snuck off to go fishing. That's what masters do."
I sat back. I cringed as my hips told me I might
think
they had forgiven me for that afternoon, but they hadn't. Jayat was right. My owner had beaten me when I was a slave, after all. Jooba-Hooba, who was going to be my first master in stone magic, would have beaten me. I bet he would have smiled as he did it. The lady, who tried to buy me for her house and her pet gang, would have beaten me. No, she would have
had
me beaten. She wouldn't have soiled her hands with me. But Briar, who never hit me, kept me away from the lady and Jooba-Hooba.
And Rosethorn?
"She'll set me to weeding acres of gardens for weeks." I tried to sit more comfortably and failed. "Or put me in a small, hot room to cook up nasty messes that have to be stirred all the time. Or cook nasty messes part of the time, and dip candles part of the time. But she would never ever beat anybody."
"But she seems
so fierce
," Jayat said with awe.
"Have you ever made soap?" I asked. "Let me tell you, a temple needs a
lot
of soap. She's quite happy to tell them you'll make it
all
. You watch. I'll be on my way to Winding Circle tomorrow, with orders to make soap and dip candles
forever."
9
How to Get Out of Trouble
The ground floor of the inn was lit up. I didn't wait for Jayat to help me dismount. There was no point in trying to put it off. I slid out of the saddle, hung on for a moment until my body stopped cramping, then lurched inside. I ignored Jayat's shout for me to wait while he saw to the horses. I didn't want him to witness Rosethorn's laying down the law to me. He was bound to hear some of it, but it would be nice if he wasn't there for it
all
.
Inside, the important folk were seated near the hearth fire, as they had been the night before: Rosethorn, Fusspot, Oswin, Azaze. Other grown-ups from the town were there, too. Splendid. More witnesses for my disgrace.
"Well. Her Highness graces us with her presence." Myrrhtide looked as if he'd just swallowed the Midsummer goose whole. "I suppose you're just bubbling over with excuses, aren't you? They won't do you any good this time."
Rosethorn looked at me and folded her hands on the table. There was no way to tell what she was thinking.
"I'll go pack." I headed for the stair, trying not to stumble. If she wasn't even going to speak, I was in worse trouble than I thought. There was no point trying to explain when she was that angry. I may be silly and I may be reckless, but I know better than to make excuses. Sometimes I have to keep my mouth shut and take what's coming.
And maybe, just maybe, she didn't want to humiliate me in front of Myrrhtide. Perhaps she would task me in private, when she came up to bed.
"It appeared to me as if she were under some kind of compulsion," Oswin said thoughtfully.
I froze with my foot on the stair, holding on to the rail. Why did Oswin stick his neb in, as Briar would say? If Rosethorn despised people who were supposed to obey and didn't, she hated mages who couldn't control their magic even more. I turned my aching head to glare at Oswin.
"Look at her." Oswin talked as if I wasn't trying to burn holes in his face with my eyes. "She's pale and sweating. She was that way at midday. She was fidgeting then, too—unable to sit still. She gnawed her nails to the quick by noon today. They weren't chewed at all on the way here from Sustree. Her lips are dry and cracked. She looks as if she had been taking poppy or was under a spell of compulsion—"
"Nonsense," Rosethorn told him coldly.
Jayat came in. He put a hand under my elbow to help me stay on my feet. I tried not to lean on him too much. I have my pride.
"You told Dedicate Initiate Myrrhtide Evvy's behavior is highly unlike her. Surely you'll let her explain before you send her packing." Oswin was mad-brained stubborn, to keep hammering with Rosethorn, Fusspot,
and
me glaring at him.
"He's right." Now Jayat had to pitch in. "I was with Evvy on the road up from the
I sat back. I cringed as my hips told me I might
think
they had forgiven me for that afternoon, but they hadn't. Jayat was right. My owner had beaten me when I was a slave, after all. Jooba-Hooba, who was going to be my first master in stone magic, would have beaten me. I bet he would have smiled as he did it. The lady, who tried to buy me for her house and her pet gang, would have beaten me. No, she would have
had
me beaten. She wouldn't have soiled her hands with me. But Briar, who never hit me, kept me away from the lady and Jooba-Hooba.
And Rosethorn?
"She'll set me to weeding acres of gardens for weeks." I tried to sit more comfortably and failed. "Or put me in a small, hot room to cook up nasty messes that have to be stirred all the time. Or cook nasty messes part of the time, and dip candles part of the time. But she would never ever beat anybody."
"But she seems
so fierce
," Jayat said with awe.
"Have you ever made soap?" I asked. "Let me tell you, a temple needs a
lot
of soap. She's quite happy to tell them you'll make it
all
. You watch. I'll be on my way to Winding Circle tomorrow, with orders to make soap and dip candles
forever."
9
How to Get Out of Trouble
The ground floor of the inn was lit up. I didn't wait for Jayat to help me dismount. There was no point in trying to put it off. I slid out of the saddle, hung on for a moment until my body stopped cramping, then lurched inside. I ignored Jayat's shout for me to wait while he saw to the horses. I didn't want him to witness Rosethorn's laying down the law to me. He was bound to hear some of it, but it would be nice if he wasn't there for it
all
.
Inside, the important folk were seated near the hearth fire, as they had been the night before: Rosethorn, Fusspot, Oswin, Azaze. Other grown-ups from the town were there, too. Splendid. More witnesses for my disgrace.
"Well. Her Highness graces us with her presence." Myrrhtide looked as if he'd just swallowed the Midsummer goose whole. "I suppose you're just bubbling over with excuses, aren't you? They won't do you any good this time."
Rosethorn looked at me and folded her hands on the table. There was no way to tell what she was thinking.
"I'll go pack." I headed for the stair, trying not to stumble. If she wasn't even going to speak, I was in worse trouble than I thought. There was no point trying to explain when she was that angry. I may be silly and I may be reckless, but I know better than to make excuses. Sometimes I have to keep my mouth shut and take what's coming.
And maybe, just maybe, she didn't want to humiliate me in front of Myrrhtide. Perhaps she would task me in private, when she came up to bed.
"It appeared to me as if she were under some kind of compulsion," Oswin said thoughtfully.
I froze with my foot on the stair, holding on to the rail. Why did Oswin stick his neb in, as Briar would say? If Rosethorn despised people who were supposed to obey and didn't, she hated mages who couldn't control their magic even more. I turned my aching head to glare at Oswin.
"Look at her." Oswin talked as if I wasn't trying to burn holes in his face with my eyes. "She's pale and sweating. She was that way at midday. She was fidgeting then, too—unable to sit still. She gnawed her nails to the quick by noon today. They weren't chewed at all on the way here from Sustree. Her lips are dry and cracked. She looks as if she had been taking poppy or was under a spell of compulsion—"
"Nonsense," Rosethorn told him coldly.
Jayat came in. He put a hand under my elbow to help me stay on my feet. I tried not to lean on him too much. I have my pride.
"You told Dedicate Initiate Myrrhtide Evvy's behavior is highly unlike her. Surely you'll let her explain before you send her packing." Oswin was mad-brained stubborn, to keep hammering with Rosethorn, Fusspot,
and
me glaring at him.
"He's right." Now Jayat had to pitch in. "I was with Evvy on the road up from the
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