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thrihyrneContinued from here
The journey was thankfully not an arduous one, yet it took a few days longer than expected to reach this fabled Castlegar on its mountaintop. I despaired, certain that we would run out of food and have to survive in the wild, though Lemuel had skills in those areas I did not. Walking up trails through woods with trees the like of which I'd not seen since before my inception, I forced one foot in front of the other. I still wore my oulla, while Lemuel had reverted to his favored brown leather pants and a flowing top. It draped from one shoulder to the opposite hip, leaving half of his torso bare.
"If I didn't have the skin of your back to inspire me, I'd have turned around days ago," I said through a dry throat.
"We're nearly there," he promised, turning to look at me, his own face haggard and shining with sweat.
Even his hair had lost its luster; he'd braided it and it lay limply down his spine. When I suddenly heard the sound of horses, I panicked.
"We've got to hide!" I hissed, pulling up my robes so I could run.
"No, no," he said, his relief palpable. "It's Cloudblaze. I sent him a message via mind-touch yesterday to tell him we were coming."
I gaped. "You must be of much higher caste than I am. I can't send my thoughts very far. I was best with Rex; now you know why."
He nodded, and drew me to him as a magnificent chestnut horse with an equally awe-inspiring har riding it came into view. I had thought that Lemuel and his parents were somewhat alien looking, but this har outstripped even them. His skin had a reddish tinge; his high forehead and wide cheekbones were flanked by raven black hair festooned with rivulets of braids. Everything about him radiated benevolence and understanding, though he seemed fierce and full of ancient mysteries. His dark eyes looked through me rather than at me, reminding me of the Braga; I lowered my head.
"It's good to see you again," Lemuel was saying when I looked up again. The other har dismounted from his horse and I saw he'd brought another horse with him, a dappled grey.
"I was not sure when you would return, if ever," the other har said warmly, pulling Lemuel to him in an embrace.
I fidgeted with my sleeves, wondering if I could walk alongside them the rest of the way. I'd never ridden a horse in my life. The har — what had Lemuel said his name was? — turned Lemuel loose and gazed at me.
"I am Cloudblaze. Do not fear," he intoned as though he'd read my mind.
He opened his arms to me and girding myself with all the confidence I could muster, I hugged him. He smelled of pipe smoke and musk; his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into my back. When he drew back, he held me at arm's length, intrigue sparking in his eyes.
"Your tribe?"
"Froia. I'm Chithra."
"Hmmmmm. Lemuel has chosen well, I see. Come, you will both want to eat and bathe and rest."
"Oh, yes," I moaned, and he made an amused noise.
"Chithra, you can ride behind me," Lemuel said, his voice far more animated now that his kinshar had arrived.
"I've never…"
"It's okay. Just follow my lead."
I'll never forget that rocking, shameful ride to Castlegar, legs spread around this beast and clinging for dear life to Lemuel's waist. Our small entourage clopped up the trail, Lemuel and the hawkish har sharing stories, speaking names of hara I would soon meet.
"You will be surprised— we have two guests from Immanion," Cloudblaze said as we turned onto a human paved road, gaping rudely with zigzagging fissures.
"Who?"
"The Gelamings Ashmael and Arahal."
"Really?" Lemuel seemed incredulous. "Well, Mabast should be pleased."
"Who are they? Or what? Where's Immanion?"
I hated feeling so rustic. I vowed at that moment that while I would pray to my dehar and dance his dances, I would forsake my robes and dress more like… well, less Froian.
"Don't worry, lithe one," Cloudblaze said. To my surprise, he didn't sound at all condescending. "We will take care of you after your long journey and then after a good night of sleep, introductions can be made."
"Thank you," I sighed, looking around as the famed stone buildings, homes and gardens that Lemuel had told me about came into view.
"Normally we eat as a group," Lemuel reminded me, "or used to. You and I will stay at my former house, unless somehar else has moved in?"
"No. I do not remain unconvinced that your father and hostling didn't weave some kind of spell on it," Cloudblaze chuckled.
"They kept some of their secrets even from me," Lemuel said ruefully. He let out a low sigh and patted the horse's neck. "I never thought I'd say this, but it feels good to be home."
Wide-eyed, I watched the hara of this mountaintop village go about their business; chatting, walking in pairs or groups; a few stalls were set up selling jewelry, leather goods and metalworks I couldn't recognize. We were on the main thoroughfare, the beauty of the stone structures reminding me of castles I'd read about in books when I was a human child. Groves of old trees provided shelter from the hot sun; newer stone houses of a more organic nature dotted the landscape further from the road. They seemed more harish and blended into the environment. I tried to ignore the inquisitive looks that I got, hoping to remain unnoticed as Lemuel shouted out greetings and fended off hara who knew him, saying we were exhausted and would meet up at breakfast.
At last we came to a wooden house that was nearly overgrown with ivy, a menagerie of human, harish and what I suspected were uniquely Colurastes tastes all combined. Gratefully I slid off the horse; my backside and thighs ached and I felt I could drink down a river.
"Thank you, Blaze," Lemuel said. "Do you mind taking Loma to the stables?"
"Of course not. Do you need assistance? I am happy to cook for you. I asked Vox and Polaris to put basic provisions in your kitchen."
"No thank you. I'll slap something together. As long as there's water and the generator works, we're set."
Cloudblaze leaned down and kissed Lemuel on the forehead, smoothing a hand across the back of Lemuel's head. Rings of silver and agate adorned several of his fingers.
"You are welcome here, Chithra har Froia," he said, his voice solemn. I nodded, gazing after him as he returned to the road with Lemuel's horse in tow.
"It's not the fanciest house in Castlegar," Lemuel said, quirking one side of his mouth.
"Any house with a bed. I'm so sore!" I complained, rubbing at my thighs and buttocks.
He opened the door and guided me through it. Once we'd dropped our packs with twin thuds, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. As his questing tongue sought my mouth and we shared breath, his affection and gratitude invigorated me. I was caught up in the smooth glide of snakeskin and firelight; he was foreign and yet tasted of home.
"I'll pour us some vralsfire, then draw a bath, and then bed," he promised.
"Nothing sounds better."
I anchored my fingers in the matted thick plait of hair at the base of his skull. His smile was like a hammock and I sank into it, cradled and safe, rocking gently on his breath. Later that night I struggled some with my breathing and felt that I had a fever, but I did some chants, which helped for a time. I convinced myself that it was a repercussion from our long journey, and was swept away into sleep.
