19. Zari #2
Zari smiled. “I’ve always loved that saying, though it’s been a long time since I’ve heard it.”
“Where’s home for you?” asked Yansin.
“My family estate was in Laurelaire, west of the capital.” Zari bit back a wince at her posh phrasing.
But it was the truth. The Ankmetta family’s home included a sprawling lawn with its own lake and stables, a fine manor and a separate guest house.
To clarify that she did not still live in such a wealthy world, she added, “When my father didn’t come home from the war, my relatives took over the estate. ”
Some nights, she dreamed she’d never lost her house – imagined herself waking up in her old four-poster bed with a crackling fire in the hearth.
If she was able to leave the isles with her father, was there a chance they’d be able to reclaim her home?
Or would Javen ensure she was marked a traitor and hunted everywhere she went?
“The war changed many lives, and few for the better.”
“Including yours?” she asked. “I still don’t understand why you were on the run tonight, or… or why you didn’t tell me you were getting on my train.”
Yansin sighed. He rocked back on his heels, looking around, as if desperate to find something else to talk about.
Not that there was, given their current location and circumstances.
“Because it was a last-minute decision of mine, resulting in both no time to tell you, and no ticket to provide the authorities when they came calling.”
So he’d hopped the train, and snuck aboard as a stowaway. A risky choice. “Why? ”
“I…” He looked down at his hands, as if he might avoid the question altogether. “I was worried about you, Zari, and the deal you told me you made with the fae. I wanted to find you on the train, find the fae too, and—”
“Rescue me from him?” Zari asked. She folded her arms, not annoyed at his protectiveness, but a little surprised. Nothing in that last conversation they’d had made her feel he was going to come after her. “I went of my own free will.”
“I know,” he replied, his voice heavy. “A choice freely made can still bring harm. I didn’t have time to find you before the Crimsons started searching the train, asking passengers if they’d seen a woman with your description.
I slipped away to try to find you before trouble did.
” He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was a little late.”
“Or just in time.” She bumped his shoulder with hers, finding herself rather touched by his heroics after all. He’d risked so much and he had saved her life. Perhaps, like Annette, his wildling nature made him a little luckier than the average human.
“If you say so. At the very least, I can offer you dinner.” He grinned.
“The finest goods my hasty packing can offer, in fact.” Yansin poured water from a faded military canteen and set out olives, crackers, and dried fruit.
The canteen was a standard Rhydonian soldier’s, though badly dented and scraped.
“Thank you,” Zari nodded at the small spread, which, in her current state, looked as delicious as any fancy meal she’d ever encountered.
At least he’d thought to pack food, and had his bag.
Her hastily thrown-together suitcase was probably left behind on the train, or perhaps with the fae, wherever they now were.
“A pleasure to offer,” Yansin replied. The bygone phrase was one she’d only heard from elderly patients. “It isn’t much, but pleasant company with a meal makes even a meager one better.”
As she leaned in, she plucked an olive and ate it in one bite.
The tart, briny taste seemed to reinvigorate her, sharpening her senses so she was more aware of him.
“You know, I’ve not had olives since I left home, a decade ago.
” Her father had loved them, but Annette couldn’t stand the smell of them.
“Do you miss it?”
“Oh, so much. We had the most beautiful garden with apple trees and strawberry bushes. And the library…” Smiling, she trailed off, picturing the floor-to-ceiling bookcases, the massive fireplace, the comfy chairs, the silver tray where the cook would leave sweets for her, and the chess board set for the next time she’d play her father.
A hundred little memories of things she’d never see again.
“It sounds wonderful.” He smiled. “I confess I spent more time playing in the mud of a garden than in the library.”
Zari giggled, imagining Yansin as a boy. “I bet you had adventures, though.”
“Oh, yes. We did.”
“Siblings?” she asked, a bit envious of those who had brothers or sisters.
“None. I had two friends that helped me cause chaos. Lili especially, for she was equally good at charming her way back out of trouble.”
Smiling, Zari recalled all the times Annette would charge into the library, shouting about some new game she’d invented.
“Are you two still close?” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say the girl’s name.
Which was foolish. She was the one who had been supposed to marry the man whose house they were now in.
What did it matter if Yansin still knew a childhood friend of his?
“No.” A shadow fell over his face. Zari knew enough of grief to recognize it.
Now, she realized that had been the same burden he’d carried the morning they’d both left the capital.
Grief. He’d come to Annette’s house to see her, like he’d promised, but he had been weighed down with grief, which again now settled on his shoulders like a cloak.
Yansin swallowed, hard. “She died a long time ago.”
Did something happen, that night in the capital, to remind him of his lost friend? Zari didn’t wish to prod a painful memory. Instead, she took a sip of water, and drew small, looping circles on the dusty table. “I am sorry.”
BANG !
An impact shuddered through the house, as if something large had been smashed into a wall.
Yansin shouted, “Hide!”