of life in the camp carried on.
Gavin rested his hand lightly on Esme’s shoulder, wishing, somehow, he could get her through this, take her away, make this conversation unnecessary.
But all he could do was stand there, with her.
Her fingers reached up, wrapped around his own as if clinging to a rope.
He squeezed back and she began.
“Three days ago our camp was attacked,” Esme said bluntly. “Everyone was killed except the children and Auntie Layla.”
She paused, and Gavin didn’t need to see her eyes to know she wasn’t looking at any of the shocked faces around her, but had let her vision be filled with the fire.
“They were taken, so…. we’re trying to find them.” A pitifully few words to sum up the end of her world.
“Why didn’t they take you,” the older woman wondered. “Or kill you?”
“Because they thought she was dead, too,” Gavin interrupted. “She nearly was.”
“And who are you? What are you doing here?” Liam asked. “Our affairs don’t concern you.”
“He’s one of the star men,” Esme explained, fingers still wrapped with his. “They’re helping me find the children. They’re on our side.”
Gavin pushed aside his annoyance. If these people were suspicious of him, it was only because they were concerned about Esme.
That was acceptable.
“We know they were brought to Kinallen,” Gavin said. “We’re not sure yet if they passed through the city and then taken onwards to Raccelton, or if they’ve been hidden somewhere inside the walls. We’re still tracking.”
“Have you seen anything, heard anything?” Esme blurted.
The older woman shook her head, lips pursed tightly. “Just rumors, that children from villages had been taken as well. One or two, just in the farthest outposts.” For a moment her chin trembled, and then froze. “But, all... all of your children? Everyone is gone?”
Esme reached towards her with her free hand. “I’m so sorry, Freya. It looked like Yanni tried to fight to protect Beatrice. We buried them, buried them all. But the children and Layla were gone.”
The younger woman flipped back her green headscarf. “Probably she tried to hide with the younger ones. Unless your attackers were particularly stupid, they’d realize they needed someone to try to keep the children quiet.”
Gavin nodded agreement. “Someone familiar to the children. It’s a good theory.”
Hendrick pushed to his feet, eyes narrowed. “Kinallen is on our regular route,” he said. “Has been for years. Not much about this town we don’t know, can’t find out about. I’ll send runners all the likely spots to pick up information.”
He stomped away, calling loudly and a crowd gathered around him, ready for orders.
The younger woman reached across, grasped Esme’s knee.
“Stay with us,” she whispered. “If something is going on, it’s not safe for you to be on your own.”
“She’s right,” Gavin agreed.
He hated it, hated the very idea of her being elsewhere, but it was more important that she stay safe.
He wished to the Void and back that she’d stayed at Ship. Maybe she’d stay here, with people she knew, people she trusted.
But he knew what Esme would say, before the words left her lips.
“I have to find them, Brynlee,” Esme said. “I have to.”
Then she squeezed his hand again. “Besides, it’s not exactly like I’m alone.”
Before the other woman could answer, a young girl, fair hair tied back over her shoulders came bursting through the circle of chairs at the fireside.
“Mama mama, there’s a...there’s a man!”
Brynlee grabbed the girl’s shoulders and shook her slightly. “What man?” she snapped. “Tela, what happened?”
The child’s leaf green eyes were wide with terror. “I know you said I shouldn’t get into the felder, but I just wanted to piece before dinner, just a little piece,” she babbled. “And you put it on the shelf behind the stall, so high I couldn’t reach it. And I well…” she glanced around, and seemed to realize for the first time there were strangers in their midst.
The girl’s mouth snapped shut.
Gavin crouched down, trying to be as small as possible instead of looming over the scared child.
“Did you have a special way of trying to reach it?” he asked softly. “Did the man see you?”
The child said nothing, but stepped closer to her mother’s side.
Esme pushed the loose hair back from the child’s face. “I know he’s not dressed like us, but you can tell him.”
The child suddenly looked at Esme. “I know you! Why are you dressed funny?”
“I’m not sure myself, right now,” Esme sighed. “And I know he’s dressed funny, too. You don’t know him, but I do. You can