"Now just look here, what mysterious things I have in there for you today!"
Zana opened her tote bag and held it so that Boy could catch a glimpse of its contents. She no longer poured her gifts onto the ground: she wanted to give the human an incentive to come closer if he wanted to satisfy his curiosity.
It frustrated her not to know his actual name. 'Boy' was no more than a descriptor for a young male, but when used by apes for humans, it also had the connotation of 'servant', and this was something Zana wanted to avoid; she was sure that her ward was also aware of how the apes used that word, and she didn't want to give him the wrong impression about the kind of relationship she wanted to establish with him.
It wasn't the only thing that frustrated her. Zana jiggled the bag encouragingly when Boy did crane his neck, indicating his interest in today's toys, but the human couldn't be persuaded to move a single step closer. He glanced at her for the shortest of moments, then turned around and slowly walked away.
Zana stood motionless, her hand fisted into the canvas of the bag, torn between screaming frustration and tears of despair. This was how it had been yesterday, and the day before that: Boy evaded her, and she doggedly followed him as he led her on a merry chase around the shelter grounds.
It was a conversation of sorts. By his actions, Boy kept telling her that he didn't trust her, didn't want her around, but liked the things she brought him. Zana kept telling him that she was interested in him, wouldn't accept no for an answer, and wasn't about to give up.
He told her that he could keep this up longer than she, and Zana was beginning to believe him.
Today, though, wouldn't be the day she gave up. With a sigh, Zana followed Boy, who was about to vanish behind the goat stables, and hadn't looked back once since he'd turned away. If his past wanderings were any indication, they'd stick to the pastures and garden area of the shelter. The only thing she and the human seemed to have in common was an aversion to crossing into the community section, where Aska and her friends lorded over the human cubs and seniors.
Zana was sure that the girls were watching her futile attempts to connect with Boy, and were gossiping and laughing at her behind her back. The thought made her grind her teeth, and her fur rise in her back, and yes, maybe stubborn pride was the wrong motive to continue harassing that poor, unwilling human. But after her defeat at the toddlers' drey, she just couldn't give them another victory.
Besides, home was no longer preferable as a hiding place.
The sun was at its highest point in the sky, and although Boy thankfully stayed in the shadows of the trees as he walked towards the small field where the goats were grazing, the gold-flecked air was hot and suffocating. Not a single leaf moved; the only sound was the occasional chirping of insects.
At home, she could be sipping chilled lemonade, or even flee into the basement, where the earth and the thick walls kept the air cool enough to bring relief. But Galen, the fool, had decided to take on an apprentice, and hadn't understood her consternation at all.
"He's from the City!" Zana had exclaimed, throwing her hands up in disbelief at her fiancé's naivete. "Don't you think he hasn't heard of the criminal Galen who is wanted by Zaius himself? If he starts to suspect that you're not the doctor Kova you claim to be—"
"Well, he won't have to suspect anything if you keep shouting," Galen had dared to point out. "There's no reason he should suspect anything," he added quickly; something of her rage must've shown in her face. "And I can really use some help, dear! Besides, he owns a microscope!"
And that had been that; there was no arguing about an ape who offered to share the wondrous thing that had fascinated Galen when he had first seen it in Kira's laboratory. If Zana hadn't been mad with anger and worry, she would've conceded that one could be swayed against one's better judgement by some mechanical contraption or other...
But to add insult to injury, Galen had told her that it was custom that a doctor's apprentice-assistant lived in the same house as the doctor; it just made sense to have him nearby in case of an emergency.
And now her sanctuary had been invaded by a stranger; a stranger who could be exactly who he said he was, which was bad enough, or one of Zaius' spies.
Or one of Urko's.
I don't trust this Hamez, Zana thought fiercely, and I never will.
Ahead of her, Boy threw a glance over his shoulder to her, and Zana suddenly understood perfectly well how he felt about her.
