Sacred Tenets

by Beth Reason

  Chapter 3

  Two weeks. That's how long they'd been in the wild. Tenet woke and rubbed his arms briskly in the even colder night air. They were about a hundred and fifty miles in. Almost there, in Tenet's mind. He relieved himself in the bushes, then came back into the camp. He was the first one awake, and that sent a stab of guilt through him. He'd offered halfheartedly to take a night watch the evening before. In one of her rare conversations, she explained that they were getting close enough to the border to have to really start watching for patrols. She had insisted on taking watch the last three nights.

  "You don't know what the hell you're looking for, and I do," she said if Tenet tried to argue.

  Tenet couldn't bridge the chasm between them. He had tried a few times, but usually Scarab shut him right back down. The distance between them was as vast as it was before the wraith attack, and he couldn't see how to make it any better again. He wasn't ready to concede that it wasn't callous to ignore the possible horrible things that befell those who he now thought of as friends, and she no longer tried to get him to see that to them, he was a calculated business risk. Stubborn? Yes. Self pitying? Absolutely. Of course he was more than mere business! They'd gone out of their way to help him. Tenet had to mean more to them than just money. He had to. Someone had to see him as something more than a paycheck, a burden, or a responsibility. He couldn't tell her that, though. He couldn't tell her how desperately he needed to feel like he mattered, even a little, to anyone. He couldn't tell her because he was terrified of what she might say.

  Tenet had made up his mind to gloss over and forget. He tried light banter. That was met with only the steady sound of Scarab's boots through the undergrowth. He tried asking her questions, sometimes getting one word answers, but usually getting the same response as the joking. She spoke to him when there was a different rule to follow, or when there was something he had to know. The border patrol was new, dangerous, and real. She had no choice but to fill him in on that. When he tried to press further, make her talk more, give more details, she told him to get some sleep and turned to watch across the grassy valley in the dark.

  The wind whipped through the tall grasses and he huddled near her behind the large tree they had chosen as their shelter. By the early light of morning, he could see they really had no better options. He could see the dark shadow of mountains in the distance. She had told him they would have to cross the ominous ridge before reaching the border. It didn't seem like such a far distance to him, but he knew the waving grasses of a prairie played tricks on the mind where distances were concerned. He knew they'd move the entire day through the wild, flat sea of green and seem like they got nowhere. Tonight's camp would be the same, perhaps even more in the open if they couldn't find a tree. The next day would be the same. And probably the next. Still, dawn showed him the end of the road.

  The end of this road, he corrected. In his mind, life was now sectioned off into blocks. This first one was crossing the dead zone between governments. The next was getting across the border. The next was planning the future depending on what happened with the border govers. The next was....well, he didn't know. But just getting that far with any kind of a plan was an accomplishment for someone used to having every single thing spelled out for him his whole life.

  The wind whipped grass in his face. He slouched to lower himself under the bristly tops. To him, it looked like wheat. He pulled a stalk and chewed on the end, grinning. It was wheat! Some wild variety, or some type left from before, when humanity covered every inch of the planet. Were they in someone's field? Was this someone's long abandoned farm? Did this wheat feed a family? For some reason, the thought gave him comfort. He pulled another stalk and chewed the sweet juice from the end.

  "Don't eat grass," Scarab muttered.

  Tenet jumped, her voice surprising him. He had no idea she was awake. "It's not just grass, it's wheat. Real wheat. You should try it."

  She groaned and rose. Looking at the sky, she frowned at him. "You should have woken me earlier."

  "I figured you could use the sleep."

  She was going to say something to him, but thought better of it. He looked peaceful, and that was a first all week. Without a word she made her way to the bushes, then returned to get their rations out of the bag. Tenet already had the protein bars and water ready. It annoyed her that he was so competent that morning and she ate in the familiar silence.

  "We're almost out of food," he said, even though she already knew that.

  "We'll push fast through this flat land and chose a camp early. Then we can hunt."

  He hadn't hunted yet. He had tried his hand at fishing, since that was something he could do back at their river camp while he was healing. He was terrible at it. The one time he got a bite, he was overly eager and snapped the needle in the fish's mouth, making Scarab have to fashion a new one. She did the fishing, and they were traveling in a good season for him to collect berries, herbs, and once he managed to find wild onions. While Scarab didn't like the berries, she loved the onions. Tenet kept his eyes peeled for them, but hadn't come across more. However, they were in prairie land. There were bound to be edibles as they went. At the very least, he could steep some of the green wheat and they could have a nutritious, if not delicious, wheat soup.

  The silence was interrupted by a sight so moving, Tenet could only gape and stare. An animal, tall and graceful, leaped right over the grass in the morning light. The sun glistened off the ruddy brown coat and the spray of dew that flew up when the animal would land glistened. To Tenet, it was as if some magical, mystical creature came to put on a show just for them.

  "Don't move," Scarab said quietly.

  "What is it?" he whispered.

  "It's a deer."

  Of course he'd heard of them. He should have known what it was. He didn't have to go to Africa to know an elephant was an elephant. It was the majesty of the morning, the beauty of the beast, the unexpected sighting when he thought they had long since passed into history that caught him off guard.

  "It's moving too fast for me," Scarab muttered.

  Tenet tore his eyes from the deer and looked at Scarab. Her gun was drawn and she was trying to sight the animal in her scope. He watched her arm move, tracking the beast until she dropped it down and swore. She caught him looking and turned red. "Don't you dare judge me, Tenet. That would feed us the rest of this trip."

  Tenet wasn't judging her, he realized much to his surprise. The thought floored him. He hadn't been judging her at all. As he watched her track and move her arm with the animal, his one thought was, "Shoot." That alone startled the hell out of him and he dropped his gaze, suddenly unable to look at her. "I wasn't judging you," he said.

  Scarab would have scoffed and argued the point if it weren't for the tone of voice. She frowned and put the gun back in her belt, feeling as if something had once again changed. Without another word, she rolled up her bedding as Tenet was doing. They packed in silence and began their travel.

  Prairie travel had its downsides. While the tall grass made it look flat, in reality there were many ruts, divots, and holes that couldn't be seen. They quickly learned the best way to handle it was to stomp, similar to the way they'd traveled through ash. Dragging or sweeping their feet in any way caught all the imperfections of the earth and risked ankle sprains.