* * * * *
There was an angel leaning over me, haloed in incandescent blue and speaking words of healing. Or at least he seemed to be such an otherworldly creature, his hands held over me, incanting words I couldn't recognize and energy pulsing from him like waves of heat from the sun. I blinked a few times, imagining that I saw his wings, wide and powerful from his shoulder blades. Was I dead? My mind suddenly kicked into high gear, frantic and racing, trying to snap the elements around me together into order like puzzle pieces. A soft, cooling cloth was wiped across my brow and I felt the tentative reach of silken hair slide reassuringly around my naked bicep. It was Lemuel. Had he died, too? The thought made my heart ache with sadness; I turned my head, hoping against hope to see him.
"No more vralsfire for you, Froia," I heard the angel say, his voice both businesslike and suffused with relief.
"What?" I croaked.
I hadn't died; somehar I'd never met before had been leaning over me and was now standing upright, rubbing feeling back into his fingers.
"Oh, thank Ag," Lemuel sighed, intertwining his fingers with mine.
It took me a while to grasp my surroundings, but I gathered that I was lying on a bed. The healing-har was giving me a look of curiosity and satisfaction, his hands perched on his leather-clad hips. He was powerful and knew it; I sensed his impatience at having been called to take care of me, whatever had happened. Lemuel sat at my side, his wish to crawl next to me caressing me with each breath he took. He'd been very worried; I remembered nothing after our drinks, bath, and sinking at long last into Lemuel's bed, holding my chesnari close and breathing in his familiar scent as I'd struggled with imagined fire in my veins and strained breathing. Sleep claimed me again; I put up no resistance.
* * * * *
"Get up, lazy!"
Lemuel's voice was darkly playful, heavy with relief. I groaned and stretched, wriggling my toes and fluttering my fingers above my head as though they were rushes in the waters.
"What happened?" I asked, feeling much more like myself and glad for it.
"Apparently Froia, or you, anyway, are allergic to something in the vralsfire that's served so often in Castlegar. Thank Ag that Ashmael was here. He's Gelaming, and his healing skills were such that he saved you from dying. Takes a lot to kill Wraeththu-kind, you know," he went on, sliding next to me like a snake, warm and sensuous.
"Yes, I know."
I tried to bat at him, but he pinned me down, decorating my face with desperate kisses.
"So don't ever, ever do that again," he admonished, only the flimsiest of cloth separating our groins. Back and forth he slowly rubbed, like a cat against a willing hand. He was soume; he desired me to fill him, but I really wasn't sure I was up to such a task. A delicious task, granted…
"I won't," I vowed as he took my straining ouana-lim in his hand. My pelvis arched up and I felt the petals curl down around his greedy fingers. "Did I really nearly die?" I asked before he sank down on me and I was robbed of all speech.
His muscles grasped and he rode me as surely as he had the horse that brought us to Castlegar. My fingers were talons, embedded in his hands as he took his pleasure. I was a shooting star, sparking lights in him so that he cried out and I tumbled after him. Unconsciousness tried to draw me to her with entrancing arms but Lemuel had a stronger grip. He smoothed away his sweaty curls and poured himself on me, a welcome grounding.
"There's something in the vralsfire that nearly killed you. So, no more for you. Coffee, water and wine will be your drinks. I can't bear to see you in a state like that again," he said, licking at the sweat on my face. "We do need to get you bathed and then we'll go to lunch and see Ashmael and the others. Ashmael is the one who put you to rights."
Lemuel's thighs clenched around mine and I drifted against his body like a branch bobbing on the waters.
"Just be with me," I suggested, gratified when he draped his torso over mine. This was where I belonged, in this sacrosanct lair for my jaguar, my lover.
"We can't lie in bed all day," he insisted. "I need to get some food into you and then you need to meet a bunch of hara."
"Ashmael," I said slowly. "He's the one who healed me?"
"Yes. He's Gelaming, the General of their guard, from Immanion. Over the ocean," Lemuel said as he stood, tugging gently on my hands until I was in a sitting position and then got unsteadily to my feet.
"He used to live here?" I clarified, shuffling behind Lemuel to the bathroom where he turned on the shower, making sure the water was good and hot before we both got in.
"Yep. He was in the original group who founded Castlegar. But then his chesnari was killed in an ice storm and he went a bit crazy. Then Thiede summoned him, and he went to Immanion. Took Parallax with him, too."
I was basking in Lemuel's attentions, limp and compliant as he washed my hair and soaped up my body under the delightful pressure of hot water.
"Why's he here now?"
"Don't know. Visiting, I suppose."
"And there's another Gelaming?"
"Yes, Arahal. I was only a harling when all of this happened, but he took a shine to Mabast, a Unneah. Then Mabast went to Saltrock for a few years. Now he's back, and Arahal visits him on occasion."
I watched Lemuel as he rinsed off, admiring his slender body, the dark nipples begging to be touched, and his muscular thighs. He had long toes and a smattering of hair decorated the top of his feet. His hair was quite long, hanging past the swell of his backside. Even when wet it was luxurious and full, shot through with bright blue and possessing a mind of its own.
"Like what you see?" he teased as he turned of the water, shimmying his hips so that his ouana-lim danced suggestively from thigh to thigh.
"You're terrible."
"I know. I'm just so glad to still have you," he murmured fervently, pulling me into a hug in his strong arms.
I didn't mind at all, even though my exposed skin was beginning to form goose bumps. He'd been frightened, and to be honest, a wisp of doubt about staying there crept into my thoughts. It found lodging in the crack of my self-assuredness of having left my own, but I tried to ignore it. There were other things to focus on: I was famished, and Lemuel said we should go to the communal lunch so I could meet our fellow hara.
"I'm terrible at names," I said, reaching for my oulla. I looked at it, and then reconsidered. Perhaps it was time for my robes to meet their fate, though I knew I'd feel underdressed without them.
"You're about my size," Lemuel said encouragingly. "Not everything I own is skin tight, either."
I looked askance at him. "Oh really?"
He quirked his mouth. "Yes. I'll find some looser trousers and a tunic for you. And you should have some jewellery. You all really don't adorn yourselves much, do you?"
"Rex was going to get a tattoo," I said defensively, holding up the thin linen shirt before going ahead and putting it on. "The Braga has them, and we love gold as anyhar would. What would you like to see me in?"
I had managed to slither into the pants which weren't as tight as I'd expected, thank goodness. Just saying Rexines' name made me homesick. I was newly troubled, realizing I'd nearly died thanks to this allergic reaction to their alcohol. Had I made some huge mistake?
"Chith. It's going to be fine." Lemuel walked over and enfolded me in his warm embrace. "I would have you dripping with jewels and paint your skin with gold, but I don't think that's your style."
