after harvest. We stole a tray once ...”
    A lull in the general conversation made her stop. Dhana scrutinized Coley’s face; the girl was probably still thinking about food.
    Dhana said deliberately, “We’re near to Plan Day.”
    And watched Coley’s face blank. “Plan,” she repeated. “I can hardly wait for my orders.” Her voice was eager, cheery — and her eyes stared into space without seeming to see anything. Just like those of the adults around them.
    I’m right , Dhana thought. It’s not my imagination. They really are under some kind of spell.
    Everyone was — that is, everyone but Dhana and the Mearsiean girls. And it activated whenever anyone said or heard anything about the Plan.
    Did the other girls know?
    Dhana fought impatience, and while everyone’s attention was elsewhere she poured and drank a fifth glass of water. Even more important now to mirror the behavior patterns of the others. I’m a spy who is spying on the spies . The weird humor of it helped her maintain a calm front.
    If only it would rain! She’d have a better chance of snaking out — unless, of course, that Dejain had magic traps around to detect the presence of magic races in their natural forms.
    Dhana fumed as they lined up to drop their trays. Another long night stretched out ahead, no prospect of talk or fun with anyone she cared about.
    As they walked out into the dry warm evening air, she wrestled with a vile mood. Dhana had just taken two steps when they were approached by another group coming in late — Diana’s group!
    The two leaders paused to speak; Dhana slowed her steps until she was next to Diana, then she paused, bent, and pretended to get a pebble from between her bare toes.
    Diana also bent, extending a hand. “Just saw CJ,” she whispered — in Mearsiean. She didn’t know the name of the language everyone spoke in the compound, but it wasn’t related to Mearsiean. “Practice area.”
    â€œWatch out. There’s magic on the people — the word Plan,” Dhana murmured. “Doesn’t last, though. Pass the word.”
    The pressure of both lines separated them, and they went on their ways. Dhana wondered where Diana had been; she’d smelled of grass and herbs, not dust. They must have been transferred somewhere else to practice, because there was no grass here.
    Dhana was glad she’d gotten to talk to one Mearsiean, however briefly — and more important, there were now two of them who knew about the magic spell on the people. She sighed softly, bracing for another long, dry night, and then that morning cleanup spell, which left her feeling each day a little more like dust. How desperately she needed pure, clean, restorative water! She was glad no one seemed to notice how much she drank; still, her skin itched at the mere thought of a pond.
    Wishing that CJ would be able to think of something soon, she sighed inwardly as she followed the line into the barracks.
    o0o
    Unknown to Dhana, Seshe watched her go. Poor Dhana! She was doing an admirable job of faking cooperation; of all the girls, she’d been the one