She might see that and wait to get him away from them before she hit him. That he was in for a beating he took for granted; every other adult that he’d met, except Niko, hit every kid he knew. The cause might be different—drink, rage, drugs, the kid was in the way—but the result was always the same. He waited for the cuff or the order to get out of there, now!

Neither came. After a moment or two, he risked a look at her.

She frowned still, now more puzzled than angry. Her eyes were on him, not her plants. One foot gently tapped on the flat earth of the path, as if she were thinking.

She worked barefoot.

Rosethorn’s eyes followed his. When she saw her own bare toes, she smiled crookedly.

“Do I send a messenger for both of you, now?” Lark called from the back door.

Rosethorn extended a dirty hand to him. “Come on out of there.”

“Not if you’re going to hit me,” he retorted. “I’m no daftie.”

She raised her free hand. “Mila strike me if I lie.”

His faith in gods was not strong, but Mila was her goddess, after all, the one she’d given up a normal life for. Just as he was about to stand, he saw the trick. “You’ll hang me in the well.”

Rosethorn sighed. That foot tapped again, impatient now. “No, I won’t. I water this garden with what’s in there—I’m not about to poison it.”

This made sense. Carefully Briar tried to rise. The plants tightened their hold on their new friend.

“Stop that, you!” Rosethorn muttered, waving her hand at the vines. “You know better. Behave!”

Tendrils released his arms and ankles, returning to the strings that guided them to the sun. When Briar was free, he stepped onto the path, cringing when the dedicate reached out and gripped his chin in a firm and dirty hold. This close, he saw that she was a hand’s length taller than his own five feet of height. About thirty, she had broad shoulders, long legs, and a square, firm jaw. Her auburn hair was trimmed close to her head on the sides, and parted neatly on the left. She’d said little the day before to him or to Daja, except to threaten them with regard to her garden. Now she searched his eyes for something; he wasn’t sure what.

At last she let him go and stalked toward the house. Reaching the well, she drew a bucket full of water. “Come on, boy,” she called, seeing that he hadn’t moved. “Let’s wash up.”

The large wooden table had been pulled out from the wall. Benches, their legs hinged so they could be folded and stored under the table, were set on its long sides, while stools were placed at both ends. Niko shared a bench with Daja and Sandry. It was clear that Lark and Rosethorn were expected to use the stools. In her eagerness to put the table between her and the Trader, Tris found that she now shared a bench with Briar. He returned her glare with one of his own. They scooted as far apart as they could.

Lark and Rosethorn crossed their wrists, laying their palms flat on their shoulders, and asked the gods to bless their meal. When they were done, the adults began to pass dishes of food around the table.

“I can’t wait till the vegetables start coming in,” said Rosethorn with a sigh. “Especially the tomatoes.”

“What are those?” Sandry asked.

“Vegetables,” Rosethorn said briskly, helping herself to bread and handing the plate to Briar. “Brought from the far side of the Endless Sea.” The boy grabbed three slices and shoved the plate toward Tris.

“Rosethorn’s the only gardener to grow them successfully on this side of the Endless so far,” Niko told Tris and Sandry.

“Dedicate Crane is trying to grow them in his greenhouse.” Rosethorn made greenhouse sound like midden. “So far he’s failing.” She smiled very sweetly.

“What’s a greenhouse?” asked Briar. He drizzled olive oil and aromatic vinegar over his bread. It was habit to soften bread first, after he had once lost a baby tooth on a crust. Here, where the bread was soft, oil and vinegar added flavor.

Rosethorn watched him. “A greenhouse is a building made all of glass—”

“All glass?” whispered Daja, brown eyes huge. “But that’s expensive!”

“And foolish. Crane thinks he can make fruits and vegetables grow out of season in his—and he can,” Rosethorn added hurriedly, when Lark glared at her. “They just don’t taste like much. And he can’t grow tomatoes at all.”

Briar looked down so no one could see the interest in his eyes. So Niko had been telling the truth, and they did grow plants inside a building here! He wondered how soon he might be able to slip away to see this marvel for himself.

Lark turned to Niko and asked, “How long are you with us this time?”

“At least through the winter.” He sipped a cup of milk. “His grace the Duke has asked me to look at the harbor lighthouses, and the Temple Council has a few chores for me. I’m to freshen the crystals in the seeing-place, for one. And there’s research I need to do in the libraries.” Looking at Tris, he said, “Once I start that, you might like to come along and let me introduce you to the librarians.”

Tris looked at her plate. On the trip from Capchen, he had told her about Winding Circle’s libraries, famed throughout the countries around the Pebbled Sea and beyond. The offer was very tempting. If the librarians knew her, they might steer her to the more interesting books.

“Niko, you are not a dedicate?” Daja asked. “I thought you must be sealed to this temple, since you come here all the time.”