They had reached the gardens now; the hot air was drenched with scents that Zana could only describe as 'green': unknown plants that later somehow found their way into Prila's kitchen were sweating out the water in their veins. Their leaves hung limp, unmoving.
Zana hovered in the shadow of the huge, heart-shaped leaves of plants winding up a trellis, watching helplessly as Boy ambled down the path between the beds that was baking in the sun. Humans did feel the heat; she had seen them rushed into Galen's practice more than once during this month, to be treated for sunstroke. The workers in the fields wore broad hats to protect their heads from the furor of the sun.
Boy didn't wear a hat, but he wouldn't spend atsehts in the glare; just enough time to shake off the ape, who loathed to leave the patch of shadow. The ape who couldn't sweat as efficiently as the human, and thus couldn't bear the heat as well.
Zana felt dizzy, hot in her fur, tired... and foolish. Why was she chasing a mute, wild human around the shelter day after day? A human who'd made it clear enough he wanted nothing to do with her? Just because he reminded her of Peet somehow?
Peet is gone. He left me, he went with Alan, his friend, who needed him more than I did...
Oh, but I needed you too, Peet! You and Alan. Where are you now? I need a friend...
She angrily wiped her hand over her eyes. She wouldn't cry here. Even hidden between the huge leaves, someone would know it, somehow, and the news would find their way back to Aska and her witches.
When she looked up, Boy was gone. The bag was heavy in her sweaty hand.
At home, Hamez would linger in the hallway, or the practice, or in his room — to be fair, when he wasn't assisting Galen (not that there had been a lot of traffic for the past three days), he spent all his time in his room, and only joined them for their meals, which was bad enough—
Zana sucked in a long breath. She didn't feel like going home. But she also didn't feel like chasing after Boy anymore. Not today, and probably, not tomorrow, either. Or any other day, really.
She dropped the bag and slowly wandered down the sunny path towards the well. If she was to spend the rest of the afternoon at the shelter, the garden wasn't the worst place to be. She didn't know the first thing about gardening, but even she could see that the plants urgently needed water.
The well sat in the shade of a big willow-oak tree, which was a relief, because hauling up the buckets was heavy work, and after the second bucket, Zana had to sit down for a moment and wait until her heart stopped trying to jump out of her chest. She scooped some water out of the bucket and splashed it into her face, reveling in its coolness. Then she poured the rest into her watering cans, and went back to watering the unknown plants.
When she returned, a filled bucket sat on the rim of the well.
Zana faltered only for the tiniest of moments, before she went up to the well and grabbed the bucket to refill her cans. She carefully avoided looking around to spot Boy. She simply went back to the plant beds to give the climbers another round of watering.
When she returned again, another bucket with well water was waiting for her.
On her next return, Boy was still hauling up the bucket, and she patiently waited some distance away until he had set it down and retreated to the other side of the clearing before she went to the well.
As late morning crept slowly towards noon, their work cycles slowly approached each other, until it was Boy who poured the water from the bucket into her cans. Zana would've loved to stop hauling the heavy cans up and down the garden paths; but she was too thrilled by Boy's sudden cooperation to give in to her exhaustion. Who knew what had prompted him to participate in her activity? She wanted this to last as long as possible. And she was an ape — she was strong. She could lug watering cans all day, if she had to—
She stumbled sideways into a bed of strongly-smelling plants with rough leaves, and suddenly found herself sitting among green stalks. The pungent, bitter scent of crushed leaves hit her nostrils with surreal intensity. "Oh," she said dumbly. Water from a toppled can soaked her robe, and the fur on her legs underneath.
Zana blinked. She wasn't sure what had just happened. For a frightening moment, she didn't know where she was.
Boy's face appeared in her field of vision, staring at her with an unreadable expression. Then he grabbed her by her upper arm, and dragged her to her feet. Zana put up no resistance as he led her down the path; she still felt dizzy and somehow unreal.
