Then I growled, turning away from her. I picked up my travel sack, filled with rations and furs for my journey.
Briefly, I hesitated, stilling on the threshold of myvoliki, but then I pushed through the flaps with a rough exhale. I didn’t look back at her because I knew if I did, I would never leave.
The icy morning air met me, embraced me. Not a single Dakkari was in sight. I collected Lokkas from thepyrokienclosure, saddling my travel sack, and then I swung up onto his back.
“Vir drak,” I murmured down to him once we reached the protective fence of my horde.
At my command, he raced through the gates.
At the last moment, I turned, searching for myvolikion the incline of my encampment. And I saw her. Standing just outside the entrance, in nothing but her boots and the fur blanket wrapped around her shoulders, watching me leave despite the cold. Even from there, I saw her shiver—yet her eyes never left me.
Longing rose in my chest, but I forced myself to turn forward in my seat, my eyes roaming the whitened landscape of my home planet. As harsh and unforgiving as it was during the cold season, I found it beautiful.
To Lokkas, I growled, “Vir drak ji Dothik.”
We ride forDothik.
Chapter Thirty
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The arrows connected, one right after another, into the makeshift target that mymitricrafted for me. I’d found it out on the training grounds one evening. He’d told me it was so I wouldn’t utterly destroy the flagpole.
It had been four days since Seerin left. My body had recovered and healed from the night before his departure, but I still ached for him. Everywhere. I thought about him too much, missed him too much, needed him too much.
I sighed, breathing hard as I stared at the arrows covering the target. I was growing used to the Dakkari bow, though it was much too large for my frame.
Odrii would usually be practicing with me, but he seemed to be avoiding me. I knew it was because of what had happened at the frost feast. I’d presented my goblet to Seerin and the horde king had accepted it.
Avuli had assured me that Odrii would get over it—that he was young and embarrassed. I felt partly responsible. I’d told the warrior that there was nothing between Seerin and I—which, at that point, had seemed like the truth to me—but I’d never revealed the extent of my feelings for theVorakkarto my friend. Perhaps Odrii had mistaken my friendship for something more and I should’ve made that distinction clearer.
Odrii wasn’t the only one wary of me, however. After Seerin had left forDothik, there was a strange atmosphere in the encampment whenever I walked around. No one seemed to meet my gaze anymore, except for Avuli, Arlah, and mymitri. Even thebikkuthat delivered my meals didn’t speak with me anymore. She simply inclined her head, dropped off the tray of food, and departed as quickly as she’d come.
I hadn’t voiced my worries to Avuli, who usually helped me understand the perplexing intricacies of Dakkari culture. Instead, I simply minded myself whenever I walked through the camp, hoping that by publicly conveying my interest in Seerin at the frost feast, I hadn’t inadvertently made myself an outcast.
The only place I found the quiet peace I craved was out on the training grounds at night. Though the cold froze my hands and cheeks, Ineededto be out there. A part of me knew it was also to look for Seerin.
I was just nocking my next arrow when my neck prickled and I realized that I was no longer alone. Footsteps approached the fence behind me and when I turned to look—hoping it was perhaps Odrii—I saw, to my surprise and hesitation, that it was Seerin’s second-in-command. Hispujerak, I believed he was called.
I’d seen him enough times with Seerin around the encampment to know that the two males were close. Not only was this male hispujerak, but he was also Seerin’s friend.
The only time I’d ever spoken to thepujerakdirectly was back at my village, so I was surprised when he emerged from the shadows of the darkened, quiet camp to approach me on the training grounds.
I angled my bow down, but kept it gripped in my palm as the Dakkari male studied me, though he seemed in no rush to speak first.
Growing uncomfortable with his silence, I thumbed the bowstring back and forth as I waited.
“Did you know,vekkiri, that the way hordes are classified, how they are recognized, are by theirVorakkar’sfamily name?” he asked softly, forgoing any kind of greeting.
My brow furrowed, but I didn’t look away from him.
“This horde is Rath Tuviri,” thepujeraksaid.
Seerin of Rath Tuviri, I remembered him telling me.
