Under The Willow Root

“Do you ever wonder if the person in the puddle is real, and you’re just a reflection of him?”--Bill Watterson, Calvin And Hobbes

I spend the next week avoiding Luca. It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be--I didn’t realize before just how often we saw each other. I have more than a little trouble thinking up excuses. I miss him more than I want to admit, but I don’t want to see him until I know what to say. I don’t want to stop spending time with him, but I’m pretty sure it will be at least a lie of omission if I don’t tell him I’m going to have to leave at some point. I could tell him, but tell him what, exactly? Certainly not the whole truth. But do I really want to risk getting attached when I know it can’t go anywhere?

It’s not a risk, I admit. I’m already attached. I guess the question is how badly do I want to hurt, and when? The smart thing to do would be to suck it up and break things off with Luca now, before my feelings for him get any deeper. But every time I try to imagine never seeing him again, I get sick to my stomach and my throat closes up.

Sadra, predictably, casts her vote for breaking it off. She’s a lot more sympathetic than I thought she’d be, but she doesn’t try to sugar coat the fact that being with him is a risk to our security as well as to my heart. I’m glad no one suggests I make a list of pros and cons, because I know exactly what the outcome would be. Everything points to letting him go, but I just...I don’t want to. At all.

So I mope around the Temple, trying to delay the inevitable and infecting everyone with my crappy mood...until Luca shows up right outside my bedroom door looking like he’s preparing to face a firing squad. I look around, but there’s no one else, not even Kirit.

“Someone brought me up,” Luca explains. “Feli, I think.”

“Oh,” I say. “She shouldn’t have--she should have told you, I’m supposed to be in the studio.”

“Actually, she said all your classes are done for the day,” he says.

“Well, I need to practice,” I mutter, avoiding his eyes. “This really isn’t a good time--”

“Sasha, what’s going on?” Luca demands. “Why have you been avoiding me? Is it because I made fun of your wig the other day? I--”

“No, you didn’t do anything,” I say, shaking my head vigorously.

“Then you don’t deny that you’ve been avoiding me,” Luca says.

I shake my head.

“Are you going to tell me why?” he asks.

I shake my head again. I whisper, “I can’t.”

“Well, then come with me,” he says. “Let me distract you from whatever it is until you’re ready to talk about it. I have something special that I want you to see.”

I hesitate, but my self control melts when he takes my hand.

“Let me just change into something less...this,” I say, motioning to my ratty, sweat-stained dance outfit with a weak laugh.

“No, that’s good,” Luca says. “I don’t want you to ruin anything nice.”

“What kind of ‘something special’ makes you worry about ruining my clothes?” I ask as I put my boots on.

“Secret,” Luca says with slightly forced cheer.

I follow Luca through a section of the City I’m not familiar with. Opportunities for conversation should be thick on the ground, but nothing seems to feel right. It’s like we’re strangers again, bumbling through our first date, only now our cocktail of awkwardness includes ingredients like dread, disappointment, and guilt. It’s awful. But his hand on mine feels so good. It’s the only thing that keeps me from turning around and running for my life.

“Are we leaving the City?” I finally ask. “We’re not going into the Terrace, are we?”

“Nearly,” Luca says. “We’re going to the Prince’s kennels.”

“Really? Why?”

“Secret,” he says again, and we lapse back into uncomfortable silence.

When we arrive, I don’t realize it at first. The kennels look more like a villa. I have no idea what kennels are supposed to look like, but I’m sure this isn’t it. It’s like a spa for dogs. Luca leads me through three different courtyards--one for each pack, he tells me--and into a small room lined with a thick layer of straw.

“Puppies!” I squeal, clutching Luca’s arm. “Can I--”

“Go ahead,” Luca chuckles, and I fall to my knees.

Six--no, seven--puppies throw themselves at me, many falling over themselves in their enthusiasm. I gather as many as I can into my arms and accept their smelly little puppy kisses, smiling rapturously all the while. Luca sits next to their mother and accepts a few kisses of his own as he watches me with a silly smile on his face. I cuddle the littlest one to my chest, cooing nonsense at it. The adorableness is so overwhelming I’m practically drunk with it.

“Luca, this is amazing,” I sigh. “Thank you.”

“That’s Pretty Girl you have there,” he says. “You like her?”

“I love her,” I gush, kissing the top of the puppy’s head.

