muttering under her breath, Rae rolled her sleeves up so they wouldn’t drag in the water. Jesse froze, staring. She had moved her right sleeve up too far, uncovering her shoulder. The bottom of her Youth Guard tattoo—an A inside a broken circle—showed from underneath the hem.
Apparently Rae had noticed too, because she quickly jerked the sleeve down, covering the tattoo.
Jesse’s eyes darted to Telemachus, who was poking through the sack. He came out with a potato clenched in his fist. “Rotten,” he explained, tossing it into the fire with a smirk.
The burnt potato smell that filled the kitchen was so bad Jesse was glad there was very little food in his stomach. It probably would have all come up anyway.
Telemachus sniffed the air and grinned widely. “Smells like dinner to me.”
He didn’t see the tatoo, Jesse told himself. He wouldn’t even know what it was if he did. He’s too stupid to recognize his own name tattooed onto someone’s arm.
In spite of his relief, Jesse couldn’t keep from gagging at the smell of the burning potato. Telemachus glanced over at him. His eyes narrowed. “Something wrong?” he demanded.
He thinks I was making the face at him. “No,” Jesse tried to protest. “I just—”
“Careful,” Telemachus warned, squinting at him. “You watch yerself, cripple.”
Jesse felt his face turning red, and he gripped his staff until his knuckles were white, wanting to strike Telemachus across the forehead with it.
“Be warned,” Parvel said, turning to face Telemachus, “you threaten him, you threaten all of us. We stand together.”
For a moment, the two faced each other, neither looking away.
“I’ll remember that,” Telemachus said at last. “Just have to get you when you’re on your own.”
That threat echoed in Jesse’s head the rest of the night, keeping him from enjoying his meal. As it turned out, the only food the house of refuge seemed to keep on hand was potatoes, which explained why they had peeled so many. Telemachus had made them into three different dishes, but the dozen or so orphans still grumbled as they ate.
They had been glad to see the newcomers though. Jesse had laughed quietly as three little girls crowded around Rae, asking her questions and running their hands through her silky black hair. She looked about ready to throw her bowl of potato soup at them.
As soon as the meal was over, she bolted up the stairs to their room. Jesse, Silas, and Parvel followed. “I don’t like this place,” she said, shutting the door behind them. “Or those priests, and especially not that ruffian in the kitchen. We need to leave as soon as possible.”
“We will,” Silas said, “as soon as we know what we’re doing next.”
“And how long will that be?” Rae demanded. “I say we strike out on our own and do something!”
“Yes, very good,” Silas said sarcastically, staring her down. “And what exactly would that be?”
Jesse could tell from the brief confused look on her face that Rae hadn’t thought of it, but she blurted, “Form a raiding party. Take from the king whatever we can.”
“Like the Rebellion, I suppose?” Silas demanded, turning away from her.
“Listen,” Jesse said, stepping in between them. “Parvel was right—we stand together. Or we should. Right now, all we can do is argue with each other. What we need is a good night’s sleep and time to get our thoughts together.”
“Hear, hear!” Parvel cheered, yawning loudly. “And with that, I suggest we retire for the night. I, for one, haven’t slept on a real mattress for days.”
Silas laughed and kicked one. “You won’t now either. This isn’t your father’s mansion, Parvel.” Sometimes Jesse forgot that Parvel had grown up as the son of a noble, a very different life than any of the others.
“It will do,” Parvel said. “It’s better than stone, anyway.”
Almost as soon as Rae left the room, Jesse fell asleep on the thin straw mattress. He dreamed, as usual, of his parents and of home.
That is, until he awoke to a loud shout. “Surrender in the name of King Selen!”
He blinked, making the blurry darkness come into focus. It was Harrod, holding a candle and looking stiff with fear.
No. That’s not where the voice had come from. Another figure stepped in from the hallway. It was a Patrol member, one with fiery red hair and an ugly scowl. Jesse had never seen him before.
“That’s them, all right,” the Patrol member said. He kicked Jesse in the side, then Silas and Parvel. “Get up, scum! I arrest you in the name of King Selen.”
Captain Demetri. Jesse was sure of it. He had followed them through the mountains and found them. But how? He thought we were dead.
Just then, Anton squeezed into the room, also holding a candle. He looked from Jesse to the Patrol member and back again; then turned to Harrod. “What is going on?” he asked, looking more confused than outraged.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” Harrod said. “There’s a problem with our guests.”
The Patrol member scoffed loudly. “A problem, he says. I should say so!” He turned to Harrod and roared practically in his face, “Didn’t you check their papers?”
Harrod’s face remained stiff. “No,” he said. “As a house of refuge, we…”
“They don’t have any,” the Patrol member snapped, cutting him off. “Their papers were revoked when they were thrown in prison for theft and murder. That was before the escape.”
Anton gasped sharply.
“It’s not true,” Jesse said, staring straight at him, willing him to believe them. Anton just moaned and backed away.
“I’ll take ’em off your hands quick enough,” the Patrol member said, grabbing Parvel first.
“By yourself?” Harrod pointed out. “They’re dangerous criminals!”
“I have help.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Now, march, in the name of King Selen!”
Jesse reached down to pick up his bag and walking stick. To his surprise, the Patrol member didn’t protest.
“No,” Anton said, shaking his bald head. “I don’t understand. This is a house of refuge. You can’t…”
“Yes,” the Patrol member said, towering over the priest with his hand on his sword. “We can.” Anton, eyes wide, bowed and retreated into the hallway.
The first thing Jesse saw when he stepped into the hallway was Rae, arms pinned behind her, held by a hulking form of a man.
It was Telemachus, his twisted grin glowing in the flickering candlelight. “I said I’d get you,” he said. He
