Under the Willow Root

Chapter 42

I go to Caris two days later, half expecting to find her shop empty, but she's there. She gives me my check-up and boost without any sign that something's wrong. Sadra must not have said anything. I wish I could ask her, but I haven't seen her since our fight. I had to hear from Feli and Kana that she took a two-week trial for a potential position in a wealthy merchant's household on the other side of the City.

Things with Luca are almost back to normal, but not completely. There's still the question of my "troubles" hanging between us. Neither of us has brought it up, but it's there. It's almost more of an issue for not talking about it. Every time I change the subject or he carefully avoids asking a question, it reminds us both that I'm keeping secrets. It's frustrating, but I don't know what I can do about it.

I stew over it all the way home from the theater district where Luca just treated me to a romantic evening that I couldn't enjoy even a little bit between the weight of my secret and the ache of missing-slash-being-annoyed-at Sadra. After an almost unbearably awkward goodbye, I mount the Temple steps alone. He didn't even kiss me. I kick the last step in irritation, wondering if it's even worth trying anymore. Maybe it was stupid to think that I could have both Luca and my dream of going home.

"Sadra's home," Kana tells me as I enter the Temple. "Are you going to make up now?"

"Does everyone know our business?" I ask exasperatedly.

"You haven't exactly been subtle about it," Kana snorts. "You've both been growling and snapping at people for weeks. And let me tell you, it's getting very old."

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "I know I haven't been that pleasant to be around. If it helps any, I'm tired of it, too."

"Well, work it out," Kana tells me firmly. "You'll end up killing each other, otherwise. Unless one of the rest of us does it first."

I find Sadra sitting on my bed, idly strumming a guitar-like instrument. I stop in the doorway and we stare at each other. I, for one, am at a complete loss. I have no idea what to say. But after several long moments of silence, I speak.

"I didn't mean any of it," I say.

"I should have come sooner," she says at the same time.

We laugh and I move to sit next to her.

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "I shouldn't have said those things."

"Forgiven," she says, waving her hand dismissively. "But I've been thinking about what you said...how I treat you like a child."

"Sadra, I didn't mean it. I was just angry--"

"You were right," Sadra says. "I do treat you like a child. But it's because you are a child in a lot of ways. You weren't born here. You didn't know the language, you'd never been in the City on your own until a few months ago. And there's still so much you don't know about the world--this world. It's not because I think you're stupid or incompetent or anything like that."

"I know," I say. "You've only ever wanted to help."

"I'm glad you recognize that," Sadra says with a lopsided smile. "Bear it in mind for a few more minutes, alright? I've been thinking about you and Luca, too."

"Sadra, I really don't want to talk about that again," I sigh.

"Just listen to what I have to say and promise to think about it," Sadra says firmly. "And then we never have to talk about it again if you don't want to."

"Alright," I say warily. "Go on."

"I don't mean to belittle your feelings for Luca," Sadra begins. "But you're young. More importantly, this is your first time getting involved with someone. I'm not saying your feelings aren't real or that he doesn't care about you, but you've never done this before. It can be completely overwhelming, especially at your age. It can interfere with your judgment."

"At my age," I scoff. "You're only two years older than I am."

"Maybe, but I started earlier and have a lot more experience than you do," Sadra says calmly. "I've had my heart broken enough times--and gotten in enough trouble on account of a boy--to know that what I'm saying is true. What I don't know is what it's like to be you. I can't imagine what it's been like for you, what it's like now. Just--think about what I said. If you really think staying with Luca is a good idea, that it will make the next few months better for you, I'll say no more about it. But please think about it carefully and at least acknowledge that there is some danger."

"Is that it?" I ask after a minute of silence.

"That's it," Sadra says. "Promise you'll think about it?"

"I'll think about it," I say, thinking privately that I probably won't, despite my annoyance with Luca. I know I won't give him up, but I'm too glad to have smoothed things over with Sadra to argue the point.

Sadra stays late, entertaining all the girls with stories of the City's elite. Everyone seems relieved to have things back to normal. I know I am. I go to bed thinking that I'll finally be able to fall asleep with a clear head. Instead I find myself thinking guiltily about what Sadra said.

There is a small chance that someone could find out about me. It's a tiny, tiny chance. But if it does happen, we will all be absolutely screwed. It somehow seems more serious now that Sadra is willingly trusting me to make the call. It was a lot easier to blow it all off when it felt like I was being attacked.

I spend the whole night rolling around in bed, first trying to get comfortable and then trying to think of something else and, when neither works, just writhing in mental torment. I don't sleep at all and am wide awake when sunlight starts creeping through the window. It's a beautiful sight, but it makes me feel worse. Even though I can't sleep, the last thing I want to do is drag myself out of bed to start the day.

I do it anyway, though. I'm too grateful to have a job and a roof over my head to risk messing that up. My morning exercises provide some relief. It's the only time I can ever let my mind go completely blank. I go to my first class feeling refreshed and calm, but the feeling dissipates pretty quickly. By lunch, I'm irritable and scratchy. By dinner, people are treating me like a rabid cat, walking on eggshells and giving me a wide berth in the hallways. I must look really messed up, because it can't be anything I said. I haven't said much of anything.

"Been thinking, have you?" Sadra says cheerfully when I meet her at the baths. I glare at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Have you decided?"

"Yes," I sigh. "I'm sorry. It probably is stupid to keep seeing him, but I can't stop. Right or wrong, I just know I won't be able to."

"Well, I suppose there's something to be said for recognizing your own limitations," Sadra says with a slight smile. "So...that's settled, then."

"Mostly," I say. "But...I was hoping you would help me with something. About Luca?"

"I said I'd accept your decision," Sadra says, squeezing my hand. "Pretend all that never happened. I'll help with whatever you need."

I smile at her gratefully and squeeze back. "He's getting frustrated about my keeping secrets. He's saying...well, actually, it's almost exactly what you said. That if he doesn't know what's going on, he can't know if he's doing something dangerous. Obviously, I can't tell him everything, but do you think maybe I should tell him something more?"

"I think you're going to have to," Sadra says. "I can't believe he's lasted even this long without throwing a fit."

"How much is safe to tell?" I wonder. "I've already told him that I'm in trouble, but it isn't enough."

"I'm sure," Sadra agrees. "It must seem like such a tease. I bet it's driving him crazy."

"I think it is," I say, giggling in spite of myself. "There's a vein in his forehead that pops out whenever it comes up."

"Poor Luca!" Sadra laughs. "Well, we'll think of something."

In the end, I tell him--essentially--the simple truth: that there are some bad people who want me dead or captured because I know something they don't want me to know. I don't tell him who the people are or what it is I know, but I make sure he understands that anyone could be a potential threat. I make him promise not to draw any attention to me or my situation.

And...that's all I can do. I just hope it's enough.