“How did this happen?”
“Trampled. Someone spooked his horses and the caravan ran right over him.”
The sort of attack that could look like an accident. Like what happened to Blister barely three days ago. Could this have been the same person?
“Have you found out who did it?”
“Yes, we have, but I haven’t been informed of the attacker’s identity yet.” He approaches the tent, where four guards stand outside. One of them leaves to find Agni. While we wait, the guard rests his hand on my shoulder, which I imagine is meant for comfort, but I’m so tense that I wrench myself away.
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be.”
I hug my arms to my chest and search around the area. Is this where it happened, right outside of his tent? Or was he attacked somewhere else? I know his horses, and they aren’t jumpy creatures. Gomorrah animals are accustomed to loud noise and strangers.
Agni appears at the tent’s flap. “Sorina.”
“Is he all right?” I ask. I move to pass Agni to enter the tent, but he blocks my path.
“He’s fine. No permanent harm done. But he doesn’t want to see you right now.”
“What? Why not?” He must know how worried I am, how much I need to see him.
“He’s embarrassed. He needs to collect himself—”
“No, no,” my father’s voice unmistakably bellows from inside the tent. “Do not go near my horses. I’ve had Nahim and Wilhemina for over five years. You’d be spooked, too, if I held a torch underneath your legs.”
“He sounds fine,” I say, relieved but also doubly annoyed he doesn’t want me to visit him. And what does he mean about a torch?
I create a simple illusion of myself, standing in front of Agni, while the true me slips around him, inside the tent. It only takes Agni a moment to see through the illusion before he clears his throat and follows after me.
Villiam leans back on a chaise with his leg propped up on an ottoman, wearing a brace and a serious expression. A wineglass rests beside him, mostly empty. His jacket, though mud-stained, is neatly folded on his right.
I let out the breath I was holding. He’s perfectly fine.
Villiam’s eyes fall on me, and he frowns. “Who sent for my daughter? Agni? I specifically said I didn’t want her to see—”
“This wasn’t my doing—” Agni says.
“No one sent for me. I found out on my own,” I say. “And why wouldn’t you want me here? You were attacked! Of course I’d want to be here.”
He waves his hand. “I’m fine. Had a fright, is all. Absolutely dandy.”
“You won’t be walking for six weeks at least, sir,” the doctor mutters from behind him.
“I heard the man who did this was apprehended,” I say. “Is that true? Is he...” I swallow the rest of my words. The man who murdered my family?
“No, he isn’t the same one. But we believe he’s somehow connected,” Villiam says. “We don’t know much, other than that he’s Cartonian. He entered last night and never left.”
“Why would a Cartonian man attack you?”
The room silences. I wonder at first if I’ve said something offensive, and then I realize, by the way everyone exchanges looks, that clearly they know something I do not. I understand that Gomorrah is not popular in the Up-Mountains, but attacking the proprietor is practically an act of war. The Cartonian leaders would never condone such an action.
“Have you done your reading?” Villiam asks.
“Yes,” I lie. I’ve done...most of it. “But what does that have to do—”
“We’ll still be meeting tonight, as we planned,” he says. He slaps the thigh of his bad leg. “I’ve had worse. It’ll take more than a runaway caravan to bring me down.”
“Why can’t we talk now?” I ask. The men in the room exchange more glances, and I get the feeling that I am wasting their time. They’re waiting until I leave to discuss what’s actually important.
I thought Villiam was including me in his work. Turns out all I’ve been given is homework, busywork.
“Because there are still some facts we don’t know but will know soon,” Villiam replies. “We’ll have the answers tonight. Besides, it’s nearly ten o’clock. You should be asleep.”
“Sleep?” I snort. “You think I’ll be able to sleep? Let me see the man who attacked you. You said he’s connected to the man who killed—”
“He’s already dead.” Villiam tosses an empty vial on the floor with only a few drops remaining of a dark liquid. Poison. “Have a guard escort you back to your tent. There’s no point in discussing anything until we have more information. Go help our family pack their belongings. Gomorrah will be leaving by dusk.”
* * *
Unsurprisingly, I barely slept more than a few hours. I roll my sleeping pad up and fasten it closed, and then I toss it into our caravan. Even though Hawk and Unu and Du are still sleeping in the next room, I don’t bother being quiet. I’m still seething from my conversation with Villiam earlier, when he essentially sent me off to bed in front of all those people. He made me look like a child.
Or am I merely acting like a child? They obviously had important matters to discuss, and there was no reason for me to be there. I would have nothing to contribute. I would only impede their progress by asking more questions.
But I have a right to ask questions. My father was attacked. My brother and uncle are dead.
I wish I had a chance to speak with Luca before meeting with Villiam in an hour, after Skull Gate begins to move. But Luca is likely either asleep or packing up his own tent—I shouldn’t bother him. After we returned to Gomorrah from Cartona, I don’t even remember if we said goodbye. I heard about my father, and I ran. I can’t snap at him all morning, not bother to say goodbye to him and then expect his help whenever I want it.
I should have thanked him for coming to my aid in Cartona. Had I been caught in that vanity burning alone, dressed in crow-black, I don’t know what I would have done. I also wish I could thank him for helping me in general. Regardless of whether he finds my illusion-work intellectually interesting, there are hundreds of unsolvable puzzles in Gomorrah. He has chosen to concern himself with mine, and for that I am grateful. I want to tell him that I consider him my friend. That I appreciate his concern. That, apart from my family, he is the only person I trust, who doesn’t seem uncomfortable around me, even after seeing my face. That I like that he thinks of me as floating—
My thoughts stutter to a stop. Do I...do I like Luca? I mean, he’s attractive. That’s obvious. But he’s also arrogant and condescending sometimes, and I cannot stand listening to his Up-Mountainer accent, sounding so posh and above everyone else. Am I only thinking like this because he’s nice to me? Trust me to develop a crush on the first person who doesn’t think I’m a total freak.
I ball my blanket into a fist in frustration. I’m pathetic.
Something slips out of the blanket and clinks to the roll-out bamboo floor. I pick up a small sack of coins and count them. Fifteen gold pieces. Exactly what Jiafu owed me. Where did this come from?
I walk into the main part of our tent, where Nicoleta softly tries to shake Hawk awake. Hawk moans and pulls her pillow over her head. “Nicoleta, did you remember seeing Jiafu the other day after Blister’s...in the evening?”
“No,” she says. “I thought you were going to stop working for him.”
“I never said that.”
“It’s what Gill wanted.”
“Yeah, well, I probably am done with Jiafu now, anyway.”
Nicoleta doesn’t say anything. She slams the table closed so hard that it cracks in the corner. Hawk and Unu and Du all startle awake at once and, chastened, Nicoleta gently lays the table down on the floor. “I don’t understand why we’re staying in this part of the Up-Mountains. These cities...they’re huge. They’re powerful. And they clearly don’t want us here.” Her voice quivers. Nicoleta’s voice never quivers. “I just want to stay in one place for a while. To relax for just a moment.” She starts rolling up the bamboo floor. “Why are we still going north?”