“Nothing?”

Ysabel blinked, then blinked again. She studied Roran with her dark eyes, thoroughly uncertain whether to believe him or not. Did he not want to ask her questions? On one hand, he had nothing to gain if he asked her questions, even if she decided to answer them truthfully. He looked young and untested. She knew very little about the traditions of the Winter’s Children, but she knew enough to know that though they treated each others as brothers, there was a system that categorizes each of them into ranks. 

[i]"I will tell you that Andor is not safe. Nowhere the King touches is safe for you. Not Horngul, not Mathlas to the west. Not even the slave bays to the south,"[/i] he said, and lowering his voice he added, [i]"Wherever the King has power, you're life is in danger. I can't leave this place, but you must go south. You must get to the Wastes and find the desert city."[/i]

“I have done nothing to offend your king. Why should I run away?” she said, frowning. Her business was in Horngul, as a hired sword. Elred, Symond, Cilia, and Gyles may be dead, but she still had a life waiting for her back in the capital, Bolavo. Adranus would be waiting for them, any of his men that he sent to the mountain pass. He would assume they all died if no one returned. She had no loyalty to Adranus except for the money that he steadily supplied his swords. The prospect of returning to Horngul was more appealing that a journey into the Wastes. Now that four of his closest friends were gone, only Adranus knew what she was really capable of doing. 

Ysabel was about to say something more, but Roran silenced her with his hand. He seemed anxious about something, perhaps more anxious than she was. He clearly suspected that she healed his brother the night before, not by any normal means, but by magic. What else did he know? Much to her frustration, Adranus would not explain anything to her, telling her that the less she knew the better, that she would be safer if she only use her special talent when he told her to do so.

[i]"I can't come with you, but I can show you the way,"[/i] he finally said as he got to his feet and headed to the door. [i]"I will walk you to the back gate, but i can't follow you out. I'm risking a lot letting you out, but I'm risking my life following you."[/i]

“Thank you,” was all she could say, but she did not move from her position on the bed. She needed to hear answers. Ysabel might not trust this man and the wisdom in his words, but she needed to hear why. “But please tell me why. Why do you say I should go into the Wastes? I need to hear why. All my life I have asked why, and nobody has given me answers.” Always just a caution not to use her talents unauthorized. She understood, even as a child, that she was different. When her parents learned about it, they sold her – for her safety and theirs, she was told. 

Here was somebody who might actually talk. Before answers were demanded of her, before she lied through her teeth, she would demand answers herself. Ysabel got off the bed and walked to the door barefooted. She ignored the cold and stood in front of him. Her hand found his, the one on the latch of the door, then pulled the door closed through his hand. Her voice was barely a whisper as she asked again, “Why do you say I should go to the Wastes?”