  The grasses also hid snakes, a fact that became known when a large one reared up and coiled around Scarab's leg. Instinct made her act without thinking, and the snake was headless before she could think about what a close call it had been. She skinned the animal while the adrenaline still pumped through her. Tenet retrieved the head she had thrown to investigate, and they didn't see any fangs. It was probably some kind of rat eater and no real threat. Still, one type of snake meant the probability of many different types of snakes, some of them likely poisonous, and they'd have to be on their guard.

  The most frustrating part of prairie travel was the constant sun. There was no shade at all. To get an
y reprieve, they sat for a few minutes, gaining whatever shade they could from the tall stalks above their heads. It was small comfort, and the tops of their heads were hot unless they laid down, but it was something.

  It wasn't all bad, though. Tenet discovered a nest of some kind of bird when they were sitting to take a breather. Though it had no eggs, the odds were very good that if they paid attention, they'd come across more nests and some would have eggs. Or the birds themselves. Tenet had choked down some chicken at Weevil's. Scarab knew that meant he could handle a game bird. If they could keep pace, they could even afford a fire. Build a fire, roast their dinner, then put some miles on through the night before camping. It was risky, but a risk that would pay off. Also, there was plenty of fresh water in this particular tract of land. Little streams branched out through the grasses, no doubt the cause of the fertility of the wide valley.

  "The farmer in me wishes we could just make our home right here," Tenet commented in early afternoon as they set back off from a break. "Hell, there's already a crop!"

  They couldn't stay, of course. But she didn't want him to feel it was hopeless. "There's land like this across the border. Maybe we'll stick with tomato farming after all."

  He groaned. "Good god I hope not!" The look of surprise on her face made him laugh. "Hey, just because I know a lot about something doesn't mean I want it to be my life's calling. I had to fill you in on that stuff. You've got to know it. Let's just hope they let us forget. Personally, I plan on stressing the fact that we failed at tomatoes."

  "You don't want to farm, huh? I thought farming was in your blood."

  He shrugged. "Farming was my legacy. No matter what else I did, I'd always run an agro plot. It would be my responsibility. I know a lot about it, but I don't know if I want to do it now that I have a choice." They were walking side by side. They were talking. And damn, but it felt good to Tenet to do both.

  Scarab should walk ahead and keep pushing as she had, but she didn't want to. She couldn't exactly admit she had missed the friendly side of whatever their relationship was. She wasn't nearly ready to admit something like that, even to herself. But she did stay by his side, and she did let herself get sucked into his conversation. "If you don't farm, what else can you do?"

  He had to laugh at her tone. "Apparently, very little."

  "I didn't mean..."

  "Scarab, I'm kidding." He flashed her a grin, then looked around them. "I don't know. I like healing. You said they have healers."

  "Yes."

  "Doctors?"

  She had to shrug. "I was a kid from a very small community. All I ever saw was a healer, and only then when I..." She stopped talking. The memories were very close to tumbling out, and they never, ever had been before. She snapped her mouth shut and waited to see if he'd pry, silently begging him not to push.

  Scarab never said things about her past. Beyond her basic story told only of necessity and with very little feeling in the transport with Hark and Enna, what she said about her past before leaving the Borderlands wouldn't fill a paragraph. But he knew if he pushed, she would clam up. Hell, she'd probably turn the ice back on and he'd have another long day of watching her stiff back in front of him.

  When she didn't continue speaking, he chose to shift the conversation back to him. "A healer, huh Doesn't sound all that different from my life, actually." She snorted, but stayed by his side and he felt a minor victory. "It's not."

  "Oh please. I've read your file, remember? I find it hard to believe that Tenet Bradwin had anything but the very best medical care money could buy."

  "Me personally? Of course," he agreed. "But my family ran a very large corn share, and aided in overseeing a wheat crop. I had a doctor. I had regular visits in fancy hospitals with whirly equipment that would make Weevil drool. Guilty as charged."

  "See? Told you."

  "But," he said, holding his finger up. "Our workers didn't." He tilted his head before continuing, thinking of the best way to explain. "Do you know how a large agro share works?"

  "Don't change the subject, poor little rich boy."

  He bit his lip to keep from smiling at the intended barb. "I'm not. It all ties in."

  "This isn't going to turn into another three day tomato lecture, is it? Because if it is..."

  He threw his head back and really laughed for the first time in days. "No. I swear. I won't tell you the first detail on how to grow anything. This is more of a business discussion."

  She let out a deep sigh. "Fine. But you've been warned."

  "Duly noted. Now, how and agro share works is this..."

  Tenet spent the next hour explaining the details of a business Scarab never cared to look into before. In her mind, the government assigned people crops and they grew them. That was her first misconception. They assigned people to a league first. From there, the league elected the leaders of the different share properties. Those leaders were then responsible for everyone else assigned to that property, from the second in command all the way down to the person responsible for bringing water to the fields at appointed times for breaks. And yes, there was someone specifically for that task.

  As leaders, Tenet's family was not allowed to pass the buck. If anything went wrong, they needed to answer to the particular league. "Say we have locusts, and we were not careful enough to gather the information on the seasonal locust path and didn't take the proper precautions. If the locusts cleaned out the crop, we personally would owe the league their profit for the lost crops. If they deemed it gross negligence, then the league would have a vote to elect a new leader for that share and we'd be out on our asses. Well, not us personally because my father being who he is..." He didn't need to finish that thought. As Exalted Leader, his father was above the law.

  But, most weren't, and it wasn't something Scarab ever considered. She figured the heads of the different shares sat on their fat asses and drove their people, people who amounted to little more than slaves when you got right down to it, to the breaking point just to make a buck. She said as much, only in a nicer way, and Tenet balked before explaining.

  "First, they aren't slaves. We don't allow slavery and you know that."

  "I'm sorry, but when someone else tells you what you can and cannot do and you've got no choice in the matter, that's slavery."

