'We have all met them,' Nuada says at last.She loops her arms around Terrin's neck and leans on his chest.'We all know of the humans, light.'
Sulan shakes her head.'No, not a human.She said she was created by them.She does not live and die as they do.They have made her in their image, and given her prowess over their fields.'
'My fields,' Vaire corrects.
Sulan shakes her head again.'They belong to the humans now, surely you have realized.What grows there is not your growth, it is theirs.And now, it is hers.She said they call her Eithne.'
Vaire frowns.Kyarin turns his cheek against his shoulder, cool breath caresses a collarbone.
‘I do not feel her,’ Geom says slowly.
‘Because she is not one of us,’ Sulan says.‘She is not connected as we are.’
‘What are we to do with this information?’Ailel asks.
‘Nature,’ Sulan says, her eye turning to him.Kyarin’s fingers grip his hand tighter.‘You observe the humans, don’t you?You feel them cut down your trees and dig up your plants.’
‘I do not mind,’ Vaire says.‘They use them, they make shelters and baskets and all kinds of things.’
‘But now they have made another one of us, that isn’t us.This is dangerous.’
‘I do not think so,’ Vaire replies firmly.‘We should welcome her, even if she is not part of us.’
‘Absolutely not,’ Nuada butts in, sitting straight off Terrin’s shoulder.‘We do not know her or what she is made of.’
‘And what are you made of?’Vaire asks her jocosely.‘Somehow we still welcome you.’
Nuada flicks her fingers in his direction and water droplets splatter onto his face.He grins and wipes them off.
‘I am not suggesting action,’ Sulan interrupts before more opinions can be voiced.‘I merely advise caution.If humans are capable of this, there is no telling what else they can do.’
Light is right, you know.
Vaire turns in surprise.Kyarin watches him without a hint of irony.‘You?Agreeing with Sulan?’He presses closer, a coy smile on his lips.‘Perhaps the worldisending.’
Kyarin’s eyes drift over his face.Cold, slender fingers brush hair from his forehead and curve behind his ear.‘You are still so young,’ he whispers.‘You have too much trust in the universe.’
‘Is it so terrible?’
Kyarin’s thumb slides up his temple, his touch light, his eyes tender.‘It is like you.Gentle, cradling, until it is ruthless and wild.’
‘It is like me?’Vaire cannot stop smiling.Kyarin’s dark eyes are close.‘Then it is not terrible.’
‘No,’ he acquiesces in a murmur.‘Not terrible at all.That doesn’t mean humans are not dangerous.’
‘You have seen the humans,’ Vaire reminds him.‘They collect in small bands and most die faster than they live.’
‘You have a soft spot for them,’ Kyarin tells him back.‘You use their names, their words.You extol their good qualities and ignore the bad.’
‘Sulan says that is what I do with you,’ he chuckles.Kyarin remains quiet at that.Vaire leans closer and tastes his ebon lips.Cold and sweet.He tastes of crisp autumn nights, of wonder and sorrow, of stars and every dark pause between them.‘The universe gave me you,’ he murmurs.
‘No.’Kyarin’s voice sighs into his mouth, over his tongue like snowdrifts.‘It gave me you.’The fingers in his hair slide deeper.Vaire lets him take his mouth and, tender between the bed of roots, his body.
Vaire meets this new one, Eithne.She is steady and kind.She cannot make things grow as he can, but she can help what is growing.Vaire likes her.The humans call her a god.That is what they call him too, she tells him.They worship her but they fear him.
The humans make more gods.Slow, at first.Second comes Cinaed, who watches over their homes.Then, as the population grows and clashes together, Cadoc, who bolsters their wars and oversees justice.Then all at once Varuith, Caindel, Langaire.They are of love, desire, art.Vaire is delighted.
See?he tells the others.Humans are filled with love and beauty.Sulan shakes her head.Kyarin is disappointed in him.None of the others are convinced.
