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lack of food. She sat in the hollow and stared at me. “Ash. This one time, I’ll let you hold me.”
    I laughed and curled my arms around her, pulling her tightly against my chest. I buried my face in her soft fur and knew now why Lark loved her so. When you needed her most, Peta found you and gave you hope.
    I lay back, still holding her. I fell asleep and she stayed with me, her warmth a steady presence that I didn’t know how desperately I’d craved.
    The morning light came soon after that and I woke to find myself alone.
    “Shit.” I ran a hand over my face. I had been dreaming, then; Peta hadn’t found me after all.
    There was the sound of claws scratching on stone and I turned my head. Peta stretched and yawned, in her housecat form—gray and white—her tail twitching at the tip. “I’m going to find us some food. Wait here.”
    She was gone in a flash, slipping between the bars of the cell. “You think I’m actually going somewhere?” I called after her, and I was sure I heard her laugh echo back to me. Saucy cat.
    I couldn’t help the grin , though. I wasn’t alone, and now with Peta, we would find a way out of here, we would go after Cassava, and make the world right again for Lark.
    Ten minutes later, Peta was back in her snow leopard form . . . a whole cooked chicken dangling from her mouth. My mouth filled with saliva at the sight of that much meat. I wobbled to the cell door and she waited for me to take the bird before she shifted down to her gray and white housecat shape once more.
    “Don’t stuff your guts or you’ll be puking it all back up,” she said.
    I ripped off a leg and put it on the floor for her. “I know that, Peta. I’m not a pup. I’ve been starved before.”
    Her ears perked up. “You have? When? How could you not have told me about that on our travels together?” I noted she made no mention of Lark. That was the reason we’d traveled together before, looking for her.
    I tore into the chicken, making myself go slowly when all I wanted to do was swallow it down in delicious, heavenly chunks of roasted goodness. Speaking around the mouthfuls helped me to keep my pace steady.
    “When I was first brought on as an Ender, my trainer thought we should understand what would happen if we were captured and tortured by another of the families.”
    Peta nodded slowly, which shouldn’t have surprise d me. She was a hell of a lot older than she looked. “I remember those days. I didn’t realize you were around then.”
    Around then was about two hundred years prior. Elementals aged rather well, and I was no exception. “I was young and determined, and I believed I could face anything and come out on top.”
    “You mean you were cocky,” she snorted.
    I smiled slowly. “That, too.”
    I took another bite of the chicken and chewed it slowly. “I was placed into an oubliette with a flask of water and a loaf of bread and told I wouldn’t know when I was going to be brought out. My trainer, Sedge, said he would ask me one question when the oubliette was opened. ‘What is the name of your trainer?’ I wasn’t to give the answer at all costs.”
    Peta watched me closely. “And what happened?”
    I shrugged and pushed the chicken away from me. I was still hungry, but if I ate any more I’d lose it all. I leaned back against the cot and licked my fingers. “I think it had been three or four days from my last drop of water before they opened the oubliette. Sedge stood in front of me, and asked me what my trainer ’ s name was.”
    “What did you tell him?”
    I grinned. “Asshole.”
    Peta flopped to her side laughing, kicking her feet out. I grinned at her. “He laughed, too, and promptly shut the oubliette on me.”
    That stopped her laughter. She sat up, a frown etched into her brow. “He didn’t let you out?”
    “No. Another day and he tried again. I gave the same answer. Went on for maybe four or five days. Then . . . I couldn’t answer anymore, or maybe more