I shook my head, inhaling the clean scent of his skin and the lilac in his hair from the shampoo.
"I'm pretty simple," I murmured against the side of his head. "But I wouldn't turn down a gift."
Lemuel laughed, a tender, mellifluous sound, and stood back away from me. He wore several rings, all silver with stones or engravings. He studied his fingers and then pulled off one that was my favorite, a filigreed band with an opal. He twisted it between thumb and second finger before placing it in my palm, his olive eyes bright with pleasure.
"For you, then," he said. "A symbol of my gratitude and devotion."
"For me," I echoed, trying it on a few fingers before keeping it on my right middle finger. It covered up a scar I had above the knuckle, a cat scratch from years ago. I let my gaze flit back to Lemuel, this lissome har who had so captivated me that I'd left my tribe and culture. I barely knew him, and yet, as ridiculous as it seemed, I'd surrendered my heart.
"Let's get to lunch," he said, running his hands through his towel-dried hair. "You're going to be a bit of a celebrity; might as well get it over with. But if it gets overwhelming, just say something, okay?" He was poised by the door, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm serious. Hara here are pretty laid back, but I doubt that any of them have met a Froian. And nohar thought I'd ever pair up, so you're doubly exotic."
"I'm not exotic!" I insisted as we walked outside. The day was warm and humid, the air humming with the busy travails of insects and chirping birds. "Especially within my own tribe. I'm a dancer, but that's the extent of how I stood out. I'm still shocked that you were drawn to me," I said quietly as we walked down the gravel path. Old trees sheltered our way, keeping the air cool.
Lemuel gave me a smile that made my knees weak. "I'm shocked, too. But it is what it is. My father and hostling told me a long time ago always to listen to my instincts, so I do. Cloudblaze said the same. He's practically another parent to me."
"He reminded me of the Braga," I admitted. "Or one of the therunans. What tribe is he?"
"He and his chesnari were of an ancient race when they were still human," Lemuel said, scratching his forearm. "I don't think as Wraeththu they really have a tribe. I suppose they're Castlegarians, or something," he said with a melodious laugh. "We need a name. I'll ask Ashmael about it; he's a founder, surely he thought about stuff like that."
We didn't run into any hara on the way, for which I was grateful. When I saw the dining hall I thrust out my hand to join Lemuel's. "I'm stronger than I look," I promised, and Lemuel gave me a reassuring smile.
"Strong or no, you're mine," he said, giving my hand a squeeze. "Oh! Ashmael!" he said, his spine snapping to attention. I did the same, only vaguely recognizing the Gelaming as the one who had pulled me back from the netherworld. He was strong and abrupt, an exclamation point; short blond hair, black leather and efficiency.
"Thank you," I said, lacking any eloquence, lowering my head in his presence.
"You're welcome," he drawled and I felt myself drawn into his speech like a leaf pulled into a current. "What are you doing here?"
What was I doing? Not even a few days here and I'd nearly been done in. The desire to return to the marshes bloomed in me, compelling and as harmful as nightshade. I stood in silence until Lemuel's hand snaked into my back pocket. "Lemuel brought me. I'm Froian; we don't usually travel. I suppose I'm an aberration."
Ashmael gave me a shrewd look. "A comely aberration. I wouldn't worry about it. Welcome to Castlegar."
"Thank you. You're one of the founders?" I asked as Lemuel guided me through the busy throng of hara over to where the food was being served. The scent of baked chicken and herbs caused my mouth to water and my stomach rumbled its discontent.
"Yes. I live in Immanion now, but my then-kinshar and many who are still here founded Castlegar. It's a place that holds many memories for me," Ashmael said, and I immediately thought of Lemuel's comments about his former chesnari being killed on the mountain. I didn't dare to ask him about that, it seemed far too personal, and the General was rather intimidating.
"So what brought you here now?" I asked as I served myself a healthy portion of chicken and potatoes, and then ladled some cooked carrots as well. "I'm glad you were here, of course!"
He gave me a pitying look. "I'm sure you are. I'd never heard of any Wraeththu being allergic to anything before, but we're still a relatively new race. We're constantly discovering new things about ourselves, and differences between tribes. I came here to get away from Phaonica for a little while; too much intrigue and I was losing my patience."
I followed Ashmael to a seat at one of the long tables and Lemuel joined us, chatting animatedly with the hara he'd grown up with.
"Is it bittersweet to be here?" I asked the General before realizing how intrusive a question that probably was.
"Bittersweet?" He arched an eyebrow, the black leather of his vest creaking suggestively as he turned to face me. "Well, yes, I suppose it is." He buttered a roll as my ears burned in shame. "More sweet than bitter, but I'd rather not go into all of that. Tell me about your tribe. You're rather an enigmatic group, and you're the first Froian I've met. Shameful, really."
I stumbled over the words, but managed to elaborate about my tribe to this imposing, fiercely handsome har.
"Don't forget to eat!" Lemuel chided after a time. "He needs to get his strength back, Ashmael."
"I know," he said with a smile. It transformed his face, formerly so stern, into one of kindness. I could see why he'd been one of the leaders; I'd have followed him in a heartbeat, his presence was that commanding. I took to eating with gusto, trying as unobtrusively as possible to take in all of the hara nearby. Two hara were particularly striking, absorbed in each other. One had a waterfall of silver hair and a strange latticework of leather straps adorning his torso. Despite his exotic apparel, the word 'Gelaming' rang in my head. Next to him was a har with a wide chest and strong arms adorned with copper bangles. Though they were conversing like everyone else at the table, I felt I could see their bond to each other, and marveled at it since they seemed to be so different from one another. Much like Lemuel and myself.
"That's Arahal, in the straps and feathers," Lemuel said quietly in my ear. "And Mabast. He's the Unneah I told you about. Quite a ferocious pair, though Arahal's been at Thiede's side since nearly the beginning of Wraeththu. He visits when he can."
"How can they bear to be apart?" I asked. "It's obvious even to me how devoted they are."
Lemuel shrugged, a possessive gleam in his eye. "Don't know. I certainly wouldn't want to live on a different continent from you, but Thiede has a way of convincing hara to do what he wants. Or he did."
I felt another wave of homesickness, missing my robed kinshar and our strong coffee and the sound of water lapping at the reed-house I'd shared with Rexines. Lemuel subtlely smoothed his hand on my back, reassuring me.
"It'll get more comfortable, I promise. I adore you, don't forget. The hara here will get to know you and you'll fit right in."
