“Where Ana leads, I follow.” Sam managed a half smile.
“I’m going with Ana and Sam, too.” There was a deeper meaning in Stef’s words. She was the only one other than Sam and me who knew what Janan was, and what he did to newsouls. The time she’d spent inside the temple had opened her mind, shattering the memory magic that had kept her ignorant for five thousand years.
“I—I’ll go, too.” Sarit met my gaze. “I’m not completely sure what’s going on, but I want to be part of this.”
“Thank you.” Maybe it shouldn’t have relieved me to know Sarit and Stef were coming on what would no doubt be a dangerous mission, but it did. Stef was Sam’s best friend, and Sarit was mine. They would help. They would make the journey more bearable.
“I’ll go along, too.” Whit looked at his hands. “Maybe an archivist will be useful.”
“You will.” If I managed to get the temple books again—and I had to try before I left—Whit might be able to help translate.
“I . . .” Orrin dithered, looking between Geral and Whit.
“You’ll go with Geral,” Whit said. “And Ariana. They need you.”
Orrin nodded.
“I’m going to stay,” Armande said. “Someone needs to stay here and keep an eye on Deborl.”
Stef nodded, but from the edge of my sight, I caught Sam looking down. Armande was his father in this life, and they were close friends as well. He’d lost Councilor Sine, and now he was losing Armande.
“I’m sorry.” Armande didn’t look at Sam or meet anyone’s eyes. “It sounds cowardly that I don’t want to go, but—”
“It’s not cowardly,” I said. “It’s brave. It’s going to be dangerous here. You’ll have to hide. There will be constant earthquakes. You won’t even be able to stay at home or open your pastry stall, because Deborl knows we’re friends.”
Armande nodded. “I understand.”
“Then it’s settled,” Stef said. “Everyone but Armande leaves.”
“What about Emil?” Whit asked. “He should come, too.”
Emil the Soul Teller wasn’t in the library.
Stef shook her head. “No one else. We don’t know who might be working with Deborl.”
“Emil wouldn’t. And neither would Darce. There are lots of people we should take.” Whit stood and faced Stef. “We can’t leave them behind.”
“I agree with Whit,” Orrin said.
“Of course you do.” Stef rolled her eyes. “No, we’ve taken a chance on people before. Anyone remember what Wend did after Ana invited him to our meeting about newsoul rights? He told Deborl about our plans. Together they killed two pregnant women, caused another to miscarry, and almost killed two more. Including Geral.”
Lidea, formerly Wend’s partner, dropped her head like his actions were somehow her fault.
“Stef’s right,” Sam said. “We can’t trust anyone else. We’ll all be leaving behind people we care about, but the risks are too high. If Deborl stops us from leaving, that’s the end of it.”
“Security over friendship?” Orrin asked. “Is that it?”
A few other people spoke up, arguing Stef’s fears or Whit’s anger. Their voices crowded the library, crescendoing into shouts as they struggled to make their opinions heard.
I surged to my feet. “Stop!”
The room went quiet.
“I agree with Stef and Sam. We’ve already seen what happens when we’re betrayed, and I won’t risk the newsouls’ safety. I can’t.”
Sam gave me a small nod, and Whit and Orrin slumped in their seats. “When did you lose faith in people, Ana?” Whit asked.
It was amazing he ever thought I’d had any, considering all I’d been through with Li and everyone who’d fought my entrance into Heart. People kept doing things to reinforce my aversion to trusting them.
“I have faith in you,” I said to Whit. “And Orrin. And Sam and Stef and Sarit and everyone else in this room. But I have to consider what’s best for the newsouls. If we don’t protect them, no one will. Perhaps other friendly people, like Emil and Darce, will announce themselves after we’ve gone. Armande can send them after us, or they can stay here and try to form some kind of resistance. But the newsouls need to leave now, while there’s still a chance they can survive the eruption.”
Orrin glanced at Geral, and their baby in her arms. No one else said anything.
“We’ll work out the logistics,” I said, as though the argument had never happened. “I’ll let you know when to be ready. Pack what you can, but do it quickly and secretly. We’ll all leave at the same time. Deborl doesn’t want me to leave Heart.” He’d campaigned hard for my exile, but now it seemed he preferred I were dead. “I doubt he’ll be happy with any of you leaving, either.”