"Because if you move, she will have to start over from the beginning, and it will take even longer. Right?"
He turned to Asira for confirmation.
She kept her expression composed. "Correct."
Pol sat down obediently and fixed his gaze on a pebble near his shoe.
"I'll be back for you," Tomek told him solemnly, and then ran off to rejoin the other children on the climbing frame.
Sullha watched him go and tried to decide which part of the exchange was the cutest. Probably the one when he was telling Pol how to behave.
"I'll move over to that bench." She pointed and stood. "Give you space to work."
"You don't have to," Asira said.
"Trust me, I do. Sometimes, I talk to myself, and that will distract you."
She didn't, but if Yaaf came and thralled everyone not to look her way, she wanted to have her bases covered in case his thrall didn't include ignoring speech.
"All right. Thank you."
When Sullha drifted two benches over and sat down, Asira pulled out a clipboard with several pages attached to it, and Pol folded his hands in his lap and fixed his eyes on a spot behind her. He was a small, solemn statue waiting to be rendered, and he looked adorable.
There was something hopeful about a girl drawing a child in a place where the prevailing art form was survival.
Sullha leaned back, rested her hands on the bench, palms flat against the concrete, and watched the scene.
Whatever Asira had come to say, she had not said it yet, but she eventually would, and Sullha could wait.
4
SULLHA
The oppressive heat was easing, and the shadows on the concrete doubled in length. One of the human guards was leaning against the gate, half asleep on his feet, and the children who had gotten tired of the climbing frame were now sitting on the ground and listening to Roshav telling them a scary story.
As if anyone needed to invent things to be scared of in this place.
Something brushed against the back of her neck, a movement of air that wasn't caused by the breeze because there was none, and fear seized Sullha with such power that it chased the air from her lungs. It took a couple of seconds for her to realize that it must be Yaaf, using his mind tricks to conceal his presence.
She sucked in a breath and whipped her head around, finding him standing behind her, looking completely relaxed, and watching her with a smile curling just one corner of his mouth.
She put her hand over her heart. "You scared me half to death."
"I thought you'd know it's me by now."
"I didn't hear anything. I just felt something. The air behind me was displaced."
His smile widened. "That's impressive. I don't make any sound when I want to be stealthy, but you still felt me."
She turned around on the bench and looked up at him. "Are you thralling everyone again to ignore us? Or rather not see us?"
He nodded. "They can see both of us if they look this way, but I thralled them not to. This bench doesn't exist for them right now. "
She glanced toward Asira and Pol, who were still focused on each other, and neither of them had turned, so they couldn't hear her and Yaaf talking either. Pol was still staring at a point above Asira's shoulder, and her pencil was moving in short, quick strokes.
"This is so strange," Sullha murmured.
"I know. Thralling is a very powerful tool."