I gave him a skeptical look. "I'm so much darker than everyone else, and no one here can play the barbol. I'd really like to do one of our ritual dances, but who could play for me?" I was getting worked up and knew it, so I took some deep breaths and focused on cleaning my plate. The food was delicious and hearty; finishing my lunch was an easy task.
"There's no shortage of musicians here," Ashmael said, his voice full of sympathy. "And one things that makes a place like Castlegar or Saltrock so special is the variety of hara who live there. Lemuel, for instance," he went on, gesturing at him with his fork. "There aren't that many Colurastes around, really, much less a pure-born. There was Firethorn, Cloudblaze and Firestorm's son, and Jaffa. We even saved a couple of near-dead not-quite-Varrs back in the early days." I could see the faraway expression haunt his eyes, but it passed quickly and he resumed his usual commanding demeanor. "Variety is the spice of life and all that, Chithra har Froia. Just don't drink any more vralsfire."
"Never," I vowed.
He evaluated me with his piercing blue eyes. I didn't doubt that with his abilities he was assaulted by my increasing desire to flee. Maybe he could even smell it clammy on my skin, like sweat.
"I don't know you well, granted, and you've recently had an experience none of us wants to go through. I'm a soldier, but I have no more wish to die than the next har," he said, slicing an apple with an ivory-handled knife. "It takes a lot of nerve to act on affection alone, to blindly follow the winding path of your heart's deepest desires, especially as Wraeththu." Once again, he seemed to be looking at his past, and his tone deepened; the words were like the rich earth near the river. "Regret leaves messy wounds that can fester, or, if you're lucky, eventually be healed. We're resilient beyond just our physical selves, even if it seems like our emotions can burn us alive. If you feel you've been branded by a particular har, that maybe you're a bit insane for wanting to follow him absolutely anywhere, I would say that you should trust your instincts. I know what I'm talking about."
I couldn't bear up under his brooding scrutiny right then, so I nodded, murmuring, "Thank you, Ashmael. I needed to hear that."
He bit into an apple slice with a crunch. "I thought you might."
* * * * *
The afternoon was a blur as I was introduced to dozens of hara and escorted all over the mountaintop grounds. I told my story again and again in increasingly abbreviated forms until I found that I was exhausted by it all and didn't want to say another word. Except to Lemuel, anyway.
"Here— we're close to Blaze and Firestorm's house. They won't demand anything of you, we can just relax for a little bit before dinner."
I gave him a frantic look. It had been so illuminating to see Lemuel in an element in which he was dazzlingly comfortable, but I was overwhelmed.
"Can't we eat at your house? Or even picnic somewhere, away from everyone?" I pleaded as he came to a stop on the path. "I'm trying, I really am, but I don't want to explain myself any more today. And I can't remember the names of half the hara I met. I'll just embarrass myself."
"No, you wouldn't, but I'm sorry. I've pushed you and that wasn't fair of me. I just wanted to show you off," he said earnestly, his unbound hair rippling in its own current of will.
I couldn't stay frustrated with him, not when he took my hand and whispered a kiss across the palm. He then turned it over so he could run his tongue over the ring I wore that he'd gifted to me earlier that day, eons ago.
"I want to dance for you and to my dehar, without instruments," I said, pulling him to me and breathing deeply of his potent scent of musk and lilac. "I have the music in my heart. Ashmael said there was a clearing, a space on the edge of the mountain where you can see down to the valley and gaze at the stars. That is where I want to perform my ceremony of gratitude, but you'll have to take me there."
"Perfect." Lemuel clasped his hands around my waist and nipped tender kisses on my neck. "And then I'll take you, there on the grass under the stars. We'll sacrifice our seed to the Castlegar earth."
"Don't you ever think about anything else?" I asked in mock exasperation.
"Of course I do," he breathed hotly into my ear, causing a flare of lust to frisson down between my legs. "I think about you rooning me until I'm as boneless as a snake."
"That's still aruna, and we're out in the middle of a road!" I said helplessly, my body reacting to his words and his slick tongue delving into the sensitive skin of my ear.
"And you, no longer all covered up."
"Don't remind me. I feel half-dressed, and you're undressing me with your words, and mouth, unhhhhh…." My voice tapered off as I melted against him, but then I forced myself away. "Let's get some food at your house, then once night falls I want to dance for my dehar. And you."
He nodded, drawing a finger down the side of my face. "Thank you for trusting me," he murmured, affection blazing unabashedly in his golden-green eyes.
"I didn't stand a chance, not from the first time I saw you," I said ruefully. "All tight pants and pouty mouth and wild hair."
I played with a thin plait he'd tucked behind his ear and he smiled, feral but loving at the same time. More and more easily I could translate the myriad tales of expression written on his features, though I didn't doubt that learning the full vocabulary of his body could take a lifetime. An unpredictable, passionate lifetime. He seemed to be savoring the same joy in his own spirit, and he looped his arm in mine as he guided us in the direction of his house.
"You're like the cranes, but you spread your wings and flew further than you ever thought you'd go."
"I miss the water," I admitted. "That may never go away."
"Dance tonight," he said vehemently. "Give your pain and longing to your dehar, and I'll try to make you forget anything that he doesn't seem to take."
I wanted to reply as we walked along the dirt trail, but the words that came to mind were ridiculous: either I would sound like something out of the human romance novels my sister used to read, ages ago in another lifetime, or they'd be flat. How could I say there were tawny flames of hope and optimism flickering in my veins? That I wanted to map every inch of him, that I was desperate to be told every secret of his tribe he could share, that perhaps we were quite mad to be together and despite the sacrifices, we might end up disillusioned and heartbroken? Eventually I spoke up with steady truth, trusting the simplicity of sentiment.
"Between the two of you, I'll be well taken care of."
He tugged our elbows together so that I was right next to him, our hips bumping as our strides drew more parallel. "You came with me; I vow to the best of my ability to respect our differences and honor this journey together. I'm not at all perfect, not by a long shot, but I'll try not to be selfish or hurtful."
"I vow the same."
As he slid an arm behind my back, I sent out a silent prayer of gratitude to my dehar, and a wish for comfort to Rexines as well. That night I did dance, and Lemuel hummed the tune he'd heard only the one time. I spun under the stars and then our bodies soared together in motions as old and tumultuous as the first waves.
Nohar knows what the future will bring, though as time has gone on, I've gotten used to Cloudblaze sharing his dreams and visions. My yearning for the marshes has faded, though I know it will never go away completely. As the ivy clings to our house, Lemuel and I have grown together; with him I flew to his mountaintop land, and, like him, the plateau of Castlegar is faithful to me.