“Good,” he says. “Because she’s yours.”

“What?” I stare at him blankly. “What do you mean, mine?”

“She’s the runt,” Luca says. “I can’t keep her as a hunter. So I’m giving her to you.”

“Oh, Luca,” I cry softly. “Luca, I can’t.”

“She can stay with me if you can’t keep her at the Temple,” he says quickly. “And you can come see her and play with her whenever you want, and I’ll bring her with me and Kirit when we come to see you. You said you’ve never had a dog and...well, you should have a dog.”

I bury my head in Pretty Girl’s fur to hide my tears and she licks them away. It makes me cry harder. I feel Luca’s hands on mine, gently pulling them away from Pretty Girl and bringing them to his chest.

“Sasha, tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads.

“I can’t take her. I’m leaving,” I sob.

“Leaving--but why? When?” he asks. His hands tighten in shock.

“I don’t know,” I say miserably. “Not exactly. It could be a few months, or it could be a year. And I can’t tell you why.”

“Are you in some kind of danger?” he asks.

“Yes, but I can’t tell you more than that, so please don’t ask,” I beg.

“I understand,” he says. “But--maybe I can help. You know I haven’t been...forthcoming about some things. I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to just be you and me, without any complications or--or expectations, or anything.”

“Told me what?” I sniff.

“My name is Lucoran,” he says. “I’m the Prince’s brother--his half brother. He’ll listen to me. He would help you. Whatever it is--whatever you need.”

“The Prince is your brother,” I repeat, nonplussed. “Then you’re…”

“No,” he says quickly. “I’m nothing, officially. I’m a bastard. Acknowledged by my father, but nothing more. But Costi--Miocostin--he has always been my true brother. He’ll help us if you just tell me what your trouble is.”

“I can’t,” I whisper, my breath catching on tears. “You don’t understand. Believe me, I wish I could tell you. But I can’t.”

Luca puts his arms around me and holds me for the first time. I hate that it feels so wonderful. I hate that the first time also has to be the last time. I lean into him, trying to memorize every sensation, until my tears stop.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks, pulling away slightly so he can look down at me.

I nod. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want it to be over.”

“Over? I don’t think it should be over,” Luca says.

“Luca, I’m leaving,” I say. “If we let this go on, it will only hurt more when the time comes.”

“I don’t care,” he declares. “I’d rather be with you for a little while than not at all.”

My heart leaps, but I force myself to think rationally. “Luca, I…it would be better to end this now.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Luca insists, pulling me closer. “It wouldn’t be better at all.”

“Luca, please,” I whisper.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he warns me, his face inches from mine. “Slap me now if you don’t want me to.”

I don’t slap him. We spend the whole night wrapped around each other, kissing and rolling around in the hay. I wonder several times if it’s going to go farther, but it doesn’t. Luca doesn’t seem to mind, though. Sometimes he spends whole minutes at a time just staring at my face. It should be disconcerting, but it’s not. I stare right back. He has the most beautiful eyes, mossy green surrounded by thick, black lashes I’d kill for. A lock of dark hair falls across his forehead and I push it back, letting my hand slide down to rest on his cheek.

I fall asleep a few hours before dawn with my head pillowed on Luca’s stomach and puppies piled on top of my legs. I wake up to Pretty Girl licking my nose. Her little tail whips back and forth furiously, making her whole body wiggle. I push her away groggily and wipe my nose clean with the back of my hand. My mouth feels strange, puffy and chapped and hot. I like it.

“Luca,” I murmur, twisting around so I can shake him. “Luca, wake up.”

“I’m awake,” he grunts. He looks down at me and smiles. “The sun shines on you.”

“And on you.” I smile back. I’m exhausted and I have a terrible crick in my neck, but I’ve never felt better. “How late is it, do you think?”

Luca peers out the window, squinting. “Two hours after dawn?”

I groan and sit up, rubbing my eyes. “I have to get back.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Luca says, and rolls to his feet. He takes my hands to help me up and pulls me into his arms. “I’m glad we’re doing this. Are you?”

“Yes,” I say honestly. “I still think it’s a mistake, but yes.”

“Well, we’re young and daring,” he says with a grin.

“Where I come from, the saying is ‘young and stupid,’” I say wryly.

“I hope one day you can tell me more about where you come from,” Luca says shyly.

