place may as well be made of magic, even though they say it’s technology. It’s better to just pretend it’s normal in the beginning, and then it starts to make sense for real later on.”
Adena nodded her agreement. “I’ve been here for months, and if I just tell myself Ship has another kind of gift, one for making things out of nothing, it’s much easier.”
The flood of information made Esme pause, but only a few things mattered.
She can think about the rest later.
“These men, you say they’re good?”
Both women nodded, and Esme sensed nothing but sincere belief and trust.
But she knew all too well that trust could be mistaken, betrayed.
Still, in the absence of any other evidence, it was all she had to go on.
“Then I’ll trust them, too.”
For now, she added silently.
She stood, proud of herself for swaying only slightly, looking around the plainly furnished room for her garments.
Adena noticed her gaze. “Your clothing was almost destroyed. I’m not sure if they’re mendable. But Ship has a gift for making things very quickly. Do you want another set exactly like the ones you were wearing, or something different? It won’t make any difference.”
Esme thought of the vest she’d so carefully embroidered, the short dress that had been lovingly passed down from kin to kin.
It might not make any difference to these women, or to this mysterious Ship, but it would mean something to her.
“Similar, but not the same,” she answered. “If they looked like my old clothes, but weren’t, well, it seems like it would be a lie.”
Adena squeezed her hand and then went to a panel in the wall.
“Ship, can you create a new set of garments for our guest, similar in style, exact in fit, but with these colors?” She touched the wall lightly, and it lit up in response.
“Just a moment, Mistress Adena.”
The disembodied voice made Esme jump. “Who is that?” she gasped.
She had felt nothing, no approach, not even the slightest stray thought.
Who could shield themselves that well?
“That’s Ship,” Rhela said with a small smile. “She’s nice too, but it does take a little getting used to.”
The two women left the room while slowly Esme changed out of the white shift and examined her new garments.
Ship, whoever that was, had done a remarkable job.
The pants fit as well as her old ones, the vest of dark brown matched them perfectly. Raising her arms to slide the knee length dress of rich purple over her head, the fabric flowed smoothly, flaring over her hips.
Each piece was starkly plain, no embellishments at all.
As they should be.
And at the foot of the bed, were her boots.
At least these were not strangely created replicas, but hers, every crease in the butter-soft leather as well known to her as the lines on her hand.
“Ready?” Adena’s voice called out from outside the door.
“I’m dressed,” Esme said. “Does that count?”
The door slid open at Adena’s laugh. She nodded at the clothing, a faint line of worry between her brows.
“Are they alright?” she asked. “I cleaned your old garments the best I could, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to transfer the embroidery to the new ones. Or if you’d even want to.”
Esme blinked, surprised. “Most townsfolk wouldn’t even know the significance,” she blurted. “How did you?”
“My parents traveled with a clan for a while,” Adena answered, “up and down the roads. They never stopped being townsfolk but I remember their stories.” A wistful smile crossed her face. “Seeing caravans on the move have always called to me, just a little.”
She stepped back, revealing the passage outside the room. “The others are ready, if you are.”
The trip through the building made Esme itch. She didn’t like being indoors. Never had. None of her clan did.
And this building was strange. Larger than anything should be.
“Almost there,” Rhela said, then ran through a final door, smiling as the sunlight fell on her face.
Esme stepped out into a beautiful lush garden and then froze.
At the edge of the green space was a short wall and passed it she could see treetops.
“We’re outside, but still on Ship,” Adena explained. Or, the words were meant for an explanation, but did nothing to ease the confusion in Esme’s mind.
Chairs were scattered in a rough circle on the grass under a vine draped shelter.
Waiting for her were four strangers.
Well, three strangers and her giant.
Gavin stood as if rooted to the ground, watching her slow steps forward.
But it was another man, not quite as tall but still huge, his