The journey was thankfully not an arduous one, yet it took a few days longer than expected to reach this fabled Castlegar on its mountaintop. I despaired, certain that we would run out of food and have to survive in the wild, though Lemuel had skills in those areas I did not. Walking up trails through woods with trees the like of which I'd not seen since before my inception, I forced one foot in front of the other. I still wore my oulla, while Lemuel had reverted to his favored brown leather pants and a flowing top. It draped from one shoulder to the opposite hip, leaving half of his torso bare.
"If I didn't have the skin of your back to inspire me, I'd have turned around days ago," I said through a dry throat.
"We're nearly there," he promised, turning to look at me, his own face haggard and shining with sweat.
Even his hair had lost its luster; he'd braided it and it lay limply down his spine. When I suddenly heard the sound of horses, I panicked.
"We've got to hide!" I hissed, pulling up my robes so I could run.
"No, no," he said, his relief palpable. "It's Cloudblaze. I sent him a message via mind-touch yesterday to tell him we were coming."
I gaped. "You must be of much higher caste than I am. I can't send my thoughts very far. I was best with Rex; now you know why."
He nodded, and drew me to him as a magnificent chestnut horse with an equally awe-inspiring har riding it came into view. I had thought that Lemuel and his parents were somewhat alien looking, but this har outstripped even them. His skin had a reddish tinge; his high forehead and wide cheekbones were flanked by raven black hair festooned with rivulets of braids. Everything about him radiated benevolence and understanding, though he seemed fierce and full of ancient mysteries. His dark eyes looked through me rather than at me, reminding me of the Braga; I lowered my head.
"It's good to see you again," Lemuel was saying when I looked up again. The other har dismounted from his horse and I saw he'd brought another horse with him, a dappled grey.
"I was not sure when you would return, if ever," the other har said warmly, pulling Lemuel to him in an embrace.
I fidgeted with my sleeves, wondering if I could walk alongside them the rest of the way. I'd never ridden a horse in my life. The har — what had Lemuel said his name was? — turned Lemuel loose and gazed at me.
"I am Cloudblaze. Do not fear," he intoned as though he'd read my mind.
He opened his arms to me and girding myself with all the confidence I could muster, I hugged him. He smelled of pipe smoke and musk; his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into my back. When he drew back, he held me at arm's length, intrigue sparking in his eyes.
"Your tribe?"
"Froia. I'm Chithra."
"Hmmmmm. Lemuel has chosen well, I see. Come, you will both want to eat and bathe and rest."
"Oh, yes," I moaned, and he made an amused noise.
"Chithra, you can ride behind me," Lemuel said, his voice far more animated now that his kinshar had arrived.
"I've never…"
"It's okay. Just follow my lead."
I'll never forget that rocking, shameful ride to Castlegar, legs spread around this beast and clinging for dear life to Lemuel's waist. Our small entourage clopped up the trail, Lemuel and the hawkish har sharing stories, speaking names of hara I would soon meet.
"You will be surprised— we have two guests from Immanion," Cloudblaze said as we turned onto a human paved road, gaping rudely with zigzagging fissures.
"Who?"
"The Gelamings Ashmael and Arahal."
"Really?" Lemuel seemed incredulous. "Well, Mabast should be pleased."
"Who are they? Or what? Where's Immanion?"
I hated feeling so rustic. I vowed at that moment that while I would pray to my dehar and dance his dances, I would forsake my robes and dress more like… well, less Froian.
"Don't worry, lithe one," Cloudblaze said. To my surprise, he didn't sound at all condescending. "We will take care of you after your long journey and then after a good night of sleep, introductions can be made."
"Thank you," I sighed, looking around as the famed stone buildings, homes and gardens that Lemuel had told me about came into view.
"Normally we eat as a group," Lemuel reminded me, "or used to. You and I will stay at my former house, unless somehar else has moved in?"
"No. I do not remain unconvinced that your father and hostling didn't weave some kind of spell on it," Cloudblaze chuckled.
"They kept some of their secrets even from me," Lemuel said ruefully. He let out a low sigh and patted the horse's neck. "I never thought I'd say this, but it feels good to be home."
Wide-eyed, I watched the hara of this mountaintop village go about their business; chatting, walking in pairs or groups; a few stalls were set up selling jewelry, leather goods and metalworks I couldn't recognize. We were on the main thoroughfare, the beauty of the stone structures reminding me of castles I'd read about in books when I was a human child. Groves of old trees provided shelter from the hot sun; newer stone houses of a more organic nature dotted the landscape further from the road. They seemed more harish and blended into the environment. I tried to ignore the inquisitive looks that I got, hoping to remain unnoticed as Lemuel shouted out greetings and fended off hara who knew him, saying we were exhausted and would meet up at breakfast.
At last we came to a wooden house that was nearly overgrown with ivy, a menagerie of human, harish and what I suspected were uniquely Colurastes tastes all combined. Gratefully I slid off the horse; my backside and thighs ached and I felt I could drink down a river.
"Thank you, Blaze," Lemuel said. "Do you mind taking Loma to the stables?"
"Of course not. Do you need assistance? I am happy to cook for you. I asked Vox and Polaris to put basic provisions in your kitchen."
"No thank you. I'll slap something together. As long as there's water and the generator works, we're set."
Cloudblaze leaned down and kissed Lemuel on the forehead, smoothing a hand across the back of Lemuel's head. Rings of silver and agate adorned several of his fingers.
"You are welcome here, Chithra har Froia," he said, his voice solemn. I nodded, gazing after him as he returned to the road with Lemuel's horse in tow.
"It's not the fanciest house in Castlegar," Lemuel said, quirking one side of his mouth.
"Any house with a bed. I'm so sore!" I complained, rubbing at my thighs and buttocks.
He opened the door and guided me through it. Once we'd dropped our packs with twin thuds, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. As his questing tongue sought my mouth and we shared breath, his affection and gratitude invigorated me. I was caught up in the smooth glide of snakeskin and firelight; he was foreign and yet tasted of home.
"I'll pour us some vralsfire, then draw a bath, and then bed," he promised.
"Nothing sounds better."
I anchored my fingers in the matted thick plait of hair at the base of his skull. His smile was like a hammock and I sank into it, cradled and safe, rocking gently on his breath. Later that night I struggled some with my breathing and felt that I had a fever, but I did some chants, which helped for a time. I convinced myself that it was a repercussion from our long journey, and was swept away into sleep.