  He could see her point of view. "Then we're all slaves, because I didn't have any more say in it than anyone else. And I guarantee, the people in the big houses overseeing carry even more burden than those in the fields. If you are in the field and you do your job, then you get to go home at the end of the day and enjoy your life. You get food provided to you, schooling for your children. You're allowed to marry whoever you want in your caste. Hell, you can even try for a higher caste if you think you're pretty enough." That made Scarab smile. "My point is, that while they're out living a life, those in the big fancy houses spend many nights working and worrying and hoping they're good enough to give that life to everyone under them. There are many different kinds of work, Scarab. Just because my father wasn't getting dirt on his hands didn't mean he wasn't exhausted at the end of the day. He's a bastard, sure, but a hard working one." Scarab had to admit that she saw his point.

  "Now that you have some background on the basic ways it works, let's get back to what we started talking about. Healing. Doctors. The lot. Yes, we have hospitals and doctors. They're extremely expensive." He held a hand up when she opened her mouth. "I'm not saying the leaders of the shares intentionally give their workers sub-par treatment. I'm saying, most can't even afford the fancy doctors for themselves. Govers get the doctors. Regular people, including most share leaders, get healers for the majority of their health care. And most healers can handle the bulk of problems. Only the most serious conditions get the average person into a hospital, and only if it's deemed a redeemable case."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means projected survival rate of longer than five years."

  Scarab felt morally outraged without even
knowing if she should. The logical side of her brain said it made sense to conserve the resources for those who would not only get the most benefits from them, but turn around and benefit the community as well. If someone's life was a trouble or a burden on the others, then patching them up temporarily was just a waste. It made complete sense. She herself had never even seen a hospital and she did just fine. Still, when Tenet's asshole of a father got all the medical care he could handle while the kind men and good women in the fields had to make do, it just didn't set right inside and she couldn't help the rage of injustice.

  Tenet saw the play of emotions on her face and knew what she was thinking. "We tried our best to provide the very top healers, Scarab. Don't think for one second I would stand by and let my family turn their backs on someone who needed healing."

  "But others do," she said.

  "Yes," he admitted. There were many share leaders who skimped on that responsibility. There were many league heads that could be paid to look the other way. He was trying to put the best spin on it as possible for Scarab, but the cold truth was that his plantation had been a standout for their firm stance on equal health care regardless of caste. "My mother wouldn't let that happen on our land."

  "If your mother wasn't there, would your father?"

  He gave a shrug, but they both knew the truth. "When my mother married my father, he turned that portion of control over to her since she was from a village that had a reputation for excellence in training healers. And she's good. Really good. She sees to many cases herself."

  "So that's why you've got a knack."

  Tenet snorted. "Actually, according to her I make a horrible healer and would have had many more pleasant afternoons if I'd simply given up trying." His voice was lighthearted enough, and maybe someone else would have taken it as the joke he attempted to make it. Scarab knew better.

  "You patched me up just fine," she pointed out quietly.

  "Yes. Well." He cleared his throat, emotion clogging his voice. "If my mother had handled the case, I doubt you'd have a scar at all. What I lack in talent, though, I make up for in desire. I want to heal people. I like to heal people. At the Academy, all my idiot classmates who fooled around with weapons behind the teachers' backs would come to me to fix them up. I got myself a reputation for making a wound heal before the headmaster could smell the blood. That's something, I suppose."

  "That's a lot," she said, defensive on his behalf. "I'm sure your skills will be welcomed in the Borderlands."

  He appreciated her defense of him more than he could say. "We'll see when we get there, see if there's a need."

  "Need or not, if you want to be a healer, that's what you'll be." She was firm on that.

  "I've been giving it a lot of thought. It doesn't matter what we want to be, we've got to be what they want. You said they want couples, so we're a couple. If we can figure out what they need beyond that, they'll be more willing to accept us."

  Scarab hadn't really thought of that. They walked for a few minutes while she mulled it over, her trepidation growing with every step. He was right. They had to be an attractive addition to the fray, and that meant skills. He could farm, he could heal. He could also be a leader, which was evident just from speaking with him. He was adept with weaponry having been trained in the military arts at the nation's top academy, but just as capable at domestic jobs. He was an attractive addition to any community, no matter what he chose to be.

  And she? What was she?

  Scarab couldn't cook for a damn. She couldn't farm. She could hunt, but that was only a personal need. Communities relied on ranchers for their meat. She had no idea how to raise any animals, only how to kill and clean them. She had only the basics of education, and while she always enjoyed learning more, she never saw to take it beyond personal interest. Her whole life was spent intentionally not being part of anything, not being tied to anyone or anything, not contributing. She made it her goal to be utterly alone in every sense. What was she? A cast out. A scrap. Useless.

  For the first time, Scarab hated her new life. She hated the choice that lead her here. She had never before felt valueless. Angry? Yes. Alone? Sure. Unwanted? Of course. But never without merit. Never insecure. Never weak. Never less than anyone else. She hated the fact that she wanted to crawl in a hole and hide.

  Tenet was oblivious to her inner turmoil. "So if they need a healer, then I'd be more than happy to fill that role. What about you?"

  "What?" she asked, trying to swallow the panicked feeling clawing inside her.

  "What do you want to be?"

  What could she possibly say to that?

  When she didn't answer, Tenet glanced over and saw her pale face. "Hey. You okay?"

  "Yes," she snapped, turning away and pushing forward.

  He sighed heavily. "Here we go again," he muttered.

  Scarab spun back around. She needed to yell. A fight would make her feel better, feel more secure. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" she all but bellowed.

  Tenet put his hands on his hips. "It means I'm getting really damn sick of that switch that keeps flipping, that's what it means!"

  "Oh yeah? And what switch is that?"

  "The bitch switch." It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it as the words were too far in the making to be stopped. His eyes went wide at her murderous expression. "I didn't mean to say that out loud," he said quickly.

  Scarab's mouth flapped open and shut. She could not believe he actually said the words. She picked the pace up, too incensed to pay attention to the careful stomping. When she stumbled she felt his hand on her elbow and tried to shake it. "Get your hands off me or so help me god I'll..."

  "Yeah, yeah," he said. "You'll kick my ass or cut off my balls or whatever. I know the routine. But if you don't slow down we'll be another three days on our asses, this time with you in the patient chair. And trust me, I do not want to have you as a patient again."

