"I'm sorry, but I have to find Erevair," she tells me, already rus.h.i.+ng past.

I'm filled with guilt. What is wrong with me? Why can't I speak out loud to save a child? I feel like the worst person imaginable. Maybe I've forgotten how to speak because it's been so long.

I need to do something to help, though. I walk away, thoughtful, trying to recall more of what Erevair said. It was all about Bek and wanting to spend time with him. There was a cave mentioned. Where is there a cave around here, then?

I find myself walking to the pulley at the far end of the canyon. I'll just pull myself up and see if there are tracks out there. If there are, I'll go to the others and try to sign-language it out or something. Heck, I'll draw stick figures if I can't spit the words out. I'll do something to help out. But first I need to be sure I'm not just making things worse.

So I walk to the pulley, my steps quick. I must be more tired than usual, because even that short walk-no more than ten minutes-seems to sap all of my energy. I'm so incredibly weak, my feet feel like they're sandbags. I pause and rub my neck, catching my breath, and my stomach churns. Maybe I should have eaten something.

Maybe you should have said something to Claire, my brain reminds me, instead of running off half-c.o.c.ked.

I'm already here, though. The pulley's just a short distance ahead, and I'll see if there are footprints, and then I'll go back to the village. Grimly determined, I ignore my fatigue and push through, moving slowly to the pulley. It's hard to tell if anyone's been here in the last hour or two, which means I'll need to go up. I stand on the pulley and grab the rope, then begin to tug myself upward.

Even though I'm tired, the pulley is easy to use and requires little muscle work, so I'm at the top in no time. I step off and release the rope, and it slides back down to the ground below. Whoops. I should have secured it, and now I'm going to have to pull it back up again. My brain's a little foggy, though. I'll worry about that later.

I take a few steps forward into the snow. The landscape up here looks completely different than down below. The gorge is protected from the worst of the weather, but up here, the snow is thick. Sunlight glints off of it, and rolling white hills lead to distant trees and even more distant purple mountains. The skies are bright blue, and a few puffy white clouds dot the otherwise clear sky. It's...so pretty. So open. I love it.

In this moment, I want to take up hunting, just so I can come out and enjoy this every day.

The snow here is thick, though, and at the pulley station, it's heavily churned from many feet. It's impossible to tell which ones are recent, so I look for small footprints instead of big ones. Sure enough, one set is of feet smaller than my own, leading off into the hills. I follow it, fatigued and dizzy.

It takes a few minutes for it to sink in that I shouldn't be following the trail. That I should be heading back to the village to let them know that I've seen footprints. But...I'm this far in. What if he's just over the next rise? I could retrieve him and bring him home and ease everyone's worries. Turning around now seems foolish...and exhausting, too. I'm so tired.

So I walk on. I'm in over my head, I think. It seemed like such a simple thing-go to pulley, find footprints, return-but I seem to be messing everything up. It's because I can't think straight. There are stars at the edges of my vision, and my focus tunnels until I can see nothing but the footsteps in the snow in front of me.

Through my grogginess, I notice that there's a second set of footprints that have appeared next to the small ones. Huh.

"Ell-ee?"

I look up, the action of lifting my head making the world tilt crazily. I really, really should have eaten something. I really should have stayed in the village. My gaze focuses slowly, and two blurry figures straighten into one lumpy one.

It's Bek, and Erevair's in his arms.

"Safe," I croak out. The black tunnel creeping into my vision grows thicker, and I feel myself topple forward. The last conscious thought I have is that it looks like I haven't forgotten to talk after all.

BEK.

Out of all the things I expect to see on the trails on a quiet morning, little Erevair is not one of them. I am hunched down by one of my traps, resetting it carefully, when I hear a small, piping voice behind me. "Bek!"

I whip around in surprise, startled to see Claire's son racing toward me as fast as he can in the thick snow. He has the little spear I made him in hand, his fur cape flapping behind him, a big grin on his face.

