by Davis Ashura
With a start, she recovered her self-awareness and withdrew her hand. What had she been thinking? She swallowed heavily and quickly stood, pacing away from the small circle of firelight and toward the boulders. She wanted…she needed distance between herself and Rukh. She knew what had been in her thoughts. She had meant to run her fingers gently through Rukh’s hair, cup his face, just touch him.
Jessira paused when she reached the ring of boulders and leaned against one of them. She breathed as if she had sprinted straight up the eastern face of Mount Frame. This was how she acted after their earlier conversation? Jessira silently berated herself. She couldn’t give Rukh such mixed signals. She couldn’t let her heart trick her into thinking there was something present when there wasn’t. She had to be strong. There was a deep bond of friendship between her and Rukh, but that was it. Nothing more. There couldn’t be.
And besides, she’d been selfish enough already.
Rukh and Jessira made their way along the rugged banks of a high, mountain stream. The water ran cold and clear through a narrow ravine with a scattering of thin skeletal trees and bushes clutching hard to the sheer sides of the gully. Slabs of granite had broken off the ravine’s walls, crumbling into boulders and rocks of various sizes. It made footing treacherous, and the two of them had to walk their horses alongside the stream bed. The risk was too great for a turned ankle if they tried riding their mounts.
They followed the water to where it carved a deep runnel into a thick stone ledge before falling down a series of rocky prominences and cliffs, ending as a mist on the valley floor several hundred feet below.
Rukh stood on the edge of the shelf, staring out over the expansive view. Green hills marched off into the distance, merging at the edge of his vision with the perpetually snow-covered peaks of the Privations.
Right now, he would gladly trade the coolness of the mountains for the unseasonably warm weather he and Jessira were enduring. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the afternoon sun blazed down. The light cut through a layer of low clouds as beams of pale yellow light, dappling the forested valley below in hues of gold, a portent of autumn’s glory. Although most of the trees had yet to change color, soon enough they would. Rukh and Jessira would have to move quickly if they wanted to make it to Stronghold before the snows made the mountain passes impassable.
“Do you see a way down?” Jessira asked. She absently wiped the sweat from her brow.
Rukh took a pull of water and passed her the canteen. “No,” he answered. “But let’s take a rest before we decide on anything.”
“We need to be down this cliff by nightfall,” Jessira said.
Rukh nodded in reply and led the way back upstream, allowing the horses to drink. He squatted to refill his canteens, his thoughts growing distant as he recalled the events of the past week.
For a single night, during the return from the Chimera breeding caverns, Rukh had actually believed he could go home with his dignity intact. His fellow warriors, his brothers, had come to see his new Talents for the gifts that they were. If they could do so, then why not the rest of Ashoka?
Maybe it might have even worked out that way, but his own foolishness had killed those chances. The Chamber of Lords could have overlooked Rukh’s new Talents, but they couldn’t overlook the rumor of an illicit relationship between Rukh and Jessira, especially when there was so much proof of it. It had all been because of a late-night walk the two of them had shared in Dryad Park. How could Rukh have been so damned stupid? The Chamber had been forced to act. They had declared Rukh Unworthy.
The shame of such a judgment still stung like a harsh slap to the face. Worse was the empty, lonely ache of all that had been ripped from him—all the people he loved, his future. He tried not to dwell on his loss, but on some nights, the pain would overcome him. Then tears of sorrow would trickle down his face. He only allowed such weakness when he was alone at night. Never during the day when Jessira might see.
He didn’t need her sympathy or her pity. It would be too humiliating.
Besides, his feelings for Jessira were already jumbled up enough as it was. He knew she blamed herself for what had happened to him, and maybe some might even believe there was some truth to that. But Rukh didn’t think so. No matter how much she might be wracked with guilt over what had happened to him, Rukh’s predicament was of his own making. He was the author of his fate, and it had been his decisions, his blindness, that had led to his exile. His choice to make public his friendship for Jessira—a ghrina—that had led to his family’s suffering. How disappointed they must be in him.
