“You mean the Traitor Prince?” Ye Eun shrugged. “He’s checking the rabbit traps. He said to feed you, and to make sure you hadn’t hurt yourself. I only checked your hands and arms.”
I glanced down. Dried blood crusted at the base of my finger, where I had twisted my ring last night.
“I have to clean your wound and watch you eat,” she said, and took my hand impatiently. Her small, deft fingers swabbed my wounds and wrapped them in linen. A bowl of gray porridge steamed by my pallet, as well as a bucket and washcloth. As I washed and ate, Ye Eun peered at me more closely and huffed.
“You’re already infected, aren’t you? Now Traitor Prince will be angry, and I’ll have to hike down to the village for garlic. I’m already behind getting the others ready for the Underworld—”
“It’s not infection,” I cut in, wincing at the cotton sensation in my throat. “It’s council sickness.”
Ye Eun’s scowl remained. “Then you should have brought someone. You’re like Traitor Prince. He gets fevers when he comes without Kathleen, or one of the others.”
“Well, he won’t get fevers anymore,” I snapped, making the girl jump. I swallowed and winced. “I’m sorry. I just meant … Woo In isn’t part of a council anymore. The Lady is dead. And I’m his prisoner.” I smiled weakly. “So I wasn’t allowed to bring a sibling.”
“If you’re a prisoner, we all are,” she retorted. “This is Sagimsan: the mountain where Redemptor babies are left. Sometimes it’s easier to abandon us at birth instead of waiting till we’re ten. Traitor Prince flies over the mountain and brings the babies here.”
“Oh.” My heart twinged at the tiny curious faces in the doorframe. “Why do you call Woo In a traitor?”
Ye Eun shrugged. “All Songlanders do. After he promised his soul to The Lady, and Crown Princess Min Ja disowned him. But I don’t really care if he is a traitor. He’s good to us.” She paused. “I didn’t think I’d come back to Sagimsan. After I escaped the Underworld, I thought I’d find my parents. They gave me to the mountain, but—I thought maybe—they might want me back.” She smiled dimly. “They didn’t. No one wants a girl who’s walked through hell and back. So my emi-ehran led me back here. I help make the Redemptors strong. I teach them how to survive, like I did, so they’re ready when it’s time. It’s not always enough. But it’s better than waiting for people in capes.”
I winced, remembering how reverently she had eyed my wax-dyed cape at the temple banquet.
“You should eat your breakfast,” said Ye Eun. She watched my spoon, and I noticed for the first time how her cheekbones jutted, with no fat to soften them. “Traitor Prince will be back soon.”
I held out the steaming bowl. “You finish it.”
She swallowed, then shook her head. “If you don’t want it, we should give it to Ae Ri.” She turned, presenting her back to me. “Help me untie her.”
I froze, terrified. I’d never held a baby for more than a few seconds, when peasants thrust them into my arms on goodwill campaigns. I had kissed the infants, as expected, and returned them as soon as possible.
“She’s hungry,” Ye Eun insisted. “Don’t worry, she’s clean.”
I huffed, gripped the baby’s underarms, and wriggled her from the harness. She was alarmingly light, even wrapped in a homespun shift and loincloth. Her soft curly hair smelled of hay and milk, and curiously, her skin was several shades darker than Ye Eun’s.
I squinted. “Is Ae Ri …”
“An isoken?” Ye Eun shrugged. “Maybe. There are illegal camps on the border, where Songlander merchants trade with Aritsar. That’s how I learned to speak Arit: buying supplies there for the refuge. It’s rare, but I’ve heard of merchants taking Arits as lovers.” She looked askance at Ae Ri. “Maybe that’s where she came from.”
The baby squirmed in the crook of my arm as Ye Eun fed her, smacking up the porridge with pink, wet lips. Then she clutched the front of my gown and gurgled a greeting.
“Hello,” I said uncertainly.
Ae Ri cooed, and examined me with brave, dark eyes set in a lattice of blue birthmarks. My heart swelled with a familiarity I couldn’t explain. Suddenly, I was enraged.
What kind of treaty would end this tiny story, would snuff the light of her soul, after ten short years? What kind of peace cost a life that had barely begun?