  "I wasn't a bad patient," she said in a voice dangerously close to a pout. She mentally kicked herself. She tugged her arm again, but he wouldn't let go.

  "Stop running. I'm sorry I called you a bitch. But be honest now, what would you call you? Hm?" He didn't give her time to answer. "I am sick of walking on eggshells. It's like you lay these personal land mines and don't tell me what's going to set them off. We were talking about me being a healer one second, and bam! Blew up in my face the next and you stormed off in a huff."

  It was true. She couldn't deny it, and didn't even try. "It had nothing to do with you," she admitted. She tugged again and he let her elbow go.

  "If it didn't have anything to do with me, what was it about?"

  "It's none of your business." She knew she sounded childish but couldn't stop herself.

  "Let me see if I've got this straight. We can be having a downright pleasant discussion, I can say something completely innocuous, and you are going to completely flip out and treat me like shit. But it has nothing to do with me. And it's not my business." Tenet ran a hand through his hair and let out a bitter laugh. "I just figured it out! You're insane. You are clinically insane."

  She wasn't insane, she was alone. She wanted to shake him and scream at him and cry. She had no idea how to tell him what she was feeling. Why didn't he get that? Why didn't he understand that she couldn't afford that level of vulnerability? She never shared. She couldn't. And even though she annoyingly wanted to with him, she didn't have the first idea how to start. He didn't even give her a chance to respond. He shifted his pack on his back and pushed past her.

  "I'll take the lead. You can stare at my angry ass for once!"

  They traveled in silence until they hit a wide, slow river near evening. There were bushes, but not trees. A look around them said that was the best shelter they would get. Tenet walked away from the camp to look for wild food, while Scarab crawled under the bushes and pulled out old dead growth to make a safer place to sleep. When she was done, she was pleasantly surprised at how much room there was. She could s
it up comfortably, with the thorny leaves offering a cocoon of protection. She cleared enough to make room for their bedrolls, then stacked the dead growth in case Tenet found anything to cook on a fire.

  Scarab carefully picked her way down the soft river bank. She waded into the cool water, glad that the sun was so low on the horizon. The river bottom was muddy here, but the water was still clear. The mud felt good between her toes, and the cool water swirling around her legs called to her. She climbed back up and checked to see where Tenet was. He was a good distance off, his head bent towards the ground where he scavenged. She thought for a quick second, then made up her mind to take a hasty bath. After the long, horrible day, it would feel like heaven.

  She quickly stripped and jumped in, coming up halfway across the creek. It wasn't very deep, but it was soothingly cool and she floated for a little before she stood to lean back and really give her sweaty, dirty hair a good rinse. She was massaging her scalp, freeing up the mud that was no doubt caked there when something pinched her toe hard. She gave a startled yell and leaped for the edge of the river. She scrambled up the mud bank until she was good and clear of the water, then looked down at her toe. Some kind of creature had a claw clamped there and she reached down and yanked it off. She was about to toss the little bugger when a memory hit. Crayfish! It was a crayfish. Her father used to pull them by the dozens out of the river near her home in the summer and they'd eat them.

  "You're gonna pay for that with your life, little mud bug," she said smugly.

  She turned to head back to camp and get a pot. Where there was one crayfish, there were more. They'd eat a good dinner that night! She took two steps before she remembered her clothes. As she went to turn around to get them, Tenet's stunned expression caught her attention.

  "We're eating crayfish tonight," she said with a grin. Her grin slowly faded when Tenet just stared, his eyes wide and his mouth open. A breeze kicked up and she shivered and remembered her clothes. She had no clothes! And Tenet just stood there, staring. She felt her whole body go red with embarrassment, and he just stood there, gaping. "What are you doing here!" she demanded.

  "I heard you yell and thought you were in trouble," he said quickly.

  "I was just taking a bath. Can't I bathe in peace without you gawking?" She turned and gathered up her clothes, trying to get them on over her wet skin.

  "I wasn't gawking! I just came to help."

  "I don't need help!"

  "Then why did you scream?"

  "Because it really fricken hurts when a crayfish clamps on your toe!"

  "What in the hell is a crayfish?"

  "This!" She waved the little critter back and forth.

  "Why are we yelling?" he yelled at her.

  "I don't know!" she yelled right back.

  They stared at each other for a few seconds before Tenet burst out laughing. While her humiliation wanted her to hate him forever, she couldn't ignore the absolute absurdity of the situation and started laughing with him. "It's not funny," she insisted, trying to keep her lips in a firm line.

  "The look...on your face...was priceless," he said between laughs. He had a hand full of little eggs, and rummaged in his pack with one hand for a cup. He put the eggs in safety, then got the pot out. "Put that thing in here before it pinches you again."

  She dropped it in the pan with a plunk, then pulled her other arm through the sleeve of her shirt. Her hair was dripping wet and plastered to her head, so she gave her head a shake then slicked back the hair with her fingers. She wiped her face on her sleeve and gave another chuckle. "Well. That bath turned interesting."

  Tenet gave her a lazy smile that hammered home the intimacy of the whole deal, making her heart speed up. He quickly looked at the crayfish in the pan, but she didn't miss the heated look in his eyes. "We're actually going to eat this thing?"

  "Yeah. Him and some of his buddies," she said, glad to change the subject. "We just have to get them out."

  He put a hand up. "I'm not sacrificing my toes just so you can eat bugs. I'm happy with eggs."

  "These bugs taste amazing. And you won't have to sacrifice your toes, you big baby." She grabbed up some of the dead growth from the bushes. It had been years and years since she helped her father make crayfish traps, but the old skill came back to her fairly quickly. She needed to make a mesh scoop to dredge the bottom of the river. "We have any more thread?" she asked, curving the branches to make the basic shape.

  He dug in the medical kit and came up with the thread. "Not a lot."

  "I don't need a lot. Just a couple pieces to tie the ends together." He handed it over and watched as she made a sort of net with the dead branches. It was clear she knew what she was doing, even though she stopped for thought once in awhile before making up her mind and plowing forward. She made the first net, then took about half the amount of time to make another.