The next thing she noticed with sudden intensity was the rounded wall of the well pressing into her back. She was sitting in the shade of the tree, and Boy was scooping water out of the bucket, pouring it over her hands and naked feet. Her feet were naked; Boy must've pulled off her shoes. She didn't remember him doing so.
"Oh my," she mumbled. "I must've overheated... I didn't think of wearing a hat..." At least she had finally invested some sembles into a summer robe, even though the light robes still reminded her of the scandalous thing she had worn in Sapan to distract Rogan... but at least these robes weren't transparent...
Zorya's worried, baggy face appeared in front of her. "Mila, dear, are you alright? What were you doing out here at this time of the day?"
"Where's Boy?" Zana murmured groggily.
"Somewhere." Zorya waved her arm in the vague direction of the garden. "He suddenly turned up at my window and stared at me until I came out, and then set off for the garden. He's never interacted with me that intensely before."
"We were watering the plants..." Zana whispered, and closed her eyes. Her head was beginning to ache.
"At noon? You don't water plants in the midday heat, the water is too cold, especially when it comes up from the well. You'll shock the roots... ah, that's not important right now. Here." Zorya reached to the side and something wet and cool appeared on Zana's head.
"I'm sorry," she managed to say. "Now I destroyed your crop..."
"Ah, no, don't worry about that. The plants will be fine." Zorya rose from her haunches. "I'll call your husband to take you home. You need to lie down and cool your head. Boy!"
Zana closed her eyes and focused on the water that was running in small rivulets through her fur. The headache had become a steady pounding under the roof of her skull. "Pour a little water over the rags now and then, and keep an eye on her," Zorya was instructing Boy above her. "I'll be right back."
Although he made no sound, Zana could feel Boy crouching down beside her; she could even feel him staring at her. With effort, she opened her eyes to confirm her impression. Sure enough, the human was there, one arm around the bucket.
So that's what it took to get you to drop your defenses somewhat? A foolish ape who let the sun scorch her brain...
"Thank you for getting me out of the sun," she whispered. "And for getting help."
The human didn't react to her words, except for averting his gaze and contemplating the bucket. He was shy, Zana realized; his avoidance hadn't been an expression of contempt, even if it had felt like it.
"I'll probably have to stay in bed for a few days," she continued. "But I'll come back to water the plants, earlier in the morning, when the sun is not so high in the sky." She hesitated. "I would be very happy if someone would help me with the buckets and the cans then," she added. "They are really very heavy."
Predictably, the boy didn't react to her words, but Zana knew that he had understood her. She closed her eyes again. He'd think about it, and decide on his own, and he'd have at least a day or two to come to a decision. She hated the enforced break — now that they had made this incredible leap of progress, the danger was too great that he'd backslide into his old pattern of avoidance.
If only I'd worn my hat. Zana vowed not to forget it again. On the other hand, her breakdown had prompted Boy to come to her side; he had even touched her, when he had led her into the shade.
Boy poured a little water over her feet.
Maybe she was just a bit overheated. After a night's rest, and some glasses of chilled lemonade, she'd be on her feet again. She'd be back the very next day.
With a hat.
The hat was huge, with an impossibly wide brim, but it fit surprisingly well on her head, especially after she had added a scarf to it, tied under her chin, to keep it from slipping off at the lightest breeze. Together with her light robe and the apron, Zana thought she looked exactly like one of the Gorilla wives tending the gardens of their farms.
In other words, she looked ridiculous.
On the other hand, her head still felt a bit fuzzy, and she was more tired that she should have been after a good night's sleep — she wasn't sure if that was the effect of the hard physical work of the previous day, or of her heatstroke, but it was better not to take any chances.
Galen had been against her getting up and going to the shelter. He had advised at least another day of bed rest, arguing that since she had refused to see Egvon, the ape physician, he should have the last say about that as her 'acting physician'.
She had refused — after Boy approaching her on his own accord, she didn't dare losing that fragile thread of connection that had so unexpectedly formed. It needed to be carefully nurtured now, watered and fussed over just like these plants she was tending to.
