swished his tail and gazed longingly at the archway. “Mostly tradition. We haven’t had a problem with giants or trolls in the last few centuries, but there were years we had to barricade ourselves in. Centaurs, dragons — all sorts of things used to attack, not to mention the sylph. Now the edge of Range is better protected, but just because they haven’t tried in a while doesn’t mean they won’t again. We don’t want to be unprepared.”
There’d been drawings of battles in some of the cottage books, most involving liberal use of red ink. If I’d died in countless wars against the other inhabitants of the planet, I’d keep my doors shut, too.
The arch was tall and wide, and deep enough for ten people to stand abreast. Still creeped out by the pulse of the wall, I hugged myself and stayed in the center.
Beyond the iron bars, the archway opened into a wide chamber. “Guard station,” Sam explained. “And this is a soul-scanner, so the Council knows who is coming and going. There are a few around armories and places they don’t think
everyone
should have access to. Normally you’d have to touch it, too, but I assume you’re not in the database, so it wouldn’t do anything.” He pressed his palm on a small panel by the gate. It beeped, and a section of the gate swung open just as yellow light spilled across the floor and footsteps echoed.
A slender man, perhaps in his thirties, appeared. “Hey, Sam. Would have been here sooner, but Darce just gave birth to Minn — who’s a girl this time — and a bunch of us had to keep Merton from getting revenge on him while he’s still so young. Her. That might take some getting used to. Minn hasn’t been a girl in ten generations.”
Sam went first with Shaggy. I followed when the hooves were out of the way, and didn’t even have time to take in the sparse furnishings before all eyes fell on me.
“Speaking of getting used to.” The stranger glanced at Sam, then back to me. He wore loose-fitting pants and a heavy, button-up brown shirt. The afternoon was warm enough to make coats unnecessary. “Ana, right?”
As if there were a question. He’d known because I hadn’t touched the soul-scanner, then started gossiping to make me feel excluded. I lifted my chin like I was about to come up with a brilliant retort, or like Sam might say something, but neither happened, and the stranger and I just watched each other, stares slowly turning into glares.
Shaggy broke the silence with a long sigh.
The guard turned back to Sam. “Still doesn’t talk, hmm? Sad.” He retreated to a wooden desk shoved against the city wall. A slim, flickering screen rested in the center — it was blank — and a few neat stacks of paper sat around that. He flicked on the lamp and leaned against the desk, casting shadows.
Sam hauled his bags off Shaggy, grunting between words; otherwise, his tone was congenial. “Actually,” I said, “I think she was waiting for you to give her your name.”
“Actually, I don’t care.” I took a bag from Sam, transferring it to my shoulder with minimal use of my hands. The one bandage was coming undone from where I’d been sloppy about rebinding it. “But I do talk, and have for quite some time.”
Sam turned his head as though to hide his smirk.
“Well then, glad to hear. I’m Corin.” The guard offered a palm, which I didn’t take, just held up my bandages. “What happened to your hands?”
“Burned them.”
“She rescued me from a sylph.” Sam didn’t mention how he’d rescued me from the sylph, too, and the lake before that, or how he’d been taking care of me for almost three weeks. It was nice of him to make me sound brave.
Corin whistled. “Impressive, but you know he’d come back, right?”
Eventually, sure, but not in time to save me from everyone treating me like Corin was. I hefted the new bag on my shoulder and addressed Sam. “It’ll be time for supper soon.”
He had little reason to play as my ally,
There’d been drawings of battles in some of the cottage books, most involving liberal use of red ink. If I’d died in countless wars against the other inhabitants of the planet, I’d keep my doors shut, too.
The arch was tall and wide, and deep enough for ten people to stand abreast. Still creeped out by the pulse of the wall, I hugged myself and stayed in the center.
Beyond the iron bars, the archway opened into a wide chamber. “Guard station,” Sam explained. “And this is a soul-scanner, so the Council knows who is coming and going. There are a few around armories and places they don’t think
everyone
should have access to. Normally you’d have to touch it, too, but I assume you’re not in the database, so it wouldn’t do anything.” He pressed his palm on a small panel by the gate. It beeped, and a section of the gate swung open just as yellow light spilled across the floor and footsteps echoed.
A slender man, perhaps in his thirties, appeared. “Hey, Sam. Would have been here sooner, but Darce just gave birth to Minn — who’s a girl this time — and a bunch of us had to keep Merton from getting revenge on him while he’s still so young. Her. That might take some getting used to. Minn hasn’t been a girl in ten generations.”
Sam went first with Shaggy. I followed when the hooves were out of the way, and didn’t even have time to take in the sparse furnishings before all eyes fell on me.
“Speaking of getting used to.” The stranger glanced at Sam, then back to me. He wore loose-fitting pants and a heavy, button-up brown shirt. The afternoon was warm enough to make coats unnecessary. “Ana, right?”
As if there were a question. He’d known because I hadn’t touched the soul-scanner, then started gossiping to make me feel excluded. I lifted my chin like I was about to come up with a brilliant retort, or like Sam might say something, but neither happened, and the stranger and I just watched each other, stares slowly turning into glares.
Shaggy broke the silence with a long sigh.
The guard turned back to Sam. “Still doesn’t talk, hmm? Sad.” He retreated to a wooden desk shoved against the city wall. A slim, flickering screen rested in the center — it was blank — and a few neat stacks of paper sat around that. He flicked on the lamp and leaned against the desk, casting shadows.
Sam hauled his bags off Shaggy, grunting between words; otherwise, his tone was congenial. “Actually,” I said, “I think she was waiting for you to give her your name.”
“Actually, I don’t care.” I took a bag from Sam, transferring it to my shoulder with minimal use of my hands. The one bandage was coming undone from where I’d been sloppy about rebinding it. “But I do talk, and have for quite some time.”
Sam turned his head as though to hide his smirk.
“Well then, glad to hear. I’m Corin.” The guard offered a palm, which I didn’t take, just held up my bandages. “What happened to your hands?”
“Burned them.”
“She rescued me from a sylph.” Sam didn’t mention how he’d rescued me from the sylph, too, and the lake before that, or how he’d been taking care of me for almost three weeks. It was nice of him to make me sound brave.
Corin whistled. “Impressive, but you know he’d come back, right?”
Eventually, sure, but not in time to save me from everyone treating me like Corin was. I hefted the new bag on my shoulder and addressed Sam. “It’ll be time for supper soon.”
He had little reason to play as my ally,
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