“Hush,” Elodin said. “She’s coming.” He reached out to grip my shoulder, and moonlight fell across his face. His expression wasn’t fierce and hard at all. There was nothing but puzzlement and concern. “Lord and lady, you’re shaking. Take a breath and put your stage face on. You’ll scare her if she sees you like this.”
I took a deep breath and fought to relax. Elodin’s concerned expression faded and he stepped back, letting go of my shoulder.
I turned in time to see Auri scurry across the roof toward us, her arms full. She stopped a short distance away, eyeing us both, before coming the rest of the way, stepping carefully as a dancer until she was back where she originally stood. Then she sat down lightly on the roof, crossing her legs beneath herself. Elodin and I sat as well, though not nearly as gracefully.
Auri unfolded a cloth, lay it carefully between the three of us, then set a large, smooth wooden platter in the middle. She brought out the cinnas fruit and sniffed it, her eyes peering over the top of it. “What is in this?” she asked Elodin.
“Sunshine,” he said easily, as if he’d expected the question. “And early morning sunshine at that.”
They knew each other. Of course. That was why she hadn’t run away at the outset. I felt the solid bar of tension between my shoulder blades ease slightly.
Auri sniffed the fruit again and looked thoughtful for a moment. “It is lovely,” she declared. “But Kvothe’s things are lovelier still.”
“That stands to reason,” Elodin said. “I expect Kvothe is a nicer person than I am.”
“That goes without saying,” Auri said primly.
Auri served up dinner, sharing out the bread and fish to each of us. She also produced a squat clay jar of brined olives. It made me glad to see she could provide for herself when I wasn’t around.
Auri poured beer into my familiar porcelain teacup. Elodin got a small glass jar of the sort you would use to store jam. She filled his cup for the first round but not the second. I was left wondering if he was simply out of easy reach, or if it was a subtle sign of her displeasure.
We ate without speaking. Auri delicately, taking tiny bites, her back straight. Elodin cautiously, occasionally darting a glance at me as if he were unsure how to behave. I guessed from this that he’d never shared a meal with Auri before.
When we were finished with everything else, Auri brought out a small, bright knife and divided the cinnas fruit into three parts. As soon as she broke the skin of it, I could smell it on the air, sweet and sharp. It made my mouth water. Cinnas fruit came from a long way off and was simply too expensive for people like me.
She held out my piece and I took it from her gently. “Thank you kindly, Auri.”
“You are welcome kindly, Kvothe.”
Elodin looked back and forth between the two of us. “Auri?”
I waited for him to finish his question, but that seemed to be all of it.
Auri understood before I did. “It’s my name,” she said, grinning proudly.
“Is it now?” Elodin said curiously.
Auri nodded. “Kvothe gave it to me.” She beamed in my direction. “Isn’t it marvelous?”
Elodin nodded. “It is a lovely name,” he said politely. “And it suits you.”
“It does,” she agreed. “It is like having a flower in my heart.” She gave Elodin a serious look. “If your name is getting too heavy, you should have Kvothe give you a new one.”
Elodin nodded again and took a bite of his cinnas. As he chewed, he turned to look at me. By the light of the moon, I saw his eyes. They were cool, thoughtful, and perfectly, utterly sane.
After we finished our dinner, I sang a few songs, and we said our good-byes. Elodin and I walked away together. I knew at least a half-dozen ways to climb down from the roof of Mains, but I let him take the lead.
We made our way past a round stone observatory that stuck up from the roof and moved onto a long stretch of reasonably flat lead sheeting.
“How long have you been coming to see her?” Elodin asked.
I thought about it. “Half a year? It depends on when you start counting. It took a couple span of playing before I caught a glimpse of her, more before she trusted me enough to talk.”
“You’ve had better luck than I have,” he said. “It’s been years. This is the first time she’s come within ten paces of me. We barely speak a dozen words on a good day.”
We climbed over a wide, low chimney and back onto a gentle slope of thick timber sealed with layers of tar. As we walked I grew more anxious. Why had he been trying to get close to her?
I thought about the time I had gone to Haven with Elodin to visit his giller, Alder Whin. I thought about Auri there. Tiny Auri, strapped to a bed with thick leather belts so she couldn’t hurt herself or thrash around while she was being fed.
I stopped walking. Elodin took a few more steps before turning to look at me.
“She’s my friend,” I said slowly.
He nodded. “That much is obvious.”
“And I don’t have enough friends that I could bear to lose one,” I said. “Not her. Promise me you won’t tell anyone about her or bundle her off to Haven. It’s not the right place for her.” I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “I need you to promise me.”
Elodin tilted his head to one side. “I’m hearing an or else,” he said, amusement in his voice. “Even though you’re not actually saying it. I need to promise you or else. . . .” One corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry little smile.
When he smiled, I felt a flash of anger mingled with anxiety and fear. It was followed by the sudden, hot taste of plum and nutmeg in my mouth, and I became very conscious of the knife I had strapped to my thigh underneath my pants. I felt my hand slowly sliding into my pocket.
Then I saw the edge of the roof a half-dozen feet behind Elodin, and I felt my feet shift slightly, getting ready to sprint and tackle him, bearing us both off the roof and down to the hard cobblestones below.
I felt a sudden, cold sweat sweep over my body and closed my eyes. I took a deep, slow breath and the taste in my mouth faded.
I opened my eyes again. “I need you to promise me,” I said. “Or else I’ll probably do something stupid beyond all mortal ken.” I swallowed. “And both of us will end up the worse for it.”
Elodin looked at me. “What a remarkably honest threat,” he said. “Normally they’re much more growlish and gristly than that.”
“Gristly?” I asked, emphasizing the ‘t.’ “Don’t you mean grisly?”
“Both,” he said. “Usually there’s a lot of, I’ll break your knees. I’ll break your neck.” He shrugged. “Makes me think of gristle, like when you’re boning a chicken.”
“Ah,” I said. “I see.”
We stared at each other for a moment.
“I’m not going to send anyone to take her in,” he said at last. “Haven is the proper place for some folk. It’s the only place for a lot of them. But I wouldn’t wish a mad dog locked there if there were a better option.”
He turned and started to walk away. When I didn’t follow, he turned to look back at me.
“That’s not good enough,” I said. “I need you to promise.”
“I swear on my mother’s milk,” Elodin said. “I swear on my name and my power. I swear it by the ever-moving moon.”
We started walking again.
“She needs warmer clothes,” I said. “And socks and shoes. And a blanket. And they need to be new. Auri won’t take anything that’s been worn by anyone else. I’ve tried.”
“She won’t take them from me,” Elodin said. “I’ve left things out for her. She won’t touch them.” He turned to look at me. “If I give them to you, will you pass them along?”
I nodded. “In that case she also needs about twenty talents, a ruby the size of an egg, and a new set of engraving tools.”
Elodin gave an honest, earthy chuckle. “Does she also need lute strings?”
I nodded. “Two pair, if you can get them.”
“Why Auri?” Elodin asked.