“Are you hungry?” I asked, quiet. Activity buzzed around us. Families squabbled and voices laughed.
“Right,” he swallowed. He started to get up-
“Stay.” I put my hand on his shoulder, and he stilled, his eyes on me. I dropped my hand. “Stay,” I repeated. “I’ll do it. Let me play your wife.”
He leaned again, against the tree.
I went through his pack and started pulling out the rations I remembered, wrapped jerky, dried mushroom and fruits, that thin bread he’d said was made of crickets. He murmured thanks, started to drink from his canteen, but only a trickle came out.
“I’ll take it,” I said.
“You don’t know where the water?—"
“I can ask.”
He nodded. He was still quiet, still avoiding me. I stretched out that thread as I walked, following the flow of the others, picking up words in the chatter. “...last time…Harlak…stream.” I kept my distance, and approached the water alone. My stomach clenched remembering my outburst this morning. The walking seemed to help, like we could leave my stupidity behind, but he was hurt, and what right did I have to ask him?
“Greetings.”
I spun, almost dropping the canteen.
“Whoa, there. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sephar was on the bank, leaning against the trunk of a tree. “I was just…” he gestured with his own waterskin.
“...greetings.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“I didn’t get the chance to congratulate you on overcoming the challenge. I was remiss in my welcome.”
“I didn’t miss you.”
“Ha.” He smirked. “It’s you that’s been missing, isn’t it? You’re the power this enclave has needed. But such a shame you were dragged in here against your will.”
“I chose this.”
“Really?” His gaze was lazy, and lingering, and I felt the canteen heating in my hands. “That’s fortunate. It’s not what my cousin said.”
“Don’t make me light you on fire, please.”
His eyebrows rose, and he laughed. He laughed. “I wouldn’t think of it.” He stood up, and he swept a bow, and I was an uneducated bastard daughter, but it wasn’t a terrible one. “I’ll leave you to your water collecting…Rowena.” He left.
I tucked the canteen under my arm, and dipped my hands into the current. There were fish here, among the current-tumbled stones, little ones that darted up to inspect my fingers. I needed to calm down. If I needed to kill his cousin, I’d be good at it. I could do it. Khal would forgive me. He’d forgiven me for worse.
And maybe I could just burn him, burn my hand on his face…the melting faces of the toughs in the tower came back, and I gasped. Steam rose, and the fish fled away. A few dozen yards away, voices laughed and chattered, a group of young women, my age. One of them waved.
When I put the canteen in Khal’s lap I’d stopped shaking.
“My thanks.” He drank. He looked drained. The travel was hard on him. I wished he didn’t have to “project strength.” Iwished he’d let us carry him. He looked up at me. “Are you alright?” he tensed. “Did something happen?”
“No,” I said. “I just…almost immolated your cousin.”
“Did he do something?” he started to sit up, and without thinking I put my hand on his chest, guided him back down.
“No. No, he just…tried to be friendly. I threatened him.”
“Then I’m sure he deserved it.” His voice was quiet. He glanced down at my hand.
I pulled it back. “Sorry,” I whispered.
He swallowed. “You don’t need to be.”