  "You're good at that," Tenet said. Though he didn't really mean it as a test, as soon as the words were out, he knew it sort of was. Either she started opening up and letting him in, or they were bound to have a lifetime on the same uneven emotional ground. He spent a miserable day being pissed at her. He didn't want to be pissed, he wanted to know her.

  "Thanks," Scarab said. She stood and handed him one of the nets. He was looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. She almost left it there, fear suddenly creeping up. Just open your mouth and say something, her little voice inside instructed. "I...I used to help get crayfish from the river by my parents' house." It wasn't as difficult as she though, this sharing concept. She felt her face flush, for some reason embarrassed, but had to admit it wasn't really that hard after all. "Follow my lead and we'll have a good dinner."

  Her rushed words let him know not to push further. Frankly, he was surprised she said that much. He followed her down the bank. She told him to roll his pants to wade in, but he wasn't kidding about refusing to sacrifice his toes. She told him to stay on the bank if he was such a big baby, but to copy what she was doing.

  Scarab dipped her net in, leaning over to scrape the bottom. "You want to get through the very top layer of mud. They'll be right under. Look!" she said, pointing. "I can see one!"

  Tenet couldn't see the one she was pointing at, but turned to stare at the bottom near him. After a few seconds, he saw something moving. He couldn't tell what it was and wasn't about to go randomly snatching a potential enemy. "What if it's not a crayfish?"

  She waded to the edge and tossed a large crayfish into the pot with the other. The two instantly began snapping at each other. "Then you'll have yourself a nice surprise, won't you?" She gave him a grin, then turned back to wade out again, unaware at how her smile had affected him.

  He couldn't stop the picture of her standing there naked and wet like some river goddess flashing through his mind.

  "I'm two up on you already," she said.

  He gave his head a little shake and stared back down into the water. Right. Dinner. He eased his net into the water and held his breath as he scooped up the mystery critter. It was a crayfish, alright. "Got one!"

  Tenet was waving it over his head, a grin a mile wide on his face. "Stop waving it around before you drop it! Get it in the pot with the others." She was smiling, though. His excitement was infectious.

  "Did you see those eggs I got?"

  "Yeah. We'll eat like kings for sure tonight."

  "We'll need a fire. Can we risk it?"

  Scarab nodded. "I can see for miles in all directions and haven't noticed anything dangerous. I'll dig it into the bank so we can put it out quickly if we have to." She glanced at the sky. "We'll have to hurry. Looks like bad weather tonight."

  Tenet supposed he couldn't complain. Sheer luck had seen them safe from much rain, save one damp afternoon. He scooped back in the water, trying to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. It was impossible when Scarab would move in the water, making the swirling noise around her bare calf. He was sorry he'd missed seeing her whole bath. He'd just have to kee
p a closer watch next time so he wouldn't miss it. The thought made his heart quicken and he bit his lip to keep from showing just how much he liked that idea.

  Scarab caught three more crayfish, but he didn't catch any. "Six will be enough with the eggs," she said. "I'll get the fire built, you do the cooking."

  "Actually, a bath doesn't sound like a half bad idea."

  "Our agreement was that you cook," she said, trying not to think of Tenet naked, swimming right next to camp.

  "I'll take a quick bath while you build the fire." At her rolled eyes, he laughed. "Hey, you started it. Blame yourself for planting the idea of a bath in my head." Her face turned red and he knew he won. Whistling to himself, he carried the pot up the banking and set it near their packs. He got out clean clothes and a razor. "I'll be just up around the bend," he called.

  "Hurry it up. These things won't cook themselves," came her snapped reply.

  Tenet didn't dawdle. While he felt pretty confident the area they camped near was now free of crayfish, he knew crayfish weren't the only potential enemies on the banks of a river. He stripped, jumped in, and scrubbed with determined vigor, then sat on the edge to shave, letting the evening breeze dry him. He looked at his reflection in the water. His hair was far too long, but at least it was clean now. He nicked himself a little shaving, but overall not bad. He looked more like himself than he had in seven weeks.

  And yet, in some ways, he didn't look the same at all. Tenet felt so different and he was almost surprised to see that shine back in his reflection. He wondered if other people could see it, or if it was only him. He wondered if she could see the changes in him. He hoped so. He dressed quickly and headed back to camp to cook their dinner.

  Scarab did most of the cooking. It turned out that Tenet had no idea what to do with the crayfish, a fact they would have thought of earlier if they weren't both so distracted by the long tumultuous day. She boiled the crayfish in the water, tossing the eggs in with it. Tenet made himself useful by gathering some wild herbs he saw near the river and tossing them in the pot. After about fifteen minutes, she declared dinner ready and drained off the water.

  "Now, this part is what you eat," she said, pulling the tail apart from the rest of the body. "Give this a little suck, then toss it," she said, launching the head over her shoulder towards the river.

  "Do I have to toss it with such flair?" he asked with that lazy smile she was beginning to look forward to. It was even more devastating with him clean shaved.

  "Only if you want to do it right," she insisted.

  He gave it a try. The head-sucking part of eating the crayfish wasn't the greatest experience, and the meat was chewy. But he had to admit it had a nice taste. Very sweet, something he wasn't expecting. "Maybe we should be crayfish farmers," he said. "I think I could handle killing and eating these again."

  Scarab gave an easy laugh and rolled one of the small eggs between her hands to crack the soft shell. "Did you see what birds these came from?"

  "Does it matter?"

  "No. You can eat any eggs as long as they're not fertilized."

  His eyes went wide. "How do you know if they are?"

  "Because a bird will be sitting right on top of them."

  "Oh."

  She showed him the little peeled egg, then bit into it so he could see the yolk. "See? No baby birdies. Mm. These are good. Fork over another one."

  They ate their feast with more friendly banter until a crack of thunder ended the meal early. "Into the bushes," she said, grabbing the pot.

  Tenet dove for the bushes and Scarab followed just as they heard the roar of the downpour start. "Shit the packs!" He pushed back out into the rain and dragged the already damp packs into the relative safety of their little bush lair. "That came up fast."

  "You're soaked again," she said.