Boy was nowhere to be seen, though. Maybe he was still asleep; the sun had barely risen when Zana had arrived at the shelter. The air was still fresh, with only a hint of the suffocating heat that would strangle everyone an atseht later, and the shelter grounds lay silent. The only sounds were the soft swishing of Zana's robe brushing past the huge, bristly leaves of an unknown vegetable, and the pattering of water from her can as it hit the soil beneath them.
The air was saturated with scents that Zana couldn't identify — the damp earth breathed swirls of fermenting, mushroom-y scents into her face that reminded her of traveling through woodland; a pungent aroma wafted from the serrated leaves of yet another unknown vegetable when she brushed against them, and from the the other side of the fence, an impossible-to-describe smell of ripening wildgrass combined with them into a strangely soothing mixture. It was easy to just mechanically walk back and forth between the well and the beds, raining water onto the thirsting plants, and to let one's thoughts meander through similarly well-trodden paths of memory and speculation.
Maybe she should start her own little garden in the backyard of their town house, Zana mused as she hauled up another bucket of water from the well; it was small enough not to need too much attention, and it would be nice to sit outside on a warm summer evening, sipping some lemonade and enjoying the scents of the flowers. She'd cultivate flowers, not vegetables — they weren't farmers, after all. The flowers would make a nice table decoration, too. Right now, only Prila used the backyard, to hang up the laundry.
The thoughts about the house made her remember their new house-guest. She still had grave doubts about Hamez, but Galen had accepted him as his assistant, so the matter was settled now. He had decided without asking her, and that thought sent a stab of annoyance through her serenity, making her clench her teeth. He should have asked her — they were in this mess together, after all; if he wanted to endanger himself like this, fine, but he had no right to endanger her, too!
But they hadn't been really talking a lot with each other lately. Galen had taken to life as Chubla's veterinarian like a monkey playing in a tree, while she had... been curled up in her room, grieving her losses.
It had been Zana's idea to sleep in separate rooms. She had justified the suggestion with the demands of Galen's new profession — he had to get up in the middle of the night if there was an emergency, disrupting her sleep also — but they had both known that it had been just a pretense, even if neither of them had acknowledged it openly. Fact was that she had wanted a hole to hide in, and then she had stayed in hiding for almost half a year.
Strange as it sounded, but she almost longed to be back on the road, even if it meant to be running from Urko forever. There had been no time to reflect on... on anything; they always had to be alert for signs of pursuit, and the challenges of earning money, figuring out where to go next, dealing with bad weather, bad apes, and bad food had kept all of them busy day and night. The challenges they all had to deal with together had brought a sense of community, of camaradery... and now that was all gone, and she felt... she felt lonely.
Of course, Alan and Peet had been there, too, and now they were gone, and that was probably also the reason she felt lonely. But Zana also fought the creeping suspicion that the humans had been the main thing she and Galen had had in common. Galen hadn't approached her in Cesarea because he'd been bedazzled by her scientific brilliance or her good looks; he had approached her because he had been curious about the 'very special humans' Zaius had given to her, and had wanted to use her as a way to get to them to satisfy that curiosity.
And then, well, then she had somehow ended up being on the run with them, and with him, and the question of how to deal with the quirks of genuinely untamed humans had been a major talking point between them. Of course there had been other things, too... and those had been very nice, too... but now that was all tangled up with the loss of their baby, and she hadn't really felt like doing it again, and...
... so now that the interesting humans were gone, and she was sleeping in her own room, there wasn't really much left she had to offer to Galen, was there?
Zana felt the strength rush from her arms, like water pouring out of her can. She had to sit down in the middle of the path, right between the trellises with climbers and the bed with the bristly giant-leaf plants.
I am nothing and I have nothing, and I should really be nicer to Galen, and be grateful he's putting up with me. He really has no reason to...
