The Heart of Betrayal (The Remnant Chronicles 2)

“I will. Thank you.”

We continued down the path, Kaden leading the way, until we came to several tents in a row with clothing and fabrics hanging from poles. “One of those should have something for you,” he said. “I’ll wait here.” He sat on the end of an empty cart and folded his arms, nodding toward the tents.

I walked past them nonchalantly, not sure which one to go into, especially since I had no interest in finding something “suitable” to wear. I perused from a distance, not committing to stepping inside any of them, but then I heard a small voice. “Miz! Miz!” From the darkness of a tent, a hand reached out and grabbed mine, pulling me inside.

I sucked in a startled breath but saw it was Aster. I asked what she was doing here, and she said this was her bapa’s shop. “Not his shop proper, but he works here sometimes. Lifting things too heavy for Effiera. Not today, though, because he’s sick, so he sent me, but Effiera doesn’t much think that someone my size—” Aster clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, Miz. There I go again. It doesn’t matter why I’m here. Why are you here?”

Because I was yanked into your tent, I wanted to tease, but I knew Aster was self-conscious, and I didn’t want to add to her insecurity. “The Komizar says I need suitable clothes.”

Her eyes grew wide, as if the Komizar himself were standing there, and in the same instant, a squat woman bustled into the middle of the tent from behind a curtain stretched across the back.

“You came to the right place, then. I know just what he likes. I have—”

I set her straight immediately. I wasn’t one of the Komizar’s “special visitors.” Aster enthusiastically offered more details about who I was. “She just got here! She’s a princess. She came from a faraway land, and her name is Jezelia, but—”

“Hush, girl!” The woman looked back at me, chewing on something tucked inside her cheek, and I wondered if she was going to spit it at me now that she knew I came from the other side. She studied me for a long while.

“I think I have just what you need.” She judged my measurements with a practiced eye and said she’d return shortly. She ordered Aster to keep me company in the meantime.

As soon as Effiera was gone, Aster squeezed her head through a slit in the side of the tent and let out a deafening whistle. In seconds, two bone-thin children smaller than Aster slipped through the flap. Like Aster, their hair was cut short to the scalp, and I wasn’t sure if they were boys or girls, but their eyes were wide and hungry. Aster introduced the smaller one as Yvet, and the other was a boy named Zekiah. I noticed he was missing the tip of his forefinger on his left hand. The stump was red and swollen, as if the injury had happened only recently, and he rubbed it self-consciously with his other hand. At first they were too shy to speak, but then Yvet asked in a shaky voice if I had really been to other lands as Aster claimed. Aster looked at me with expectant eyes as if her reputation lay on the line.

“Yes, what Aster says is true,” I said. “Would you like to hear about them?”

They nodded eagerly, and we all sat on the rug in the middle of the tent. I told them about forgotten cities in the middle of nowhere, savannas of copper grass that spread as wide as a sea, glittering ruins that shimmered for miles, meadows high in the mountains where the stars were so close you could touch their sparkling tails, and an old woman who spun star shimmer into thread on a great spinning wheel. I told them of bearded animals with heads like anvils that rode together in groups more numerous than the pebbles in a river, and of a mysterious tumbled city where springs flowed with water as sweet as nectar, streets gleamed gold, and the Ancients still cast their magic.

“Is that where you’re from?” Yvet asked.

I looked at her, not sure how to answer. Where was I from? Strangely, it wasn’t Civica that came to mind.

“No,” I finally whispered. And then I told them about Terravin. “Once upon a time,” I said, making it into a story as distant and removed as it now felt, “there was a princess, and her name was Arabella. She had to flee a terrible dragon that was chasing her, intending to make her his breakfast. She ran to a village that offered her protection.” I told them of a bay as bright as sapphires, silver fish that jumped into nets, a woman who stirred up bottomless pots of stew, and cottages woven of rainbows and flowers, a land as magical as any princess could ever dream up. But then the dr

agon found her again, and she had to leave.

“Will the princess ever go back?” a new voice asked.

I looked up to my left, startled. Four more children had slipped in and crouched on their knees at the entrance of the tent.

“I think she’ll try,” I answered.

Effiera breezed in from behind, clapping her hands and shooing them off.

“Here we go,” she said, and I turned to see three more women standing at the back of the tent, their arms piled with fabrics. Among them were soft leathers of every shade—tans, browns, and fawns, and some dyed in purples, greens, and reds. Another woman held accessories like belts, scarves, and scabbards in her arms.

My heart pounded, and I wasn’t sure why, but then I knew—before they even unfolded them.

Barbarian clothes. These weren’t like the ones Calantha wore, made of light and delicate fabrics, brought in on Previzi caravans. I looked at Effiera uncertainly. Her expression was resolute. I was sure it wasn’t what the Komizar had in mind, but somehow these fabrics seemed right. It was the same strange feeling I had felt the first time I rounded the bend and saw Terravin. A feeling of rightness. Clothing, of course, was not the same as a home, I reminded myself. “All I need is something simple, trousers and a shirt. Clothes I can ride in,” I said.

“And that you’ll have, and a simple change of clothes as well,” Effiera answered, and with a quick wave of her hand, the women moved in, a whirl of motion, and began measuring and pinning together a basic riding outfit.

* * *

Kaden and I walked back toward the Sanctum. Effiera promised to send the two outfits I had ordered with Aster later today after a few alterations had been made. The fear I had carried ever since I had crossed the bridge into Venda was momentarily lifted. My brief time in the tent, first with the children, and then with the women as they held up fabrics, vests, shirts, and trousers, was a soothing balm. I felt less like an outsider, and I hoped I could hang on to that feeling.

“It seems foolish to spend money on clothing when there’s so much need elsewhere,” I said, still questioning the Komizar’s loose purse.

“How do you think Vendans go about their everyday lives? They have jobs and professions and mouths to feed. I gave Effiera twice what she would get from anyone else. Making clothing is how she survives.”

“Effiera? Do you know every shopkeeper’s name in Venda?”