My smile falters. “Luca…”

“I know,” he sighs. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to start prying.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. I fiddle with the collar of his shirt. “Will you come see me later?”

“Of course,” he says, kissing me swiftly. “And I’ll bring Pretty Girl and Kirit. We’ll take them to the gardens and you can start training your new puppy.”

“I don’t know anything about training a puppy,” I protest.

“I’ll tell you what to do,” he assures me. “Don’t worry, it will be fun. Come on, now, you still need to clean up before your lessons.”

Luca walks me back to the Temple and pulls me into a secluded nook to say goodbye. I emerge with a silly smile on my face and dash up the Temple steps, taking them two at a time. I give myself an impromptu bath a-la Feli and Kana and make it to the studio just in time.

“You look different,” a five year old boy comments gravely as I greet my students.

“It’s because I missed you,” I say with a smile, and ruffle his hair. “Did you all have a good time with your families yesterday?”

The children all start talking at once, and it takes a few minutes to settle down again. Once everyone is in order, I signal the harp player to begin playing and we start our warm ups. I go through everything in a haze of fatigue and euphoria, a combination I’ve never experienced before.

The closest I’ve ever come was in the hospital, of all places. I had to have my appendix removed, and the doctors gave me some kind of sedative before putting me under anesthesia. One second I was sick and in pain, and the next I was floating, smiling and giggling at the doctors even though my brain was foggy and my limbs were heavy and tired.

Later that evening, Luca shows up with Kirit and Pretty Girl...and Sadra. As we walk to the gardens, I explain in a whisper about Pretty Girl and my decision to keep seeing Luca. I brace myself for a fight, but Sadra just presses her lips together and shrugs. I know it won’t last long. I’ll have to tell her about who Luca really is, and then it will really hit the fan.

We have such a good time in the gardens that even Sadra is won over by Pretty Girl. We’re all completely smitten with her. I love her fluffy ears and her black button nose and her gangly little legs flying everywhere. So far “training” seems a lot like playing and cuddling, but Luca assures me that establishing a bond between us is the first step.

“She’s a sighthound, isn’t she?” Sadra asks curiously, studying Pretty Girl as she trips over herself. She seems to be all legs. “But lighter than most. Almost...dainty. An odd choice for the Prince.”

“It is an odd choice,” Luca agrees. “The Prince came upon the breed in the eastern plains and took a fancy to them. They’re not naturally suited to hills and valleys, but they do well enough coursing for deer. Enthusiasm and loyalty can make up for a lot, and they have plenty of both.”

“She’s beautiful, whatever she is,” I say, tossing a small stick down the path.

Pretty Girl dashes after it. Right now she’s clumsy and goofy looking, but I can see a hint of what she’ll grow up to be. I smile, then remember that I probably won’t be here when she’s grown. The knowledge sticks in my throat. I look at Luca and Sadra and the lump in my throat sinks down to my stomach, where it sits like a cold, hard lump of granite.

I push the lump down even further and force myself to smile at Luca like nothing is wrong. I’ll have to leave when the time comes. I have to try to go home. I have no choice.

“I have to,” I whisper, but it sounds like a question.

“Ms. Somers,” the nurse says. “I understand your frustration. Just try to remember anything you can.”

“I don’t remember anything,” Emily snaps. “I was a little kid, I didn’t know what was going on. I only found out about it after Nadia died.”

“Well,” the nurse says with an edge to her voice. “In that case, I’m not sure what you expect us to do with this information. Without her medical records--”

“If you need the medical records, go and find them,” Emily fumes.

“We need more than just a name--”

“Oh, come on,” Emily scoffs. “How many Lara Ashleys can there be?”

“Let me get you a list of all the hospitals in the region,” the nurse says. “And you can call and find out.”

“Sasha,” Sadra groans. “You can’t. The Prince’s brother! The Prince! Ismeni! Cimari! It’s just--just--gah!”

She throws herself down on the bed and stares angrily at the ceiling. I cross my arms and glare at her.

“I’m not arguing about this anymore,” I snap. “It’s done.”

“It’s stupid and dangerous is what it is,” Sadra says. “And pointless. You’re leaving, have you forgotten that?”

“I don’t care,” I say stubbornly.

“I could go to Caris,” Sadra threatens. “You heard her--they’ll drop you like a hot coal.”