  He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Guess neither of us really needed a bath. If we waited a couple hours, we would have gotten a fresh shower!" The laughter died in his throat as the image of her standing on the river bank once again filled his mind.

  Even though it was almost full dark in their makeshift home, Scarab didn't miss the shift in Tenet's expression. "Don't do that," she whispered in panic before she could stop herself.

  He was thoroughly confused. "Do what? I'm only sitting here."

  "No. Don't look at me like that."

  Tenet glanced away quickly, his face on fire. She caught him out. How the hell did she do that? How was it that she could always tell what he was thinking, while he couldn't do the same with her? The lighthearted mood of their hard-earned dinner evaporated just like that, leaving them once again fidgeting in uncomfortable silence.

  Scarab picked another egg out of the pot, but didn't even get it peeled before she realized she was no longer hungry. "You want any more?" she asked quietly.

  "Yes I do." He took the pot out of her hands and shoved it aside. He scooted closer so his knees almost touched hers, and he grabbed both of her hands in his. "I want an explanation. I want you to tell me why we can't go one frickin' day anymore without the...you-know-what switch being flipped. I want you to tell me what happened. One minute were we joking and laughing and diving for cover from the storm the best of friends, and the next you ice me out."

  Tenet wanted an answer and she couldn't give one. He was too close and Scarab went to pull away.

  "No!" he yelled, startling them both. He dropped her hands, suddenly afraid of losing control. He took a shaky breath. "No," he said more calmly. "We're going to sit here and talk this out. I can't go through my days wondering what it is I'm saying and doing that gets you so pissed off."

  "I'm not pissed," she blurted.

  Tenet scoffed. "Then you have a weird way of showing it, wife."

  "Don't call me that."

  "Why? You're my wife."

  "No."

  "Yes!" He wanted to jump up and stomp his foot, but the best he could do in the cramped little hovel was pound his fist on the ground. "You're my wife, I'm your husband. That's flat out fact."

  The familiar bubble of frustration at her own inability to say what she meant and felt pushed inside her chest like a physical force building to explosion. Tears pricked her eyes and made her feel even more miserable. She hated tears. She spent a lot of years learning how to keep them at bay, and yet, here they were.

  He could see the emotions play across her face. Usually, she was so composed, even in anger. Usually, he had to study her very hard to maybe, maybe catch a quick flicker in her eyes. In spite of the discomfort of the situation, he couldn't help but feel excited at the real emotion she was showing.

  "Stop looking at me like that!" she yelled, her voice cracking with panic.

  "Like what?"

  Scarab's heart was pounding and her hands began to shake, but his soft, pleading voice cracked her carefully built wall. "Like you...like you want to do...things..." Scarab hated that she sounded so weak, so fragile. She wanted to get up and run and go shoot something or hunt some bastard and take it out on him, anything to get her out of the close darkness.

  It took Tenet a few seconds for her words to sink in. When they did, he slumped back, stunned. "That's what this is all about?" The only sound was the pounding rain in the thick leaves above them. A crack of thunder ripped through the air, but neither seemed to notice. Long minutes ticked by while each of them fought secret inner battles. For Tenet, Scarab's words about knowing the signs of a monster after that ex-Con member attacked finally clicked. He couldn't believe he didn't get it before. He felt a rage and pain build in him that he'd never felt before and took several minutes to calm. He didn't want her to think he was in any way angry at her. He was angry for her. He doubted she'd know the difference.

  Scarab sat with her fists clenched, trying to focus on the feeling of the nails digging into her palm, and searched for a way to set things back to right. She shouldn't have blurted that out. She should have taken control of the situation before then, kept herself in ch
eck. She had to think of him as her bounty and put space between them. For the first time in her life, though, she had absolutely no idea how to do that. She couldn't take back what was said. She broke her rule of keeping everything inside and now she didn't know how to undo the damage. So she sat and waited to see what he'd say. Maybe that would give her a clue.

  When he could speak, Tenet's voice was soft, but firm. "Yes," he admitted. "I do want to do things." He could almost feel her shock, an electricity that filled the small space. "But I want to do them with you, not to you. Do you understand the difference?" It was so dark by then that Scarab could only see his shadowy outline from across the space. She tried to judge what he was saying by his expression, but it was simply too dark to do so. Before she could come up with any kind of response, he moved closer, directly in front and she could see his intense gaze. "Do you think I would hurt you?"

  "I..." she began.

  "Do you?" His voice was almost desperate.

  "I don't even know you."

  He laughed. "You're kidding me, right? What shoe size do I wear?"

  "Thirteen," she answered automatically, then frowned. "That doesn't mean anything."

  "Yes, it really does. I doubt my mother even knows my shoe size."

  The absurd had somehow passed into outright insanity and Scarab shook her head. "And I'm the crazy one. What in the hell does shoe size have to do with anything?"

  "You know me, Scarab. You know me better than anyone in my entire life ever has."

  His honest words made her feel sad. All that money, all that status, a fancy house and servants, in spite of what he called them, waiting on him hand and foot, and every comfort at his control. And he was just like her underneath it all.

  "Do you think I would ever hurt you?" He repeated in earnest. "That I ever could?"

  "No." Her answer was sure.

  He sighed with relief and Scarab could feel his smile. "Then there's hope for us yet."

  His tone annoyed her and she scoffed. Nothing was settled. In fact, she felt even more mixed up than before. Tenet just laughed at her scoff, irritating her further. She turned in a huff, but he held her arm.

  "I'm amending the marriage contract."

  "No."

  He laughed again. "You don't even know what I'm going to propose."

  She sighed. "Fine."

  "I want to know you, Scarab. I want to know you as well as you know me."

  The thought was both appealing and terrifying. "You know me well enough."

  "No, I don't. We're married." He held her firmly when she went to turn away again. Not hurting, not even putting that much pressure. Just enough to let her know he wanted to be heard. "And while I want to do things with you," he stressed again, "that's secondary. First, I just want you to let me get to know you. I want to know what it is I do that pisses you off. I want to know if there's anything I do that makes you happy."

  "There is," she blurted out.

  Tenet felt buoyant inside. Her admission was far more than he could have hoped for. He couldn't push, though, and didn't. "I want to know what you like to eat, what you want to be, who you are. I want to know your past..."

