“I can’t promise no danger exists,” she admitted. “But if the dragon always smoothed our path, it would weaken us.”
“You could be in danger,” Dirk said. His eyes glinted.
“The soldier won’t hurt me.” His manner made her more uncomfortable than Darz had ever done.
“Your gentle nature is well known.” Dirk moistened his lips as he stared at her. “But virtue is a poor defense against brutality.”
She flushed, unsettled. He called her gentle, yet it made him angry. Or not angry exactly, but hungry somehow. “It is true, we must be careful,” she said. “The Dragon-Sun has set us a trial. We must rise to that challenge.”
“How can you be sure the sun sent him?” Dirk demanded. “More likely he deserted from the army, and we should send him home for punishment.”
“I can’t guarantee he is neither evil nor a deserter.” Ginger knew she had no business contradicting such a respected citizen, someone nearly three times her age. But she plunged on. “I can say this—I have no sense either of those things is true.”
The Elder spoke, and his voice carried. “Ginger-Sun, your kindness and sweet nature are well known and appreciated. But that innocence can lead you to misjudge danger.”
Sweat had gathered on Ginger’s palms. “I wish I could offer proof. I can’t, I can only ask you to trust my judgment.”
Grumbles came from the crowd. Dirk continued to stand, his gaze harsh, and she knew he wanted to escalate his confrontation. Nothing like this had happened to her before. She was certain he wanted to hurt her. Why? Surely not just because she spoke in public. She was out of her depth here, and she felt as if she were sinking into the sand.
When Ginger said nothing more, simply stood, waiting, Dirk frowned. He started to speak, then scowled. Finally he took his seat. The Elder stepped forward and stood with Ginger as he addressed the meeting. “If our priestess is willing to risk her own well-being, surely we can support and protect her.”
The tensed set of Ginger’s shoulders relaxed. He wasn’t going to censure her. But she felt his disapproval; she had known him for too many years to be fooled. Too late, she realized he might feel she had shamed him with her willingness to confront this danger after he had counseled otherwise.
Hoping to defuse his anger, she spoke in a low voice. “You honor me, Elder.”
Tajman studied her with a penetrating gaze. He said nothing, and she was suddenly very afraid of him. But then he inclined his head to her with respect.
Ginger took her leave of the platform, walking in the small steps forced on her by the tight wrap. In her side vision, she could see Dirk Bauxite watching her with an intensity that made hairs on her neck prickle.
Kindle, the Flame Sentinel, was hovering at the stairs, still looking as if he wanted to help. She smiled unsteadily at him, glad someone in the room didn’t want to condemn her. Then she made her way down the stairs, step by excruciating step. When she reached the bottom, she saw Dirk wet his lips as he stared at her. If a person’s gaze could have burned, she would have been engulfed in flame.
The meeting ended soon after, but Ginger felt no relief. She feared she had made enemies today.
Harjan took Ginger home in his cart, then joined his mining crew, which was gathering to work on a bluff not far away. Ginger felt reassured to know they would watch the temple now that she had returned.
The main temple wasn’t empty. Darz was sitting on the ledge of the fountain, staring into the water. She hadn’t realized he would be up and about, and she tensed, worried he could have passed out while she was gone. After the way the meeting had gone today, she was disillusioned enough to wonder if people would be relieved should he fall in the water and drown, for they would no longer have to worry about him.
He had been at the temple for five days. He looked less strange today, dressed in an old pair of trousers and a work shirt Harjan had given him. His face was easier to read now that his bruises were clearing. He seemed lost in thought. He trailed his fingers in the water, then cupped his hands and drank.
Ai! More offenses against the dragon. Perhaps she should just give up and run away to join a caravan, given how angry the Dragon-Sun would be if he was watching her today.
She came up next to Darz. “You do realize,” she said, “that you just committed sacrilege.”