“Don’t joke about that,” I say.

“I’m not joking,” Sadra tells me. “Sasha, you’re not the only one you’re putting in danger.”

“I’ll be careful,” I insist. “And Luca would never hurt me.”

“Not intentionally,” Sadra allows. “But he doesn’t know about you. So how can he know what might hurt you? Hurt us, let me remind you. Again.”

“It’s going to be fine,” I say stiffly. I turn away.

“I can’t believe how selfish you’re being,” Sadra cries. “If Ismeni finds out that you’re alive, it will get back to Cimari and then the House…”

“Fine,” I snap. “Go tell Caris. Take away my only happiness and ruin my only chance at going home.”

“Your only happiness!” Sadra scoffs. “I’ve done nothing to add to your happiness, I suppose. I’ve just been following you around and making you miserable for the last year like your own personal dust cloud.”

“Sadra, I didn’t mean it like that,” I say with a pang.

“Then how did you mean it?” Sadra demands. “Because everything I’m hearing tells me you value Luca’s kisses more than you value my friendship--or my life.”

“You’re being dramatic,” I tell her. “Ismeni has never set foot in the kennels, and I won’t go anywhere near the Terrace. He doesn’t know her, and I don’t see how she could know him. He doesn’t mix with Terrace folk and never goes to court functions. He’s no more a danger now than he was before. You’re just using this as an excuse--you never wanted me to be with him.”

“I was the one encouraging you to see him,” Sadra yells, throwing her hands up in frustration. “But that was before we knew you were going to leave. Before there were other people willing to risk their lives to help you leave. Sasha, it’s ridiculous that we’re even talking about this. What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I shoot back. “Nothing is wrong with me--or Luca. Go tattle on me if you want, but don’t ask me to forgive you for it.”

“You are such an adolescent,” Sadra cries. “You kiss a boy and the rest of the world just disappears.”

“You’re overreacting,” I tell her for the fifth time in as many days. “I’m not going to give up something that makes me as happy as he does if I don’t have to. And I don’t--he’s not going to put me or any of us in any danger.”

Sadra opens her mouth to retort, but I cut her off. “I’m done talking about this. You do what you want. I have to go.”

“Sasha!” Sadra barks as I turn to the door. “Come back here. We’re not done.”

I spin around and hiss furiously, “Don’t tell me what to do. The entire time you’ve known me, you’ve treated me like I’m your child. But you are not my mother and you are not my mistress. I will choose what to do with my life, and I choose to be with Luca. And if you force me to choose between you, I’ll choose him.”

I stalk out of the room and slam the door behind me. I’m supposed to be meeting Luca for dinner--that’s what started the argument--but my fight with Sadra has sucked all the pleasure out of it. I’m not even sure I want to see him just now, even though it’s hardly his fault that Sadra and I had a fight. That’s nobody’s fault but my own.

I almost turn back. I didn’t mean most of what I said. I certainly didn’t mean that I would choose Luca over her. At least, I don’t think I meant it. But then I remember her complete conviction that she knows better and her self-righteous anger at my refusal to do as she says--like she really believes that the decision is hers to make, that I need her permission. I shake my head and keep going.

I can tell Luca knows there’s something wrong, but he doesn’t ask. He fills the silence easily, tactfully steering the conversation in directions that require little to no input from me. In most people, the ability to babble on command isn’t all that valuable or desirable, but I’ve never minded Luca’s chatter. I like listening to him talk, sometimes especially when I don’t need to pay attention to what he’s saying. It’s comforting, like listening to a cat’s purr or the ocean’s waves.

“Now,” Luca says when we’re out of the tavern. “What crawled up your skirt and bit you on the bum?”

“Excuse me?” I giggle, startled out of my moping.

“Why are you in such a bad mood?” he translates, pulling me close to his side. “You haven’t changed your mind about us, have you?”

I pause and nearly trip. Luca stops and turns me to face him. He looks down at me with worry in every line of his face.

“Sasha?”

“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” I say firmly. I sigh. “Sadra and I have been fighting, and tonight...it was bad. I said some really awful things.”

“What were you fighting about?” Luca asks.

“Sadra thinks it’s a bad idea for me to get too close to you,” I say reluctantly. “Because of my...my troubles. She thinks that you could put me--us--in danger without realizing it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Luca says softly. “I know I said I wouldn’t pry, but...”

