I suppressed the desire to jab him in his solar plexus and knock some of his ego out of him.

When Leif turned on his heel and left, I asked Esau, “Is there anyone else going to the Citadel in the next couple weeks?”

He shook his head. “It’s a long journey. Many days’ walk. And most Zaltanas prefer the jungle.”

“What about Bavol Cacao? Isn’t he our Councilman at the Citadel? Doesn’t he have to be there?” Irys had explained that the Council consisted of the four Master Magicians plus a representative from each of the eleven clans. Together they ruled the southern lands.

“No. The Council disbands during the hot season.”

“Oh.” It was hard to believe they were just starting their hot season. Coming from Ixia during its cold season, the whole southern territory felt as if it were already scorching.

“Can you give me directions?” I asked.

“Yelena, you’ll be safer with Leif. Come now, let’s pack. Two hours isn’t…” Esau stopped, and shot me a glance. “Is that backpack all you have?”

“And my bow.”

“Then you need some provisions.” Esau began to search his room.

“I don’t—” My words were cut short as he handed me a book. It was white like his sketchbook, but inside were drawings of plants and trees with written descriptions beneath.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“A field guide. I planned to reteach you how to survive in the jungle, but this will have to do for now.”

I found a page with an illustration of an oval-shaped leaf. The instructions below the picture explained that boiling the Tilipi Leaf in water would make a draught that would reduce a fever.

Next, Esau gave me a set of small bowls and some bizarre-looking utensils. “That guide is of little use without the proper equipment. Now let’s find your mother.” He paused and sighed. “She is not going to be happy.”

He was right. We found her working at her distillery and fussing at Leif.

“It’s not my fault,” Leif said. “If you want her to stay so badly, why don’t you take her to the Citadel? Oh, that’s right—you haven’t set your precious little feet on the jungle floor in fourteen years.”

Perl spun on Leif with a bottle of perfume clenched in her hand poised to throw. He stepped back. When she spotted Esau and me standing in the doorway, she went back to filling the bottle.

“Tell that girl I’ll be at the bottom of the Palm ladder in two hours,” Leif said to Esau. “If she’s not there, I’m leaving without her.”

When Leif left the room, the silence continued to thicken.

“You’ll need some food,” my father said, retreating into the kitchen.

Bottles clinking, my mother approached. “Here,” she said. “Two bottles of Apple Berry for Irys, and a bottle of Lavender for you.”

“Lavender?”

“You loved it when you were five, so I took a chance. We can experiment later and find something else if you’d like.”

I opened the cap and sniffed. Again, I experienced no memories of being five, but the scent made me remember the time I had hidden under a table in Valek’s office. I had been searching for the recipe to the antidote for Butterfly’s Dust, the so-called poison in my body that had been Valek’s way to keep me from escaping. Thinking I had needed a daily dose of the antidote to stay alive, I had been intent on finding the cure. Valek had come back early, and discovered me because I had used lavender scented soap.

I still favored the scent. “This is perfect,” I said to Perl. “Thank you.”

Unexpected fear flared in Perl’s eyes. She clamped her lips and clasped her hands. Taking a deep breath, she declared, “I’m coming with you. Esau, where’s my pack?” she asked him as he returned with an armload of food.

“Upstairs in our room,” he said.

She rushed past him. If he was surprised by her sudden decision, it didn’t show in his expression. I added the bread and fruit he had brought to my pack, and I wrapped the perfume bottles in my cloak. During the journey south, my cloak had been too hot to wear, but it had made a soft place to sleep when we had camped along the road.

“The food will only last so long, and you’ll probably need more clothes while you’re at the Citadel,” Esau said. “Do you have any money?”

I fumbled in my pack. Needing money for food and clothes still seemed odd to me. In the north, we had been provided with all of our basic necessities. I pulled out the bag of Ixian gold coins that Valek had given to me before we parted.

Showing one to Esau, I asked, “Will these work?”

“Put that away.” He closed my hand around the coin. “Don’t let anyone see that you have them. When you get to the Citadel, ask Irys to exchange them for Sitian money.”

“Why?”

“You might be mistaken for a northerner.”

“But I am—”

“ You are not. Most southerners are suspicious of people from Ixia, even the political refugees. You are a Zaltana. Always remember that.”

A Zaltana. I worked the name around my mind, wondering if just saying the name would make me one. Somehow I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Esau went over to a desk and rummaged through the drawers. I put away Valek’s money. With my father’s supplies and food, my pack bulged. I made an attempt to organize the contents. Would I need my rope and grapple? Or my northern uniform? While I hoped that I wouldn’t have cause to use them, I couldn’t bring myself to part with them just yet.