She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and drew a few big gulps of air to keep them inside. It was no use, no use dwelling on these morose thoughts; they only made her miserable — more miserable — and they changed nothing. She'd find a way to... she'd find something to occupy her time, make herself useful... maybe she could help Galen to drive away that cunning ape from the circus.
Snake-oil peddler was the term Peet had used, although he'd been joking about Galen's pretense of being a veterinarian during their stay in Pendan... ironic, wasn't it? And she couldn't even use it now, because no one but Peet and Alan would understand what she was talking about.
Zana climbed to her feet again; no use sitting in the dust feeling sorry for herself. She'd fill another can and water this bed, and then go home... but the thought of her room and her bed didn't appeal much today. It made her feel even more dejected — tired, and slightly ill.
She rounded the corner of the trellis bed, and came to an abrupt halt. Boy was kneeling on the path, digging at something in the neighbouring rows of feathery greens.
Zana felt a weight lift from her chest. Don't frighten him away, she admonished herself, and swallowed the excited "Boy! Where have you been?" that was on her lips.
Instead, she kept her voice low and soft. "I'm just going down this path to refill my watercan. I'll just pass by, alright?"
The human ignored her, but she knew he had heard and understood. He tensed when she moved past him, but didn't bolt. Zana cautiously started breathing again after she had put some more steps between herself and him, and forced herself not to look back over her shoulder to check if he was still there. Easy, easy, easy with this one. No hasty movements, no loud voices, no obvious or prolonged eye contact. Everything had to be concealed, muted, implied.
The boy tensed again when she passed him by on her way back, and it occurred to her that their encounter demanded just as much self-control from him as it did from her. It meant he was fighting his instincts in order to be able to be near her... it meant he wanted to be near her. Her heart began to hammer at that realization.
Maybe I can still do it. Maybe I still have it. She couldn't define what 'it' was — the ability to enchant humans? But it made her feel a bit better about herself.
She couldn't resist addressing him after she had emptied her can. All the beds had been watered at least once, and her arms were aching too much to lift even one more can. She decided to join Boy in whatever he was doing, even if it was nonsensical; at least they'd be doing something together, and that would deepen the bond that was developing between them.
She crouched down a few yards away from him, squinting at the greenery before her. "What are you doing there, actually? You seem to know a lot more about gardening than I do." At least he didn't seem to rip out the vegetables; he was picking at tiny seedlings between the plants. Weeding? Zana was vaguely aware that this was a thing gardeners had to do.
Boy slid her a sideways glance, but didn't react otherwise; he just kept doing what he was doing, and after a few more moments of observing him, Zana began to pull at the tiny seedlings that looked like the ones the human was removing from the bed. Their leaves were shaped differently from the feathery leaves of the stuff that was supposed to grow in this bed: round, with an unbroken edge.
After a while, Zana concluded that everything that didn't have bright-green, feathery leaves was a weed and needed to be removed. No matter if it had round, oval, or fingered leaves, smooth or serrated edges, or tiny bristles—
"Ouch!" Zana jerked her hand back from the bristly thing and sucked her burning fingertips. Then she remembered that she had just dug in the soil with those fingers and pulled them out of her mouth just as quickly. She spit out for good measure... and caught Boy from the corner of her eyes, smirking to himself.
She felt a smile pull at the corners of her mouth in response, but didn't comment. Instead, she just rubbed her fingers on her robe to dispel the tingling sensation in them, and muttered "Stupid plant!"
Boy's smirk widened to an open grin, and now it was Zana's turn to smirk. If he'd been Peet, he'd have started teasing her by now, and wouldn't have stopped until meal time. Food in his mouth was the only thing that could shut up Peet for a while...
Young human males are the same everywhere, she thought to herself as she resumed her weeding — carefully avoiding the bristly stuff this time. There certainly was a trick to pull those weeds without burning your fingertips off, but she didn't know it, and she was content to let someone more competent take care of that.
