The Aenuk soldier approached and placed a hand to an Ajnai. Llew watched him, finding a joy in seeing someone converse with the trees as she did.

  “Merrid and Ard, the farmers who owned this place, used to free Aenuks,” Llew said. “They’d want you to stay.”

  He met her gaze, keeping his palm on the tree. “Oh, I’m staying.”

  Llew smiled and held out her hand to shake his. “Welcome to the team,” she said when he accepted the gesture. “My name’s Llew, by the way.”

  “Sam.”

  “Will the rest of your … countrymen join us?”

  “We pledged to join you.” He glanced at Jonas, briefly enough he perhaps hoped Llew wouldn’t notice, but she did detect a darkening of his demeanor.

  “Loyalty to me is loyalty to him. You don’t get one without the other.”

  “You know what he did?”

  “Yes.” Jonas had also made mistakes.

  “Lunch!” One of the Turhmos soldiers called from the homestead, and the farm settled into a scene of domesticity, with everyone finding somewhere to sit or stand to eat.

  There was still no bread, but the soldiers had foraged a variety of fresh greens, edible flowers, and fruit from around the farm. There weren’t enough plates to go around, but the group broke into smaller groups and made do. Rowan and Elka sat with Gaemil at the table inside, making a plan for things Gaemil could buy in Hinden. The Turhmos soldiers and Gaemil’s guards stood near enough they could eavesdrop on each other’s conversation and laugh or comment on things they had in common. Alvaro and Karlani stood together not far from the house, but not mingling either. Llew’s two favorite people in all the world, Jonas and Anya sat side-by-side on the edge of the porch eating quietly, sharing the occasional observation. Llew placed herself out in the middle of the cartway, right where it was double width, before it diverged between heading to the house or to the sheds around back, and everyone seemed to understand she was content to stand on her own, nibbling, and just being Llew alone; together with everyone.

  And she was nearly overwhelmed by the experience. The only other person she’d been able to count on for many years had been her father, until his disappearance left her entirely alone. Yes, she’d had friends but, as was the way in Cheer, many hadn’t survived childhood, or if they did it was because they knew how to look after their number one, as Llew had learned to do. Share a physical space, but little else. She’d been closer to Kynas physically than anyone, but Llew never tried to kid herself there was more than scratching an itch between them. Well, no. Her final memories of him were clouding her first years on the street. He’d been good to her, then; sharing, teaching, not expecting in return, until something changed and suddenly she owed him.

  Chewing a sweet, immature pea pod, Llew looked around at her hodgepodge crew. All three major nations of Phyos were here: Turhmos, Quaver, and Brurun. Aenuks, Kara, and mundane, all gathered together for a meal on Merrid and Ard’s farm. She thought the couple would have delighted in it, and once more wished they were there to see it. This was their legacy.

  Even the Ajnais. They represented something more than what they were. Perhaps these immature trees less so than the ancient Ajnai had done. Still, their existence felt like a connection to the past – when Aenuks had been free and Ajnais had been everywhere – and the future that would mirror it; somehow, though getting more seeds any time soon didn’t seem likely. The ancient Ajnai had released seeds as it had died, though, and Llew had brought them here when she, Jonas, and Braph had sought succor. The cart was now empty of their stockpile of Ajnai wood. Where had those seeds gone? A job for when things grew quiet around the farm, assuming that would happen.

  After lunch, Gaemil’s guards prepared their horses, and a couple of the Turhmos soldiers – Eirian and Ivor – hitched Ard’s cart to join them. There hadn’t been time to get to know the soldiers, and a part of Llew wondered if they could trust them, but Jonas assured her that saving their lives would have instilled a debt Turhmos itself couldn’t match. That he could find it in him to trust soldiers from Turhmos made it easier for her to do the same. Sam didn’t feel safe leaving the farm, so he would stay.

  Once again, Llew found herself having to say goodbye to Anya. And this time, she couldn’t guess if it might be their last, so they lingered in their embrace, saying how much they loved each other and were grateful to have shared their short journey, tears soaking each others’ clothing. Eventually, Gaemil gently pried Anya away, helped her to mount, and Llew watched them go as best she could through tear-filled eyes. Jonas stood by her, placed an arm around her shoulders and, when she was ready, pulled her into an embrace, letting her sob into his shoulder. Anya was safer away from here. Her place wasn’t beside Llew while Llew’s freedom still drew the ire of Turhmos. Still, Anya’s leaving hurt her heart.

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  But there was work to be done.

  Thirteen bodies awaited funeral rites, as best as could be provided. Karlani’s Syakaran powers helped immensely, as did the decision to settle for a mass grave. Llew had wondered if the living Turhmosian soldiers might find offense, but it turned out most barely knew each other. They trained together under strict command; they were not permitted to socialize. As for Sam, he savored the chance to breathe fresh air and to feel it and the warmth of the sun on his skin. He had seen Llew through his cell door window when she’d escaped, but he’d lacked understanding of what was happening at the time as he’d experienced so little of the world. One room, and the occasional training and exercise session within the palace compound. This was the first time he’d been sent on patrol, and he had intended to follow his commands, capture Llew, and bring her back where she should be. He hadn’t guessed there might be another way, and he thanked her for this chance at another life.

  Llew accepted his and the other soldiers’ repeated thanks graciously, she hoped, with a smile and a nod. She wouldn’t diminish what she had done – the dead were testament to how easily she could fail – and she wouldn’t forget how deadly she could be if it weren’t for the Ajnais. So each thanks she received she considered herself accepting on behalf of the trees, for it was they that protected the farm and all the people on it.

  They lowered the bodies into the ground around late afternoon and, though no one had personal connections to those they farewelled, they paused for a few moments before committing the first shovelful of soil. Llew took it as a chance to forgive these soldiers who had come to capture her and kill Jonas at Turhmos’s behest. They hadn’t chosen their fight. Even if they thought they had, it was based on the lies they’d been raised to believe. That they hadn’t had the chance for enlightenment their fellow Turhmosians had was a tragedy.

  Llew returned to the house cows with Elka. Llew could soothe them and smear the salve herself, but she appreciated Elka’s expert eye. She also suspected that, like herself, Elka found some peace and joy in simply being with the cows and away from the bustle of people.

  “Have you helped your ma with many pregnancies?”

  “A fair few.” As was her way, Elka watched Llew, rather than asking the obvious.

  Llew appreciated the opportunity to change her mind and save face; pretend she’d simply taken an interest in Elka’s history and experience, and maintain some pretense of polite society. But what value was there in saving face?

  “When I carried Jonas’s babies, I gained their Immortal magic. I was fast and strong like Jonas, and I could heal him with a touch. But I didn’t gain those powers until more than a week after we … were together.” Llew would’ve used the euphemism anyway, but was especially aware of Elka’s feelings regarding Jonas. She wasn’t surprised when it took Elka a moment to process.

  “I— I don’t know. We usually s— see women when they miss their menses, or begin to show in their belly. What happens in the earliest days, I couldn’t tell you.”

  Llew sighed. “I guess I’m just hoping for another miracle. I need to save him.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Last time was so easy. This time, I don’t even know if I can.”

  “Jonas didn’t think you would be able to s— save Anya. Why?”

  “We can’t return what we’ve taken.”

  “But you did. Did you know you could do that?”

  “… No.”

  She hadn’t even bled since losing their babies. Perhaps the doctor really had removed a part of her. Perhaps that path to saving Jonas’s life was gone forever.

  A lump rose in her throat.

  If Jonas died, it wouldn’t matter; Llew couldn’t imagine having a family with anyone else. She wanted to be with him. And she wanted to save his life.