“You know,” Firuz ventured, lifting the spigot to pour water into the teapot when the glug of boiling began, “they might be afraid of you.” “Afraid?” Kofi tilted his head, hand poised to pick up the baskets he’d been filling with sorted plants. “Why would they be afraid? I’m a healer, not whatever is hunting them across the sea.” Firuz flinched so hard, they nearly dropped the teapot. One thing to know the current fate of their people, another to hear the careless mention tossed out like trash to be burned.
