“It’s not,” she assured him. “What is that one’s name?”
“Who says I name the specimens I collect for studying?”
“Your baby talk.”
Hard to refute that. “This is Qamar.”
Recognizing her name, the white rat pushed her body against his jaw. He smiled automatically, then rearranged his mouth when he remembered that Rahma was watching him.
She didn’t remark on it, and he wondered if she had missed the exchange or had a reason for ignoring it.
“What do you feed them?”
“A little bit of everything.”
“Like . . .?”
As’ad wanted to scratch the back of his neck, but he knew that was his discomfort talking and didn’t want to communicate that to her. “Um, grain, seeds. Some fruits and veggies. They like a little bit of meat now and then.”
Rahma nodded along as he spoke. “What about yogurt? Or cheese?”
“No.” He shook his head, careful not to dislodge Qamar. “The others are smart enough to avoid those, but Fat Carl can’t seem to resist no matter how grisly the aftereffects.” He grimaced at the memory.
“Do I want to kn—No. Your face says I should leave it at that.” Her laugh was playful.
A moist breeze slid in from the south, reminding As’ad that he needed to check everyone’s water soon.
“How do you keep them from reproducing?”
Startled, he looked over at her.
She shrugged. “I saw the cages. They don’t look as secure as they could be.”
That was true. He nudged a wheel-stopping stone out of his path. “The rats I currently have are all girls.”
“You named a girl Fat Carl?” Disbelief colored her tone.
“Excuse me, there are five girls and Fat Carl. But since the girls avoid him and he doesn’t seem to think of anything but food, it hasn’t been a problem.”
“Are they all as affectionate as Qamar?”
“Khudha likes to ride on my shoulder, too,” he admitted.
“What does she look like?”
As’ad was walked through a tour of his rats, including their appearances and behaviors, without realizing how much he was talking until it was time to stop for lunch. After watering his pets and checking his main supply, he realized how dry his throat was and chugged a good bit more than usual.
During the stop, Rahma asked to see the rest of the rats. She learned how to tell Sarir and Yasrukh apart. Both were dappled brown and white, but Sarir had a brown patch over one eye, whereas her sister had a brown mask over both eyes. Alzali’s sleek gray form was admired, and Fat Carl’s round one was the source of a couple of stifled giggles. Rahma kept her distance from Khudha, who hissed a warning. As’ad blamed it on the rat being woken up from her normal daytime sleep.
The afternoon passed more quickly than As’ad was used to. His days of travel tended to blend together with nothing to distract him from his thoughts. Rahma tried to lure him into more personal conversations from time to time, but he was on guard again. His lack of engagement didn’t seem to bother her that much. She cheerfully chatted about anything and everything under the sun until they stopped for the night. He learned that she liked needlework but not weaving, couldn’t whistle, and thought that Sharamil would benefit from a rural library system like the one Bavenpier had.
After a simple dinner, Rahma failed to engage positively with any of the rats. She moved slowly and spoke in a soothing tone, but the standoffish rodents wanted nothing to do with her. They stuck close to As’ad while watching the stranger. Sarir, Yasruhk, and Qamar turned his lap into a communal bathing spot and soon forgot to eye the girl with misgiving. Khudha and Alzali took up that slack from their perches on his shoulders. Only Fat Carl ignored Rahma’s presence completely. He chose a spot on a fire-warmed rock to doze, content to lay there until the fire was doused for the night.
It wasn’t until they were settled into their separate sleeping spaces that As’ad realized the girl had neatly redirected the conversation away from her plans. Her willingness to discuss his pets had completely derailed him. The steady stream of information about herself had kept him off-balance. A begrudging ember of admiration glowed in his chest. That had been neatly done.
Since their path headed due north, the landscape had reverted back to sand. As’ad didn’t realize he was making a face until his uninvited travel companion asked him about it.
“I don’t like sand,” he admitted.
