Misfits of Aquila (Aquila's Originals 1)

Chapter 12: Good Deeds, Part 2

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. It took a while for Orla to notice it, but as her time in Nimbys lengthened and winter reluctantly relaxed its grip, leading to slightly warmer days, hints of returning greenery and an awful lot of rain, she realised she wasn't behaving like herself. She'd never been a garrulous person or particularly gregarious, but she could hold up her end of a conversation. Back home she hadn't had many friends, but that was because she had been surrounded by relatives. She might have been her parents' only child, but they had multiple siblings each, leading to Orla having an endless supply of aunts, uncles and cousins. Her life might have been short on friends, but it had overflowed with family. She'd rarely been alone or lacked for someone to talk to if she so wished.

In Nimbys there were no cousins, no family and very few friends either. She hadn't known she would miss it. She'd always thought she was quiet and fondest of her own company, always rather resenting the dozens of cousins who interrupted her life each and every day. What she wouldn't give to have them back now?

It didn't help that the selection school was nothing like she'd expected it would be. Training with her uncle was hard, she'd known about that, but she did take a small amount of satisfaction in seeing herself improve. No, she would never be as fast or as strong as some of her much larger fellow students, but she held up well and could outpace at least a handful of the others. When it came to stamina she was even better and she didn't mind working hard to improve herself.

The lessons were a different matter, covering subjects Orla had learned about years ago. Some of the history was new, especially about the countries who didn't trade much with her own, but the topic was skimmed so lightly Orla rarely felt like she was learning anything. Geography fascinated her, but since Henley found it boring he tended to distract her in those lessons, expecting to be entertained.

As for poetry, Orla had discovered she unexpectedly loved the subject. Unfortunately Henley hated it and he wasn't alone. It was the most disruptive lesson of the lot and since poor Tutor Yana ended each session storming off, disgusted with the lot of them, Orla hadn't yet plucked up enough courage to ask her for further reading recommendations. Besides, Henley wouldn't like it.

Henley. Ah, Henley. That was another thing that took Orla a long time to notice. At first she'd been so relieved to have a friend she'd probably allowed him to get away with too much. His remarks were often rude or insulting, but he did it in such a mild and cheerful way that Orla still wasn't certain whether he meant to be mean. His smile suggested he didn't, and yet he always had something else to say to put her down, to remind her that she was small, foreign, not like him. But she was lonely and he was the only one who would speak to her, so she accepted his insults, laughed at his mocking jokes and carried his bag when he pretended to admire her strength.

It was weak, she knew that, but she was homesick and lonely and his was the only friendly face she saw each day, beyond her instructors and tutors. She hadn't had a chance to see Uncle Hethanon since the school had begun three months ago. If he wasn't busy training the Riders, Henley had some plan or scheme for her to get involved in.

Orla wasn't certain she always enjoyed their outings and she frequently felt bad about stealing sweets from the confectioners and distracting the orange girls so that Henley could pinch a fruit or two, but he always waved her concerns away. The merchants of Nimbys were rich and always overcharging people. A few missing wares here and there wouldn't hurt them.

Still, when Orla's parents sent her a small allowance each month, she made a point to stop by each of the wounded sellers and spend a little more than she could strictly afford. Not that she minded. The sweets and fruit were always delicious and Henley rarely shared his ill-gotten gains with her.