  "No," she said firmly. There were some things she would not budge on.

  "And I want to know what you see for our future," he continued smoothly, as if she hadn't said anything at all. "I just want to know you. So my amendment is twofold. First, I think I deserve to know when I'm pissing you off and why."

  She gave a snort, but had to admit to herself he had a point. "What's the second part?"

  "That if you can't talk about it, you'll at least tell me that much."

  His consideration almost stunned her. Tenet knew far more about her than she realized. He let her arm go, then held his hand out waiting for her to shake. Scarab hesitated, knowing full well she'd regret the amendment. It was too close, too personal. And so annoyingly reasonable. She grudgingly put her hand in his. "Fine," she muttered.

  "Why did you get so angry with me earlier when I asked you what you wanted to do when we reach the Borderlands?"

  Boy, he didn't waste any time taking advantage of the latest addition to the contract, did he? "I can't talk about it," she said, testing him.

  He pressed his lips together and frowned. "Damnit. I shouldn't have added that second part." His voice held humor, though.

  "You suck at writing contracts," she said, seizing his humor and trying to get them back on comfortable ground.

  "That I do. Fine, we'll skip that question for now. But you can bet I'm going to ask it again. One of these days, you'll answer."

  Oh would she, now? Scarab crossed her arms over her chest and assessed this new overly confident man sitting in front of her. Cocky, that's how he looked. She would out-stubborn him. The wind whipped up, shaking their little shelter and causing a smattering of rain drops to plop on them. Tenet scooted over to sit with Scarab where the cover was thicker. She didn't pull away, and he knew something had been settled.

  "I hope our roof holds through the night."

  "It was the best I could do," Scarab said defensively.

  "Don't take offense," he said, shaking the water off his blanket and wrapping it over their shoulders. He felt her wariness, but she still didn't pull away. When all he did was put his arm around her and share warmth, she slowly relaxed. "I think it's a fine house, wife."

  Her face burned, but it was too dark for him to see. It was a test she was determined to pass, and she forced her tense body to relax. He would never lift a hand to her in anger, and she'd known that from the start. Besides, she could easily take him out if he ever went off the deep end and got it in his mind to try. That was never the issue. The issue was his breaking down of her carefully constructed wall of steel, and her inability to see any way to stop it. Distance didn't work. It couldn't work, not when it had made her day just as miserable as his. It was time to try things his way. At least it was warm and dry under the blanket with him. And so very comfortable.

  They sat in a friendly silence for a long time, listening to the rain and wind pound the world outside their little bubble. Scarab yawned and almost started to doze when Tenet's laugh broke through their reverie.

  "What's so funny?"

  She felt Tenet shake his head. "I was just thinking about what Mother would say to all of this," he said.

  Scarab frowned into the dark. "And that's funny?"

  He sighed and gave her a little squeeze. "Yes, in a sad, ironic sort of way. You are not exactly the wife they would have chosen for me."

  She didn't know why she should feel offended, since it was true. But the words still stung, and she snapped at him. "They didn't choose a wife for you at all." She instantly regretted lashing out. "I'm sorry."

  "No, don't be." His voice no longer held any humor, just a sad acceptance. "It's not exactly true, but it's close enough. The choice isn't really up to the families of the males, but since they didn't champion me early enough, no one stepped forward to request a match. Semantics, I guess. I wasn't picked up by anyone yet, and they didn't really seem to care one way or another." He cleared his throat, the memories of the dozens of intention announcement parties he'd been to on behalf of all his friends and classmates swamping his mind. He rarely let himself wonder why. Or, more accurately, why not.

  "I'm sorry," she said again, wondering why it was so hard to figure out what to say or do. She felt his shrug.

  "Saved me from the same fate as my father, I suppose. There is that." His parents' marriage, like so many others in his caste, was at best a joke and at worst a travesty. "I couldn't imagine loving someone so much one minute and then hating her the next, and knowing that it was forever."

  "They could divorce."

  He scoffed. "And break the unspoken laws of the rich and famous?" The raw pain of his mocking tone was as close to bitterness as Scarab ever heard from Tenet, and she found herself putting her arm across his chest and squeezing him back. "No. They'll never get divorced. That just does
n't happen for people as high up the food chain as my parents. They will continue to pretend to be happy and perfect in the public, and in private..." His words cut off suddenly. "It's just a different story." Of pain, screaming, accusations, cheating...with two children caught in the hateful tug of war.

  Scarab once again felt inadequate. She should know what to say, or do. She should know more about people to be able to give him what he needed, to have a clue what that might be. And yet, she didn't. She just sat holding him awkwardly, wishing she had paid better attention to Hark and Enna. "It's better than..." she began, then clammed up. She swallowed hard and made herself continue. "It's better than loving someone so blindly you end up hurting everyone else."

  Tenet knew she was talking about her own parents. The hand that had been idly rubbing her upper arm stopped and he held his breath, wondering if she would continue. She didn't, but he was grateful for any confidence in him at all. "I guess we both escaped, hm?" He began rubbing her arm lightly again.

  "If I was betrothed," he said at length, "Then it would be years before I actually wed. Most boys are championed by their families as soon as they're a year old."

  "You're sold as babies?"

  It wasn't too far from the truth. "Well, not sold, really," he protested, still feeling the need to defend a life that was getting harder and harder to see in a friendly light. "Championed. It's not really up to the males, since there is a disproportionate number of boys to girls. The girls, they hold all the power. The sons have to be bragged about, loudly and early on if they stand a chance at gaining an offer of marriage from the girls' family."

  "But to be engaged as babies..." Scarab shook her head. "It's insane."

  She felt Tenet's chuckle rumble through his chest under her cheek. "They don't get engaged as babies. That's only the beginning of the process. The seeds get planted, so to speak."

  "Ugh. More tomato analogies."

  He laughed outright and squeezed her closer. She was surprised to find herself grinning along with him. "Last one. I promise. What I mean is that..."

  "I know what you meant. I was just teasing."

