FOURTEEN

TEYO VERADA

“I thought I told you to lock your door.”

“What door?” Teyo asked blearily. “There’s no door.”

“Teyo, wake up.”

The abbot was shaking him out of a very sound sleep. Morning sun was shining in through the window. The abbot shook him again. He looked up.

Not the abbot. Definitely not the abbot.

It took Teyo a few seconds to even recognize Kaya. To even remember where he was. What world he was on.

But it all began to come back to him through the haze of his still-tired brain.

“Why didn’t you lock your door?”

“I did,” he muttered low. Then, clearing his throat, he repeated, “I did. I know I did.”

“Well, I found it open. And Rat’s door was unlocked, too. She’s gone.”

“Wait, what—”

“Rat is gone.”

Instantly Teyo was fully alert. He sat up in the bed and asked, almost demanded, “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. But I’m already late for the meeting at the Senate House. So you need to find her.”

He nodded.

Nothing happened for a beat, until an exasperated Kaya said, “Teyo, get a move on. I’m worried about her. She needs you. She needs us.”

Now, without a doubt, her tone reminded him of Abbot Barrez. He scrambled out of bed and immediately began donning his outer garments, but he was also shaking his head. “Kaya, you know why she left. She left because we’re leaving.”

“I’m well aware of that. Nevertheless, I want you to find her and bring her back.”

“So that we get to say goodbye?”

“So that maybe none of us have to.”