At the first of those tars Rane took her inside the House and they slept in relative comfort that night, with full bellies and a fire in the room, at the second Rane, came back looking grimmer than ever. Without saying anything, she took her macai’s reins and led him outside, walked beside him, alert and on edge, not relaxing until they were almost an hour away from the tar. Tuli asked no questions, walked beside her, keeping up as best she could. Finally Rane stopped and swung into the saddle. She waited until Tuli was up also, then said, “Norit.” She kneed her mount into a walk. “Sniffing about. Not really suspicious but looking to catch anything that stuck its head up. Keletty only had a moment to warn me there were noses in her household and tell me about the norit. Nothing else she could do. Mozzen was doing his catechism for the Agli who was nervous as he was with the norit listening in. Catch this.” She tossed a greasy packet to Tuli. “Some bread and dripping, a bit of cheese, that’s all she could spare.”
Tuli looked down at the packet. She was too tired to be hungry. She smiled down at Ildas, a blob of warmth cradled against her belly. “Think you could hang onto this for me?”
The fireborn grinned his cat-grin, held up his forepaws; she tucked the packet down between those tiny black hands, smiled again as Ildas curled round it. Melt my cheese, she thought. Nice. She looked up to see Rane scowling at her. “I’m too tired to eat,” she said.
“Take care, Tuli, don’t lose the food, it cost Keletty something, giving it to us.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
They rode another hour, slipped into a broken-down herdsman’s hut, gave the macain some stolen grain and sat down for a quick cold meal. Tuli’s wasn’t cold. The bread was steaming, the cheese melted all through it She looked up to see Rane staring. “The fireborn who’s only my imagination,” she said, grinning in spite of her fatigue. “He’s got a hot little body.”
Rane shook her head. “Or you’re more talented than you think. Ajjin called you a magic child and, by damn, I think she’s right.” She stretched, groaned. “We’ll ride by night from now on. Could use the rest, both of us. I’ll take first watch. You crawl into your blankets and get some sleep. Barring accidents, we’ll spend the day here. Couple of nights’ ride to Appentar. Lembo Appen’s a man who likes his meals so at least the food should be good.”
The signal came when she was about to lead the macain out of the half-collapsed but in the grove’s center-long and breathy, the wail of a hunting kanka, one, then two, then one. But Ildas was as twitchy as the fire he was born from, darting about as if blown by a wind that didn’t exist except for him. The silent gray trees stood like old bones about her, not a rustle or a creak out of them, the snow shone an eerie gray-white in the pulsing moonlight as TheDom and the Dancers rode gibbous through the breaks in the clouds. She frowned at Ildas, looked over her shoulder at the macain. Working with furious speed so Rane wouldn’t be worried, she stripped the gear off the beasts, all but the halters, led them back inside and tied them where they could reach the snow if they needed water, dumped before each of them a small pile of grain. Ildas was too upset; even if Rane thought it was safe, Tuli wanted to take no chances. The fireborn ran before her, nervous and excited; he came back to circle so closely about her feet she was sure she was going to trip over him. She started to scold him, then saw that he was kicking up the snow and hiding all trace of her passage so she pressed her lips together and endured that along with the soundless yaps that were making her head hurt. She wasn’t feeling very well anyway, hadn’t been sleeping well for several days, her menses were due, she was overtired, underfed and ready to snarl at the least thing. He sensed that finally and went quiet as she reached the edge of the grove.
Rane was waiting in the shadow of a hedgerow. When she saw Tuli without the macain, she said nothing, only turned into the narrow curving lane, shortening her stride as she led Tuli along it toward the gates of a small tar, then over the wall of the House’s private garden.
Two girls like enough to be twins met them at the garden door. One had a small candlelamp muted by a darkglass, a child’s nightlight, used, Tuli supposed, to shield the girls from discovery. Eyes glistening with an excitement that Tuli found excessive, they spoke in whispering rushes Rane seemed to understand. Tuli didn’t feel like puzzling out what was said, so she didn’t bother listening. With furtive stealth, the girls took Rane and Tuli up into the attics, showed them into a cozy secret room with a small fire burning ready there, a table set with plates and cups, two bedrolls ready on straw pallets.
The fireborn didn’t like it at all; he ran his worry patterns over the walls and ceiling, but ran them in silence so at least Tuli’s headache didn’t worsen. She wanted to talk to Rane but those idiot girls wouldn’t leave them alone; while one was downstairs fetching the meal and gathering supplies for them to take when they left, the other stayed in the room, making conversation and asking questions. Tuli didn’t like the feel of this whole business, even without Ildas’s fidgets, but she wouldn’t say anything because if the girls were honest they were putting themselves in some danger so she couldn’t be actively rude. Rane was nervous too, but anyone who didn’t know her well would never guess it. The ex-meie was being very smooth and diplomatic, talking easily with the girl, answering her questions with apparent expansiveness and no hesitation, but Tuli noted with some surprise and a growing admiration just how little she was telling the girl. And she began to realize how much of that girl’s artless chatter was made up of questions, innocent until you added them together; if she’d got the answers she’d wanted, she’d have had a detailed account of their travels across the Cimpia Plain.