“You did say that,” I say sharply. “So don’t.”

“Sasha, if my not knowing could hurt you--”

“Please,” I beg, putting my hands on his chest. “I spent all afternoon fighting with Sadra. I don’t want to fight with you, too.”

“Alright,” Luca sighs. “But I wish you would trust me.”

I shoot an irritated glance at him. It’s like he and Sadra are conspiring to make me feel like a jerk. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t tell him. Even I can’t deny that. If I did and Caris found out about it, I would lose her support. I still might, if Sadra follows through with her threat.

Luca walks me home, like always, but his good-night kiss is perfunctory and bland. I mutter a sullen goodnight and go in to dinner even though I just ate. I want to get something to take up to my room for later in case I get hungry. I get all sweaty and nervous anytime my stomach so much as growls.

I go to bed early. I don’t feel like talking to anyone and no one really wants to talk to me after an hour of getting only grunted responses. I lie staring at the ceiling, wondering how things got so messed up. The worst of it is that I know it’s my fault. I could have done the smart thing and given up my relationship with Luca. I would still be hurting and he would be too, but at least I would still have Sadra’s support and I would know I’d done the right thing. I wouldn’t be wondering if I’ll go to Caris’s shop for my next “boost” and find her gone.

Now Sadra and Luca are both pissed at me and, if Sadra is pissed enough, I might lose Caris and Bard and all the help they can give me. I turn over and try to think of something else, but my mind keeps circling back. It’s like a scab that I can’t resist picking. I tug and worry at it, peel back the layers bit by bit, revealing the wound underneath. The wound is small but deep, a single thought:

I might never go home.

I go to Caris two days later, half expecting to find her shop empty, but she’s there. She gives me my check-up and boost without any sign that something’s wrong. Sadra must not have said anything. I wish I could ask her, but I haven’t seen her since our fight. I had to hear from Feli and Kana that she took a two-week trial for a potential position in a wealthy merchant’s household on the other side of the City.

Things with Luca are almost back to normal, but not completely. There’s still the question of my “troubles” hanging between us. Neither of us has brought it up, but it’s there. It’s almost more of an issue for not talking about it. Every time I change the subject or he carefully avoids asking a question, it reminds us both that I’m keeping secrets. It’s frustrating, but I don’t know what I can do about it.

I stew over it all the way home from the theater district where Luca just treated me to a romantic evening that I couldn’t enjoy even a little bit between the weight of my secret and the ache of missing-slash-being-annoyed-at Sadra. After an almost unbearably awkward goodbye, I mount the Temple steps alone. He didn’t even kiss me. I kick the last step in irritation, wondering if it’s even worth trying anymore. Maybe it was stupid to think that I could have both Luca and my dream of going home.

“Sadra’s home,” Kana tells me as I enter the Temple. “Are you going to make up now?”

“Does everyone know our business?” I ask exasperatedly.

“You haven’t exactly been subtle about it,” Kana snorts. “You’ve both been growling and snapping at people for weeks. And let me tell you, it’s getting very old.”

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I know I haven’t been that pleasant to be around. If it helps any, I’m tired of it, too.”

“Well, work it out,” Kana tells me firmly. “You’ll end up killing each other, otherwise. Unless one of the rest of us does it first.”

I find Sadra sitting on my bed, idly strumming a guitar-like instrument. I stop in the doorway and we stare at each other. I, for one, am at a complete loss. I have no idea what to say. But after several long moments of silence, I speak.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” I say.

“I should have come sooner,” she says at the same time.

We laugh and I move to sit next to her.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“Forgiven,” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “But I’ve been thinking about what you said...how I treat you like a child.”

“Sadra, I didn’t mean it. I was just angry--”

“You were right,” Sadra says. “I do treat you like a child. But it’s because you are a child in a lot of ways. You weren’t born here. You didn’t know the language, you’d never been in the City on your own until a few months ago. And there’s still so much you don’t know about the world--this world. It’s not because I think you’re stupid or incompetent or anything like that.”

“I know,” I say. “You’ve only ever wanted to help.”

“I’m glad you recognize that,” Sadra says with a lopsided smile. “Bear it in mind for a few more minutes, alright? I’ve been thinking about you and Luca, too.”

“Sadra, I really don’t want to talk about that again,” I sigh.

