The wicked heroine, p.39
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       The Wicked Heroine, p.39

           Jasmine Giacomo


  The tent crew willingly accepted Rhona’s help setting up Geret’s tent, and when they gave her the mallet, she pounded the stakes into the soft earth with efficiency. Sanych brought Meena a plate of freshly cooked seafood and they stood a short distance away, watching her work.

  “Should we say something?” Sanych asked.

  “To whom?” Meena responded.

  “Well, to Geret. I think he’s being mean.”

  “You would, child.”

  “What do you mean, I would? Isn’t it obvious what he’s doing?” Sanych turned furrowed brows to Meena.

  “I daresay more things are obvious to me than to you, Sanych. If you had to craft the ruler of a nation in one week, how drastic a measure would you take?”

  “It’s not Geret’s job to fix what he thinks is wrong with other people.”

  “Isn’t it? Would you rather he were apathetic? That he let her keep her own beliefs, unchallenged? Her quest is to learn of us. Geret’s doing the best he can with what he has. In the end, it’s up to Rhona whether she gets anything out of this journey or goes home unaffected. I suspect that the women of the Sea Clans have a much harder time on their quests than the men do.”

  “I can see that,” Sanych replied, as she watched Rhona help one of the tent crew carry in Geret’s cot. “Her hair is fascinating. The only other person I’ve seen with two-tone hair is you.”

  “I wasn’t born this way though. She was, most likely,” Meena said, but Sanych saw a speculative look cross Meena’s features for a few seconds.

  By now, Sanych had given up on asking Meena about her strange and wonderful gifts. The Shanallar always told her to ask again later. “Does that mean something to you?” she asked instead.

  Meena turned her head to Sanych and confessed, “More than I want it to.”

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