* * * * *
There was an angel leaning over me, haloed in incandescent blue and speaking words of healing. Or at least he seemed to be such an otherworldly creature, his hands held over me, incanting words I couldn't recognize and energy pulsing from him like waves of heat from the sun. I blinked a few times, imagining that I saw his wings, wide and powerful from his shoulder blades. Was I dead? My mind suddenly kicked into high gear, frantic and racing, trying to snap the elements around me together into order like puzzle pieces. A soft, cooling cloth was wiped across my brow and I felt the tentative reach of silken hair slide reassuringly around my naked bicep. It was Lemuel. Had he died, too? The thought made my heart ache with sadness; I turned my head, hoping against hope to see him.
"No more vralsfire for you, Froia," I heard the angel say, his voice both businesslike and suffused with relief.
"What?" I croaked.
I hadn't died; somehar I'd never met before had been leaning over me and was now standing upright, rubbing feeling back into his fingers.
"Oh, thank Ag," Lemuel sighed, intertwining his fingers with mine.
It took me a while to grasp my surroundings, but I gathered that I was lying on a bed. The healing-har was giving me a look of curiosity and satisfaction, his hands perched on his leather-clad hips. He was powerful and knew it; I sensed his impatience at having been called to take care of me, whatever had happened. Lemuel sat at my side, his wish to crawl next to me caressing me with each breath he took. He'd been very worried; I remembered nothing after our drinks, bath, and sinking at long last into Lemuel's bed, holding my chesnari close and breathing in his familiar scent as I'd struggled with imagined fire in my veins and strained breathing. Sleep claimed me again; I put up no resistance.
* * * * *
"Get up, lazy!"
Lemuel's voice was darkly playful, heavy with relief. I groaned and stretched, wriggling my toes and fluttering my fingers above my head as though they were rushes in the waters.
"What happened?" I asked, feeling much more like myself and glad for it.
"Apparently Froia, or you, anyway, are allergic to something in the vralsfire that's served so often in Castlegar. Thank Ag that Ashmael was here. He's Gelaming, and his healing skills were such that he saved you from dying. Takes a lot to kill Wraeththu-kind, you know," he went on, sliding next to me like a snake, warm and sensuous.
"Yes, I know."
I tried to bat at him, but he pinned me down, decorating my face with desperate kisses.
"So don't ever, ever do that again," he admonished, only the flimsiest of cloth separating our groins. Back and forth he slowly rubbed, like a cat against a willing hand. He was soume; he desired me to fill him, but I really wasn't sure I was up to such a task. A delicious task, granted…
"I won't," I vowed as he took my straining ouana-lim in his hand. My pelvis arched up and I felt the petals curl down around his greedy fingers. "Did I really nearly die?" I asked before he sank down on me and I was robbed of all speech.
His muscles grasped and he rode me as surely as he had the horse that brought us to Castlegar. My fingers were talons, embedded in his hands as he took his pleasure. I was a shooting star, sparking lights in him so that he cried out and I tumbled after him. Unconsciousness tried to draw me to her with entrancing arms but Lemuel had a stronger grip. He smoothed away his sweaty curls and poured himself on me, a welcome grounding.
"There's something in the vralsfire that nearly killed you. So, no more for you. Coffee, water and wine will be your drinks. I can't bear to see you in a state like that again," he said, licking at the sweat on my face. "We do need to get you bathed and then we'll go to lunch and see Ashmael and the others. Ashmael is the one who put you to rights."
Lemuel's thighs clenched around mine and I drifted against his body like a branch bobbing on the waters.
"Just be with me," I suggested, gratified when he draped his torso over mine. This was where I belonged, in this sacrosanct lair for my jaguar, my lover.
"We can't lie in bed all day," he insisted. "I need to get some food into you and then you need to meet a bunch of hara."
"Ashmael," I said slowly. "He's the one who healed me?"
"Yes. He's Gelaming, the General of their guard, from Immanion. Over the ocean," Lemuel said as he stood, tugging gently on my hands until I was in a sitting position and then got unsteadily to my feet.
"He used to live here?" I clarified, shuffling behind Lemuel to the bathroom where he turned on the shower, making sure the water was good and hot before we both got in.
"Yep. He was in the original group who founded Castlegar. But then his chesnari was killed in an ice storm and he went a bit crazy. Then Thiede summoned him, and he went to Immanion. Took Parallax with him, too."
I was basking in Lemuel's attentions, limp and compliant as he washed my hair and soaped up my body under the delightful pressure of hot water.
"Why's he here now?"
"Don't know. Visiting, I suppose."
"And there's another Gelaming?"
"Yes, Arahal. I was only a harling when all of this happened, but he took a shine to Mabast, a Unneah. Then Mabast went to Saltrock for a few years. Now he's back, and Arahal visits him on occasion."
I watched Lemuel as he rinsed off, admiring his slender body, the dark nipples begging to be touched, and his muscular thighs. He had long toes and a smattering of hair decorated the top of his feet. His hair was quite long, hanging past the swell of his backside. Even when wet it was luxurious and full, shot through with bright blue and possessing a mind of its own.
"Like what you see?" he teased as he turned of the water, shimmying his hips so that his ouana-lim danced suggestively from thigh to thigh.
"You're terrible."
"I know. I'm just so glad to still have you," he murmured fervently, pulling me into a hug in his strong arms.
I didn't mind at all, even though my exposed skin was beginning to form goose bumps. He'd been frightened, and to be honest, a wisp of doubt about staying there crept into my thoughts. It found lodging in the crack of my self-assuredness of having left my own, but I tried to ignore it. There were other things to focus on: I was famished, and Lemuel said we should go to the communal lunch so I could meet our fellow hara.
"I'm terrible at names," I said, reaching for my oulla. I looked at it, and then reconsidered. Perhaps it was time for my robes to meet their fate, though I knew I'd feel underdressed without them.
"You're about my size," Lemuel said encouragingly. "Not everything I own is skin tight, either."
I looked askance at him. "Oh really?"
He quirked his mouth. "Yes. I'll find some looser trousers and a tunic for you. And you should have some jewellery. You all really don't adorn yourselves much, do you?"
"Rex was going to get a tattoo," I said defensively, holding up the thin linen shirt before going ahead and putting it on. "The Braga has them, and we love gold as anyhar would. What would you like to see me in?"
I had managed to slither into the pants which weren't as tight as I'd expected, thank goodness. Just saying Rexines' name made me homesick. I was newly troubled, realizing I'd nearly died thanks to this allergic reaction to their alcohol. Had I made some huge mistake?
"Chith. It's going to be fine." Lemuel walked over and enfolded me in his warm embrace. "I would have you dripping with jewels and paint your skin with gold, but I don't think that's your style."
