I raised a brow at her. “IfCalomyrhadn’t been there? Calomyr wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for me.Youwouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”
Her brows furrowed, face puzzled. “I only meant–”
“I can’t listen to you speak any more, Ma.” She flinched with hurt. Her Saints damned helplessness filled me with rage.
“Thank you, Petra,” she said sheepishly.
I nodded absentmindedly as my brain collapsed in on itself, exhausted from running in circles, unconsciously falling through the unknown and escaping death. I was overwhelmed.
My glance unintentionally landed on Solise, who had shifted uncomfortably where she stood. She took a long sip from her own mug of tea. “What?” I asked her, sensingsomething.She gave a curt shake of her head, dismissing me. “What?” I snapped. I hadn’t meant for my tone to be so harsh.
“Petra!” my mother scolded.
“He just… Something about Calomyr is…” she blinked rapidly as she searched for the words. “It’soff.”
“How so?” I pressed.
“It just is,” she shrugged, her brows furrowed. “Just…be careful.” The words struck me, echoing through my mind in his pleasing voice. I thought back to our conversations, to his kindness… What could be off about him?
“He saved our lives, Solise.” My mother’s tone was firm. I shot her a look.
“He did, as did Petra,” she amended. “That I do not deny. But call it instinct or intuition or the soothsayer in my family line… I advise you to be wary of him.”
Soothsayer?
“I need to lie down.” I quickly stood, feeling faint and placing my tea on the table. “Thank you, Solise,” I said curtly, hoping the sincere appreciation that I felt permeated my sharp tone. I did not want to be rude, but my mind was raging hotter than our house had.
She had made up her son’s small bed and a palette of quilts on the floor to accommodate my mother and me until…well, until we figured everything out.
The light whistling in my breathing subsided as I laid down, the soft chatter of Solise and my mother drifting around the corner from her small kitchen. I’m sure they were writing off my outburst as the rants of someone who’d inhaled too much smoke.
We lost our house. Da. Larka. I lost the life I knew. I rolled to my side, the smell of burning wood still lingering around me, and fell into a sleep so dreamless I wondered if death had indeed taken me.