The memory of feeding Peet gave her an idea. She stretched, moaning at the ache in her back, and muttered to herself — but loud enough for Boy to hear her — "I'm not made for field work... my back is creaking like an old treehouse. And I'm hungry... I need to eat something."
She stood, carefully not looking at Boy, and continued talking, ostensibly to herself. "And the sun is already so high in the sky, too. I'm feeling real hot under this hat. I think I'll take a rest under the tree by the well. It's where I've put my bag with food, too." She turned towards the tree at the end of the path, then stopped, pretending to consider.
"I've brought too much food, I think — fruits, and nuts, and candies from the circus... but there's no way I can eat it all. Gardening makes me more thirsty than hungry. Well, at least I brought enough lemonade. But I hope the food won't spoil in the heat. If only I had someone to help me eat it all..." With that, she began to amble down the path.
Boy didn't follow her, she noticed to her dismay when she sat down at the well; he stayed where he was, stubbornly pulling weeds, apparently not in the least inconvenienced by the sun burning on his head.
Stubborn like a mule. Zana contemplated the unusual color of his hair while she sipped her lemonade. She had only once seen a similar color, on that female resistance leader that Peet had been so smitten with; but the boy's color was lighter than hers had been.
She was glad he was safe here — Ramor would've paid a fortune for adding this color to his stable...
Zana shook her head to get rid of that memory. She hadn't forgotten about Alan's cubs, nor about the promise she had made to herself, but now wasn't the time to let herself be distracted. Before she went home today, she wanted to score a little victory.
Calling to the human directly carried the risk of chasing him away; on the other hand, Zana knew from her travels with Alan and Peet that light-colored humans were more vulnerable to the effects of the sun, and it seemed to her that Boy insisted on staying out in the full sun out of some misguided defiance. As long as he sought out a place in the shadows, she didn't care if he ran away from, or towards her.
Although she'd much prefer if he ran towards her.
"Boy!" she called out to him. "You need to get out of the sun, or you'll get a headache just like I did yesterday! I have lemonade and candied fruit, if you want to eat something, too."
The boy pretended not to hear her, but to Zana's relief, he got up after pulling some more weeds, and carried his full basket towards her.
He passed her by without sparing her a glance, and emptied the basket onto a heap of softly rotting weeds and... other things that Zana didn't care to identify, that was sitting at the far end of the clearing. He was demonstratively not following her summons, but just happened to need to come this way in order to add his weeds to the compost mounds.
Zana suppressed a smile, and bit into her candied apple. The crunch, and the sound of her chewing on the juicy fruit, were clearly audible in the silence of the clearing.
Boy shook out his empty basket some more.
Zana very carefully positioned another candied apple on the rim of the well. "Mothers, it's gotten late already. I need to go home now... too bad I'm too full to enjoy my second apple. Oh well, maybe someone else will want it. It's really tasty."
She stood, brushed off her robe, and rightened her straw hat, ignoring the tote bag lying at her feet. "But gardening is fun — even if I burned my fingers. And those plants do need the well water in this heat. I think I'll be back for watering them tomorrow morning." She turned towards the second path leading away from the clearing, the one that would take her back to the garden gate, and after that, to the main gate of the shelter.
When she reached the edge of the clearing, she couldn't resist looking back over her shoulder.
Boy was digging into her bag, stuffing food into his mouth.
With a smile, Zana pushed open the gate.
Zana woke early the next morning, something that hadn't happened since she'd slept in their wagon on their trip up north. The sun hadn't risen yet; the patch of sky she could see through her window from where she was lying on her bed was a dusty gray.
She closed her eyes again, trying to catch the remnants of the dream that had woken her. She had been in the shelter garden with Boy, offering him treats from her bag; but unlike yesterday, the human had come closer in her dream, close enough to take the fruit from her hand. The dream had been realistic enough to make him bolt immediately, but for a tiny moment, he'd been so close...
... she had seen the tiny freckles on his face, the gleam of sunlight in his hair. She had even felt the heat emanating from his skin. Strange that a dream could have such an intensity, such detail.
