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Twin faces wear expressions of confusion. Then Latjo’s clears. “Yes. But Pegasus loves apples too. But no one likes onions, Shally. We’s just named him that.”
I nod.
Then the two wee ones come to a complete stop, looking around guiltily at the fork in the dirt path. We can go right or left from here, but neither one budges.
“An’ this is the prisoner area. See, we keep the bad people in cages, eh? An’ we’s not s’posed to know that.”
We’re already across the village and the few people we’ve come across—guards, mostly—look away when they see me with the two little boys. Mayhap Bakog instructed them to keep their distance from me.
Bakog trusts I would never harm the little ones.
“No prisoners right now,” Silann says. “An’ probably we’d be big enough to show you. But they’s coming and we’s won’t be allowed over here. Not at all. Those are the rules, Shally.”
“Are they?”
“Yup. That’s where daddy and uncle and the royals guard went this morn. To fetch the prisoners of the keep.” Silann picks up a stick and whips it through the air in sword fight.
“Neither of you twerps are supposed to be here as far as the fork in the path anyway, even when there are no prisoners. You both know you’ll get in big trouble for being this far. We’re not close, but you know what the boundary is.”
“Hisa!”
My hands are dropped like hot potatoes when both brats scramble to her.
“Oomph, you little stinkers. You just saw me last night.”
“Yes! And look, Hisa. You said Shally would be back and she is!” Silann says.
Latjo comes back to me. “She promised. She said Bakog would find you and he did.”
“Aye, he did,” I say softly.
Very slowly, as if I’d run, Hisa brings her hand up to my hair, twisting a strand between her thumb and forefinger. “What is it?” she asks.
“Elderberry grease. For mourning.”
“I’ve been sent by all the aunts. They want to give you a makeover. It’s a test of sorts, trying to get your brain kickstarted into remembering. We’ll dress you the way you were, not tell you what anyone’s names are, see if you remember anyone.”
The hell if I’m letting this clan dress me up like one of them and try to make me fit in the role I ran from. So, I shake my head at her, which the little brats miss.
“We wanna come too, Hisa. Please!”
Her disappointed gaze cuts to them. “You’d be bored out of your minds, ragamuffins. Besides, which, you can’t use any names and we think you’d forget. But, if you’re good, mayhap Shally and I can take you for a swim later. If Bakog lets us out of his sight for two seconds, that is.”
“Yay for swimming! We wants that.”
“I thought you were taking me to breakfast,” I remind the two of them.
Latjo puffs his chest. “Yes, and we’re gonna tell everyone not to use their names so you’s can remember, Shally.”
He twines his fingers with mine and Silann loops his hand into Hisa’s. “We want to sit together at the same table. Just us and the sisters,” Silann announces. I’m surprised that he refers to us that way, but isn’t that how I felt in my dreams? Like we were sisters, even closer.
We walk across the village, heading back to where the tents camp.
“That’s our house, Shally,” Latjo says, pointing to a row of cabins. They’re all remarkably similar; one has yellow rosebushes planted in the front. The others have flower bushes, also, but the roses stand out. They make me... happy. They’re so cheerful and bright and I kind of hope that’s their house.
“Lots of times you and I share a tent, though. We liked our freedom.”
“’Cause Hisa likes Tok,” Silann taunts.