Still, despite his mixed emotions when it came to Jessira, sometimes he wondered how much easier his life might have been if she had never come into it.
But then there were other instances, such as the all-to-brief kiss they had shared, when he thanked Devesh she was still with him. When he was glad that such a woman walked beside him. Times such as now.
Jessira held still. Her heart-shaped face was frozen in concentration as she filled her canteens. Her honey-brown hair fell loosely about her face, framing her fine Cherid features, and her red-gold skin seemed to glow under the sun. If she glanced over, Rukh knew he would be trapped in the glory of her emerald eyes, unable to look away.
His breath caught when Jessira stood and walked back to the edge of the bluff. She was lovely in repose but so beautiful in movement, graceful as a leaf on the wind.
“I think I see a path, a goat trail maybe, not too far away,” Jessira said, and the moment was broken.
Rukh walked to where she stood. A stray breeze blew, playing with Jessira’s hair, swirling it about, and carrying her subtle cinnamon scent. It was something Rukh had first noticed during their earlier time in the Wildness. Wisping about her was a scarcely detectable undercurrent of cinnamon. He stifled his discomfort when she shifted closer so he could more easily follow the line of her pointing finger.
“Do you see it?” Jessira asked.
Rukh nodded, noting the trail she was indicating. They should be able to reach it in an hour or so, and with luck, get down to the valley floor by the time it grew dark. “If we back track a bit, we should be able to pick it up somewhere east of here,” he said.
His optimistic assessment proved wrong. The hike to the goat track turned out to be a much longer slog then either one of them had initially reckoned. Over and over again, they had to stop and figure out where they were, but eventually they found the trail, a wild animal path, that thankfully, proved easy enough to follow. Though it was only wide enough for one horse single file, they were able to make a swift descent, regaining some of their lost time.
They pushed on well past sunset, into the dark, determined to reach the valley floor. Rukh led the way, lighting the path with a muted, red-hued firefly lantern. Several hours later, the track finally bottomed out.
They stopped for the night in an area of new growth, where an oak, a giant of the forest, had fallen. Its collapse had left a large opening in the canopy up above and a small clearing on the forest floor down below.
After making camp, they sat across the fire from one another and ate their suppers in silence.
It was the way things were between them now: stiff and formal. It was uncomfortable, and Rukh didn’t like it. He missed their easy camaraderie. They used to get along pretty well, even if they might have argued a lot. Rukh knew the reason for the change. It was the kiss. And Jessira’s ongoing guilt for whatever role she might have played in his expulsion from Ashoka. With so much hanging between them, maybe they no longer knew who they were to one another. Were they just traveling companions? Friends? Or something else entirely? Their confusion had them walking on eggshells around one another, and Rukh was tired of it. It couldn’t go on; not when they had another seven or eight weeks of travel ahead of them.
“I don’t blame you for what happened to me,” Rukh said, breaking the silence.
Jessira didn’t respond at first. Instead, she seemed to study him. “Are you sure?
” she finally asked. “I would if I was in your shoes.”
Rukh considered how best to answer her question. The crackling of the fire and friendly chirps of crickets were the only sounds to be heard. “I don’t blame you,” he told her again. He quirked a smile. “It would be easy to do so, but it’s not the truth.”
“Then what is the truth?” Jessira asked.
Rukh sighed. “I made my own choices, and I chose not to see the danger gathering around me. I should have remained silent about my Talents. I should have entrusted the knowledge of what I can do to no one else but my parents, my brother, and my sister. I spoke without thinking before Rector Bryce. It was the first of a series of mistakes.”
“But your final error was allowing yourself to be seen in public with a ghrina,” Jessira said. She stared him in the eye. “You wouldn’t have done so, except that I was feeling lonely and shamed you into it.”
“You didn’t shame me,” Rukh said. “You only reminded me of how I was avoiding doing what I knew was right.”
“Was taking me on a late-night stroll through Dryad Park the ‘right’ thing to do?” Jessira asked, her lips set in a frown.
Rukh shrugged. “As I said…a series of mistakes.”