And I am immediately sick with fear at the sight of him. Had I not seen metlak tracks in this area just a few moons ago? And is he not the right size for a snow-cat to feast upon? A sky-claw? There are any number of predators that could pick off a small kit, not to mention the dangers of deep snow, ice-covered creva.s.ses, and a number of other elements that a smart hunter knows to look for. "Erevair. What are you doing?" I rush to him and s.n.a.t.c.h him into my arms, holding him close. My heart thuds heavy in my chest. Luck watches over him this day.

"I came to see you," Erevair tells me happily, throwing his arms around my neck. "Now we can hunt."

"Where is your mama? Your papa?" I return his hug and then look him in the eye, though I want to shake sense into him. "Are they with you?"

"I came alone," he tells me proudly, confirming my fears. "Mama said I could."

"I doubt that very much," I tell him with a pat on the back. My heart is still pounding, and I can only imagine how worried Claire is. "Does she know you are here?" His silence tells me everything. "I see. Let us go back to the village. You cannot hunt with me this day."

"But why not?" he whines, disappointed. "I want to hunt with you."

"Another time," I tell him, and cannot resist giving him another hug. He is safe; Claire will be so thankful. "For now, we must take you back to your mama. She will be worried that you are gone."

He protests and pouts, but when I promise we will check a few traps as we return, he ceases to complain. I hurry my steps through the valley, trying not to clutch him too close to my chest out of fear and relief. I will have to talk to Ereven about how we can keep Erevair occupied. Perhaps he needs a task given to himself that only a small kit can do. I remember when I was young, my task was to set out my father's weapons every day and check them with him. I know Ereven does something similar with Erevair, but maybe the kit needs more to occupy him. We pa.s.s by one of my traps, and there is a fresh quill-beast caught in the snare, and Erevair is beside himself with excitement at bringing home fresh meat for his mama. I reset the trap quickly, scoop the kit up into my arms again, and continue hurrying back to the canyon.

As I do, I see a fur-covered figure up ahead. At first I think it is one of the hunters, but as I approach, I realize the form is too small, the movements too unsteady. Claire alone, then? What foolishness is this? I bite back my scowl and hug Erevair a little closer as I jog through the snow, rus.h.i.+ng to get to her.

It is only when my khui begins to sing that I realize who it is staggering ahead of me. "Ell-ee?"

She looks up, and her face is as pale as the snow, her eyes bright blue and enormous in her face. "Safe," she says, and then slumps to the ground.

I let out a hoa.r.s.e shout of fear and rush to her side, setting Erevair down carefully in the snow and then cradling my mate to my chest. I brush her filthy hair back from her face, scarcely daring to breathe as I trail my fingers over her cheek. She breathes. I exhale with relief, the crus.h.i.+ng fear in my chest easing a bit.

"Is Elly all right?" Erevair asks in a small voice. "She looks sick."

She does look sick, and my heart hurts at how light she is. "I do not know."

"Mama says she doesn't eat enough."

I have noticed this also. "I will make her eat," I vow to him.

He holds out his freshly trapped quill-beast. "Do you want her to eat this? I can share."

I feel a surge of love for this small kit. "You are a generous hunter," I tell him gravely. "But let us wake Ell-ee first." He hunches down in the snow next to me, and we watch my mate's face, waiting. She seems to be sleeping peacefully, her breathing regular. Is she faint because she did not eat enough? Surely my khui would know she cannot mate if she is sick, and it hums in my chest as urgent as ever. I cradle her close to my chest, worried.

She moans and stirs, and I resist the urge to squeeze her tight against me. I never want to let her go. Her eyes flutter open after a moment, and she gazes up at me, our khuis humming in perfect time. And I tell her the first thing I think of. "Safe," I whisper. "You're safe with me."

Ell-ee gives a little sigh, and to my surprise, settles back in against me, tucking her face against my vest. Her hand curls around the leather of my clothing, and she holds on to me. I feel a surge of pleasure rush through me that she would trust me so, and I vow not to disappoint her. I get to my feet, making sure my mate is protected in my arms, and glance down at Erevair. "Are you a big enough hunter to be able to walk back to the village?"

He nods proudly. "Can I carry my kill since you are carrying Elly?"

