Orfeus foundered a little. “Yes, but …” He was very clearly wrong, but just as clearly he was entirely convinced. It was hard to argue down someone with convictions.

“I must add to the world somehow,” Faol said. He balled up the scraps, movements quick: it spoke to her of barely constrained fury. He stuffed them under his bike and swung onto it, glaring ahead, some wolf-headed avatar of death. “I’m a poor gardener.”

Orfeus set her teeth. Wrong, wrong, so clearly wrong, but she was the last person he’d believe. “There are better ways.”

He cast a glance at her and eased back in his seat a moment. “And yet,” he said, with a little wave at her.

Yet here she was.

Here she was, in the clear air under the sun, no closer to the moral high ground than he was. Orfeus swung off into the forest on one side, irritable, and as Faolan made an annoyed noise she rummaged around in the dirt and came back up clutching a small seedling plant. She wasn’t sure why she did it, just that it was nice down there. The Green wouldn’t begrudge her one small plant, not on top of the appalling choking smoking debt she owed already.

She tucked the seedling carefully into one groove of the bike, and swung up. They flew back up in silence.

Chapter Eleven

The people before us buried their magics, and their poisons. They gave us glorious stories and cursed us with their mistakes.

We know better now. No one can fix everything, but our job, your mother and I, is to try and leave the world better than we found it. Planting seeds for the trees you’ll sit under one day, that is a parent’s job.

Your job? You don’t owe us anything, ma chérie. Only to live. But I hope you’ll be happy.

- Basma of Hollyhock

Back at the base, Faol said, “Eat,” and Orfeus nodded shortly and sloped off to the mess. She was glad for a reason to be away from him.

Despite the size of the feasts, the chiller looked mostly to hold bulk ingredients, no ready-to-eat meals. But the cupboards yielded dried meat and dried fruits and a great multitude of oatcakes. Orfeus loaded some of each onto a plate and went and sat down, and then stared blankly at the unappetising pile.

Someone sat down opposite her, not too close, and Orfeus glanced up. “Stay hydrated, too,” Tai said, passing her a tankard. “Newbies sometimes forget.”

Orfeus tugged the jug over but didn’t do anything else with it. “I know how to take care of my body.”

He made a sympathetic noise. When she didn’t move, and without catching her eyes or making any big deal out of it, he poured a glass for her.