Jessira shook her head. “I think you’re being too generous,” she said. “I did something unforgivably selfish, and for you to try and absolve me of my choices, saying they weren’t important to your fate.…” She shook her head in disagreement. “You’re wrong, Rukh.”
Rukh sighed heavily, not sure what else to say, and an uncomfortable silence fell between them. He ended it a moment later. “All I can tell you is this: I want to move past what’s happened. I want to find a way to make something—anything—out of the wreckage of my life. As a start, I want our friendship back.” He searched her features, wondering what she was thinking. His ability to sense her feelings or thoughts seemed to have left him. “What about you?”
Jessira hunched her shoulders and rubbed her hands over her crossed arms before a tight smile appeared on her face. “I want the same thing,” she said. “It’s just.…” She paused.
“It’s just what?” Rukh coaxed.
“I don’t know if I deserve your forgiveness, and I don’t think getting on with your life is going to be as easy as you seem to think it will be.”
“You never needed my forgiveness,” Rukh replied. “You need your own. And I know it won’t be easy putting my life back together, but I have to start somewhere.” He shrugged. “Making things right between us is a start. Maybe then I won’t feel sad all the time.”
Jessira regarded him. “Do you want to tell me?” she asked.
Rukh laughed in bitterness. “What’s there to tell? I hurt, and I’m tired.” He stared Jessira in the eyes, giving her a challenging look. “I could use a friend, though.”
“I am a friend,” she said.
“Well, we haven’t exactly been friendly lately, have we?”
“What do you mean?” Her face was a frozen mask, hiding her emotions, but Rukh noticed the tension in her shoulders. It was her giveaway whenever she was nervous.
“I think you know what I mean,” Rukh replied, annoyed at her reserve. “When was the last time either of us laughed?”
“I didn’t think you’d appreciate my happiness when you’re so miserable,” she replied.
“I could use seeing some joy right now, even if I can’t feel it myself.”
“What do you want to do then?” Jessira asked, her face thawing somewhat.
“What friends normally do. Talk about our lives,” Rukh answered, relieved she was showing some interest in what he was saying.
“What do you want to talk about?” Her face thawed further.
“I don’t know. Whatever you want. You can tell me all about Stronghold or your family or your fiancé.” He forced a smile. “I’m curious to meet this man who’s won your heart. He must be special.”
“My fiancé is a man amongst boys,” Jessira answered, deadpan. “He feeds the poor, tames the mountains, and is satisfied by nothing less than a thousand virgins.” She paused. “Then he has breakfast.”
Rukh barked in sudden laughter. “Remind me never to get on his bad side,” he said. “But if he needs a thousand virgins a day, what happens when the two of you get married.”
Jessira looked at Rukh from beneath hooded eyes, and she grinned slowly. “After he’s had me, he’ll still feed the poor, tame the mountains, and have his breakfast, but he will never again need a thousand virgins.”
Rukh smiled at her self-satisfied smirk, but something in her words caught his attention. “After he’s had you. Meaning he hasn’t had you yet. He blinked in confusion. What’s wrong with him?” The question slipped out before he could think to keep his mouth shut, but it was asked out of genuine curiosity and puzzlement. What was wrong with the man? Jessira’s fiancé must have ice water for blood if he didn’t want to be with Jessira.
Jessira’s smirk left her face. She reddened. “Can we talk about something else?”
“You brought this up,” Rukh reminded her.
“Just let it go.”
“Then tell me what he’s really like?”
“He’s a plumber.”
“A plumber,” Rukh replied. Jessira was going to marry a plumber? “He must be an extraordinary plumber.”
“Don’t judge him,” Jessira said, tartly. She must have heard the mockery in Rukh’s voice. “He’s a good man. And besides, in Stronghold, a plumber is a highly honored and lucrative craftsman.”
“I see,” Rukh said, although he didn’t. What could be so attractive about being a plumber? “So when did you meet?”
“Why do you want to know so much about him?”
“I’m curious. I want to get to know you and your people better. And I’ll probably meet your fiancé eventually anyway. And I don’t want to say or do anything embarrassing, like act shocked when I find out he’s a plumber.”