I shook my head, inhaling the clean scent of his skin and the lilac in his hair from the shampoo.
"I'm pretty simple," I murmured against the side of his head. "But I wouldn't turn down a gift."
Lemuel laughed, a tender, mellifluous sound, and stood back away from me. He wore several rings, all silver with stones or engravings. He studied his fingers and then pulled off one that was my favorite, a filigreed band with an opal. He twisted it between thumb and second finger before placing it in my palm, his olive eyes bright with pleasure.
"For you, then," he said. "A symbol of my gratitude and devotion."
"For me," I echoed, trying it on a few fingers before keeping it on my right middle finger. It covered up a scar I had above the knuckle, a cat scratch from years ago. I let my gaze flit back to Lemuel, this lissome har who had so captivated me that I'd left my tribe and culture. I barely knew him, and yet, as ridiculous as it seemed, I'd surrendered my heart.
"Let's get to lunch," he said, running his hands through his towel-dried hair. "You're going to be a bit of a celebrity; might as well get it over with. But if it gets overwhelming, just say something, okay?" He was poised by the door, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm serious. Hara here are pretty laid back, but I doubt that any of them have met a Froian. And nohar thought I'd ever pair up, so you're doubly exotic."
"I'm not exotic!" I insisted as we walked outside. The day was warm and humid, the air humming with the busy travails of insects and chirping birds. "Especially within my own tribe. I'm a dancer, but that's the extent of how I stood out. I'm still shocked that you were drawn to me," I said quietly as we walked down the gravel path. Old trees sheltered our way, keeping the air cool.
Lemuel gave me a smile that made my knees weak. "I'm shocked, too. But it is what it is. My father and hostling told me a long time ago always to listen to my instincts, so I do. Cloudblaze said the same. He's practically another parent to me."
"He reminded me of the Braga," I admitted. "Or one of the therunans. What tribe is he?"
"He and his chesnari were of an ancient race when they were still human," Lemuel said, scratching his forearm. "I don't think as Wraeththu they really have a tribe. I suppose they're Castlegarians, or something," he said with a melodious laugh. "We need a name. I'll ask Ashmael about it; he's a founder, surely he thought about stuff like that."
We didn't run into any hara on the way, for which I was grateful. When I saw the dining hall I thrust out my hand to join Lemuel's. "I'm stronger than I look," I promised, and Lemuel gave me a reassuring smile.
"Strong or no, you're mine," he said, giving my hand a squeeze. "Oh! Ashmael!" he said, his spine snapping to attention. I did the same, only vaguely recognizing the Gelaming as the one who had pulled me back from the netherworld. He was strong and abrupt, an exclamation point; short blond hair, black leather and efficiency.
"Thank you," I said, lacking any eloquence, lowering my head in his presence.
"You're welcome," he drawled and I felt myself drawn into his speech like a leaf pulled into a current. "What are you doing here?"
What was I doing? Not even a few days here and I'd nearly been done in. The desire to return to the marshes bloomed in me, compelling and as harmful as nightshade. I stood in silence until Lemuel's hand snaked into my back pocket. "Lemuel brought me. I'm Froian; we don't usually travel. I suppose I'm an aberration."
Ashmael gave me a shrewd look. "A comely aberration. I wouldn't worry about it. Welcome to Castlegar."
"Thank you. You're one of the founders?" I asked as Lemuel guided me through the busy throng of hara over to where the food was being served. The scent of baked chicken and herbs caused my mouth to water and my stomach rumbled its discontent.
"Yes. I live in Immanion now, but my then-kinshar and many who are still here founded Castlegar. It's a place that holds many memories for me," Ashmael said, and I immediately thought of Lemuel's comments about his former chesnari being killed on the mountain. I didn't dare to ask him about that, it seemed far too personal, and the General was rather intimidating.
"So what brought you here now?" I asked as I served myself a healthy portion of chicken and potatoes, and then ladled some cooked carrots as well. "I'm glad you were here, of course!"
He gave me a pitying look. "I'm sure you are. I'd never heard of any Wraeththu being allergic to anything before, but we're still a relatively new race. We're constantly discovering new things about ourselves, and differences between tribes. I came here to get away from Phaonica for a little while; too much intrigue and I was losing my patience."
I followed Ashmael to a seat at one of the long tables and Lemuel joined us, chatting animatedly with the hara he'd grown up with.
"Is it bittersweet to be here?" I asked the General before realizing how intrusive a question that probably was.
"Bittersweet?" He arched an eyebrow, the black leather of his vest creaking suggestively as he turned to face me. "Well, yes, I suppose it is." He buttered a roll as my ears burned in shame. "More sweet than bitter, but I'd rather not go into all of that. Tell me about your tribe. You're rather an enigmatic group, and you're the first Froian I've met. Shameful, really."
I stumbled over the words, but managed to elaborate about my tribe to this imposing, fiercely handsome har.
"Don't forget to eat!" Lemuel chided after a time. "He needs to get his strength back, Ashmael."
"I know," he said with a smile. It transformed his face, formerly so stern, into one of kindness. I could see why he'd been one of the leaders; I'd have followed him in a heartbeat, his presence was that commanding. I took to eating with gusto, trying as unobtrusively as possible to take in all of the hara nearby. Two hara were particularly striking, absorbed in each other. One had a waterfall of silver hair and a strange latticework of leather straps adorning his torso. Despite his exotic apparel, the word 'Gelaming' rang in my head. Next to him was a har with a wide chest and strong arms adorned with copper bangles. Though they were conversing like everyone else at the table, I felt I could see their bond to each other, and marveled at it since they seemed to be so different from one another. Much like Lemuel and myself.
"That's Arahal, in the straps and feathers," Lemuel said quietly in my ear. "And Mabast. He's the Unneah I told you about. Quite a ferocious pair, though Arahal's been at Thiede's side since nearly the beginning of Wraeththu. He visits when he can."
"How can they bear to be apart?" I asked. "It's obvious even to me how devoted they are."
Lemuel shrugged, a possessive gleam in his eye. "Don't know. I certainly wouldn't want to live on a different continent from you, but Thiede has a way of convincing hara to do what he wants. Or he did."
I felt another wave of homesickness, missing my robed kinshar and our strong coffee and the sound of water lapping at the reed-house I'd shared with Rexines. Lemuel subtlely smoothed his hand on my back, reassuring me.
"It'll get more comfortable, I promise. I adore you, don't forget. The hara here will get to know you and you'll fit right in."
