"Are there other humans there?"
"Two women that I know of. Both bonded to clansmen."
Mab thought about that. Two human women who had crossed the border and stayed. Who had chosen orcs over whatever Valdara had offered them.
"And they're happy?"
"They're loved."
Varek's hands stilled in her hair. The salve was worked through now, every strand slick and smooth, and he gathered the whole mass of it and twisted it gently, letting it fall over one shoulder.
Mab turned to face him. "Your turn."
Varek's brow rose. "My turn?"
"Your turn." She reached for the comb where he'd set it on the rocks. "Fair is fair."
For a moment, he didn't move. Just looked at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. Something between amusement and a softness that made her chest tight.
Then he turned his back to her.
Mab stared at the expanse of green skin, the width of his shoulders, the dark hair that hung past them in wet ropes. She rose onto her knees on the submerged ledge, the water lapping at her ribs, and gathered his hair in her hands.
It was coarser than hers, thicker, but the comb moved through it easily enough. The bone teeth caught on a few tangles near the nape of his neck, where the leather tie that usually held it back had rubbed the strands together, and she worked them loose with the same patience he'd shown her.
His shoulders dropped by degrees as she worked. She drew the comb through a section near his temple, watching the teeth part the dark strands.
Varek made a low sound in his throat. Not quite a hum. Something closer to a purr, if a creature his size could purr. The vibration of it traveled through the water and into her knees where they pressed against the submerged stone.
Mab worked her way across his scalp, section by section.
"Where will I live?" she asked. "At Northwatch. And the children. Where will they go?"
Varek's head turned slightly, not enough to dislodge her hands from his hair, but enough that she caught the edge of his profile. The steam curled around them both.
"You'll live with me."
The comb stilled. "In your quarters?"
"In our quarters." He said it the same way he saidmine. "I've had rooms near the captains' wing for years. Barely used them. I've been in the field more often than not."
Mab resumed combing, working through a section near his ear. "And now?"
"Now I'll use them." His voice was low, unhurried. "Targesh will have work for me. Patrols, training, border negotiations. But I'll come home to you."
Home.The word sat strange in her. She'd never had one. The holding had been a place she slept, a place she worked, a place she survived. Not a home.
"The rooms are larger than the lady's chamber," Varek continued. "Stone floors, but covered in furs. A hearth big enough to heat the space even when the mountain howls. A bed that fits me."
Mab thought of the lady's chamber, his feet hanging off the end. "That would be an improvement."
The purr-sound came again, vibrating through the water. "There's a window that faces east. You'll see the sun rise over the peaks."
She worked the comb through the last section of his hair, drawing it smooth and straight down his back. The salve pot sat within reach, and she scooped out a measure without asking, working it through the coarse strands the way he'd done for her.
"And Tibbs and Annie?"
"Depends on what they want." Varek's head tilted back slightly into her hands, and she felt the tension in his neck ease as her fingers worked the salve through his hair. "Tibbs is old enough to choose. If he wants to train with the other boys, he can bunk in the barracks. If he'd rather stay close to you, there's room."
