Asunder

distracted by my hair. It tugged and tingled across my scalp where he pulled his fingers through the waves. “There are things I should remember, but I don’t.”

“Yeah.” My heart thudded.

“You remember them.”

I offered a pale smile, relief that my newness was good for something. “I wasn’t reborn.”

“And there are things I’m remembering because of you.”

“Yes.” At least, it seemed to be my doing. It was unlikely that after five thousand years, the magic would suddenly begin breaking down in the middle of this lifetime. I was the only thing that had changed.

A tiny sense of importance surged through me.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

I looped my arms around his shoulders and pulled close. “Because I make you remember things?” I didn’t want to think about Janan right now. I wanted Sam to kiss me.

“Because of a lot of reasons.” He read my mind, or read the way our bodies pressed together, only bunched clothes between us.

Our kiss stopped time, stopped thoughts. All I knew was the feel of his mouth, the gasp and shuddered breath, and the calluses of his hands on my back. Cool air fluttered where he’d lifted my shirt, sharp contrast to the way he made me burn with desire. I didn’t have words for what I wanted with him, but if I could push closer and closer“No one would believe Ana was terribly ill for a week if they saw this.” Amusement filled Sarit’s voice, and I spun to find her—and Cris and Stef—crowding the kitchen doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Sarit grinned, not sounding sorry at all. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I thought you should know we brought lunch.”

My face ached with embarrassment, but I didn’t miss the way Cris looked sort of blank and Stef looked… upset? Angry? I couldn’t tell.

“Lunch?” My voice sounded pinched, and I wasn’t sure if I could actually eat after Armande fed me half his pastry stall, but to make the awkward moment go away, I’d eat anything.

The five of us spent the next hour over plates filled with roast cavy and vegetables, catching up, and admiring the roses.

“I recruited Stef and Sarit’s help. I didn’t think you’d mind them wandering around the parlor.” Cris’s plate was empty, but he eyed mine, which was still half-full. He couldn’t still be growing, as tall as he was. Surely he couldn’t. But when I surrendered my leftovers, he seized them as though he hadn’t eaten in days.

“I don’t mind at all.” Sam grinned and found my hand under the table. “Stef lives here part-time anyway, and lately we have Sarit more often than not, too.”

“To be completely honest,” Sarit said, “I must admit that my increased presence since another musician moved in is not a coincidence.” She winked at me. “In fact, didn’t you miss your practice this morning? You should probably play for us now. Call it payment for all the work we did arranging these roses.”

Before I could come up with a response, her SED chirped and she excused herself, vanishing around the corner to the other end of the parlor. Cheerfulness drained from her tone as she spoke, and when she returned, she almost looked her age.

“That was Lidea. Someone smashed a window in Anid’s room. Lots of his things were taken. He wasn’t there, but the threat was clear. Lidea is a wreck, and Wend doesn’t know what to do.” She pressed her mouth in a line. “I’m not sure Wend is handling the stress well. Everyone he lost during Templedark, and now this? It isn’t the first time they’ve received threats, but it’s certainly the worst.”

I couldn’t think around the rushing in my head. Someone had tried to hurt Anid.

As much as I wanted to be shocked that anyone would do this…I knew how I’d grown up, how Li had always treated me, and how people still leered at me. They would keep trying to hurt Anid.

“This will only escalate,” I whispered, and everyone faced me.

“Ana, dear.” Stef’s tone turned comforting. “Lidea is strong. She’ll make sure Anid is safe. You shouldn’t worry about it.”

“No.” My voice broke as I lurched to my feet. “I must worry about it. Newsouls will keep coming, and they’ll all face this kind of hatred. If I don’t stand up for them, who will?”

“We all will,” Cris said. “We’re your friends. We want to help.”

Sam gazed at me, waiting. He looked proud, which made my heart flutter.

“I know what to do,” I said after a moment, and counted days in my head. Less than a week, but maybe… “I have an idea, but I need to speak to people. Tonight.”

Part of me was ready for them to try talking me out of it. A smaller part expected laughter and placation. But Stef’s expression grew serious, focused, and she pulled out her SED. “All right. Who do you want?”

Relief poured through me. “Trustworthy people. You guys. Lidea and Wend. Orrin and Whit.

Armande.”

“What about Sine?” Cris asked.

I shook my head. “I think this would conflict with her office too much.” She’d been different toward me lately, anyway. Probably because she was the Speaker now and the Council pressured her more than ever, but her being the Council Speaker made the decision easier.

I listed off a few more people, and everyone was on their SEDs, sending messages. Warmth replaced the horror of Sarit’s announcement. I could do something. I might not be able to do anything for the souls inside the temple, but I would convince the Council that newsouls deserved to be treated like real people.

Even though I’d invited them, everyone’s arrival still surprised me.

Some, like Moriah and Lorin, were Sam’s friends who’d given me lessons in various subjects. But Whit and Orrin were my friends, and liked to tease me about how much time I spent in the library. More than a few times, they’d tried to convince me to become an archivist with them.

Lidea, Wend, and Anid arrived last, the baby bundled in a hundred blankets. Wend hauled a small nursery in a bag, shooting me a strange look as he followed Lidea inside.

Armande appropriated the kitchen to make coffee and tea, and after everyone had a turn cooing at Anid and admiring the roses, they settled on chairs, music benches, and the sofa, waiting to find out why I’d asked them here.

Well, there was no way I could see everyone from the floor, and Sam wouldn’t appreciate it if I stood on top of the piano. I climbed up the first few stairs, leaning my elbows on the rail so I could look at everyone.

From his place beside Stef, Sam gave me an encouraging smile. He made me feel strong.

I gathered my thoughts and cleared my throat, and everyone looked up. “I want to start by reminding you what happened the night Anid was born.

“It was, from what I understand, a normal rebirthing. Lots of people were present, hoping a friend would be reincarnated. But when the Soul Tellers announced Anid was new, everything changed. Some of you were there. You remember how people yelled, threatened him, even though he hadn’t done anything except be born.”

People nodded, and Lidea held Anid to her chest as though she relived those minutes, not knowing whether the crowd would hurt her child. Her eyes shone with tears, and Wend sat stiffly next to her, his expression hard.

“The fact is, more newsouls are going to be born, and there shouldn’t be a need to guard the birthing room. I know people are afraid of what this means, or angry that some souls aren’t coming back. Those both are perfectly reasonable reactions, but—” I stopped myself before getting into the same discussion Sam and I had after the Council pulled him aside. I thought it was better that newsouls were being born—rather than no one being born—but for others, newsouls would be a constant reminder of Templedark and the souls who’d been lost.

“My point is—” I smoothed the shaking from my voice, needing to sound stronger. “Unless we do something, people will continue acting out against newsouls. I’m sure you’ve all heard Merton and his friends in the market field, yelling about me.”

“Anid, too,” Lorin added.

At least Merton had a reason to yell about me. The way sylph behaved around me was suspicious. But Anid hadn’t done anything.

“I want to tell you what it was like growing up. Not just because of Li”—people hissed at her name