"Of course." I feel a surge of pride as he squares his small shoulders and begins to march ahead of me. This is a strange day. First Erevair, then Ell-ee. I am relieved that both are safe, and a small part of me is secretly glad, because now I get to hold my mate close.

I glance down at her as I walk, feeling protective, and her eyes are closed, her breathing even. I wonder if she is pretending sleep, but I decide it does not matter. If she is trusting me enough to let me touch her, it is enough for now. She will give me more in her own time.

The walk is a brief one compared to my normal hunting treks-just through the valley itself-but Erevair begins to tire after a short time. I watch him as his steps slow, wondering how I am going to carry both child and mate, because I refuse to leave either behind. To my relief, I spot a figure up ahead, and the tangle of shoulder-length mane tells me that it is Erevair's father. Not wanting to frighten my mate with a call of greeting to Ereven, I hold up a hand instead. "There is your father, Erevair."

The other hunter gives a shout, and Ell-ee jerks in my arms, her eyes flying open with fear, body tense.

"Shh. All is well," I murmur to her, but set her down gently. It pains me to release her because I want to hold her close, and I feel a surge of pride when she steps behind me, using me as a s.h.i.+eld. She wants me to protect her. I like this. She is mine, and it makes my khui's song even stronger.

Ereven drops to his knees and pulls his little son into his arms. Sheer joy and relief are carved into his face as he hugs Erevair close. "My son, my son, where have you been? Your mother has been crying all afternoon."

Erevair's little face crumples. "Am I in trouble, Papa? I just wanted to go hunting with Bek." He holds up the frozen quill-beast, which has been dragged along in the snow and looks worse for its journey.

"No trouble," Ereven says, ruffling his son's hair. "But you must go home and apologize to your mama for scaring her so." He glances up at me, and his face seems as if it has aged overnight. "You found him?"

I nod. "I think he slipped away when Claire was busy. I ran into him while checking my traps."

"I just wanted to hunt," Erevair says again, with the innocence only a child has.

"You can hunt with me very soon," Ereven promises, lifting him into his arms. "But for now, we must get you home." He pulls his son close and presses a fierce kiss on his brow. "You have made my mane go gray with worry."

Erevair giggles. "It's still dark and messy, Papa."

"Just wait until tomorrow." He grins over at me, relief stark, his shoulders a little straighter. "Is that Ell-ee behind you? Claire said that Ell-ee tried to tell her something, but she would not speak. Claire said when she looked for Ell-ee again, she was gone."

I glance over at Ell-ee, but she averts her eyes, seemingly not interested in answering for herself. I think of Ereven's words-she did not speak to Claire, but she spoke to me. My pride surges, and I can practically feel my chest puff up. "Ell-ee guessed where Erevair went and came after him."

"This is all of our worries solved, then. Both missing people found." Ereven's grin is tired, and he presses another fatherly kiss to his boy's mane. "I will tell Vektal of your help today."

"Bah." As if I care what that one thinks. Being leader has made him sour.

"I will," Ereven continues. "Not everyone agrees with this shunning foolishness."

It is just grat.i.tude that makes Ereven so eager to take my side, I think. I shrug and pretend not to be pleased by his loyalty. "Vektal does what he feels is best for the tribe. He feels I broke rules, so he must act or else there is no point in having a leader." Huh. This might be the first time I have thought about it that way...and suddenly I feel less resentment for my chief. Of course he is being strict. First Raahosh steals Leezh, then Harrec steals Li-lah. He likely thinks I am acting as foolish as them.

My actions were deliberate, though. I did not care about the consequences, and I bear them now, happily, because I have a mate.

Or at least, I will when Ell-ee finally comes to accept me.

I will still not apologize for having Trakan steal her and the others, however. So I shrug at Ereven. "You do not have to say anything to Vektal on my behalf."

"So be it, my friend." He peers around me, looking at Ell-ee. "Shall I take you back to the village?"

I glance back at my mate, who even now hovers behind me, her posture timid. She looks at me and then at Ereven. After a moment's hesitation, she slips her hand in mine.

