‘I know Sintara does that to you. I’ve seen it happen a few times. We’ll be in the middle of talking about something, something important, and suddenly you stop even looking at me and say that you have to go hunting right away.’
Thymara kept a guilty silence. She didn’t want to tell him he was mistaken, that going hunting was her best excuse for avoiding him whenever their conversations became too intense.
Tats seemed unaware of her lack of assent. ‘But Fente doesn’t do that to me. Well, hardly ever. I think she loves me, Thymara. The way she’s changing me, being so careful about it. And after I’ve fed her and groomed her, sometimes she just wants me to stay right there with her and keep her company. Because she enjoys my company. That’s something I’ve never had before. My mom was always asking the neighbours to watch me when I was little. And when she killed that man, she just took off. I still think it was an accident, that she only meant to rob him. Maybe she thought she’d just have to hide for a short time. Maybe she meant to come back for me. She never did. When she knew she was in trouble, she just ran away and left me to whatever might happen to me. But Fente wants me to be with her. Maybe she doesn’t really “love” me, but she sure wants me around.’ He gave a half shrug as he walked, as if she would think him sentimental. ‘The only other one who ever seemed to like me was your father, and even he always kept a little distance between us. I know he didn’t like me spending so much time with you.’
‘He was afraid of what our neighbours might think. Or my mother. The rules were strict, Tats. I wasn’t supposed to let anyone court me. Because it was forbidden for me to get married. Or to have any child. Or to even take a lover.’
Tats gestured in wonder at the antler scores on a tree they passed. The deer that had done it must have been just as immense as the one Heeby had just killed. She touched them with a finger. Antler scores? Or claw marks? No, she couldn’t even imagine a tree cat that large.
‘I knew his rules for you. And for a long time, I didn’t even think of you that way. I wasn’t that interested in girls then. I just envied what you had, a home and parents and a regular job and regular meals. I wished I could have it, too.’
He paused at a split in the game trail and raised an eyebrow at her.
‘Go left. It looks more travelled. Tats, my home was not as wonderful as you thought it was. My mother hated me. I shamed her.’
‘I think … well, I’m not sure she hated you. I think maybe the neighbours made her ashamed of wanting to love you. But even if she did hate you, she never left you. Or threw you out.’ He sounded almost stubborn in his insistence.
‘Except that first time when she gave me to the midwife to expose,’ Thymara pointed out bitterly. ‘My father was the one that brought me back and said he was going to give me a chance. He forced me on her.’
Tats was unconvinced. ‘And I think that’s what really shamed her. Not what you were, but that she hadn’t stood up to the midwife and said she was keeping you, claws and all.’
‘Maybe,’ Thymara replied. She didn’t want to think about it. Useless to think about it now, so far away from it in both time and place. It wasn’t as if she could go and ask her mother what she had felt. She knew her father had loved her, and she’d always hold that knowledge close. But she also knew he had agreed with the rules that said she must never have a lover or a husband, never produce a child. Every time she thought of crossing that boundary, she felt she was betraying him and what he had taught her. He had loved her. He’d given her rules to keep her safe. Could she be wiser than he was in this matter?
It seemed as if it should be her decision. Actually, yes, it was her decision. But if she decided her father was wrong, if she decided she was free to take a mate, did that somehow damage her love for him? His love for her? She knew, without doubt, that he would disapprove of her even considering such a thing.
And even at this distance, his disapproval stung. Perhaps more so because she was so far from home and alone. What would he expect of her? Would he be disappointed if he knew how much kissing and touching she’d indulged in with Tats?
He would. She shook her head and Tats glanced back at her. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing. Just thinking.’
But as she said it, she became aware of a rhythmic pounding. Something was running, with no effort at stealth, coming up the trail behind them.
‘What is that?’ Tats asked and then glanced at the trees nearby. She knew what he was thinking. If they had to take refuge, climbing a tree might be their best hope.
‘Two legs,’ she said abruptly, surprising even herself that she had deduced that from the sounds.
An instant later, Rapskal came into view. ‘There you are!’ he shouted merrily. ‘Heeby said you were nearby.’
He was grinning, full of joy at finding them. Full of pleasure in life itself, as he always was. Thymara could seldom look at Rapskal without returning that smile. He’d changed a great deal since they had left Trehaug. The boyishness of his face had been planed away by hardship and the approach of manhood. He’d shot up, taller than anyone should grow in a matter of months. Like her, he had been born marked by the Rain Wilds. But since their expedition had begun, he’d grown lean and lithe. His scaling was unmistakably scarlet now, to complement Heeby’s hide. His eyes had always been unusual, a very pale blue. But now the lambent blue glow that some Rain Wilders acquired with age gleamed constantly in them, and the soft blue sometimes had the hard silver bite of steel. Instead of becoming more dragonlike, the features of his face were chiselled to classical humanity: he had a straight nose, flat cheeks and his jaw had asserted itself in the last couple of months.
He met her gaze, pleased at her stare. She dropped her eyes. When had his face become so compelling?
‘We were trying to hunt,’ Tats responded irritably to Rapskal’s greeting. ‘But between you and your dragon, I suspect anything edible will have been scared out of the area.’
The smile faded slightly from Rapskal’s face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he responded sincerely. ‘I just wasn’t thinking. Heeby was so glad to find so much food and it feels so good when she’s happy and has a full belly. It made me want to be with my friends.’
‘Yes, well, Fente isn’t so fortunate. Nor Sintara. We’ve got to hunt to feed our dragons. And if Thymara had brought down that deer, instead of Heeby crashing on it, we would have had enough to give both of them a decent meal.’
Rapskal set his jaw and sounded defensive as he insisted, ‘Heeby didn’t know you were nearby until after she’d killed her meat. She wasn’t trying to take it from you.’
‘I know,’ Tats replied grumpily. ‘But all the same, between the two of you we’ve wasted half the day.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Rapskal’s voice had gone stiff. ‘I said that already.’
‘It’s all right,’ Thymara said hastily. It was unlike Rapskal to become prickly. ‘I know that you and Heeby didn’t mean to spoil our hunt.’ She gave Tats a rebuking look. Fente was just as wilful as Sintara. He should know that there would not have been anything Rapskal could have done to stop Heeby from taking the deer, even if he’d known they were stalking the same prey. The lost meat was not the main source of Tats’s irritation.
‘Well, there’s a way that you can make it up,’ Tats declared. ‘When Heeby’s finished, maybe she can make a second kill. One for our dragons.’
Rapskal stared at him. ‘When Heeby has eaten, she’ll need to sleep. And then finish off whatever is left of the meat. And, well, dragons don’t hunt or make kills for other dragons. It’s just not … just not something she’d ever do.’ At the stern look on Tats’s face, he added, ‘You know, the real problem is that your dragons don’t fly.