Under the Willow Root

Chapter 53

When we finally make it into the little dip between this slope and the next, I sit down in the first clear space I find. It's not like our other campsites. There are thorny bushes all around and no water that I can see. And it's starting to rain. Fantastic.

"Are we stopping?" Ismeni demands as everyone sets down their packs. "We can't stop here."

"We're going to have to," Bard says calmly. "Sasha can't go any farther."

I close my eyes. Is he trying to make her hate me?

"Can you stop doing that?" I demand in English. "Everyone's going to blame me if we stop. I'm fine. I can keep going."

"Cara, it is clear that you cannot," he replies in the same language. "And no one is blaming you."

"She is," I say, scowling at Ismeni.

"Stop that," Ismeni snaps angrily, but she looks almost frightened. "What are you doing?"

"Conversing," Bard says in Common. "In Sasha's native language--one of them, anyway."

"Native language," Ismeni scoffs. "That was no more language than is a dog's barking."

At this, Luca rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Kirit climbs into his lap and curls up with a yawn.

"We're stopping here," Bard says as if Ismeni hadn't spoken. "Sasha needs rest."

"Forgive me," Ismeni says with exaggerated surprise. "I didn't realize. The thief is tired. Of course."

"I'm glad you understand," Bard says with a smile.

I sigh. He has to be baiting her on purpose. There's no way he's that dumb. Anyone can see what's going to happen.

"Of course I don't understand!" Ismeni yells. "I don't understand anything. I don't know where we're going or why you won't tell me, and I certainly don't understand why you insist on coddling that--that thing. What could possibly be so important about her?"

"Sasha has already explained to you what and who she is," Bard says sternly. "That you refuse to believe it is your own affair. You chose to come with us even without knowing our destination. I see no reason that should change."

"Maybe we should tell her," I say, again in English. "Maybe it would help."

"It's up to you," Bard says with a shrug. "But I wouldn't. I've seen the type--it won't help."

"Stop it," Ismeni yells again. I don't know why another language is so upsetting to her. "Somebody tell me what's going on!"

"We're going to someone who can remove the shadow on my mind," I tell her, hoping that Bard is wrong. "The House of Light and Shadow doesn't create thralls. They take people and put a shadow on their minds to keep them silent and controlled. It uses up a person's energy--that's why thralls don't live as long. It's why I've been...having a hard time."

"This--this is all for you?" Ismeni chokes. She looks around wildly. "You believe all that nonsense about thralls? That's why we're out here?"

"I," Bard says with a slight emphasis, "am here because when I was in Sasha's position, I had help. Sadra is here because she's controlling and paranoid, and Lucoran is here because, as he so rightly pointed out, he owes us a debt. Let me remind you that you are here because it's the safest place for you to be and Sasha was kind enough to allow it."

"When you were in her position," Ismeni repeats. "You're saying--"

"I was once a thrall," Bard says. "I spent five years in the mines of the Iron Hills before I found help. Five years without sunlight."