"Fixing things," he repeated. "That is useful."
I waited for him to share something about himself, but he just turned to look out the window. The landscape was changing as we moved farther from the coast, less sand and scrub, more rocky foothills.
"What about you?" I finally prompted. "What should I know about you?"
"I guard the eastern boundary of the Navi territory. I have existed for twenty-eight of your years. I prefer silence to noise."
Well, that explained his conversational skills. Or lack thereof.
"What will I do there? In your home?" The word felt strange. Home had always been the crowded dormitory in the colony, the smell of salt and fish, the constant crash of waves.
"You will be my bound one. You will share my dwelling. Beyond that..." He made a movement that might have been a shrug. "You will find your place."
That was less than reassuring. "Do other humans live there? In the mountains?"
"A few. Bound ones, like you."
"Are they happy there?" My voice sounded small even to me.
Varkolak was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. "Happiness is not something we measure," he finally said. "But they live. They adapt."
They adapt. Not exactly the romantic future I'd secretly hoped for when I agreed to this arrangement. In my private fantasies, I'd imagined someone who would want me, choose me, not just accept me because some test said we were compatible.
As the vehicle climbed higher into the foothills, the first real tendrils of panic twisted in my stomach. What had I done? I'd left everything I knew, meager as it was, for this creature of shadow who barely spoke, whose world was utterly alien to me.
"Will I ever go back? To visit the colony?" I asked, hating the tremor in my voice.
"The binding is permanent. The eastern territories are your home now."
"But that doesn't mean I can't visit my old?—"
"It is not safe for you there anymore," he cut in. "Your physiology changes with the binding. The sea air would become toxic to you over time."
I stared at him in horror. "What? No one told me that! What else happens with this binding?"
Varkolak shifted, the shadows of his form rippling. "It is different for each human. Some develop sensitivity to light. Others find they need less sleep. A few gain minor abilities to manipulate shadow."
"And no one thought I should know this before the ceremony?" Anger flared, hot and sudden. "You all just decided to change my body without asking?"
"You consented to the binding," he said, confusion clear in his tone.
"I consented to a marriage, not to having my body altered!" I turned away, blinking back tears of frustration. "I didn't know what I was agreeing to."
The silence returned, heavier this time. Outside, the foothills had given way to steeper slopes. Trees appeared as gnarled, ancient things with silvery leaves that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Nothing about this world was familiar.
"I did not know you were uninformed," Varkolak finally said. "That was wrong of those who arranged this."
The admission surprised me. I glanced at him, finding those ember eyes studying me with what might have been concern.
"Does it hurt?" I asked, my anger giving way to fear. "These changes?"
"I am told it does not. It is gradual." A pause. "I will ensure you have what you need during the transition."
It wasn't much comfort, but it was something. I wiped away a stray tear with the back of my hand. "What about you? Do you change too?"
"In small ways. The binding creates balance. As you gain affinity for shadow, I gain resistance to light."
I studied him, trying to see beyond the darkness of his form. "So we change each other."
