Finn nodded, laughing. “Is that so hard to believe? As I said, we’ve both changed over the past four years.”
“Finn suffered a serious wound on the battlefield last summer,” Bayar said. “He spent a great deal of time under Lord Vega’s care. Now he’s got it into his head that he wants to be a healer. Hopefully a season emptying bedpans and treating Tamric boils will—”
“This is not some kind of whim, Uncle Micah,” Finn said. “I know you think I should have returned to the academy, but this is the path I’ve chosen. My parents are supportive, and that should be enough for you.”
“They’re more supportive of your betrothal than of your chosen vocation,” Bayar retorted. “Anything that keeps you here until the deed is accomplished is—”
“You’re out of line, Uncle,” Finn snapped. “If you want to run somebody’s life, then you should have had a son of your own.”
Bayar gazed at him for a long moment. “Perhaps so,” he said. He delivered another brief bow to Ash. “Your Highness.” And he walked away, his robes swirling around him.
“He had such high hopes for me,” Finn said in a flat voice, looking after the High Wizard. “He doesn’t understand that I’ve changed. He thinks I don’t know what I’m doing, but I do.”
“Don’t let it bother you,” Ash said, instantly on Finn’s side. Anyone in opposition to Bayar was an ally. “What’s this about a betrothal? Who’s the bride-to-be?”
Finn brightened, looking over Ash’s shoulder. “Here she comes now.”
Ash turned to see his cousin Julianna striding toward them, lit up like Solstice. She’d changed as well. In contrast to the frilly clothes Aunt Mellony used to dress her in, she wore a long wool skirt and a tailored jacket. Her hair was wound into a twist on the back of her head.
He’d always thought of her as something of a lightweight, but now she looked like someone who could get things done.
“Cousin!” she said, embracing him. “I see you’ve found my fiancé.”
Ash stood like a stump, rooted to the floor, but Julianna had enough enthusiasm for both of them. After a moment, she held him out at arm’s length, laughing. “You look like you’ve been run over by a cart,” she said. “I hope you approve?”
“Of course I approve,” Ash said. “I just . . . I never realized . . . you and Finn?” He remembered what his mother had said. You think time stops at home while you grow and change.
“It’s very recent news,” Julianna said, splaying her hand in front of Ash’s face, showing off her emerald ring. “So you’re not too far behind everyone else. I’ve asked Alyssa to stand up with us, and I hope . . .” She glanced at Finn, then back at Ash. “It might not be my place to ask, but I hope you will, too. Now that you’re back from the dead.”
“From dead to living,” Finn said. “I think you’ve changed more than anyone. And of course I would be honored to have you as part of our celebration, if you are still here.”
Another dig?
No, Ash thought. Not from Finn. You’ve got to grow a thicker skin, sul’Han, if you’re going to see subtext in every remark.
“My mother’s made it clear that she’s not letting me out of her sight for a good while,” Ash said, grimacing.
“Can you blame her?” This was a new voice, a clan voice, coming from behind. Ash turned to see Fire Dancer, possibly his father’s oldest friend. He was a little more weathered than before, but blessedly familiar.
“Dancer!” he said. “I—I heard about Cat. I am so sorry.”
“Catfire went down fighting, which is the way she would have wanted it,” Dancer said, using her upland name. “The time for your Naeming has come and gone. Are you still Speaks to Horses? Or have you taken a new name since you went away?”
“I’ve taken many new names,” Ash said, “but I’ve not let go of that one yet.”
“Then perhaps we can do that at midsummer,” Dancer said. “When you’ve decided what your name should be.”
Runs Away? Ash thought. Flees the Field?
“I heard about Shadow’s fiancée,” Ash said in a low voice. “Is he here?”
With that, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Adrian spun, his hand automatically finding his amulet, until he saw that it was Shadow Dancer, a cup in his hand.
“I am here, Speaks to Horses,” Shadow said. “It does my heart good to see that you are quicker than you used to be.” His words were thick, and Ash caught the scent of blue ruin on his breath.
“And you are slower than you should be,” Fire Dancer said, taking the cup from his son’s hand and setting it on a nearby table. He nodded at both of them before he walked away.
“Better slow than dead,” Shadow said, gazing after his father.
“I heard about your betrothed,” Ash said, not wanting to dance around the topic. “I’m so sorry.”
“Everyone is,” Shadow said. “And, now, even my revenge has been stolen from me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Somebody got to the king of Arden before I did,” Shadow said, retrieving his cup and draining it. “Killing him was the only thing I had to look forward to.” He thumped his cup down on the table. When he turned back to Ash, he frowned. “What?”
“N-nothing,” Ash said. “Let’s just celebrate the fact that he’s dead. Maybe this will be an opportunity for peace.”
“Southerners killed my mother and my fiancée,” Shadow said. “There is a huge blood debt that has not yet been paid.”
“Collecting on a blood debt is never as satisfying as you think it will be,” Ash said, feeling like the worst kind of hypocrite.
“How do you know?” Shadow growled. “Flatlanders murdered your father and sister, and they tried to murder you. Haven’t you ever wanted to take revenge?”
“Of course,” Ash said, wishing he could extricate himself from this awkward conversation. “But if the war goes
