I like a great many things about Stay-see, even her odd little face. I pull her hood down to protect her head and then turn around to grab the poles of my sled. I test the heft of the sled and then begin to pull it along. Her weight on the sled is slight, unnoticeable. I am pleased that I am able to make the journey easier for her. “Speak if you need me to stop,” I call over my shoulder.
“Are you sure this is okay?” She sounds worried. “I can walk.”
I turn my head and mock growl at her. “You will not walk.”
A giggle escapes her, and it is the sweetest sound I have ever heard. I need to make her laugh more often.
I keepthe sled to the edge of the group, near the back with Aehako and his enormous sled, and the hunters who guard the rear and watch for stragglers. It is not that my load is too heavy, but rather that I prefer to be back here, on the fringes.
It feels almost as if I have Stay-see to myself this way.
We talk back and forth through the morning, about small things. We talk of the weather and the snow. We talk of the tooth Pacy has cutting through his little blue gums. We talk of my mother and father, and my sister, Farli. We talk of my brothers Zennek and Salukh, and Stay-see tells me all about their mates and Mar-layn’s kit. How Salukh courted Tee-fah-nee and she is now rounded with child. How Zennek and Mar-layn resonated mere days after us, but Mar-layn gave birth to her little Zalene nearly two hands of days prior to Pacy’s birth. Of the fact that two of the humans—Mah-dee and Li-lah—were not with them at all, but had come in another one of the spays-ship caves. Of how Hassen stole one sister away, only to end up taking the other as a pleasure-mate and then resonating to her days later. There is much to talk about, but we keep the conversation on others and not on our situation.
It is easier that way.
As we travel, snow continues to pour from the skies, and the day remains cold and dark. The kit fusses, and she nurses him off and on. He grows more irritable as the day goes on, and I can tell Stay-see grows tired. How she can carry him all day and not grow frustrated shows me how patient she is. My mother would happily take him for a few hours, and I make a mental note to ask her about it tomorrow. Perhaps I can give Stay-see time to take a nap during the day while we travel. I am lost inthought for a time, trying to figure out a way to bring my mother or my sister back to us so Pacy can?—
“Pashov!” Stay-see’s voice is full of terror.
I halt, dropping the sled handles into the snow, and turn around. “What? What is it?”
Stay-see presses a hand to her chest, her face as white as the bone-handles of the sled. “D-do we have to s-stay so close to the cliff?”
Eh? I look over to the side. We are skirting a low, narrow valley where the snow will be thicker. Instead of going through it, we are moving along the cliff’s edges. I am following the others as they leave a trail, and we naturally walk where the snow is less deep, usually along the top of a sloping hill. “You are safe, Stay-see. I will not let you fall.”
She bites her lip, and I am surprised to see her mouth is the same color as her square little teeth. All of the cheery pinkness is gone from her small face. “I’m scared,” she whispers.
I try not to frown with worry. “You wish me to go into the valley? It is dangerous in this weather.”
“I…no, I guess not.” She is breathing quick. Her eyes flick back and forth, and I realize she is panicking. “It’s just…do we have to be so high?”
Pacy wails, pulling at her braid, his little face screwing up with frustration. I know she is not herself when she raises a trembling hand to her mouth, and she keeps looking over at the valley below.
“Stay-see,” I say, my voice calm. “I will not let you and Pacy fall. This I promise.”
“I know. I just. I can’t. High. Really high.” Her words are quick and pulsing, her movements twitchy. I begin to worry that she will lose her grip on Pacy, who is already squirming. I pluck him from her lap, and his wet leathers slap against my arm. “He needs changing.”
“Yes. Of course.” She blinks rapidly, but her face is still bone-white. She cannot stop staring at the valley below.
I must get her away from this. “Stay-see.” I keep my voice calm. Is her fear of heights something I have forgotten? Am I a terrible mate because I am torturing her by bringing her this high? I eye the cliff, but this path is the best one, already rutted with the sleds that have gone before us. It will be quickest if I continue forward instead of taking her to fresh snow. “I am going to change Pacy’s leathers,” I tell her. “And then I am going to carry him for a while. You must calm down.”
“I’m calm,” she snaps, and sounds anything but. Her trembling hand goes to her brow. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be calm. I know it’s stupid. I just?—”
“No,” I tell her. Greatly daring, I reach out and brush my knuckles over her cheek. Her face is ice cold, but she looks up at me with big, glowing eyes and a frightened expression that makes my heart ache. “It is not stupid. You are frightened, but I am here. I will not let you fall.”
Her hand brushes over mine, and she rubs her cheek against my hand. I feel a surge move through my body—protective, possessive, and full of need. “I trust you,” she whispers.
I gaze down into her eyes and feel a connection to her. Something deep inside?—
“Why have you stopped moving?” Bek bellows, storming up to the side of our sled. He moves along the edge of the cliff, andplants his hands on the side of my sled. Stay-see jerks away with a whimper, and the moment is lost.
I want to snarl at Bek, but my anger at him will not bring the connection with Stay-see back. It is gone. “We need a moment.”
“Why? We are traveling. You can have many moments when we stop for the night.” Bek raises a spear, gesturing at the caravan of sleds far ahead of us. “You will lose sight of the group if you go any slower.”
“We need a moment,” I repeat, a low growl rumbling in my throat. I adjust my son on my arm. “Unless you wish to change my son’s leathers for him?”
Bek gives a constipated frown, then glares at me. “I do not think so.”
