Chapter 27: Giving up on subtlety

Any boy who gives you his attention easily is probably not worth your own attention.

-Brentna

Leenda tried several things to get Wrend’s attention. She walked a little ways in front of him and darted down an alley in a suspicious manner. When he didn’t respond to that, but walked right past, she hurried on ahead to the outside of the village, to the edge of the city of tents and wagons. There, she stood in the darkness between two tents and whistled at him as he walked by. Again, he either didn’t notice or ignored her.

Frustrated, she folded her arms. She wanted to be subtle with how she got him out into the forest. There were too many paladins, priests, and serving girls around to make a scene. It would already be hard enough to convince Wrend that he had a draegon’s soul, without the complication from unwanted participants.

She watched his back as he meandered down the street between the tents. He wore the traditional outfit of a Novitiate: a simple white woolen shirt with long sleeves and gray woolen pants tucked into black boots. He walked without purpose, as if his thoughts had consumed any awareness of the world around him.

From the direction he’d just come, a group of giggling serving girls approached. Leenda backed further into the shadows and crouched out of sight. The girls passed, gossiping about some boys, and didn’t notice Leenda. She listened as their voices trailed off down the street; it was no wonder she’d never gotten along with any of them.

She stayed there for a moment, hugging herself against the chill of the clear night and wishing for a goat-gutted coat. She’d protected herself against the cold of the mountains with Thew Ichor, but had used so much that she didn’t have much left to warm herself now. A few clouds might have helped keep the temperature up, but not a single one spotted the sky. Directly ahead of her, the sparkling band of stars known as the Spilled Milk illuminated a wide swath of southern sky.

She and Krack had descended into the valley that day, as the population had assembled for the Strengthening and subsequent feast. She’d hidden her son beyond a copse of juniper trees about half a mile outside the village. During most of their journey, they’d managed to stay hidden in the surrounding mountains, but now that they needed to get close to Wrend, they had to risk someone seeing Krack. That wasn’t dangerous, except that if Athanaric found out about a draegon nearby, he would investigate.

After a few moments of thought, Leenda decided that she couldn’t afford subtlety—and she had no patience for it, besides. If someone saw her, she had enough Thew and Flux to get away.

She slunk forward to the edge of the tents and looked both ways. The girls had disappeared into a tent or down another street, but Wrend’s white shirt was visible in the distance. A few paladins stood at the end of the street, their backs toward her and Wrend. She hurried after him, sprinting through the dirt and over the sagebrush. He didn’t even turn at her footsteps, and so jumped in surprise when she came up to his side and slowed her pace to match his.

He gave her a long, confused look.

She smiled. “I want to show you something.”

He stopped walking, and he shook his head as if clearing it from some mind-bending blow.

“What?”

She grinned again—she had his attention—and started to run.