Starfall (Starflight #2)(20)

An hour had passed, and he still hadn’t let go of her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he said for the tenth time. “I wanted to, but I was afraid the Daeva might find you.”

She patted his cheek. “You’re safe. That’s all I care about.”

While they sat side by side at a rustic kitchen table, he smoothed a thumb over the back of her hand. It was the only part of her that had aged. Her once-clear skin was now covered in dark spots and a road map of bluish veins. Those small changes, along with the dirt stains beneath her nails and a slight trembling of her fingers, hinted that she hadn’t simply lived on this farm. She’d worked on it, too. He figured she’d lost her job as a dressmaker in the palace—luxuries were always the first casualty of war—but he didn’t like her doing manual labor.

“Are they good to you here?” he whispered, nodding toward the middle-aged farmer scrubbing root vegetables in the sink. The man housed a lot of transients under his roof, most of them women who slept six to a room on blanket pallets. The farmer kept glancing over his shoulder as if to check on her, like she needed protection from her own son. Kane scowled and scooted his chair to block the man’s view. “Be honest. If you don’t feel safe, I’ll move you into the palace.”

“The palace,” she spat as if it were a dirty word. “They turned me out the morning after you left.”

“Before the war?”

Instead of answering, his mother paused to let him figure it out.

“Oh.” He hung his head. “Because it was your dastardly son who ran away with the princess and ruined her for all other men.”

“It worked out for the best,” she said, and used a kerchief to blot her dewy cheeks. “I’m happy here, and they need me. I like making a difference. I network with other farms to trade food for labor. I place orphans in safe homes. I even created a medicine swap.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“It’s about survival now. We need food and shelter more than we need dresses.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he told her. “If it makes any difference, the rumors aren’t true. We left because Cassia was in trouble.”

“That’s why she left,” his mom said with a knowing smile. “But it’s not the reason you followed her, Doodlebug.”

He whipped his gaze over both shoulders to ensure no one except the farmer was within earshot. If his nickname made it back to the crew, he’d never hear the end of it. “Mom,” he whispered, drawing out the word. “You can’t call me that anymore.”

She gave him a watery sort of grin that tugged at his heart. “All little boys grow up and leave home, but for a mother, nothing changes. You’ll always be my Doodlebug.”

He squeezed her hand and looked down at her fingers. Was it his imagination, or were they trembling harder than before? He was about to brush it off as nerves when she blotted her cheeks again. That was the second time she’d grown sweaty, but the kitchen didn’t feel hot. If anything, he could use a sweater.

“Are you all right?” he asked while inspecting her complexion. Her color seemed fine, the same shade as his with a rosy undertone in her cheeks. “You look jittery.”

She flapped a dismissive hand. “We finally got a ration of coffee this morning. I haven’t had any since the war began. There’s too much giddyup in my blood. That’s all.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

Before she could answer, someone knocked on the kitchen window. He glanced at the back porch, where a young Booter waved at him through the glass. Kane didn’t recognize the soldier at first, but then the boy pulled off his hat, revealing an enormous pair of ears that lifted when he smiled.

“Badger!” Kane called.

He crossed to the back door and greeted his friend with a one-armed hug that was more of a mutual slapping of backs. The guy’s real name was Norton, but even in his stately military uniform, he was the same goofy kid who used to ditch class and flush sonic bombs down the toilets in the boys’ room.

“You’re a Booter?” Kane asked. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

Badger brushed the dust from his sleeves. “Hey, the ladies love a guy in uniform. Plus I get first dibs on rations.” He tipped his hat at Kane’s mom. “Isn’t that right, ma’am?”

“It’s true,” she said. “Thanks again for the coffee.” The affection in her eyes indicated Badger was a regular here. Kane made a mental note to thank his friend for checking in on her.

“Hey,” Badger said to him. “Is there someplace quiet we can talk?”

The farmer was obviously eavesdropping, because he’d been washing the same potato for five minutes. He wiped both hands on his pants and thumbed at the kitchen table. “You two can stay here. Rena and I have to tend to the hatchlings.”

Kane frowned. He didn’t like the farmer calling his mom by her first name, and he especially didn’t like the man settling a hand on her lower back when they walked into the backyard. Leaning out the open doorway, he squinted at them until they disappeared inside the barn. Something was up with those two.

“Is it just me,” Kane asked, “or is he putting the moves on her?”