“They’re here? And Nanaea?” I followed Dagan and Shiptu inside, and the smell of old wood, smoke, and the faintest scent of cinnamon hit me. It was home. It smelled a lot like home.

“Not yet, but they are on their way. They’ll be here before nightfall. Assata is here, sleeping in the other room with some arnica and hemp for the pain in that arm. She asked a band of the warrior maidens to go to Laraak to get Nanaea and the boys.”

She ushered us through the main living quarters, out the back door, and around a grove of tamarisk trees into a small, walled courtyard where a large washtub was filled to the brim with fresh water. Climbing flowers and thick green vines crawled overtop a lattice overhead, providing privacy and much-needed shade. A cake of Aleppo soap, linens, and clean tunics lay nearby on a set of matching chairs. A lounging pallet, covered in thick quilts, sat in the corner. She’d gone to a lot of trouble, despite her weakened state. “When Assata wakes, she’ll need that arm fixed, Kammani. She says she’ll be burying what’s left of her family and going back to Manzazu with Ummi to join the Koru. She’ll need to be whole to do it.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be more than happy to help her with whatever she needs.”

Her eyes were sadder than I’d seen them, but her chin remained resolute. She was a strong woman. She’d survive this pain, as she’d survived the dungeon. “All right. Then I’ll leave you two to get more presentable.” She smiled briefly, wrapped her arms around herself, and left the courtyard, closing the wooden gate behind her, her footsteps falling away until the door to the house slapped closed in the distance.

Dagan stood and contemplated the bath, turning bright eyes to me, the briefest flush rising to his cheeks. “You first. I’ll go draw more water.”

“No!” I shook my head. “You’ve been through a bigger trial. I’ll just go after you.”

“Stop it. I’m covered in gore. I won’t have you washing in that. Please, take my kindness.” He covered his heart with his big hand, his amber eyes bright but weary behind his thick lashes. Lashes that were impossibly dark and full.

Longing filled my belly. “All right.” I met his eyes. “I won’t be long.”

He stood, looking at me, biting his full, cracked lip. He put his hands on his hips, crossed his arms over his chest, then left them hanging at his sides. He cleared his throat, red creeping up his neck. He jerked his thumb behind us. Toward the house. “I’ll go get the buckets…um…while you bathe.” His face flushed even more, and he headed toward the gate.

But that wasn’t what I wanted at all. It wasn’t what my heart told me to do. I’d spent the last few years pushing him away, setting him aside. Not realizing how much goodness I had when he looked at me and whispered my name.