Page 33 of City of Stone and Silence

Where I grew up, my sister taught me to stay away from anyone who offered me food, because the kidcatchers would use scraps of bread to lure children off on their own. And if they caught you, that meant rape and sale to a slave brothel somewhere, or just a slit throat if they thought you weren’t worth the trouble.

It meant waking up to find your sister’s knife at your throat, and seeing the tears in her eyes, and knowing exactly what she was thinking. And half-wishing she’d do it, just to make an ending.

I can’t say any of that to Garo, of course.

Cautiously, I open myself to his mind. There’s a hint of the citrus taste of embarrassment, the twinkling shimmer of anxiety, even—unless I imagined it?—a hint of the rapid drum-hammer of attraction. But under and around all of that, drowning it out, is sincerity, a brassy trumpet note like a clarion call.

He’s staring at me.

“All right,” I say. “You wanted to help, and you were fed up. So you came here?”

He nods. “I thought … I don’t know. I thought it would be simple, somehow. Everyone always talked about fixing our problems like it would be easy, if only the right people got together. I should have known better.” He gives a bitter laugh. “I didn’t even know where to begin. And then the guards started chasing me.”

“Because you ran away from a draft checkpoint.”

“I didn’t know they wanted me to stop.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Guards shouting at me is … another new experience. I ran into the alley, and you … distracted them.”

“Okay.” I don’t want him to dwell on that part. “So what do you want with me now?”

“I want you to teach me.” He puts his hands on the table. “I’m not too proud to admit I don’t know what I’m doing. And you … when I asked about you, they said you’ve been coming here for years. You can’t have been more than ten years old at the beginning!”

“Eleven,” I say, which is rounding up just a fraction. For some reason I don’t want him to think I’m that much younger than him.

“You were eleven years old and you were just doing what I’d only talked about for so long. Making a difference to actual people.”

“I suppose.”

“Will you let me be…” His brow wrinkles awkwardly, an oddly adorable expression. “Your apprentice, I guess?”

I snort a laugh. “That isn’t something I ever thought someone would say to me.”

“But you understand—”

“I understand.” I peek at his mind again, guilty and fascinated, and feel that brassy sincerity. He really means it. “You know it’s not going to be anything grand, right?”

“I understand that. Now I do, at any rate.”

“Half of what I do is … laundry, cleaning, that sort of thing.”

“I may not be very skilled at that,” he says earnestly. “But I can learn, I swear it.”

“Well.” I scratch my cheek in a show of consideration. “I suppose I can ask Grandma if she has any use for you.”

I’m unprepared when he reaches across the table and grabs my hands. I nearly leap backward, but he’s already bowing his head in thanks, his eyes sparkling.

“You won’t regret it,” he says. His hands are warm, larger than mine, skin smooth and free of calluses. I hold still for a moment longer, then pull away. My cheeks are very warm.

“Let’s hope not,” I say. “Now. First lesson, apprentice.”

“Yes?”

I grab a dumpling with my chopsticks and pop it into my mouth, and it practically explodes with warm, fatty flavor. “Eat your dumplings before they get cold.”

8

ISOKA

“I was only twelve years old when my clan was destroyed,” Catoria says. “Two of my wicked uncles had conspired against the Emperor’s peace. My father, the youngest son, had nothing to do with it, but the Emperor ordered our family torn out root and branch. My mother took poison, as did my older sister. My father met with the Imperial Guard when they arrived, to beg for my life, and for that the Emperor’s marshal rewarded him with a painful death in the dungeons. I expected to die myself. Instead I was imprisoned with two dozen of my relations, children and teenagers, mostly cousins from the lower branches of the family.