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forced my sore muscles
to work and my aching elbows to bend.
    When I’d finished putting on the robe, Meir
washed my hair. It had been months since my hair had been
washed—ever since my yearly washing on Sho’ful . My dry and
itchy scalp nearly sang with relief as Meir scrubbed the layers of
dead skin away. He pulled a bottle of creamy soap from a hidden
pocket in his robes and poured a liberal amount onto my head,
working it in. The scent of roses filled my nostrils.
    I couldn’t help sighing. My bliss could not
be ignored.
    Meir chuckled.
    “You’re too good to me, Meir. I don’t
deserve this.”
    “Hmmm…” He seemed to be thinking, weighing
his answer. “I would disagree.”
    I ducked my head over the bin as he poured
hot water through my hair to wash out the soap. He was careful to
keep it out of my eyes. When he’d completely rinsed out my hair, he
dried it off with the towel, and brushed through my waist-length
hair before it had a chance to snarl.
    When he had finished, I placed my hand on
his arm. “Thank you.”
    He smiled and pulled me into a fatherly hug.
He muttered something I couldn’t quite make out.
    I pulled away from him and searched his
face. The way his eyes took me in with a crease of a smile at their
corners, I knew that, for some reason, this man was happy I had
come to him.
    I chewed on my lower lip and dropped my
gaze. There was no way my good fortune could last, and I was
terrified of the moment fate would see how lopsided my life had
become. I didn’t deserve Meir, but I didn’t ever want to lose
him.
    My savior.
    He left me then so he could clear away the
tub and soiled bandages. Being alone, I decided to brood. I hadn’t
forgotten the night before. The force that’d built up in my body
and poured out of me as a surge of flames wasn’t something I could
ignore. It also wasn’t something I really wanted to think about,
either. My ever-logical mind tried to convince me that I’d fallen
into hallucinations and what I had seen hadn’t really happened, but
I couldn’t buy it.
    Something had happened.
    Meir said he’d seen burning Shakai carcasses
on the ground where he’d found me. So I hadn’t been
imagining anything. The question was, should I talk to Meir about
this? Should I admit to him that not only was I an escaped
prisoner, but apparently, I was a freak, too?
    I shook my head, partly in answer and partly
to get the popping and burning Shakai images out of my head. He
wouldn’t understand. Who would? Oh by the way, my mysterious
ability to create fire just might have something to do with
why I’m on a god’s hit list.
    Yeah, no.
    I’d just have to figure this one out on my
own. And in order to do that, I needed to find my home… and the boy
with the green eyes from my memory. I smiled for a moment,
remembering. But to go home, I’d need to first follow Meir. Meir,
who could never know what kind of person I was.
    When he returned several minutes later with
a set of clothes, I was completely resolved—I would keep my secret.
He set the clothes down on the bed next to me and I realized they
weren’t anything I would’ve expected. They were black and hard, but
they crumpled with each movement, like some kind of flexible body
armor. I looked at Meir questioningly and was shocked to see he
already wore an outfit like the one he’d given me.
    “We’re getting out of here tonight,” he
said. “My friend’s son is escorting a cargo ship to Soltak, and it
leaves in an hour. We’re going as soldiers—Tarmean slaves, charged
with guarding the goods.”
    I gulped. This was going to be a
nightmare.
    “Go ahead and get dressed.”
    I realized with a start that I hadn’t moved
since he’d shared our good news. When he spoke, I pulled myself off
the bed and started to fumble with the uniform. With a little help
from Meir, I got the pieces on. It fit a tad big on my skeletal
form, though it was surprisingly light and airy. I ripped a strip
of cloth off of one of the