The Continent (The Continent #1)(37)

“A friend, brother. She comes from the Nations Beyond the Sea.” At the word brother, the resemblance between the two becomes immediately apparent. Each has the same aquiline nose, high cheekbones, dark eyes, and angled jawline. The boy is Noro in youthful miniature, only with a crackling ebullience that his brother does not share.

The boy’s mouth falls open, and he stares at me. “You lie—it’s impossible.”

“I tell you the truth. She was lost by her people.”

“Lost how?”

Noro ruffles the boy’s wiry black hair. “All will be explained in time. Now I must assemble the council, for they will want to meet our guest. Will you wait with her, and be hospitable? She is ill, and very tired from the journey.”

The boy turns at once to face me and makes a deep bow. “Keiji Zensuke,” he says in a distinctly formal tone. “Any friend of Noro’s is a friend to me as well.”

I smile, despite the pain, exhaustion, grief. “My name is Vaela Sun. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Noro points to a cottage down the lane, on the left-hand side. “That’s our place. You and Keiji can wait for me there; I shouldn’t be long.”

“Come, Vaela Sun,” Keiji says. “I will make you some tea, if you like.”

“I should like that very much.”

Noro looks back and forth between the two of us. “I shall be as quick as I can,” he says, then turns to head back in the direction from which we came.

I follow Keiji—and the dog, which seems to mirror his master’s every move—down the road and into the little cottage. We enter into a small sitting room, with two low sofas upholstered in deep blue, and a fire burning behind a metal grate. The warmth of the room envelops me at once.

The place is sparsely decorated, but comfortable and refined in its way. A great tapestry hangs on the wall adjacent to the fireplace, depicting a sort of picnic scene with gold-leaved trees and elegant figures in repose. Below it is a bookcase carved from shining blackwood, each of its three shelves stuffed with volumes of varying sizes.

“Sit, please,” Keiji says, and disappears into the next room, a small kitchen, only part of which is visible from the entry. I sink into the sofa nearest the fire and pull off my leather gloves, marveling at the relief of simply sitting on a piece of furniture. The dog is seated at the entrance to the kitchen like some kind of sentry; he stares at me with curious brown eyes, turning his head only occasionally to mark the movements of his master. After a few minutes, Keiji reappears and hands me a small brass cup.

“Are you really from beyond the sea?” he asks, pouring tea from a copper kettle.

“Thank you,” I say. “And yes, I am.”

“You are lost?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Keiji pours himself a cup and sits on the rug. The hound crosses the room, its claws clicking on the wooden floor, and curls up beside him, resting its great gray head on the boy’s knee. “How will you find your way home?”

I sigh, weary from asking myself the same question. “I don’t know, Keiji.”

“You do not look well at all,” he says, though not unkindly.

“I am quite under the weather,” I admit. I wipe my brow, which has grown sticky with perspiration. “But I am to meet with one of your healers as soon as I’ve spoken with the village council.”

“It’s a good thing, too. You look fit to fall right on your face.” He takes a sip of tea. “Is your family waiting for you beyond the sea?”

“No,” I say, grief dancing upon my heart, waiting to show itself fully. “My family was with me when I was lost here. I’m afraid they did not survive.”

His eyes narrow, and he leans forward. “Was it the Topi?”

“No, no, not the Topi. It was an accident.”

“The Topi killed my family,” he says. “Except Noro, of course. Nobody can kill Noro. He’s an itzatsune, you know.”

“What is an it-zat…forgive me, I don’t know the word.”

“Itzatsune,” he repeats. “An assassin.”

A prickly clarity comes upon me as I recall the black-handled blade in the neck of my Topi attacker.

“He is adept in his work,” I say, unsure how to compliment so violent a thing, but still possessing a quiet admiration for Noro’s abilities. “He must be very well suited for the profession.”

Keiji grows somber, his darkly serious expression making him appear even more like his brother. “It is nothing so small as a profession, Vaela Sun. Though the itzatsune are few, they are more important than the whole of our fighting force. They eliminate Topi leaders. They are expert in subterfuge and misdirection. They have prevented any number of assaults upon our villages! Without the assassins, the Topi would have wiped us from the Continent long ago.”

“Forgive me,” I say again. “I know very little about these things.”

He leans back and grins, his natural cheer quite returned. “It’s all right. You’re new here.”

“You’re very kind,” I say. “Very much like your brother.”

He smiles at this. There is a pause while we drink our tea, each of us occupied with our own thoughts.

“Are you named Sun for the color of your hair?” Keiji asks.