“Ho!” He jumped to his feet and spun around, reaching across his body for his nonexistent sword, his face twisted into a snarl. If she hadn’t spent the last five days feeding and cleaning him, she probably would have been terrified. After the town meeting, though, an enraged warrior paled in comparison. Either that, or she was too frightened to register the emotion.
“Goodness,” she said.
“Gods almighty, woman!” he bellowed. “Never sneak up on me!”
“I did not sneak up,” she said. “And don’t shout at me.”
Unexpectedly, he winced. “Sorry.” He glanced at her feet. “Don’t you wear slippers? I couldn’t hear you.”
She shook her head. “It is forbidden for me to wear them.”
“Why the blazes for?”
“It says in the ancient scrolls. ‘The chosen of the Dragon-Sun will walk softly on the soles of her feet, so as never to disturb his exalted mentations.’”
“For flaming sake,” he said. “Those writings are a thousand years old. No one even knows what they mean.” He gave a snort. “I’ll tell you what. Your elders don’t want you to wear shoes because that makes it easier to keep you penned in the temple.”
She shrugged. “I’ve gone barefoot for years. It doesn’t bother me.”
“You walked all the way to town like that?”
“Harjan gave me a ride.” She smiled at his annoyance. “Don’t worry. If I need slippers, I use them.” The elders would disapprove if they knew how often she wore what she wanted, so she didn’t tell them. She couldn’t completely hide it because people often came here, but she downplayed it as much as possible.
“It just all sounds so arcane,” he said.
“Have you never visited a temple before?” She indicated the fountain. “This water is blessed by the Sunset Goddess and goes back out pipes to irrigate crops. We can’t use it for ourselves without the proper rites.” The sparkling liquid came from underground springs, the village’s most valuable resource. The water source wasn’t extensive enough to support more than five hundred people, but that was enough for Sky Flames. Just barely.
“I’ve spent little time in temples,” Darz admitted. He didn’t look as if he thought that situation should be rectified, but he did seem contrite about the water.
“Well, I suspect no harm was done.” She blinked at him. “You certainly have a loud voice.”
To her surprise, he burst out laughing, a rich sound unlike any she had heard before, robust and unaffected. “So people tell me,” he said. “I must say, you’re a brave one. I’ve had people practically jump out of their clothes when I bellowed.”
“Well, then, I suspect you bellow far too much.” Flustered, she added, “And I never jump out of garments.”
His face reddened. “Ah. Well. I didn’t mean—that is, I would never think—” He cleared his throat, obviously trying not to think whatever it was he never thought.
After a moment, he said, “That dress is gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” she said, self-conscious.
Darz rubbed the back of his neck. “I noticed that, uh, you don’t seem to have any, well—young man who visits.”
Ginger wasn’t certain what he meant, that young men didn’t visit the temple, or that no one in particular came to see her. She spoke carefully, aware she was skirting the limits of what was proper. “Anyone of any age may seek my blessings.”
“Yes, well, I’m surprised crowds of suddenly pious young fellows aren’t out here seeking them daily.”
Her cheeks heated. “They go for their ten years army service when they are seventeen. Many don’t come back.”
“It’s manda
tory here for men to do ten years in the army?”
“Isn’t it everywhere?”
He snorted. “It’s not mandatory to do ten seconds. We’re encouraged to go for one tour, and many men do, but that’s five years.”
It didn’t surprise her. “Heath told me that, too, when he came home. He only stayed in five years. He was furious at the elders. He said they were taking advantage of me to do all the work in the temple because he wasn’t here to protest.”
“Who is Heath?” Darz hardly seemed to have heard the rest. “Your young man?”
She gave a startled laugh. “Goodness, no. He’s my brother.”
“Ah.” His posture relaxed. “Didn’t you have acolytes?”
“I was the acolyte.” She shook her head. “I haven’t found any girls interested in taking on those duties. It’s frustrating. Everyone seems to feel I’m young enough that they don’t need to worry about it.”
“Your elders should send you help from the village.”
