“What’s happening?” Jase whispered.
“It’s all right.” He didn’t whisper. He whisked the blanket off and put it back on the bed. Tucked the foot of it in.
And got in. Jase said, “I hurt my leg getting the matches.”
Jase had. He could see the skinned knee. Jase had taken a fall in the dark and he was mad.
“Sorry. Want a bandage? I’m sure the man outside can get one.”
“No,” Jase said, brought the candle to bed and then went back after something, probably the matches. It wasn’t natural to think of both. Not in Jase’s world.
Jase blew the light out and, Bren guessed, set the candle and the matches on the floor beside the bed and got in, half frozen, Bren was sure. He felt Jase’s silence as a reproach. He’d deceived Jase too often, too long, and now Jase took for granted that was the final answer: it wasn’t just Jase’s rules-following soul.
“I’m a little worried,” he said to Jase.
There was no answer. Jase wasmad; and shivering beside him, which might be the cold sheets; and might be the situation.
“I don’t think they want us to know everything that’s happening,” Bren said. “Jase, I’m telling you the truth, things may be all right. But there’s been a lot going on in the world, and it’s just possible things are a bit more complicated than seemed.”
“You want me to ask.”
He didn’t even know what he was trying to say. “I just want you to know—I asked the dowager to show you the old ways. I wanted to help you. I wanted you to have the advantage I’ve had—in learning about atevi.”
“So I won’t make a fool of myself?”
It was his turn to be quiet. Jase had a knack, as he supposed he did, for taking the most delicately offered sentiment, and turning it inside out.
“Thanks,” Jase said after a while. “Thanks for the thought.”
Bren was still mad. And still didn’t think Jase remotely understood him. And didn’t want to get his adrenaline up any higher when he was trying to sleep.
“I’ve done the best I know how,” he said to Jase finally. “I’ve tried to teach you.”
The silence hung there a moment. From both sides.
Then Jase said, “I’ve tried to learn.”
“I know that. You’ve done a brilliant job.”
“Years left to get better at it,” Jase said. “Got to. Ship’s got to fly.”
“Yeah,” he said. It was disappointing, in his view, that he couldn’t make Jase like life here, where he was. But whatever motivated Jase to study, whatever kept him wanting to go back, that was what he ought to encourage.
And Jase wanted to get back to his mother. He understood that part. Obligations. Divisions. Desperation.
He didn’t know how his own was doing, or whether calls might have come in—if anything went wrong, surely Toby would call him.
“So what’s going on out there?” Jase asked him.
Deep breath. “I think a number of vans or something came in.” More motors than lights. He didn’t mention that. One running with lights. The rest without. The electronic perimeter admitting them.
“So what did the guard say?”
“Supplies. Breakfast, maybe.” He couldn’t but think of the geography of the place—Mogari-nai, which was reachable by air and by a road up from the modern town of Saduri; and the town and the airport down one face of a steep rise on which this ancient fortress was posed, that faced Geigi on one side; and on the other side, the island of Dur.
Whose young heir was locked in for the night, he supposed. They didn’t have keys for the bedrooms, but he’d about bet they’d found one for wherever they were keeping the boy.
What might be going on out there might involve calling the lord of Dur-wajran and informing him they now had a young idiot who could be reclaimed for suitable forthcoming information on the other side.
Politics. Tabini. The dowager. And those damned radio transmissions.
18
They walked out the front door and down the steps together, with the dawn coloring the sky, Ilisidi and Cenedi in the lead, and the rest of them, except the servants, all in casual hunting clothing, meaning heavy twill coats with the back button undone for riding, and trousers and boots that would withstand abuse far beyond that of the casual walk down a hallway. Jase, Bren had discovered early on, could wear his clothing and, their outing being on too short a notice for tailor-work, he’d contributed all his outdoor wardrobe to the adventure and packed for two.
Now, borrowed riding crops tucked beneath their arms, he and Jase walked down the steps in the middle of the company. Jago was walking with Banichi, just ahead of them, carrying the computer. Even in this event he didn’t leave it.
He wished that he’d had a chance this morning to speak with either of them at length—he wished this morning that he’d not bolted last night, though he was still unsure it wasn’t the wisest thing to have done—and now he wasn’t certain that Jago hadn’t intended to keep him busy and away from hearing and seeing whatever had gone on last night.
They’d not had a formal breakfast, and they’d had not a single hint what that noise had been last night. A lot of transport moving about. But no sign of it this morning. And as for breakfast—here in the open air came servants passing out cups and rolled sandwiches.
Bren took one, and when Jase didn’t think he wanted a sandwich, Bren nudged him in the arm. “Yes, you do.”
“They’re fish!”
“Eat it,” he said, and Jase took one and took the drink. So they had their breakfast standing there. Tea steamed and sent up clouds into the morning air all about the crowd at the foot of the steps.
Meanwhile he tried to catch Jago’s eye, but she didn’t look at him. On one level, probably not sensible, he feared he’d offended her last night by ducking out in such a hurry, or looked like a fool, or possibly he’d just amused or disappointed her.
But on another level common sense told him that the little business between himself and Jago last night hadhad no time to resolve the deeper questions between them, and that he’d been very sensible to be out the door before it became something else under what amounted to the dowager’s roof. At the very worst that might have happened, he could have gotten himself into an adventure he was neither emotionally nor personally quite sure of—and possibly she’d invited him in for the simple reason they needed to keep him away from information. Ironically that reassured him that his own security was involved in whatever was going on. To them he would commit his life without a question.
Maybe they didn’t know that.
Maybe they didn’t understand how he likedJago, that dreadful word, and was attracted, he began to admit it; and did wonder certain things which could only be resolved by trying them.
But last night hadn’t been that time.
He handed over his cup as the servants passed back through collecting them. He kept near Jase.
Fact: they had a young atevi in detention in their midst, an uncertain situation on their hands with Ilisidi, and somebody had been rummaging about the hilltop last night in motorized transport of which there was no sign nor acknowledgement.
So their lives just might be at some risk, not an uncommon situation in the last year but a situation that didn’t need the additional complication of his distraction with Jago.
He had caught Banichi for one fast question in the upstairs halclass="underline" “Is there a reason for this rush? What in hell was going on last night?” and Banichi had said, “None that I know, nothing I can say, but we’re going with the dowager, nadi: what darewe say?”