Jessira sighed. “Fine. His name is Disbar Merdant. He’s a journeyman plumber, but he should receive his master’s card by the spring. As for how we met: Stronghold is a small city, only about a fifth the size of Ashoka, and we grew up together, although he’s a few years older than me.”
“And he doesn’t care when you’re sent out of the city as part of your warrior’s duties?”
“He doesn’t like it, but once we’re married, I’ll step down from the Silversuns, my squad.”
“And then what?”
She shrugged. “Then I’ll bear his children. I’ll fulfill the dream of all women: to become an amma.” She sounded defensive, as if she was trying to convince herself of the truth of her statement.
“You must love him a lot to give up scouting,” Rukh said.
“Love him?” Jessira chuckled. “Not yet.”
Rukh frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Our parents thought we’d make a good match,” Jessira said. “And the dowry has already been paid.”
An arranged marriage then. They were common in Ashoka as well, although most everyone dreamt of finding a love match. Maybe that explained why Jessira and this Disbar Merdant had yet to be intimate. The man was still an idiot for not trying.
Rukh shook his head. He needed to get his mind off that topic. It brought up thoughts about Jessira he shouldn’t be having. “I’m sure you’ll be happy,” he said, cringing at the empty sentimentality of his words, even as they left his mouth.
“I’m sure we will,” Jessira replied, looking certain, but Rukh could hear the doubt in her voice.
Aia placed a tentative paw in the slow running, shallow river. She quickly withdrew it. The water was cold. Her tail switched her irritation, and she paced along the bank in irritation. Her Human had crossed this same river several weeks ago, and she was bound and determined to reclaim him. But the obstinate, freezing water cared little for her desires. It thwarted her wants, defying her. All of it seemed grossly unfair.
Aia came to a disgusted halt and stared
out over the river in annoyance. If a Kesarin could grimace, just then Aia would have. Aia sat down on her haunches and yawned, thinking on what she should do next.
Her Human was heading deeper into the mountains, and though it was yet early in the cold season, Aia could already see snow blanketing many nearby slopes and peaks. The high country was a wretched land of jagged rocks, biting cold, and piercing ice. It wasn’t a place for a Kesarin. Her kind were built for the warmth of the Land, the lush savannah the Humans named the Hunters Flats. Kesarins thrived in the burgeoning heat of a summer, not the chill claws of winter.
Aia groomed herself from elbow to shoulder and considered her options. She ran her raspy tongue along her fur, clipping out a knot with her teeth. Next, she turned her attention to her head, running a paw from the back of her neck to the sensitive area between her ears. Again and again Aia rubbed, until she was certain she’d worked out all the dirt and debris she could reach. The paw required a final cleansing wipe from her tongue before she was satisfied that her fur was perfectly groomed.
The sun stood high and warm, and the riverbank invited her to take a nap, but Aia’s growling stomach reminded her that it had been over a day since she had last eaten. With a disappointed huff, Aia stood and padded away from the river, taking a nearby trail through the forest. Earlier in the day, she had spotted a small herd of deer. They might be lingering nearby still. As she walked along the trail, she heard a rustling to her left and noted a brown bear moving through the trees. He looked likely to intersect her path, and Aia eyed him warily. He was large for his kind, and Aia stepped toward him, snarling a challenge. The bear took one look at her, and heeded her warning. He quickly changed direction.
Aia gave a satisfied blink. It was as it should be, and she turned her thoughts back to how she had lost her Human. Rukh Shektan was his name, and Aia loved the flavor of his mind. She had from the first time she had met him. In fact, shortly after investigating his presence in the hills north of the Land, Aia had decided Rukh would be hers to keep. His fingers were so perfect for scratching her chin, and his funny ideas and notions, such as the loving care and devotion he applied to the female—the one who wasn’t his mate or even family—all of those things interested her. Of course, then he had so inconsiderately hidden himself away in the ant colony of activity in which Humans lived, a place she couldn’t enter.