“Just listen to what I have to say and promise to think about it,” Sadra says firmly. “And then we never have to talk about it again if you don’t want to.”

“Alright,” I say warily. “Go on.”

“I don’t mean to belittle your feelings for Luca,” Sadra begins. “But you’re young. More importantly, this is your first time getting involved with someone. I’m not saying your feelings aren’t real or that he doesn’t care about you, but you’ve never done this before. It can be completely overwhelming, especially at your age. It can interfere with your judgment.”

“At my age,” I scoff. “You’re only two years older than I am.”

“Maybe, but I started earlier and have a lot more experience than you do,” Sadra says calmly. “I’ve had my heart broken enough times--and gotten in enough trouble on account of a boy--to know that what I’m saying is true. What I don’t know is what it’s like to be you. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you, what it’s like now. Just--think about what I said. If you really think staying with Luca is a good idea, that it will make the next few months better for you, I’ll say no more about it. But please think about it carefully and at least acknowledge that there is some danger.”

“Is that it?” I ask after a minute of silence.

“That’s it,” Sadra says. “Promise you’ll think about it?”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, thinking privately that I probably won’t, despite my annoyance with Luca. I know I won’t give him up, but I’m too glad to have smoothed things over with Sadra to argue the point.

Sadra stays late, entertaining all the girls with stories of the City’s elite. Everyone seems relieved to have things back to normal. I know I am. I go to bed thinking that I’ll finally be able to fall asleep with a clear head. Instead I find myself thinking guiltily about what Sadra said.

There is a small chance that someone could find out about me. It’s a tiny, tiny chance. But if it does happen, we will all be absolutely screwed. It somehow seems more serious now that Sadra is willingly trusting me to make the call. It was a lot easier to blow it all off when it felt like I was being attacked.

I spend the whole night rolling around in bed, first trying to get comfortable and then trying to think of something else and, when neither works, just writhing in mental torment. I don’t sleep at all and am wide awake when sunlight starts creeping through the window. It’s a beautiful sight, but it makes me feel worse. Even though I can’t sleep, the last thing I want to do is drag myself out of bed to start the day.

I do it anyway, though. I’m too grateful to have a job and a roof over my head to risk messing that up. My morning exercises provide some relief. It’s the only time I can ever let my mind go completely blank. I go to my first class feeling refreshed and calm, but the feeling dissipates pretty quickly. By lunch, I’m irritable and scratchy. By dinner, people are treating me like a rabid cat, walking on eggshells and giving me a wide berth in the hallways. I must look really messed up, because it can’t be anything I said. I haven’t said much of anything.

“Been thinking, have you?” Sadra says cheerfully when I meet her at the baths. I glare at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Have you decided?”

“Yes,” I sigh. “I’m sorry. It probably is stupid to keep seeing him, but I can’t stop. Right or wrong, I just know I won’t be able to.”

“Well, I suppose there’s something to be said for recognizing your own limitations,” Sadra says with a slight smile. “So...that’s settled, then.”

“Mostly,” I say. “But...I was hoping you would help me with something. About Luca?”

“I said I’d accept your decision,” Sadra says, squeezing my hand. “Pretend all that never happened. I’ll help with whatever you need.”

I smile at her gratefully and squeeze back. “He’s getting frustrated about my keeping secrets. He’s saying...well, actually, it’s almost exactly what you said. That if he doesn’t know what’s going on, he can’t know if he’s doing something dangerous. Obviously, I can’t tell him everything, but do you think maybe I should tell him something more?”

“I think you’re going to have to,” Sadra says. “I can’t believe he’s lasted even this long without throwing a fit.”

“How much is safe to tell?” I wonder. “I’ve already told him that I’m in trouble, but it isn’t enough.”

“I’m sure,” Sadra agrees. “It must seem like such a tease. I bet it’s driving him crazy.”

“I think it is,” I say, giggling in spite of myself. “There’s a vein in his forehead that pops out whenever it comes up.”

“Poor Luca!” Sadra laughs. “Well, we’ll think of something.”

In the end, I tell him--essentially--the simple truth: that there are some bad people who want me dead or captured because I know something they don’t want me to know. I don’t tell him who the people are or what it is I know, but I make sure he understands that anyone could be a potential threat. I make him promise not to draw any attention to me or my situation.

And...that’s all I can do. I just hope it’s enough.