In her less generous moments, similar thoughts had occurred to Ginger. She said only, “It’s forbidden.”
He made an exasperated noise. “No, it isn’t.” He stopped, then said, “Well, yes, I suppose you can’t have the uninitiated mucking about a temple. But it’s always possible to find help. You shouldn’t have to shoulder the responsibility for this entire place alone.”
“Heath does the heavy work,” she assured him. “Harjan, too. Jalla, the Archivist’s daughter, comes to visit, and she helps me inside.”
He looked mollified. But then he said, “I know exactly why you can’t get help.”
She smiled, amused. “Now you are an expert on Sky Flames?”
Darz glared at her. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”
“Do tell.”
He crossed his arms. “Most girls your age can’t help you because they’re married, with husbands more than ten years older and children. Others went with their young men to wherever the boys were stationed with the army. And that’s not all I’ve figured out, Ginger-Sun. A stream of single men comes here to set up mining claims, don’t they? Friction exists between them and the townsfolk, especially among unmarried men, because there’s a shortage of women. Sometimes the newcomers carouse and cause trouble, which makes your people even more suspicious. That’s why no one wants me here.”
She gaped at him for a full five seconds before she found her voice. “How did you know all that?”
“Partially guessing,” he admitted. “I’ve heard it happens in these mining outposts near the Jazid border. This area is rich with minerals, but it’s a rough life. So you see a lot more men than women.” Wryly he added, “It’s no wonder your elders send all those restless young bucks off to the army.”
Although Ginger had never thought about it in such terms, she knew Heath kept his friends away from her. “When my brother came back, three of his army friends came with him. They’re all miners now.” She gave him a rueful smile. “The only reason Heath isn’t hulking around here, keeping an eye on you, is because they took a shipment of silver to J’Hiza, to negotiate with the merchants.” Wistfully, she added, “You’ll probably be gone by the time he returns.”
To her disappointment, he said, “Probably.” Then he scowled at her. “You shouldn’t tell strangers that one of your main protectors is gone. Gods only know what could happen to a girl like you, alone, out here.”
“But I’m not alone. The villagers protect me.” She hesitated. “And I guess I don’t think of you as a stranger.”
His expression softened. “Thank you.”
“Would you like some water? I can bring you a carafe I’ve prepared. It’s all right to drink it if I’ve done the rites.”
“Yes, that would be excellent.”
“I will make a bargain with you,” she decided.
He watched her curiously. “And what might this entail?”
“If you go back to your room to rest, I’ll get the water.”
“Rest!” His smile turned into a glower. “I’ve been resting for five days. I’m going mad. I shall be a raving lunatic soon.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Soon?”
“I thought all you priestesses were the embodiment of sweetness,” he grumbled.
She made shooing motions with her hands. “Go on. Go back to your room. I’ll be there in a moment.”
“I can’t believe you talk to me this way. Me, a soldier of Her Majesty’s army.” When she started to tell him what she thought about that, he laughed and held up his hands, the age-old request for mercy. “I’m going!”
“I’ll see you there.”
Darz went off, grumbling good-naturedly, which for some reason made her feel soft inside.
As Ginger headed to her rooms, she mulled over everything that had happened. The elders would never let him remain in the temple if they saw him up and about. And he wouldn’t stay put much longer. But he wasn’t ready to set off in the desert. J’Hiza, the nearest town was more than a day’s ride from here, and he had no supplies or horse. Moving him to town was the sensible option. If Tajman knew Darz was well enough to move, though, he would probably decide their guest was well enough to leave.
Deep in thought, she walked into her suite—
And slipped in a pool of blood.
5
The Trespass
Ginger’s cry rang out. Confined by her wrap, she couldn’t jump back or even swing her arms for balance. She fell on the stone, hitting her hip as she caught herself with her hands. In front of her, in the doorway of her parlor, a pool of blood had spread in an ugly red blotch.
