Chapter 17: The Quiet Light 17

Whoa. What does that mean?

I didn't make up his hesitation to touch me before, so what in the world—

Zan turns, keeping a hold of my hand in his and pulling me through the open-air market.

This time, the sound sort of washes around me. Rather than trying to process all the sights and scents, I pass through them like water, Zan's warm hand like a beacon as I fix my gaze on the back of his head and just follow.

Then he opens the door to a shop, and as soon as it closes behind us the world quiets.

My shoulders relax, and it feels like a weight has lifted off of my mind. I hadn't even realized how tense I still was.

Zan leads me to a table and chairs, and I sit gratefully.

"I'm sorry," Zan says. "I didn't think—"

I shake my head. "Don't be. It should have occurred to me, I just... didn't really conceive of what a bigger Crystal Hollow would mean for me."

"I knew, though," Zan said, "I should have—"

"You're not responsible for thinking of everything in advance," I interrupt him a little testily. "Sometimes you have to adapt to circumstances, and we did. Where are we?"

Zan pauses for a moment. "It's called Respite Café," he finally says. And then adds dryly, "A lot of trendy businesses here have named themselves for The Quiet."

My lips quirk in amusement.

He gestures to the side, where large windows enable us to see the outside, but not hear it.

"This used to be a market, but now vendors set up pop-up stands on the street," Zan explains. "Farmers, artists, and so on. There are restaurants like these that surround it. This place in particular touts itself as a break from all the hustle."

A person arrives at our table, startling me. I freeze halfway through a form under the table as he deposits two slates and chalk and then is gone again without a word.

"That was a waiter," Zan tells me.

"I'm familiar with the concept." With an effort I tear my eyes away back toward the table.

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"You've never eaten in a restaurant."

"Nope."

"This is a menu. You choose whatever you want to eat, and check the boxes accordingly. When the waiter comes back, we'll hand him back the slate, and he'll bring the food. When we're done, we'll pay. Normally waiters will talk to you to take orders, but this place's gimmick is being a break from having to talk to people unless you want to, so you won't have to say anything to him at all. It's not exactly a normal restaurant for your first, but—"

"I love it already," I assure him. "How will we pay, though? Do you have money?"

I tense again as the waiter arrives—I'm not ready!—but he only deposits two steaming mugs on the table and then departs again.

I sniff. "Wait. Is that—is that tea? From abroad?" My eyes widen. "Can you afford that?"

"Very much so," Zan answers with some amusement. "It's become much cheaper since your time. It's one of the most common food imports—up there with vanilla."

"Vanilla?"

Zan cocks his head with a speculative look. "It's very common in desserts. Probably anything you order will use it."

Somehow I hadn't expected food to be so different.

I stare at the menu, starting to actually read it, then frown. The words all look word-like, but—

I quickly do my focus kata under the table as I work through it, my primed mind synthesizing new patterns quickly. Pretty soon it becomes apparent that the words mostly still sound similar to what I'd expect—at least, since Zan has spoken to me throughout the years so I have already synthesized the bigger linguistic shifts—it's the spellings that have all shifted, so I start mouthing them as I read.

Zan swears under his breath. "Dammit, I didn't think of that either. We were conversing fine, I didn't consider—can you even read this?"

"Yes," I say absently. "Somewhat? I don't know some of these words though. What's a tomato?"

He blinks. "I have... never tried to describe what a vegetable tastes like. It's red?"

My lips twitch. "Red vegetable. Noted."

Zan purses his lips. "Fine. It's not spicy. It's... sharp? Maybe a little sweet. It's very juicy."

We both consider that for a moment.

"I don't really know what that means either," I admit. "I guess I'll have to try one at some point."

I could try one today. I could choose that.

Foods that won't have any associations with my old life. Will that make me feel free, or just unmoored?

Do I want to eat a new vegetable?

Zan clears his throat. "To answer your question about money, don't worry about it. I have contacts all over Kameya that I fence scales to as needed."

I glance up. "Is that how you got into trouble? A new contact?"

Zan nods. "It's safer for me to take the risk of testing them than for the humans who help me smuggle people out of the priesthood." His lips quirk. "Also a way for me to distribute my magical wealth to people who need it that the priesthood can't touch, since the only systemic way involves murdering me. What looks good?"

There are so many things here I don't know where to start.

I'm beginning to understand just how many choices I'm going to have to make, both immediately and forever.

It's freeing, but there are also so many things I have no idea how to choose, and some of them will be important, and they're also endless?

Every time I eat, I'll have to choose the food. Every time!

This is absolute madness that people apparently live with every day.

A gift.

But also madness.

What do I want?