Spin the Dawn(62)

“My cousin is a tailor,” Edan said, rather proudly. “The best in the land.”

Orksan cast me a cursory glance. He didn’t look impressed. My pants were torn, and my tunic’s color had faded from a rich green to a dull olive. I shifted self-consciously.

“And yourself?” Orksan asked.

“My father was a merchant on the Road. Married my mother and had me.” Edan faked a charming grin. “I’m no good with coin, I’m afraid, so I’m an explorer. We’re traveling to find my cousin some dyes, then we’ll go to A’landi to open him a shop.”

Without warning, Edan reached for the satchel slung over my shoulder. Orksan and his men raised their weapons, but Edan’s fingers were swift. He withdrew a sleeve I’d been working on for Lady Sarnai.

“See,” he said, displaying the sleeve as if it were a prized jewel. “This is my cousin’s work.”

The sleeve was unfinished, but I’d embroidered gold flowers along the seams, and I’d sewn dozens of tiny pearls along the cuff. Anyone could see that the work was exquisite.

Orksan looked at me with new respect. “Can you mend?”

I opened my mouth, but Edan spoke over me: “In his sleep.”

Orksan’s distrust faded a notch. By now he must have observed that we were unarmed. “My wife is a remarkable cook, but she can’t sew a stitch.” He drew back his cloak, revealing tattered sleeves. “Perhaps your cousin can teach her a thing or two.”

“He’d be happy to,” Edan said, slapping me hard on the back. I stumbled forward and frowned at him, but his pleasant grin didn’t waver.

“Then there’s my three brothers and two brothers-in-law,” Orksan went on, introducing the group. “We’re headed northeast ourselves. Why don’t you two join us for a few days? Celebrate the midsummer with us. We’ve plenty of wine to share, and Korin makes the heartiest stew you’ll find on the Road!”

The thought of food and drink had already sent a pang to my belly, but my eyes widened with alarm. We couldn’t join a group of Balardans!

“We’d be honored,” Edan said, ignoring my distress.

“Good. These roads are treacherous. I’m surprised you two are traveling alone.”

“Have you run into any bandits?” Edan asked casually. “Or soldiers?”

I twisted my face into a frown. Why was he asking about soldiers?

“None, thankfully,” replied Orksan. “But we were detained in the Buuti Passage for a few weeks. The prince of the province wouldn’t let us leave without papers. He said we were smuggling wine out of the country to sell to A’landans.” Orksan snorted. “As if we’d want to sell his wine. It tastes like horse piss.”

“Our journey takes us north,” Edan said. “We’re heading for the Mountains of the Moon.”

“That’s quite a way from here,” Orksan said. “You’ll be traveling off the Road.”

“We’re aware of that,” said Edan, offering no further explanation.

Orksan didn’t ask any more questions. “You can come with us into Agoria. But the boy’ll have to do some mending.” He looked at me, and I bobbed my head in assent.

“He’s jittery as a cricket,” Orksan said to Edan. “Is he mute?”

“He’s recovering from desert fever. First time traveling so far from home.”

Orksan’s eyes deepened with understanding, and he motioned for us to follow him toward the campfire.

“Are you sure about this?” I whispered to Edan once Orksan was out of earshot.

“We need food and drink, and they’re offering it. Why turn it down?”

“They’re Balardans,” I said, still clutching my hat over my chest.

“Balar is a vast country,” Edan chided. “Not everyone is a barbarian. And not every Balardan fought in the Five Winters’ War.”

I frowned, staunch in my distrust. Until I saw Orksan’s children.

Their clothes were tattered and frayed, flapping in the wind as they rushed up to greet us. A boy tugged at my pants, holding out a pile of ragged garments. “Will you fix this? Da says you can.”

I knelt beside Orksan’s two sons—they couldn’t have been older than four or five—and took their clothes. “They’ll be good as new,” I said with a smile.

Orksan’s wife, Korin, chuckled, then gently peeled her children off me. “Run along and play with the camels. Mama needs to work on sewing with our new friend.”

“Is that yours?” Korin said, lifting the lid of one of my trunks, where the hem of Lady Sarnai’s dress peeked out.

I jumped up. “Don’t touch that!”

Hurt etched itself over Korin’s face. She immediately dropped the lid. “I’m sorry.”

I clamped my lips shut. Then I sighed. Stop being rude, Maia. She isn’t going to put a knife in your heart. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. It’s just…it’s been a long journey.”

I lifted the trunk lid and took out what I’d sewn so far of Lady Sarnai’s dress. I hadn’t yet used the sunlight I’d collected, but the shape of the gown was coming together, with its ruched bodice and one flowing sleeve. The trim sparkled with golden leaves and flowers.