I gave him a skeptical look. "I'm so much darker than everyone else, and no one here can play the barbol. I'd really like to do one of our ritual dances, but who could play for me?" I was getting worked up and knew it, so I took some deep breaths and focused on cleaning my plate. The food was delicious and hearty; finishing my lunch was an easy task.
"There's no shortage of musicians here," Ashmael said, his voice full of sympathy. "And one things that makes a place like Castlegar or Saltrock so special is the variety of hara who live there. Lemuel, for instance," he went on, gesturing at him with his fork. "There aren't that many Colurastes around, really, much less a pure-born. There was Firethorn, Cloudblaze and Firestorm's son, and Jaffa. We even saved a couple of near-dead not-quite-Varrs back in the early days." I could see the faraway expression haunt his eyes, but it passed quickly and he resumed his usual commanding demeanor. "Variety is the spice of life and all that, Chithra har Froia. Just don't drink any more vralsfire."
"Never," I vowed.
He evaluated me with his piercing blue eyes. I didn't doubt that with his abilities he was assaulted by my increasing desire to flee. Maybe he could even smell it clammy on my skin, like sweat.
"I don't know you well, granted, and you've recently had an experience none of us wants to go through. I'm a soldier, but I have no more wish to die than the next har," he said, slicing an apple with an ivory-handled knife. "It takes a lot of nerve to act on affection alone, to blindly follow the winding path of your heart's deepest desires, especially as Wraeththu." Once again, he seemed to be looking at his past, and his tone deepened; the words were like the rich earth near the river. "Regret leaves messy wounds that can fester, or, if you're lucky, eventually be healed. We're resilient beyond just our physical selves, even if it seems like our emotions can burn us alive. If you feel you've been branded by a particular har, that maybe you're a bit insane for wanting to follow him absolutely anywhere, I would say that you should trust your instincts. I know what I'm talking about."
I couldn't bear up under his brooding scrutiny right then, so I nodded, murmuring, "Thank you, Ashmael. I needed to hear that."
He bit into an apple slice with a crunch. "I thought you might."
* * * * *
The afternoon was a blur as I was introduced to dozens of hara and escorted all over the mountaintop grounds. I told my story again and again in increasingly abbreviated forms until I found that I was exhausted by it all and didn't want to say another word. Except to Lemuel, anyway.
"Here— we're close to Blaze and Firestorm's house. They won't demand anything of you, we can just relax for a little bit before dinner."
I gave him a frantic look. It had been so illuminating to see Lemuel in an element in which he was dazzlingly comfortable, but I was overwhelmed.
"Can't we eat at your house? Or even picnic somewhere, away from everyone?" I pleaded as he came to a stop on the path. "I'm trying, I really am, but I don't want to explain myself any more today. And I can't remember the names of half the hara I met. I'll just embarrass myself."
"No, you wouldn't, but I'm sorry. I've pushed you and that wasn't fair of me. I just wanted to show you off," he said earnestly, his unbound hair rippling in its own current of will.
I couldn't stay frustrated with him, not when he took my hand and whispered a kiss across the palm. He then turned it over so he could run his tongue over the ring I wore that he'd gifted to me earlier that day, eons ago.
"I want to dance for you and to my dehar, without instruments," I said, pulling him to me and breathing deeply of his potent scent of musk and lilac. "I have the music in my heart. Ashmael said there was a clearing, a space on the edge of the mountain where you can see down to the valley and gaze at the stars. That is where I want to perform my ceremony of gratitude, but you'll have to take me there."
"Perfect." Lemuel clasped his hands around my waist and nipped tender kisses on my neck. "And then I'll take you, there on the grass under the stars. We'll sacrifice our seed to the Castlegar earth."
"Don't you ever think about anything else?" I asked in mock exasperation.
"Of course I do," he breathed hotly into my ear, causing a flare of lust to frisson down between my legs. "I think about you rooning me until I'm as boneless as a snake."
"That's still aruna, and we're out in the middle of a road!" I said helplessly, my body reacting to his words and his slick tongue delving into the sensitive skin of my ear.
"And you, no longer all covered up."
"Don't remind me. I feel half-dressed, and you're undressing me with your words, and mouth, unhhhhh…." My voice tapered off as I melted against him, but then I forced myself away. "Let's get some food at your house, then once night falls I want to dance for my dehar. And you."
He nodded, drawing a finger down the side of my face. "Thank you for trusting me," he murmured, affection blazing unabashedly in his golden-green eyes.
"I didn't stand a chance, not from the first time I saw you," I said ruefully. "All tight pants and pouty mouth and wild hair."
I played with a thin plait he'd tucked behind his ear and he smiled, feral but loving at the same time. More and more easily I could translate the myriad tales of expression written on his features, though I didn't doubt that learning the full vocabulary of his body could take a lifetime. An unpredictable, passionate lifetime. He seemed to be savoring the same joy in his own spirit, and he looped his arm in mine as he guided us in the direction of his house.
"You're like the cranes, but you spread your wings and flew further than you ever thought you'd go."
"I miss the water," I admitted. "That may never go away."
"Dance tonight," he said vehemently. "Give your pain and longing to your dehar, and I'll try to make you forget anything that he doesn't seem to take."
I wanted to reply as we walked along the dirt trail, but the words that came to mind were ridiculous: either I would sound like something out of the human romance novels my sister used to read, ages ago in another lifetime, or they'd be flat. How could I say there were tawny flames of hope and optimism flickering in my veins? That I wanted to map every inch of him, that I was desperate to be told every secret of his tribe he could share, that perhaps we were quite mad to be together and despite the sacrifices, we might end up disillusioned and heartbroken? Eventually I spoke up with steady truth, trusting the simplicity of sentiment.
"Between the two of you, I'll be well taken care of."
He tugged our elbows together so that I was right next to him, our hips bumping as our strides drew more parallel. "You came with me; I vow to the best of my ability to respect our differences and honor this journey together. I'm not at all perfect, not by a long shot, but I'll try not to be selfish or hurtful."
"I vow the same."
As he slid an arm behind my back, I sent out a silent prayer of gratitude to my dehar, and a wish for comfort to Rexines as well. That night I did dance, and Lemuel hummed the tune he'd heard only the one time. I spun under the stars and then our bodies soared together in motions as old and tumultuous as the first waves.
Nohar knows what the future will bring, though as time has gone on, I've gotten used to Cloudblaze sharing his dreams and visions. My yearning for the marshes has faded, though I know it will never go away completely. As the ivy clings to our house, Lemuel and I have grown together; with him I flew to his mountaintop land, and, like him, the plateau of Castlegar is faithful to me.