trouble. How much will it cost?”
Sonei waved away her question. “No payment is necessary. Two letters for Weldaros, yes?”
“Umm…one is. The second one is for…” She took a deep breath. “…is for Kahl.”
Sonei and Danai went still at the name.
“He…he’s a water wielder and a—”
“Dyhaeri,” completed Sonei. She stared at her daughter questioningly. Danai shrugged, so Sonei asked the questions for them both. “Child, how is it you’re writing a letter to a Dyhaeri?”
Britea wondered what she was allowed to tell as she looked at the worried eyes of the older Weltonian woman before making her decision.
“My dah and I met him on our way to Raven’s Fall. I’m a late wielder, so he trained me. Then we ran into Namiran raiders.” Sonei’s face went pale. “It’s because of him that the crew of the Windrider and my dah and I are still alive. I just want him to know that…that I thank him for all he did and I’m all right.”
But is he all right as well? thought Britea with no small amount of dread. She still saw how his even his own people regarded him.
With anger. And suspicion.
She hastily wiped away a tear.
“You’re worried about him,” Sonei observed.
Britea’s head jerked up to see Danai and her mother looking concerned. “Yes, that too.”
Sonei gazed at the two letters in her hand for a long moment. Britea suddenly feared she had said something wrong.
“I’ll make sure these letters get to their owners. Do not fret, daughter of my sister.”
“Uh…thank you.” Britea dried her eyes. “May I ask why you address me like that?”
Sonei and Danai shared a sad smile. “Weltonians, though being of one people, are of different factions, and our biggest fear is that of exile. Many believe those who are exiled are never to be spoken of again and should be forgotten, but a few of us believe the opposite.”
Sonei took Britea’s right hand. “Your ancestors may have moved to land generations ago, but to me, they will always be family. That I will not hide.”
Britea looked at Danai who nodded proudly. Now she understood why her roommate had been furious about how Erina Seaworth had been treated. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” A mischievous light entered Sonei’s eyes. “Now, tell me if my dear Danai has managed to meet an agreeable young man at that college.”
Danai groaned. “Mah, please!”
#
All too soon, it was time to leave. But not before Sonei gave them bags full of food to take back to the college. It was so much Danai had to refuse a large portion of it.
“Mah! We’ll be late for the coach. Besides, we do have food at the college.”
“Not as good as this I bet,” countered Sonei.
Danai planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Thanks again. We’ll be fine.” Britea thought she looked ready to cry.
There was a suspicious wet sheen in Sonei’s eyes too. “I’ll see you two again soon.” The older Weltonian woman looked at Britea and said, “And your letters will get to their final destinations.”
“I am truly grateful,” said Britea.
“Off with you now. Be careful on your way back, my dears,” gently warned Sonei as both girls left.
As they walked, Britea tried to adjust the heavy bag of treats. “Your mother is really nice, and her ship is stunning.”
Danai smiled at her. She was carrying two heavy bags. “Thank you. I think so too.”
They soon reached the central square, and Britea was relieved to see the college coach had arrived. Just a few more steps and she could set down this heavy—
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Britea came to a sudden stop when a familiar person stepped out and blocked her path.
Her heart rate sped up as she stared at the face of Lieutenant Harto Flay. Even in casual clothes, he was no less intimidating.
“What business do you have in the market today, Novice D’Tranell?” demanded the Malaquey Naval Intelligence officer.
“We’re shopping. What business is it of yours, and who in the Deep are you anyway?” Danai countered as she came to stand in front of and to the side of Britea. A startled expression briefly flashed across Harto’s face before he replaced it with a stern countenance.
“This is wielder business and a matter of national security. I would advise you not to get involved.”
If he thought that would scare Danai off, he was in for a surprise. The fire wielder dropped her bags, folded her arms, and pinned Harto with a steady stare.
“Fifth-year wielding student, tier five. I am fully aware of the Creed, and you are clearly out of order. Once again, I’ll ask. Who are you?”
“Lieutenant Harto Flay, Malaquey Naval Intelligence.” Britea replied before he did. Harto glared at her as she continued speaking. “He was one of the three who questioned me about what happened on the Heldiar Sea. He’s also a wielder like us.”
Danai’s eyes hardened. “Which college?”
Harto went pale with fury and his gaze bore into Britea. “You discussed this with an outsider!?”
Danai’s eyes blazed with suppressed fury. “Am I an outsider because I’m Weltonian or for another reason?” Her tone indicated that he should choose his answer carefully. “You still haven’t told me which college you studied at. Did they teach you to harass other wielders just for kicks and giggles?”
“I ask the questions here, not you,” replied Harto coldly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Danai’s smile was pure ice. “I’ll eventually find out anyway.”
Harto backed down from the confrontation with Danai but turned his attention back to his initial target.
“Why did you tell her?”
“Danai is my friend,” Britea declared through gritted teeth, the rational part of her thinking she should explain further. After all, Warden Asteros had appointed Danai as her mentor and roommate, and he had even advised Britea to confide in her. But right now, she was too angry to be reasonable.
Danai kept glaring daggers at Harto while he tried to ignore her.
“You divulged state secrets.”
Britea spoke without thinking. “That’s hilarious coming from you given that right now, you’re interrogating us right in the middle of a busy market. Now who’s leaking state secrets?”
Harto seemed to remember where he was and looked around him, as if checking for observers.
Danai smirked. “She got you there.” Her smile widened when she saw some people approaching behind the intelligence officer. “Well, as entertaining as this is, it looks like we have to leave you, Lieutenant Flay.”
“No, you’re not going anywhere—”
“Is there a problem, ladies?” asked a gravelly voice behind Harto. He turned to face three crimson-clad merchant guards flanking the short, stout man who had asked the question.
“We’re perfectly all right, Trevor. This kind man was just reflecting on the weather. Weren’t you?” asked Danai sweetly, at odds with the warning light in her eyes.
After a long moment, Harto reluctantly nodded. “And now that I have my answer,