like Stef and Cris, pining lifetimes later.
Cold sapped moisture from my skin. I licked my lips and ducked into my scarf. “So after a while,” I said, “you regretted the decision not to find a way to work it out?”
He nodded and guided me around a corner. Snow built up in yards and on trees, reflecting temple light enough to illuminate our path. “I’ve lived long enough to know there are things worth regretting, but there’s nothing you can do to change the past. And yet, sometimes it works out anyway, in ways you don’t expect.”
Did he mean me? I couldn’t bring myself to ask. The things I wanted to say and do but didn’t know how— they felt like a wall between us. “Do you still regret it? Whatever it was you couldn’t agree on?”
“I regret that I hurt her so badly. And that we didn’t speak for a hundred years because of it. By the time he presented the roses and no one thought they were blue—that was both of our last generations—I felt like saying anything would just make it worse for both of us.”
My face did something between a smile and a grimace. “I hate admitting when I’m wrong, too.”
Sam pulled out his SED. The glow shone on his frown, and the line between his eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he tapped the screen a few times and pressed the device to his ear.
I blinked away light and let my eyes adjust to the darkness once more. “I’m worried we haven’t heard from him. Even more worried he didn’t care for his garden.”
“Me too.” Sam replaced the SED in his pocket. “After the blue rose challenge was first issued, Cris packed up everything and built his cottage so he could work without everyone watching and criticizing his progress.
“One spring, he came back to Heart for supplies. It had been an especially unfriendly winter, but it was warm when he set out. Of course, as soon as he got home, a blizzard came through. He’d left his plants ready for spring, so they were still delicate. As soon as he realized how bad the weather was going to get, he turned his horse around. He made the entire trip in a day and a half and saved all his roses at the last minute. Didn’t lose even a leaf.”
That sounded like the Cris I sort of knew, and solidified my worry. Had something happened to him?
“There.” Sam pointed to a glow ahead. “Whit’s home, at least.”
It was almost a relief to go back to thinking about explosions. Thinking about Sam’s long history of one- sided relationships—My heart couldn’t take it.
23
FREEZE
INSIDE WHIT’S HOUSE, warmth prickled across my face as I unwrapped my scarf and pulled off my coat. I’d just have to put them on again, but I didn’t want to risk sweating inside and then freezing outside later.
“We were curious if you’d heard anything about the explosions last night.” Sam pocketed his mittens.
His cheeks were flushed dark with chill.
“Just what everyone was told. I saw Jac’s house go up last night.” He glanced at me, his expression somber. “She was on our list of people to speak with. So were most of the other victims.”
“All of them were,” I said, “but I didn’t bring up a couple last night because only a few people were supposed to know.” Sarit had told me privately she’d talk to them.
“How did you know, then?” He cocked his head.
I shrugged and fiddled with my mittens. “Sometimes people just tell me things. I don’t know why.”
Mostly a lie. People told Sarit, and Sarit told me because she didn’t think it was fair if I didn’t know just as much gossip as everyone else.
“I see.” Whit sat on the arm of his sofa, a monstrosity of faded gray and orange fabric that dominated the room. The rest was all bookcases and what looked like old board games on a long table. “I wish I had answers for you, but I came right here after the meeting. I walked part of the way with Lorin and Armande, but eventually we did have to go our separate paths. Orrin stayed behind to visit Geral. Cris, too.”
I nodded. “Have you seen Cris today?”
Whit stared through a bookcase. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. People often go days or weeks without seeing even close friends.”
That sounded crazy and lonely to me. I wanted to see my friends all the time. But maybe friendship was different when you’d been at it five thousand years.
“He isn’t home, and all his plants are uncovered.” Sam looked worried again. “We were just there.”
“Well, that’s a bad sign.” Whit scowled.
“To put it mildly.” Sam didn’t smile. “I was just telling Ana about the time he raced back to Purple Rose Cottage to beat the frost.”
“Cris would do anything for those plants.” Whit shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his mouth.
Then it dropped, like he remembered Cris was missing. “I’ll call a few of his friends. Maybe they know something.”
“It’s strange,” I said, “that the explosions would happen just after the meeting. It could be coincidence, but…”
Whit shook his head. “I can’t imagine anyone in that crowd doing something like that. They’re all good people. You chose well.”
The compliment drifted by. I’d chosen well, but somehow, people had still been hurt. I should have done something different. Something
“Keeping them together makes them an easy target,” Whit said.
“Then not together. There are lots of places in Heart that aren’t being used right now.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Ana, but it’s unlikely anyone on the Council would tell you what they have planned. They might very well be doing exactly what you’ve suggested, but the fewer people who know the details, the safer everyone will be.” Whit leaned on a table, near a board game with tricolored tiles and pieces shaped like horses in various stages of rearing or running. “I wish I could give you answers.”
“What about Deborl?” I asked.
Whit lowered his voice. “He’s a Councilor.”
“Who hates newsouls.” Maybe I didn’t know Deborl well, but I knew enough about him and his choice of friends. Merton had attacked me, spoken out against me, said those horrible things after Anid was born. And Deborl hadn’t seemed to care when someone attacked me in the market field. “Do you think anyone might have let it slip to Deborl—”
“That fast?” Whit shook his head. “Everyone was at Sam’s for a long time after the discussion. No one left early, right? No one had time to speak to anyone, accidentally reveal our plans, and then the second person go out and set explosives. There just wasn’t time.”
How long did it take to set up an explosive and get away? Or not get away, if it was Deborl? He’d been at Geral’s. “SED messages.”
Neither Sam nor Whit argued with that possibility.
“What are you trying to prove?” Red veined Whit’s eyes; I was upsetting him. “Do you want someone to have betrayed us? Why are you pushing so hard?”
“Someone has to.” My throat tightened, making my voice pinched and desperate. “I hate the idea of someone betraying us, but I swore I’d protect newsouls to the best of my ability. I have to.”
Both men stayed silent, just watching me like I might burst.
At last, Whit spoke softly. “Would it be easier if one of our friends were somehow responsible for this?”
“Easier than watching more newsouls die.” I swallowed hard. “Easier than not being able to do anything at all.”
Whit glanced at Sam, something passing between them, and then Sam touched my elbow. “We’d better go.”
I wanted to apologize to Whit, but I wasn’t sure what it’d be an apology for. Instead, I thanked him for his time as I pulled on all my warm clothes again. Sam and I headed out.
“I can’t protect newsouls from Janan.” My eyes stung with tears and cold. “I can’t pull them out of the
