Page 93 of Minor Works of Meda

“Horns,” the half-fae muttered.

“We can’t ask people not to talk,” Oraik said quietly. “It’s too late for that, and it’ll only make news spread faster. Won’t it?”

“What does it matter, at this point,” Kalcedon said. He moodily dug the serving spoon into the lentils and dumped some onto his plate. “If they’re looking, they’ve already found us.”

“Maybe they aren’t,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

“If wishes were stars, sailors wouldn’t get lost,” Oraik said as he cut into his rabbit. “Isn’t that how the saying goes? Anyways. None of us are fit to sail through the night. We’ll leave at dawn.”

Kalcedon and I both said “I’m fine” at the same time. Oraik smiled and shook his head.

“We can make it to Rovileis in two days, if we keep a witch-wind,” Kalcedon said. “No more detours.”

“I’ve been thinking,” I said. I knew how much Oraik had hated his life in the Temple. “Maybe we ought to go to Thianthi.”

Oraik frowned down at his food, slowly flattening a snail with his fork. I would have expected a more excited reaction from him.

“What? Pinnebosq? No.” Kalcedon said.

“Well, it’s as far away as we can get from the Doregall stone,” I reasoned. “And anyways, you’re probably better protection than the Temple.”

“Hm,” Kalcedon said. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased, even though his mask was off. “Rovileis has soldiers and defenses. Iron. And not every threat’s a witch or a faerie.”

Oraik hurriedly set down his fork. He was staring at me, eyes wide.

“It could be fun,” I told Kalcedon.

“...maybe,” Kalcedon admitted.

When we went up to the rooms, Oraik grabbed me by the wrist and held me back. Kalcedon turned to look at us.

“A moment, please,” Oraik begged him. I could feel Kalcedon’s eyes on me, even though I couldn’t see them through the mask. I nodded at him. Slowly, he turned and trudged up the stairs.

“What?”

“Tomorrow, would you—insist on Rovileis?”

“All you’ve done is say you don’t want to go!”

“I know,” Oraik admitted. He scrunched up his face. “But… the faerie’s right. It’s safer.”

“If you wanted to go, why didn’t you say so? Why’d you let me say all that about Thianthi?”

“He already thinks I’m stupid. It’s embarrassing, admitting he was right. Please?”

“I don’t understand.”

Oraik sighed and let go of my wrist. The prince clasped his hands together, stretching his fingers with a frown.

“Those people on Montay were attacked because of me,” he said. “And then on the ship. So many people died. Even Kalcedon almost did. And now, after today, the two of you are in danger again, because of me…”

“But if you hated it there so much…”

“Just promise you’ll break me back out when it’s over,” he said with a weak smile.

“I don’t know, Oraik.”

“I might be selfish sometimes, Meda. But I’m not such a prick that I want everyone else getting hurt because of me. Just—insist on Rovileis tomorrow, please. Is that so much to ask?”

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