The exhilaration coursing through her veins had woken her up. She could still feel the tingle of excitement on her skin and in her chest. Maybe it had been a prescient dream. Maybe today, he would come close enough to take a gift directly from her hand. Maybe today would be the day.
Muted sounds from below announced that Galen had risen, too. Today would be a day where he'd make his rounds with his doctor's wagon, but she wasn't sure if he'd really drive out; almost all farmers had converted to Heron's & Zolon's Wonder Elixir, and Galen had become sullen and dejected, and all too enamoured with Hamez's microscope.
Zana sat up and threw the bed covers off. She'd give them something to chew on, something more worthwhile than a drop of pond water, or whatever they were putting on those microscope slides. She'd made a small purchase on her way home, following her idea to assist Galen in his fight to stay in his good graces. She hoped her little contribution would indeed be helpful. But maybe her good intentions alone would be sufficient.
Brushing her fur felt good, better than it had felt in a long time. To be fair, she had only done it perfunctorily, but today, it was different. She was bursting with energy.
Her energy made her plunk the bottle on the dining room table with a bit more force than intended, startling Galen, who had been reaching for his toast.
"You remember when I told you that I wouldn't buy that wonder juice?" Zana said. "I lied."
Galen stared at the bottle, then at her, his mouth hanging open a bit. "But why?" he finally managed to say. From his seat down the table, Hamez was craning his neck. Zana ignored him.
"Well, I remember you saying that you wanted to prove to Chief Voltis that these circus apes are con artists," she said nonchalantly, and reached for the tea pot. Galen jerked a little, as if to grab for it and pour her some tea like the gentleman he was supposed to be, but it was already too late.
"You need to start somewhere," Zana continued after she had filled her cup. "And this seemed to be the logical thing to examine. So I made a little detour yesterday after I'd left the shelter."
"That's brilliant, vetya," Hamez gushed. Zana ignored him.
Galen didn't, unfortunately. "You're right, it's brilliant. But then she's brilliant," he added, and Zana couldn't help but melt a little at his unabashed pride in her. She sipped at her tea to conceal her reaction.
Galen snatched up the bottle, turned it in his hands to read the label, scoffed a little at what he was reading, and handed it to Hamez. "Do you think we can determine anything about it with your microscope?"
Hamez clutched the bottle to his chest. "I'm certain of it, vetes! We can, at the very least, see if there are any impurities in it, and maybe, no, probably, very probably, determine what kinds of impurities there are!"
"Good." Galen nodded. "Very good. I'm sure Voltis will take action if we can prove that they sell bottled mud."
Hamez beamed. "I also own an assortment of substances that can determine whether—"
"A package for you, doctor."
Prila had appeared out of nowhere; she dropped a wooden box covered in a myriad of stamps in Galen's lap, and began to collect the emptied plates from the table.
Zana saw Galen blink, then freeze for the tiniest of moments as he read whatever was scribbled on the box.
Then he leaned across the table, offering her the box. "It's for you, dear."
Now it was her turn to blink. "For me?" She took the box, not wanting to force Galen to hover in this awkward position.
Galen fell back into his seat, his eyes a bit too wide and staring. "Yes, the, uh, rare seeds and the, uh, the garden calendar I ordered for you. Since you, you're now a gardener? At the shelter? And I, I wanted to surprise you." He gestured nervously at the box in her hand. "For your hobby."
Rare seeds. Galen had received another message from Dolan. Or from Melvin, who'd had the idea for that inane code name. Or from whoever either of these two had added to the widening circle of subscribers to The Book. Zana wasn't sure if Galen had maybe even contacted his parents via that channel, but in any case, it was nothing anyone else could ever get wind of; certainly not Prila or Hamez.
She put on her sunniest smile. "That's so thoughtful of you, dear." Please stop now, she tried to communicate with her eyes. Galen had the regrettable urge to start blabbering when he was nervous.
