Aaru was as still as a held breath, or the wind before a storm. “Have you ever been to Idris?” He spoke softly, carefully, but no one could ignore him. Not with the fierce look on his face, and the way his fingers curled toward fists.

“Of course not.” Thoman shrugged, as if to ask how travel to Idris would even have been possible. “I hear the weather there was horrible before, and it’s worse now.” He chuckled, and the others joined in, ugly titters and covered mouths, like they all understood it was inappropriate to laugh, but they couldn’t help themselves.

And then.

It happened so fast.

Aaru pushed Thoman.

Not hard, but the businessman staggered back a couple of steps. Others caught him. And then Balmer shoved Aaru.

It could have stopped there—Aaru didn’t act again—but by that time, Thoman was in front of Aaru, and he shoved Aaru, too. “What’s wrong with you?” The businessman’s shout drew eyes. Around us, the dancing stopped and even the musicians seemed uncertain whether to continue playing. “We were having a laugh.”

“At the expense of the dead.” Aaru’s fists shook, but he didn’t move as several things happened at once:

1. A pair of guards rushed toward us.
2. Thoman and Balmer lurched forward to push Aaru.
3. Seventy-three noorestones flared white hot, gleaming off the mirrors so brightly that people covered their eyes and cried out in alarm.

The men stopped short of Aaru, their hands over their faces. I grabbed Aaru’s arm, dragged him toward me—out of the way of the men—and let all the noorestones go back to normal.

By the time the light eased and everyone was blinking their vision clear, the guards had arrived. Though they, too, seemed disoriented by the sudden glare, they listened while the group of Daminan men and women explained it had all been a misunderstanding.

“Are you all right?” I asked Aaru.

He nodded. “Fine. Not hurt.” And then, against my hand, ::Sorry. That was stupid.::

I squeezed his hand as the guards came toward us—a man and a small woman, both with tight grips on their daggers.

“Tell us what happened,” said the female guard.

“Misunderstanding.” Aaru’s voice was monotone. “We disagreed and overreacted.”

The guard raised an eyebrow, glanced at me, but didn’t give me time to offer my version of events. I wasn’t the Hopebearer here; no one cared what I thought. “All right,” she said. “We’ll call it a disagreement for now. But if I see the two of you causing disagreements again, you’ll both spend the night in jail.”

Aaru swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m very sorry.”

She scoffed, delivered the same warning to Thoman and Balmer, and then walked back to her station on the edge of the room. Her eyes—and those of her partner—never left us.

As the music began again, and people shifted like they might resume dancing, Thoman, Balmer, and the others came toward Aaru and me. “Sorry if you were upset,” Thoman said, like it wasn’t obvious that Aaru was upset. “We were just joking around. People do that when something horrible happens.”