Frantic, she struggled to her feet and backed away, leaving bloody footprints—until she thudded into someone.
“No!” She whirled around, trying to bring her arms up to defend herself, but the tight sleeves of the wrap made it impossible.
Darz. It was Darz. He had put up his hands to stop her from knocking him over, and now he took hold of her upper arms. “Saints, Ginger-Sun, what happened?”
“On the floor.” Her arm trembled as she turned and pointed to the blood.
It suddenly hit her that he was holding her. This wasn’t like when she had tended his injuries; now he deliberately put his hands on her. It was also the first time they had stood together when she wasn’t supporting him, and she was acutely aware of his height, that he was taller and heavier than most men and she smaller than many women. The situation rattled her so much, she lurched back from him.
He was staring past her to her room. “Wait here,” he said.
“I’ve taken care of this temple for years,” she said, edgy with the turmoil of her thoughts. “And I’ve taken care of you for five days. Now that you can walk, don’t treat me like I’m some helpless female you have to hide in silk wraps and bare feet.” Until she said the words, she didn’t realize how angry she was, not at him, but at the elders. She always held her anger inside and told herself it didn’t exist.
“All right,” he said. “Show me.”
She was so stunned, she just stood and gaped at him. She had once—only once—spoken with such anger in the village. She had lashed out at Second Sentinel Spark when he refused to let her tend an injured miner. Her defiance had infuriated him, and she had feared he would hit her. As much as she resented it, he had that right as an elder of the village. He restrained himself, but later Elder Tajman had come to the temple and told Ginger she must spend two days in penance, meditating on her “unseemly behavior.” It angered her that they punished her when she had only wanted to help someone who was suffering, and two days locked in an acolyte’s cell had been dreadfully boring, but it was better than having Spark beat her.
Ginger took a deep breath and led Darz to the archway of her parlor. As he knelt to examine the blood, she stared at the streak of red her foot had left on the tiles.
He looked up at her, his face drawn. “This could be from a goat or a sheep. But we’ll have to check your suite to see if anyone is inside.”
&
nbsp; His pallor worried Ginger. “You shouldn’t be taking such risks when just a few days ago you were the one who was dying.”
He rose to his feet, and his lips curved upward. “Don’t treat me like I’m some helpless invalid you have to hide in sleep clothes and bare feet.”
She gave a startled laugh. Had she really been so bold to say the like to him? “Fair enough.”
He raised his hand, and for a moment, she thought he would touch her. Then he flushed and dropped his arm.
Ginger wasn’t sure which bothered her more, that he had almost touched her again or that she wished he hadn’t held back. Torn by her confused emotions, she walked inside, scanning the parlor. Her vases from Kuzla Quian stood half as tall as a person, but they were too thin for someone to hide behind. The chairs and divan were woven wicker that she could see through. The tables were simple affairs, enameled in blue, white and rose, with no parts that could provide a hiding place. The arch to her bedroom had no door, and its curtain of beads was tied up on either side.
“Is anything out of place?” Darz asked.
Startled, she realized he had followed her inside as if it were perfectly natural. She knew she should tell him to leave, but she was afraid to be alone.
“Everything looks normal,” she said.
He went to the archway of her bedroom. The room was much like this one, except for the bed, which at the moment lacked its fluffy quilt, blankets and cushions, leaving a bare mattress on a frame reinforced with sunwood slats. Seeing Darz look at the place where she slept set her cheeks burning.
“Gods,” he muttered. “You could stay here, and you’ve been sleeping on the floor in my room?” He glanced at her. “I owe you even more thanks than I knew.”
“It’s no trouble. I slept on the floor of that cell for six years.”
“Gods almighty, why?”
“That’s what acolytes do.”
“It sounds cruel to me.” He motioned at her bedroom. “Does anything look out of place there?”
“Not a thing.” She walked into the sunny room, sweeping her gaze over the furniture, vases, her scrolls, the walls, the dragon in its niche—