“We lost them,” he said. “They didn’t come in this direction. They either got delayed going after someone else or headed for more accessible areas.”
“Are you sure?”
He studied the area once more, but all we heard were the ordinary sounds of a forest at night. “Positive. No horse could come through this, and we had too much of a head start on foot—because we let the others be caught instead.” He made no attempt to hide the frustration within him.
I sagged in relief, unwilling to admit how terrified I’d been of being found with a group of heretics by the governor’s men.
“How did you know where we were?” Cedric asked.
“Mira told me. She told me how to sneak out too. She’s very resourceful.”
He snorted. “She’s not the only one, apparently. Do you realize what kind of danger you put yourself in? Sneaking out of the house? Going through the woods alone?”
“No more dangerous than religious dissidents who insist on holding services out in the open when their faith is punishable by death,” I retorted. “Why do you keep doing that? Why don’t you find some sacred, windowless basement to worship in? It’s like you’re trying to get caught.”
Cedric sank to his knees. There was less light out here, but I could see him put a hand to his face. “The Star Advent has to be outside. I should’ve suggested another place. This one’s privately owned, like Douglas said, but they’ve used it before—and that’s dangerous. I should’ve been more prepared—helped them more.”
I put a hand on his shoulder, moved by the anguish in his voice. “You helped them. They may have all gotten away. You gave them some warning before the riders came.”
He stood back up. “Adelaide, why did you come out here?”
“Why do you think?” I asked. “Warren was bragging about how he was going to go round up some Alanzans tonight, and I knew my favorite heretic would be out with them.”
“Adelaide . . .”
Although I wasn’t able to truly meet his eyes in the darkness, I felt compelled to glance away from the intensity I could feel. There was no way I could tell him the truth, that Warren’s words had filled me with dread, that my chest had tightened with the thought of something happening to Cedric—imprisonment, or worse. The bureaucracy of the Glittering Court, Viola’s machinations . . . none of it had mattered if something happened to Cedric.
“And I didn’t want to see your father steal your commission if you got yourself killed in some weird star-worshipping ceremony.”
His amusement returned. “You don’t know what Star Advent is?”
“How would I? I’m a devout worshipper of Uros.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw you sleeping, the last I was in church with all of you.”
I turned away and began walking in a random direction. “I’m going home to bed.”
He took my arm and began leading me a different way. “Come on. You’re in enough trouble, so let’s make a detour.”
“Is that a good idea?” I asked uneasily. “With them after us?”
“They aren’t after us anymore—not you and me, at least. And we’ll practically be on Wisteria Hollow’s property anyway. I need to show you what Star Advent is. Don’t worry,” he added, guessing my thoughts. “There are no dark ceremonies, no heathens lying together under the moon.”
“‘Lying together under the moon’? I suppose that’s a delicate way of referring to something sordid.”
“It’s not always so sordid. Sometimes it’s part of the Alanzan wedding service,” he explained. “Perfectly respectable.”
I thought about what Mira had said, that Alanzan morals were the same as ours—but I didn’t want him to know I’d asked about such things. “How so?”
“There’s a line in the ceremony: ‘I will take your hand and lie with you in the groves, under the light of the moon.’”
“Well, that’s pretty,” I said reluctantly. “But I take it sometimes lying together under the moon is as sordid as it sounds?”
He considered for several moments. “Yes. Yes, sometimes it is.”
After cutting through more wooded areas for a while, we entered a field. It was desolate and overgrown with weeds, probably abandoned in one of the wars with the Icori.
“This should be open enough,” Cedric said, though I noticed he stopped near the tree line so we weren’t entirely exposed.
He spread his cloak out on the ground and lay down on one side, gesturing for me to do the same. Puzzled, I gingerly crouched down and then stretched out beside him. There wasn’t a lot of room. He pointed.
“Look up. Away from the moon.”
I did. At first, I saw nothing but the stars set across the darkness of the sky. It reminded me of Blue Spring, with so many more stars visible than around the lights of Osfro. I was about to ask him what I was looking for when I saw a streak of light in the sky. I gasped, and another soon followed.
“A shooting star,” I said, delighted as I saw another. “Is that why you’re out here? How did you know?” I’d seen one as a child, completely by chance.
“It happens every year around this time. I never know the exact dates, but the astronomers figure it out. We say they’re the tears of the six wayward angels, weeping for their estrangement from the great god Uros.”
Another star streaked above us. “You worship Uros?”