“Unbearable to us means we are still alive,” Grixis says tersely. “Besides, we do not have to move in right away. This just ensures we are prepared when the time finally comes.”
Annoyance prickles me.
We have drawn closer to restoring our honor, yet all our chieftain cares about is those weak Penticari things, and most of all, Elena.
He has lost himself to madness.
“Perhaps we can build around it, resettling at the mouth,” Jacek adds.
Instead of arguing with them, I storm from The Tomb, willing my head to clear.
Yet my head remains muddled with thoughts of weak Asha.
Why did I share my exile with her? It is something I do not speak to my tribe about, so why her?
And how could it be that we share such history? Such dishonor? It seems unfathomable, yet I do not believe she lies.
My mind should not linger on lesser thoughts, lesser people, yet I find myself wondering about her life.
By her own admission, her mother was chosen for beauty and not strength. That beauty must have been passed down, as her features are agreeable when compared to the other maidens, and if she were not so weak, she could easily beguile many and more of the men.
A low growl rumbles in my chest at the thought of it, and my anger grows, for who am I to desire someone so weak?
Surely, I do not. It is her scent that confuses me. It is strong, more so than any of us are used to, as Tempest women smell only slightly.
I should hunt. With the Penticari now residing with us, we will go through food quicker, which could prove disastrous for us during the coming cold season, when food gets scarce.
Caen would probably welcome the distraction, as he loathes what the village has become, yet I cannot bring myself to seek him out.
Instead, I find myself walking toward my hut, where the Little Vaeyark is nesting in her weaves.
9
ASHA
Nori squints at the pool of threads, turning the basket they’re nestled in to view them from all angles.
“This…is…fascinating,” she says slowly, which is common when she’s investigating something.
Hailing from a family of lesser nobles, her line was held in high esteem by many, as their intelligence was known to predict the weather, where raiding parties would strike, the weaknesses of an army, and which marriages would be beneficial to the crown.
Her own grandfather had spoken against my father’s marriage to my mother, and he was banished from court for a time, only to be welcomed back when he was proven to be right, after the death of my mother.
Deciding her company is better than the quietness of the hut, I ask, “I’ve dyed a lot of thread in my day, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Have you?”
Nori turns to face me. “No, and I’d like to study it.”
“I’d give it to you, but I need it for my weaves.”
Nori frowns.
“You have to understand, I’m under a lot of pressure to finish the blankets and clothing Elena requested of me.”
She sniffs the air, scrunches her nose, and shakes her head before continuing, “Could you make it without this pool of thread? It is not even enough to weave a whole blanket.”
“With the cold season coming and Ramsey to contend with, every thread matters. Making more is arduous, and the color you have, made from those shells, will be useful for the birthing gift Grixis requested I weave for Elena.”
“But this isn’t natural to Penticar.” Nori shakes the basket. “And it must be studied.”
