Wonda paled. “With you … I mean …”

“Out with it, Wonda,” Leesha snapped.

“In a family way,” Wonda said at last.

Leesha sighed. “Who told you?”

Wonda looked at the carriage floor. “Mistress Jizell. Said you needed extra looking after, and were too stubborn to admit it.”

Leesha puckered her lips. “She did, did she?”

“Only trying to look out for you and the little one,” Wonda said. “Din’t know what it was, but I seen how sick you been since we left the south. It’s the demon’s heir, ent it?”

“Wonda Cutter!” Leesha snapped, making the girl jump. “I don’t ever want to hear you call my child that again.”

“Din’t mean …”

Leesha crossed her arms. “You did.”

Wonda looked like she might be sick. “Mistress, I …”

“This once,” Leesha cut in when she hesitated, “I’ll let it pass. This once, for the love I bear you. But never again. When I want you or anyone else to know my business, I’ll tell you. In the meantime, I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of it.”

Wonda nodded, her giant woman’s body shrunk back like the teenage girl she was inside. “Ay, mistress.”

It was full dark by the time they returned to her cottage, but the yard was abustle with apprentices, Gatherers, and the mustering Warded Children. It was standing room only in the theater, where Vika was giving a lesson in warding Cloaks of Unsight. Leesha wanted every Gatherer and apprentice in the Hollow to have one before winter was out.

Vika was seated beside the speaker’s podium, drawing wards onto vellum in the lens chamber. The mirrors and lenses bounced the image onto a white screen as hundreds of women copied the marks into their warding books.

“Children are still gathering,” Wonda said, “and it’ll take Roni and the girls a while to set the weights and measures. Why not nap for a bit? I’ll come knock when we need you.”

Leesha looked at her. “No scolding’s going to keep you from mothering me now, is it?”

Wonda smiled helplessly. “Sorry, mistress. Ent like I can stop knowin’ something.”

Leesha regretted the harsh tone she had used on the girl. Wonda might only be sixteen, but she carried an adult’s responsibilities with a grace few of any age could match. Leesha feared nothing when Wonda was watching over her.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you, Wonda,” she said. “You’re only looking out for me, and I love you for it. You keep at it, even when I’m being …”

“Stubborn as a rock demon?” Wonda supplied.

Leesha laughed in spite of herself. “I’m straight to bed, Mum.”

The way to the cottage door was clear when Wonda moved off to meet the children. They looked at her in wonder, crossing fists over hearts as they gave a sharusahk student’s bow. Many of them were older than she was, but nevertheless looked to her as their leader.

Leesha quickened her pace, every step drawing her closer to a few stolen moments of peace. She would brew a tea to put her out, and have another ready to counter it when Wonda woke her. Dare she hope for four uninterrupted hours?

“Leesha,” a voice came from behind her, “glad I caught you.”

Leesha turned, putting a smile on her face that was indistinguishable from the real thing. It was Jizell, the last person in Thesa she wanted to see right now. A visit from Elona would have been preferable.

“Why aren’t you in Vika’s class?” Leesha said.

“Time was, Vika was my student, not the other way around.” Jizell waved her hand. “Let the girls learn warding. I’m too old to put my apprentice apron back on.”

“That’s enough of that,” Leesha snapped.

Jizell started. “Eh?”

“Did you not hear my speech?” Leesha pressed. “Or did you think you could ignore it because I was once your apprentice, too?”

Jizell’s face hardened. “You’ve got stones to say that, girl, after all I’ve done for you. Been working my fingers to the bone since we came to the Hollow when I could’ve headed back to Angiers a moon ago.”

“You have,” Leesha agreed. “So much that the other women look to you when I’m not around. And that is why you need to set a better example, for everyone’s sake. If you ignore me and skip warding class, what’s to stop every Gatherer above fifty from doing it?”

“Not everyone needs to learn warding, Leesha,” Jizell snapped. “You’re asking too much of these women too quick. Piling books and rules on them without even checking to see if they have letters.”

“No,” Leesha said. “You’re asking too little. I nearly died on the road from Angiers because I couldn’t ward so much as a circle of protection. I won’t see that happen to any Gatherer again, if I can help it. Every woman’s life is worth a few hours’ study.”

“Won’t we all soon have Warded Children to protect us?” Jizell asked. “The gossips say that’s your master plan. A warded bodyguard for every Gatherer.”

Leesha wanted to tear her hair. “Night, it’s just a ripping class! Stop undermining me and go!”

Jizell put her hands on her hips. “Undermining? How in the Core have I been undermining?”

“You argue requests that will save lives!” Leesha said. “You ignore rules I set. You act like I’m still your apprentice. Night, you even call me ‘girl’ in front of the other Gatherers!”

Jizell looked surprised. “You know I don’t mean anything by that …”

“I do,” Leesha said. “But the others don’t. It needs to stop.”

Jizell gave a mocking curtsy, hurt clear in her voice. “Anything else you need to get off your paps, mistress?”

Leesha wondered if things would ever be the same between them after this, but she had learned no good came from running away from problems. “You told Wonda I was pregnant.”

Jizell only took a moment to answer, but the desperate search for a lie flashed across her aura so brightly Leesha would have seen it with her eyes closed. “Figured she must already know—”

“Demonshit,” Leesha hissed. “You’re not some fool gossip, letting out scandals by accident. You told her because you wanted her mothering me.”

“Ay, what if I did?” Jizell put fists on her hips. Leesha might be an adult now, but the woman still loomed over her. “You trust the girl with your life, but not your babe’s? You’re pushing all of us hard, Leesha, but yourself most of all. You’re a woman grown, ay, and can make that choice for yourself, but you’re making choices for two, and neither Wonda nor I is going to let you forget that. Keep arguing and I’ll tell Darsy, as well.”

Leesha’s face heated. She loved Darsy like a sister, but the woman kept a Canon in the apron pocket over her heart. She wouldn’t even brew pomm tea for women. This … Leesha had no reason to think Darsy or many of the other Gatherers would stand by her if it was known she was carrying any child out of wedlock, much less Ahmann Jardir’s.

And with that thought, Jizell started drifting away, blackness closing on Leesha’s vision. She felt herself falling, and the jolt as Jizell caught her, but they were distant things.