before. The food and rest had been exactly what she needed.
"We can't," he said. "I don't have any paper."
"Then we'll draw in the sand," she said cheerfully.
Eref laughed. "It'll be harder that way."
"Don't think you're getting out of this." She nudged him with her fuzzy hands. "After all you've put me through the past few days?"
He smiled. "All right. Give me a few words."
"Any words?"
"Yep."
"Let me see," she said. "Could we use the name of a place I used to go?"
"Sure."
"Um, how about Creepy Luny Inn?"
A laugh burst out of Eref before he realized it. "You used to go to a place called Creepy Luny Inn?"
Caer giggled. "Once in a while. Vul and I went there."
"What is it?"
"A wine tavern. They had big, comfy couches and games and books. People would go to hang out after school."
"Funny name," he said.
"It was supposed to be funny. Luny is the name of a wine, and the building looked like a big hotel. So they were making a joke."
"How come you stopped going?"
"The Governors ordered it to be torn down."
"Why?"
"I don't know," she said with a sigh. "Too many teenagers together having fun, I guess. The evils of youth, and all that."
"Yeah," Eref said. "Too bad."
"I loved it there," she said, leaning over to write the words in the sand herself. CREEPY LUNY INN
Eref scrawled something below what she had written, pulling letters from the original words. CRUEL "What did you do there?"
"Lots of stuff," she said, changing more letters. CURE She was getting the hang of it quickly. "Mostly I worked on my jewelry while I waited for Vul to get out of track practice. Then we'd listen to music and play games and drink wine together."
"You worked on jewelry?" LIP
She smiled and even looked a little bashful. Eref hoped he didn't linger too long on her face when he looked at her. "I make jewelry for my friends," she said. NINNY"What kind?" LYRIC
"All kinds. I use dried vines and flower petals to make things. I've given them to each of my friends. Vul has a necklace, Atc has a collar, Tracitatev has a bracelet. I give them to everybody." She laughed a little again. "People probably think I'm crazy." PYRE
"I wish I could see some," he said.
"Here's one," she said, extending a slender leg. A delicate assortment of colorful flowers and leaves wrapped around her right ankle, tied together with a strong piece of vine that wound its way through each petal.
"You made this?"
She blushed. "I know it's kind of dumb."
"No," he said and genuinely meant it. "Where did you learn to do that?" He extended his hand to run a finger across her handiwork. There was his smooth, dark hand against her fuzzy, pale leg, a beautiful contrast that seemed somehow the perfect blend of shades. For a split second, his hand slipped so that he touched her ankle, and his heart banged with embarrassment. He pulled his hand back quickly. "It's amazing," he said.
Caer's blush deepened, a soft pink glow around her frosty-white face. "I just started playing with the Bind Vines when I was little. They're perfect for holding jewelry together."
There was a strange pause in their conversation when Caer looked right into Eref's eyes. Her usual hesitation had fallen away, and it was as though they were looking into each other.
Eref cleared his throat and stared again at the letters in the sand. His mind was a blank. What other words could he make? "You're really good," he said.
"Thanks. I wish it were something we could study in school. Then I could practice making all kinds of things." Caer reached forward and added another word. PRINCE
He looked up and laughed. "You're good at this game, too. What did you study at school?"
"You mean our general studies or my specific career track?"
"Your career track."
Caer frowned. "Fire."
"Fire? But I thought - "
"For setting the Pyre alight."
He stopped pondering the letters in the ground and just stared. "You were going to be an executioner?"
This time Caer wouldn't meet his gaze. She just nodded.
Eref suddenly realized he'd just said "were," as if their fates had already changed. He hoped he was right.
"How about you?"
"I think they were going to make me a grocer," he said. "My career track was Business, and my tests were all about bagging items in the right order."
She laughed.
"What?"
"I can't imagine you bagging groceries."
He grinned. "Me, either. I was terrible at it in class."
For a quiet moment, they went back to absentmindedly writing words in the sand,