Unfortunately, he had already given away too many fascinating details for the curious listener at the end of the table. "Rare seeds?" Hamez pushed back his glasses that had slid down to the tip of his nose. "I heard of gardeners who try to cultivate opers outside the southern swamplands..."
"I have no idea what kinds of seeds they sent," Galen shrugged.
Zana tried to kick him under the table without giving away the movement with her upper body, but missed his shins completely.
"But I doubt it's something as exotic as opers. They'd have to have cultivated them there first to be able to send seeds, after all."
"Is this plant nursery specialized in only certain kinds of seeds?" Hamez inquired.
"Oh, all kinds of vegetables, as I've understood it," Galen said, blissfully ignoring the daggers Zana was staring at him.
"Well, depending on where they are located, their vegetables may not have a great probability of thriving here," Hamez cautioned. "The climate is rougher in this mountainous area, or so I've heard. Spring comes later, and is often too cold and wet for Southern plants."
And how had he caught on to the fact that the package had arrived from the South, Zana wondered, horrified.
"Oh." Galen deflated a bit. "I hadn't thought of that."
Or maybe Hamez had just guessed, and Galen's reaction had confirmed his guess. This thought didn't relieve Zana's horror in the slightest. She had to stop this conversation before Galen said something they'd both regret.
"Well, this is of no concern to either of you," she said brightly, and rose, forcing the men to rise with her. "Since I'll be taking care of this problem, while you will take care of the bigger problem." She nodded towards the bottle with Wonder Cure that stood forlorn on the table.
"Oh, yes." Galen snatched up the bottle, relief clearly written in his face. Well, at least he'd been aware of being interrogated by his cocky assistant, even if he'd been unable to tell him off. Zana felt her indignance rise another notch.
She turned to Hamez. "As for delicate Southern plants, I've found them surprisingly hardy; they can survive a lot more than they're given credit for. And anyway, I'm building a greenhouse at the shelter. That should give them a good headstart in spring."
A greenhouse? She had no idea where that thought had come from, nor did she know the first thing about greenhouses. But Mothers forbid she'd allow this upstart to suggest that she could fail at bringing these rare seeds to bloom.
Hamez eyes lit up. "A greenhouse! What a brilliant idea! If I can help in any way, any way at all—"
"Of course, thank you," Zana purred, oozing sweetness. "Right now, I have all the help that's available at the shelter, but if anything comes up, I'll let you know." The Forbidden Zones will become fertile again before I'll ask you for help. "But I think exposing those elixir peddlers is more important right now."
"Of, of course. Of course." Hamez bowed, a small, jerky twitch of his body, and fumbled with his glasses.
Zana turned away from him, her hands itching to slap his stupid face, and gave Galen a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you for dinner, dear." And keep your mouth shut, she silently added. He understood her unspoken message, she could see it in his worried eyes; but would he be able to follow through?
She felt uneasy leaving him alone with that weaselly assistant, but she had no good reason to linger — she had already announced that she was going to the shelter again today. Back in her room, donning her light robe, apron, and straw hat, Zana wondered what to do with the 'rare seeds' box. She didn't dare to leave it in her room, and after all the fuss Galen had made about it, it would've been strange if she wouldn't take the 'seeds' up to the garden; she was absolutely sure Hamez would check on that.
But leaving those scrolls at the shelter? Zana could feel her fur bristle with horror at that thought. Anyone could find them there, and read them, and...
She'd have to bring them back home with her tonight, hidden under her robe. She'd have to destroy the box somehow, while she was at the shelter. Burn it — but open fire on the shelter grounds, when everything around them was tinder-dry from the summer's heat?
Problems upon problems. And not even her own problems. She had planned an exciting day for herself, taming Boy, maybe even touching him for the first time. Now all of that had to take a backseat to Galen's stupid conspiracy game.
She set out for the shelter in a foul mood, the box — hidden under the sweets and toys in her bag — bumping against her leg with every step.