When they’d arrived at the winery, they’d all been assigned rooms in the wine-production facility, not currently in use as the summer fruit crops had not yet ripened. Fed had even obtained a blanket and bedroll for her before the others poached them all. Touched by his kindness, Rena had thanked him profusely, for the first time during the long day feeling relaxed and hopeful that the worst was behind her.
Until the present moment.
Rena was filling her water mug when she became aware of hot breath, sour with wine and hasperat,on her neck. “Little missy want to come over and join us for a game or two?”
Squeezing between the buffet table and the riverman, she politely declined. “I’m not much for shafa.”
“We don’t have to play shafa,”he persisted, trudging along behind her, hovering too close for Rena to feel comfortable.
Turning on her heel, she looked him square in the eye. She considered, briefly, whether or not she should play a round of shafain the hope that it would placate her tagalong; he didn’t have a malicious air about him. But from appearances, they had more than enough players, including a few women who worked as servers in the rest-and-sip. Rena wouldn’t be missed. “No, thank you. Perhaps another time,” she said, smiling congenially.
“Look at her!” one of the crewman shouted, pointing. “She smiled at you, Ganty. She likes you.” This pronouncement sent the group into gales of cackling laughter.
“Get back to the game, Ganty,” Fed said, materializing by Rena’s side. Placing a hand on Ganty’s shoulder, he leaned over and whispered loud enough for Rena to hear, “I think Volvin is cheating. You’d better check your icons.”
“That reptile!” Ganty proclaimed, and tottered off.
She exhaled slowly, releasing tension that she didn’t know she had. Whatever remaining appetite Rena had was overtaken by exhaustion. Noticing this, Fed suggested she call it a night. No new word had come from the provincial rangers. There would be no traveling before dawn at the earliest. She received his suggestion gratefully—as she did his companionship when he walked her back to her closet room. At her door, she paused, studying the unusual man who’d been keeping her company. Besides his obvious good looks and genial manner, Fed carried himself with an earnest seriousness she didn’t often find in her peers. Who are you,she thought, and realized she didn’t yet know his name.
“So,” he said.
“So.” Rena took a deep breath, narrowed her eyes, and said, “We probably should exchange names. I’m Rena.”
“I’m Jacob.”
“Jay-cub,” she said, trying to reproduce the “uh” sound the way he said it instead of as an “oh” sound the way she was inclined to do. “Thanks for…for being my steward for the day.”
Jacob grinned at her, a mischievous quality in his smile.
Like an idiot, Rena grinned back. A nagging voice in her head reminded her that a bedroll and relative quiet awaited her, but her feet remained fused to the floor. “How does a human barge worker with a background in archeology learn to write fluent Bajoran?” Rena said, thinking aloud. She rested a hand on her cocked hip, tilted her head thoughtfully. “Not who I would have expected to find in this obscure corner of Bajor.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but I consider myself more a writer by profession than a barge worker or an archeologist.”
A writer, too? Next thing he’ll be telling me that Kai Opaka’s his distant cousin.What was it with Jacob that piqued her curiosity so? Peel back one layer, find a fascinating discovery only to find yet another intriguing bit beneath the first. As much as she was inclined to sit and talk with him for a while longer, she knew she ought to be going to bed and she said so.
“I’ve got some work to do, first,” he said, removing a padd from inside his jumpsuit.
“A story?” she said.
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“You’ll have to let me read it.”
“If I can see your sketches.”
“Fair enough.” Impulsively, Rena leaned up and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek, hoping he would know how much she appreciated his kindness, and slipped into her room without a second look. The sight of the duranjaon the floor triggered a wash of guilt; she immediately regretted her parting gesture. I have nothing to feel bad about. I’ve done nothing wrong. I keep my promises, Topa.
She prepared for bed, stripping down to her chemise, cleaning her teeth and brushing her hair. Just as she was ready to dim the lights, she decided she ought to visit the ’fresher.
As she exited into the hall from her closet, she heard the boisterous shouts echoing from the ongoing “games” Ganty had been intent on her joining. She discovered evidence from their most recent visits pooled on the stone floors—wine, possibly urine—a few doors down from her closet. A chilling scream stopped her. Soundless, she stood and listened. The laughter resumed and she breathed easier, relieved that whatever had prompted the scream hadn’t been too serious. Nevertheless, she walked more swiftly, wanting to avoid any more encounters with Jacob’s inebriated crewmates. Turning the corner, she nearly tripped over Jacob, leaning against the wall, padd on his lap, mouth gaping open in sleep. Why would he be out here? He has a room of his own. This doesn’t make—
In an instant, what seemed to be random pieces clicked into place, especially his odd behavior at supper: Jacob’s reassurances to the contrary, her ongoing safety concerned him. Her initial disappointment at discovering the true motivation for his attentiveness quickly gave way to anxiety. She shivered, perceiving Ganty and the others anew. The sooner she could be asleep behind her own locked door…
Her door didn’t have a lock.
She slept in a seldom-used storage closet intended to house nothing more valuable that empty bottles and crates. If anyone for any reason wanted to get into her room, nothing could stop them—save maybe a self-appointed steward armed with a padd and a good heart. If Jacob had reason to worry, sheought to be worrying. Her heart slammed in her throat.
Rena turned back to her room, pulled her clothes on, and packed up the few possessions she had removed from her knapsack. The noise from the revelers grew louder, increasing her sense of urgency. Her fingers trembled as she fastened up her boots, her mind racing through her options. She had no idea where she would go—back toward the River Road, probably. It couldn’t be as bad as the rangers claimed it was. If she moved quickly, she could reach the bridge crossing to Mylea before dawn.
Hefting her knapsack onto her back, she turned on her heel to leave, spinning smack into Jacob. Startled, she jerked back with a shudder. “You scared me.”
“I’m going with you,” he said, bleary-eyed, obviously still fuzzy from sleep. “Just wait for me to get my gear.”
Rena shook her head. “I’ve lived in this province my whole life. I know the back roads and the dangers better than you do,” she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. Without waiting for Jacob’s reply, she started off down the hall, going toward where she remembered the entrance as being. Unsurprisingly, Jacob was beside her within moments, carrying his own gear.
“You’re going the wrong way,” he said.
“How do you know?” Rena snapped, her nerves getting the better of her.
Taking her by the shoulders, he looked her hard in the eye. “I know we barely know each other and there’s no reason why you should trust me, but I need you to believe that I’ll help you get wherever you’re going. You’re facing treacherous weather and terrain and you’re at least six hours from daylight. You’re in as much danger out there as you are in here.”