“She is too young to fly,” Jes muttered softly. “We wouldn’t be able to keep her safe.”
The Guardian was silent, and Jes couldn’t tell if he was listening, or if he’d closed himself off entirely. The latter was dangerous. When the Guardian emerged from such hibernations, he was gorged with anger, impossible to reason with.
But there was no answer, so Jes went back to put Hennea to bed. She was in a different position than the one in which he’d left her—she’d tried to get up, he thought.
Her hair was dark with sweat, and dark circles ringed her eyes. It looked to him as if she’d lost weight, too, as if the power she’d given Mother had come from her own flesh.
Tenderly, he picked her up into his arms.
<Ours,> claimed the Guardian.
“If she chooses,” he told the other firmly, not hiding his relief that the Guardian had not retreated. “Don’t push her away.”
“Jes?” she murmured.
“Putting you to bed,” he told her.
<Papa told Mother that she loves us.>
Jes felt a wide smile break across his face. “He did.”
The Guardian shared the sweet scent of her skin with him, so he let the Guardian feel how strongly she desired to rest in their arms, safe.
He tucked her into her bed, next to Rinnie’s. Like the wall, it was newly made yesterday. She was mostly asleep, and he brushed his hand lightly over her cheek because he could not resist both his desire and the Guardian’s.
She opened her eyes, pale and unfocused. “Jes,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Remind me. Tomorrow. Maps and Colossae. It’s important. For your father.”
He felt the Guardian swell with… some nameless emotion at the sound of the name of the ancient city.
“I’ll remind you,” Jes told her as he pushed aside a flashing vision of a city he’d never seen before.
The strange insights frightened the Guardian. Jes could feel that fear rising up and the anger that burned the fear to ash, rage that Jes swallowed and swallowed until it hurt to breathe.
“Jes?”
“We should tell someone,” he muttered quickly. Maybe someone could help us understand what is happening. Help us to prepare. That was it, he thought. The Guardian was afraid of something that was going to happen when he remembered too much. Something bad.
“Tomorrow. We’ll tell your mother,” murmured Hennea, misunderstanding what he’d said.
The Guardian had heard him, too. Jes could tell because the other’s towering rage dulled to a sullen burn that he could better tolerate.
Hennea subsided into sleep. Jes let himself pet her hair once before he left her to rest beside his sister and wandered out to stand in front of the fireplace.
<Tell whom?> asked the Guardian long after Jes had expected a response.
Mother? No, she hurts for us and feels guilty. I don’t want that. Papa? Maybe Lehr. He’s very smart. He deliberately didn’t mention Hennea. If her worry for him was already keeping her away, he didn’t want her to have anything else to worry about.
<No one for now,> the Guardian decided. But Jes could tell that the thought of sharing the change with someone made him feel better. <But we could tell someone if we need to. We might need to.>
CHAPTER 7
The Guardian appeased for the moment, Jes could payattention to the quiet discussion in his parents’ loft.
“I thought I’d just ride back to where Benroln left us,” Lehr was saying. “I can track them from there.”
“There might be an easier way,” Tier said. “Your mother said Willon gave you a map before you set out for Taela.”
“I’ll get it,” Lehr said.
“I can get the map,” Jes told him. “I know where Mother put it.”
Mother had stored it in the chest where Papa kept some souvenirs from the wars. He took it and scrambled up the ladder.
His mother lay in bed under the covers. Her hair was sweat-darkened, and below her eyes were rings of exhaustion so dark they looked like bruises. Her breathing was shallow, and she made small sounds, like a tired child.
The Guardian came out to see for himself that she was safe. Jes touched the covers just above her feet and felt her in a sleep so deep she didn’t even dream.
The Guardian settled down once he was certain every care had been taken for her. Papa sat on his side of the bed and Lehr was cross-legged on the floor; both of them had watched the Guardian and allowed him the time he needed.
There was enough room for Jes on the narrow space between the foot of the bed and the ladder. He handed Papa the map and settled on the floorboards.
“Thanks,” said Papa as he took the map and spread it on the bedding in front of him.
He studied it for a moment, then tapped his finger. “That’s where we parted company. This is the road Benroln took.” He let his finger slide down the map toward him.
Jes couldn’t read the map upside down, the lettering was too fancy—but the Guardian could.
“Edren,” said Papa. “Upsarian. Colbern.” He hesitated, then tapped his finger on the last city he’d mentioned. “Willon took this lower road back here—” He drew his hand along the lowest of three roads that both ran east and west. “It’s a better road for a wagon—there are bridges instead of fords. He passed by Colbern, he said. It’s a town about the size of Leheigh. They’d closed their gates to visitors. Plague.”
The Guardian, who had been amusing himself by pointing out the inaccuracies in the map to Jes, abruptly came to the alert.
Papa looked at Lehr. “I’ve been wondering what disaster called to Benroln when there was a shadow-tainted troll here they could have been fighting instead. A plague would do.”
“Lehr can’t go,” the Guardian growled.
Lehr’s eyebrows climbed almost to his hairline, but before he could give whatever retort was doubtless on the tip of his tongue, Papa said, “I agree. It’s too dangerous.”
Lehr clenched his fists. “I’m not a child. I know how to protect myself from plague. I won’t touch anyone. I won’t share food or clothing. Mother said to get Brewydd, and that’s what I’m going to do.” He got to his feet, and the Guardian rose up with him, blocking him in.
Lehr is right, Jes told him. Father needs Brewydd, and Lehr is not stupid. He knows how to protect himself.
He received a picture in his head of someone dying. Their face lay in the shadows so he couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman, but he could feel the Guardian’s consuming grief.
Brewydd will be there, he reminded him.
“Jes?” His father’s quiet voice penetrated the internal argument.
<Brewydd will be there,> agreed the Guardian before withdrawing slowly. Brewydd would not let Lehr get sick.
“Brewydd will be there,” Jes told Papa, and heard Lehr’s relieved breath.
“Let me go,” Lehr said to Papa. “I can do this.”
Papa rubbed his face wearily. “All right. All right. Get a good night’s rest and go in the morning. Take this map.” He folded it and handed it to Lehr. “You can see the shortest route there.”
Jes got up and began to go down the ladder stairs so Lehr could get past him.
“I want to talk to you, Jes,” Papa said.
Jes nodded and jumped down to the floor, bending his knees so that he hit softly and didn’t wake up Hennea or Rinnie.
Lehr, coming down behind him, said, “Thanks,” softly.
Jes nodded and scrambled back up to his parents’ loft. “Papa?”
“Close the door and sit down, son.”
Jes shut the door, then took up Lehr’s place because, with the door shut, there was no room for him where he’d been sitting.