Did I think I was full of joy before? There is nothing that compares to her small, soft fingers brus.h.i.+ng against my skin. My c.o.c.k immediately reacts, and I bite back my groan of pleasure. I will stroke my c.o.c.k to this tonight, just the simple act of her hand in mine. It will be more than enough to make me come with great force.

I cannot think about that right now, or I will rip off my loincloth and begin.

"So you choose to stay?" Ereven asks. "I mean you no harm if it is me you are afraid of."

"Safe," she whispers, so low that only I can hear it. And she presses closer to me.

I nod. I know what she is asking. "I will keep you safe with me. Have no fear." I make no move to touch her, letting my skittish mate decide how much she can handle. If all she wants is her hand held, I will give her that, even if I long to crush her against my chest with every whispered word she gives me. I turn to Ereven. "Ell-ee wishes to stay."

"Ell-ee?" Ereven asks. "Are you certain?"

She nods. Just once. Her free hand creeps to my vest, and she clings to my leathers.

He grunts acknowledgment. "I will tell the others so they do not worry over you. Where is it you sleep these days, Bek?"

I keep my movements slow so as not to frighten my mate. "The hunter cave over the rise. The small one."

"Very well. Safe journey to you and your mate, brother." He hesitates, as if uncertain about leaving Ell-ee with me, but then Erevair puts his head down on his father's shoulder and yawns, and it decides him. He raises a hand to tell me he is leaving and then turns in the snow, carrying his son back to the village and his waiting mother.

And I am here. Alone.

With my mate.

Today is a day of great joy.

9.

ELLY.

Pretty sure that pa.s.sing out all the time around Bek is going to earn me the reputation of a lightweight. I feel silly about that as he turns to look at me. He probably thinks I'm one stiff wind away from shattering into a thousand pieces. Somehow that's okay, though. It feels like it's all right to be a little fragile around him.

Which is strange.

I feel a little silly and weak for pa.s.sing out on him. That's total damsel-in-distress stuff, and I like to view myself as stronger than that. But it's my own fault-I haven't been eating. What dummy does that? This one, I guess. It's my own pigheaded fear that gets me into these messes. When I wake up and find myself cradled against his chest, though? And he tells me I'm safe?

It's weird, but I believe him. I do feel safe. Wrapped in his arms, burrowed against his warm body, I feel like the most protected woman in the world. Instead of fighting to get away from him, I let myself sink against him and close my eyes. I'm going to trust him. If he betrays me, I'll never forgive him, but for now, I'm going to trust.

I lie in his arms and let him hold me, and it feels...so good. Too good. I can feel my cootie purring in my breast and the slippery ache starting between my legs again. I've been abused so many times in the past that I expect him to pull a trick of some kind or to grab me. But he doesn't. He just holds me. Even when Ereven appears and Bek sets me down, he doesn't grab at me. And so I trust him a bit more.

Safe, he said. I'm going out on a limb and trusting that, even though I have no reason to. My cootie thinks he's good, though, and he doesn't grab, which puts him ahead of so many others.

It's funny, too, because a week ago, I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere near Bek. Not after his brutal tackle after the hunt. I thought then that he was awful, but his behavior in the days since has made me wonder. He's been patient but present, persistent but still giving me my own s.p.a.ce. It's like he knows I need time to adjust to things and he's willing to give it to me.

As someone who's been pushed and shoved by others for most of her life, I appreciate this more than anything.

So when Ereven asks if I want to return to the village with him, I hesitate. He's Claire's mate, and I know he doesn't mean me any harm. He's always smiling and happy and one of the friendliest of the tribe. But...I feel safe with Bek. It's weird, but I feel safer standing behind him in the snow than I do with Gail in our little hut. It's like...when I'm at his side, I know he won't let anything happen to me.

I put my hand in his. Bek's skin is warmer than mine, with a velvety softness to it despite the calluses on his hand. I thought touching him would make me feel uncomfortable, but if anything, it makes me feel better. I like it. I want to press my face up against his back and slip a hand under his vest, just to press my skin against his. But I'm not that brave yet.