“I have bad dreams sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes I think people are shooting in the house. And then I wake up.”
“It was like that, nandi,” Veijico said, and still she did not look at him or at Antaro.
“Was it about the kidnappers?”
“If I were given permission—” Veijico looked at him, then, her back to the fire. “No, nandi. I shall not ask for permission. I would have to have Cenedi’s support, and I know I would not get that.”
“To go look for your brother?”
“It is not practical, nandi.”
“Lord Machigi sent you and Barb-daja back. Everything will sort out, and Bren-nandi will get him to send Lucasi back, too.”
“The Taisigi caught me, with Barb-daja. But Lucasi will not be caught like that. They will not find him. And he will go on looking for Barb-daja and for me. He will live off the land, and he will not come back until he succeeds or gets an order.” A deep breath. “But if he shoots one of Machigi’s people, nandi, it will be a risk to nand’ Bren. And one very much hopes that does not happen.”
So that was the dream. They had had disturbing news from the Marid all evening, reports of Guild movement here and there in an action Cenedi was not in charge of, and, what was truly unsettling, neither was his father. All yesterday they had known nand’ Bren was talking to Machigi, trying to get him to deal with Great-grandmother, and Lord Machigi had directly promised to find Lucasi and get him home, but it was just what Veijico said: Lucasi would know none of what was going on. He would not want to be found, and if things blew up worse than they were, there was less and less chance of any good news about Lucasi. That was what Veijico was dreaming about.
“Do you want to go ask for news in the security room, nadi?”
“I am becoming a nuisance there, nandi, and I am not in good favor with Cenedi-nadi.”
That was the ongoing problem. Veijico was still in trouble. He realized he had never quite told Cenedi he had taken her back, and how else was Cenedi going to know that, except she was staying in his suite?
“I shall speak to Cenedi,” he said.
“One would be very grateful,” Veijico said.
“I shall go talk to Nawari, meanwhile, nadi,” Jegari said to her. “Nawari will tell me.”
“One would be grateful,” Veijico said again. But this time she looked at Jegari.
It was curious. Just in that, something shifted in the household. Cajeiri felt it. Adults had always said he would know things and he would feel things differently than his ties to humans. And he had thought they were just saying that to separate him from Gene and Artur and Irene, his friendson the ship.
But something shifted. Antaro came back into the room, and they were all together, and it felt different.
His father had unintentionally handed him a hard situation— trying to protect him by getting him a very young bodyguard that he would not try to shake off his track—not, maybe, reckoning how very hard it was going to be to work out man’chi with them and with Antaro and Jegari. Because mani was right. He had notfelt his way through things. He was rowdy and disrespectful, and his ear had gotten very sore from mani’s thwacks on it. She would say things like, “You have no grace,” and “ Think, boy. You were not born dim-witted.” And grow very out of patience with him being slow when it came to guessing what he should and should not do.
Then she would say things like, “ Nand’ Brencan perceive these things. Why can you not use your head, young gentleman?” So he knew she was comparing him to nand’ Bren. As if he were human. And things like, “You have to be among atevi. There are things you will knowwhen you live among atevi.”
Nonsense, he had thought. There was nothing wrong with him.
But all of a sudden he did feel something. Something like a puzzle piece clicking into order.
It was like Gene and Artur on the ship: if somebody did something stupid, they could figure it out, and forgive it, and stick together anyway. And this way they had—had scared him. He had not understood it. But now that his aishid did it, just that little exchange between Jegari and Veijico, it all felt—better. Safer. Maybe it was Veijico needing them and them forgiving her. Maybe it was the precarious way things were; they had become an infelicity of four without Lucasi, but they did not make a felicity of three by shutting her out, and she more than knew that, he suspected she feltthat— because hedid.
So there was something to what mani had said. Things made sense suddenly. They were an infelicity that would not heal until they got Lucasi back. But they choseto be that, because they chose to take Veijico in; and she was suddenly different with them. Not alone, now.
Antaro came back with toast and tea, and Jegari told her he was going out for a moment, and she should save him some.
So now Antaro had to figure it out. But he helped. He said, “Jegari has gone to find out if there is any news about Lucasi. He will be back. We should save his breakfast.”
“Yes,” Antaro said, and set up the teacups, four of them, and poured three, and served him one.
“Nadi,” Veijico said quietly, taking hers, with a look at Antaro. And the room went on feeling better.
***
Jago had been back with them for at least a minute before Bren knew it. She was just there, saying nothing, but moving ahead of them, in the eye-tricking last of the night.
“Is Banichi moving ahead of us, Jago-ji?” Bren whispered when he caught up. It was a brief rest, in the dark, on the edge of dawn. “Why have we not met up with him?”
“We are having trouble getting around our inconvenience,” Jago said, and indicated the rugged ground that rose on their left hand, across a ravine. They had traveled, they had climbed through difficult terrain, and they stillwere not out of the vicinity of their enemies?
“Is that the same place?” Bren surmised.
“Yes,” Jago answered. “We are below it, but not away from it. We are wary of surveillance, Bren-ji. We cannot dismantle it without betraying our presence. Banichi is mapping it. We are going to have to lie low for the day if this way does not work out. How are you faring?”
“I can do it,” he said, impatient of the delay. And then he had to be honest. “If it doesn’t involve a vertical climb. That—I can’t.”
“One hopes to avoid that.”
So that was the story. They were increasingly exposed. There might be enemies waiting in ambush. The sun was coming up, and it was still night to human eyes—but to atevi vision?
They were getting into a region where there had been trouble, and it might have posted sentries. And the day was coming.
“I can go faster, at least,” he said.
“Banichi is back,” Algini said in a low voice, close at hand.
Where? he wondered, looking around like a fool. He saw nothing but rocks and brush.
But as they started moving, and just a little distance farther, a tall shadow appeared in their path, gave a handsign, and they all waited while Banichi and Jago exchanged a handful of words and signs.
Then Tano said, “Banichi has found the boy.”
Lucasi? Good God. “Where?” he asked. And then thought of the enemy base. “God. Is he up there?”
“No,” Tano said. “But ahead of us. We are going to where he is.”
They’d made all possible racket in the district, including gunfire. The enemy had to be on high alert up there. Now they moved quietly, slipping down into a nook in the rock, behind vertical slabs, overgrown with brush, and down and up again, Banichi and Jago in the lead, and Banichi not stopping for a lengthy report.
They came to a split in the rock, a difficult passage over tumbled boulders, a nook deep in shadow.
He didn’t see any sign of Lucasi there, not at first, and then he saw the direction of attention of the others and made out the faint outline of a figure sitting next to the scrub with one leg extended. That figure started to get up, but Banichi signed abruptly and it stayed put.