Page 120 of In Her Own Rite

I swallow, thinking. “I don’t know. I was thinking about what you told me in the library, about how Saga couldn’t heal your dad’s face after what he did to your mom. Butyouwere able to heal him—not just to save him from scarring, but save his life—when he hurt you so much worse. Maybe you’re the person the ancestors trusted to bring this back, because they thought you’d use it the right way.”

I see her chew the inside of her cheek, thinking. After a minute, her brow furrows, and I reach for the glass from her hands and pour her more water. She takes it from me and takes another few sips, wincing at the taste.

“We shouldn't be talking about this now,” I say. “You need to rest. Do you think you could eat anything? I can get you some crackers from downstairs. Or those awful Triscuits Maren got you. She left another box here somewhere.”

Em shakes her head, closing her eyes and leaning back against the pillows. “I just want to lie down for a while.”

“Okay. I’ll let you rest. Oh, and hey, one more thing.”

“Yeah?” She looks up.

“There’s a council meeting tomorrow about what to do with the rebels, including your dad. I figure you don’t want to be there, but I just wanted to let you know, in case there’s anything you want me to say—”

“I want to be there,” she says, setting her glass down and turning to her side.

“Yeah? We can see how you feel first.”

“I want to be there.”

“Okay,” I say, standing up and brushing her hair back from her face as she closes her eyes. “Sounds good.”

44

EMERSON

Ifeel better the following day. Notallthe way better—but, as I remind Kieran, I’m already one day farther into my recovery than he was that night in the library. He helps me get dressed that evening for the council meeting, and he, Gabe, and I walk slowly to the common house.

“How did Saga react when you told her about your leg?” I ask, gesturing to it. They removed the cast without me yesterday morning.

“No big reaction,” Gabe says, his steps still a little unsteady. The bone has healed, but the muscle is still weak after six weeks of rest. “I think you kind of gave away the big reveal with your display in the infirmary.”

I smile. “Not really the plan. Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry to me,” he says. “I’m not the one with hundreds of years of island tradition crashing down on her shoulders. If anything, I’m sorry foryou.”

“Did you talk with Seb about it?” I ask, and Gabe shakes his head.

“No. Not yet.”

I nod and look up ahead, where the common house is coming more clearly into view. There’s a small crowd milling in, and I see Saga’s Jeep parked in front, with Maren climbing out of the front seat. Beside me, Kieran lifts an arm to wave at them. Maren looks up and waves back excitedly, then gives a big thumbs-up.

Oh, right—they were visiting a newfikarigtoday. I guess from her signal that this one looked good, but with the weight of tonight’s vote, I won’t be able to ask for details until later. I smile at her, and she and Seb duck into the common house.

We walk up the steps behind them and enter. It’s later than we planned to get here—my energy is still low, and between Gabe’s leg and me, it took longer to walk here than we thought. The majority of the elders are already seated in their spots around the ring, and the hall is fuller than usual. As we enter, I hear a hush fall over the room.

I look around, trying to see what it is. But most of them are staring atme.

“Told you,” Gabe says under his breath. I smile nervously and reach for Kieran’s hand as we make our way to our seats.

Kier leads me to a spot near the head of the council, next to where Seb usually sits. Seb is already seated, with Maren behind to listen. Instinctively I want to sit next to her, behind Kier. But it takes me a second to remember that I’m an elder now—or, at least, I think so. Kieran grabs a cushion and seats it next to himself, beckoning for me to sit. Hesitantly, I do, and Gabe moves across the room to his seat behind Saga’s usual spot. Saga herself is sitting at the head of the council today, calling the meeting to order.

“Good evening,” she says, looking around the room. “We have two big topics on the table tonight, so I don’t want to waste any time. Wim, the council secretary, is taking the minutes, and I see we have more than enough elders for a quorum. With that said, I’d like to turn our attention to the first issue on the table: that of our newest potential elder, Emerson.”

I blink, glancing around. I hadn’t prepared for any talk about my rite this evening, and I’m surprised to hear her mention it.

“Emerson’s rite was unusual—both in that she returned with a person she rescued, and in that there was an effort to help her during her rite. We don’t have a precedent for how to deal with this, but I don’t think we need to turn it into a big discussion. After rereading theEijna, the case seems pretty clear to me. Emerson.” She turns to me, her eyes warm.

“Did the ancestors bring you an adversary in the ring?”

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