  Tenet really wished he could rush things with her. He wished she was ready for more. In that moment, when she admitted to teasing him, joining him in lighthearted silliness, he wanted her. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his voice from betraying the feelings he knew she wasn't even close to ready to address. "The parents dress the boys up in finery and make sure they are seen everywhere looking and acting perfect. It's to get the girls' parents to take notice, and then they spend a good ten to fifteen years making sure they keep those parents noticing."

  "How?"

  "Education. Military accomplishments. Your name must be in the paper for getting awards or accommodations or top marks, or so help me God, young man, there will be hell to pay!" During the speech he changed his voice to match that of a stern father.

  "Sounds..."

  "Oppressive," he butted in quickly. "Demanding. And, of course, since the pressure is so high, there never really is any way to please any parties involved until the girls' family chooses and steps forward to request the first dowry installment. After that, for that one boy chosen, life is allowed to calm down somewhat. But he still must appear in public to impress his intended. Nothing's final until the last payment right before the ceremony. I've had many friends cut out of a deal at the last minute." He sighed. "Poor Jiti Ton." He shook his head. "Anyway, start to finish, first dowry payment to last, is about a fifteen year courtship. Now, there have been ones that started later and lasted a shorter period of time. But those, those are simply scandalous, don't you know," he said, this time in his best Mother impression. "Truly, how will they ever find a proper place in society when they begin a life together steeped in shame and supposition?"

  Scarab laughed at his falsetto. "That's awful."

  "It is," Tenet agreed. "I mean, I guess it is. My friends never complained, though. At least they had been chosen."

  She couldn't believe no one chose him. "I'm sure you had some interested in you."

  He shrugged. "To be honest, I didn't really help myself out. Yes, I jumped through the hoops. But I much preferred to talk to the staff at parties, or wander in gardens by myself than perform a dance or recite a ballad. There's a certain level of self-championship that's necessary, and I just didn't feel like playing."

  It was an interesting look into Tenet that Scarab didn't expect. "You never saw anyone you wanted to impress?"

  "At those parties? No."

  She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You are such a liar."

  He had to laugh at that. "Honest. They just...none of them were worth my time." He groaned at himself. "God, that sounded conceited, didn't it?"

  "No. Not at all," she said dryly.

  He grinned into the dark. "I'm just being honest. Not one of them I was introduced to interested me on any level. At teas, the dumb ones would talk about dresses and parties, the smart ones would rant and rave about the difficulties of being in charge of a plantation. You'd think one or the other would pique my curiosity, but no. I didn't want to talk about stupid clothes and parties, and I lived every day with a deeper knowledge of the hardships of running a plantation."

  "So what did you want?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. Something different."

  Scarab's eyes went wide at a thought. "Were you hoping for a male connection?" She didn't realize she was holding her breath until he finally answered.

  "No." It took him awhile to answer simply because he couldn't believe even after his admission that he wanted her, she'd still be able to think something like that. "No, I didn't want a male connection," he repeated again firmly. "My interests definitely run toward the female sector. Have no fear, wife. I've got no plans on cheating on you with the farm boys."

  Scarab made an outraged little squawk. "I didn't...I wasn't...I just asked. Look at the facts and..."

  "Calm down, wife. I was just trying to interject a little humor into what is a very touchy subject for me."

  "Oh."

  "You aren't the only one that has things about your past you'd rather not remember." The night of idle curiosity, so common in a society where men outnumbered women three to one, flashed through his head. It was the most humiliating, gut wrenching night of his life. What was curiosity for him turned out to be the culmination of a dream for Maven, a boy he only thought of as a friend. Maven's pleading, the pain in the boy's voice when he realized it just wouldn't work out, the awkward silence only broken by bitter sobbing... It was made all the worse when he had to admit to himself that he intentionally hurt his friend. He knew Maven's desires, even if he underestimated how much Maven felt for him personally. He knew it wasn't mere curiosity for the other boy. He took something Maven offered in sincerity, and he took it as a joke. A trial. A way to pass a bored night. He never felt so much like his father's son as he did that night, and that fact ate at him for years.

  He cleared his throat. "I guess I'm just a snobby, picky bastard." He tried to make his voice happy and upbeat.

  Scarab wasn't buying it, and wondered if she should push. It intrigued her that she managed to find the one subject the normally unflappable Tenet didn't instantly rebound from. Through all the shit they'd already gone through, to his easy acceptance of what was yet to come, he took everything in and simply processed it and moved on. His father wanted him dead? No biggie. He was an ass anyway. His mother didn't stop it? Well, mothers can be like that. Best just to move on. Eat meat? Actually kill and animal when his entire life taught him animals were sacred? If that's what he must...

  Nothing bothered Tenet. Nothing ate at him. Far from the instant perception of a spoiled brat who was simply out to embarrasses a powerful family for the sake of rebellion, he was actually the most calm, level headed, stable person she ever met. He was naive on certain levels, true. And it would probably always be impossible for him to see the bad side of humanity. But he took life. He didn't fight it. He didn't rail
against it. He didn't stomp his foot and complain about the unfairness. He took it. He learned from his mistakes, but, most importantly, he simply accepted the mistakes of others. He swallowed all the crap that was heaped on him and got ready for more.

  It pleased Scarab to know that perhaps Tenet wasn't as perfect as she thought. She wanted to know what it was that made him squirm uncomfortably with this discussion. What happened? What did he do? Just what was it that made Tenet beat himself up so badly? She was desperate to know, and almost asked, almost pushed.

  "We should get some sleep while we can," he said quietly, and her moment to ask had passed. She followed his lead and twisted and stretched out on her blanket. He covered them, then shocked her by pulling her close to him.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "Holding you. Shh. Sleep."

  Her heart was racing. "You...you don't have to hold me."

  "No, but I want to." His arm tightened slightly around her. "You didn't mind when I was injured." She didn't think he noticed. He felt her stiffen in surprise and his chest rumbled with soft laughter again. "Sleep, wife," he whispered against her hair.

  If it wasn't so damned comfortable, so soothing with the rustle of rain in the thicket above, the soft sound of his breathing, the warm rise and fall of his chest against her back, she'd put him in his place good. But the day had been long and raw, and his arms really did fit around her like they were happy there. It didn't take long before she gave up trying to be annoyed, and fell into a deep sleep.