“That’s a bit grim,” Tilly said. Fiona didn’t respond, currently preoccupied with moping over a bit of fish Tilly had served her.
“There is no need to worry, Tilly,” Oxriel said, and Zoren grunted at his side. “We are sworn to protect you three. Even ifthis borog creature were to get near you, it would have to fight its way through two strong Sea Sand men first!”
“And Deep Sky men.”
Oxriel jerked his head with surprise at Gahn Thaleo’s voice, which no longer boomed in the hall but cut with silken intimacy into our conversation. Warrek was now at his side.
“Well, of course,” Oxriel said. “I should expect nothing less. Any warrior worth his blades should be willing to fight with his life to protect a defenceless female!”
“Hey!” Tilly said, bristling at his characterization.
But ultimately, Oxriel was right. Tilly, Fiona, and I weren’t like Valeria or Chapman. We weren’t soldiers. I doubted any of us had ever held something like a sword or a gun. If we were let loose in these mountains with nothing but our own wits, there was a good chance we wouldn’t live to see morning.
“You’re a good friend, Oxriel,” I said, giving him a little pat on the knee. “But I certainly hope we never put you in a position like that.”
Oxriel’s sight stars misted with pleasure, his mouth stretching into a dopey, dazed sort of smile.
“Thank you very much, Nazreen!” he exclaimed. “It is one of my life’s greatest honours to be considered a good friend to the new women!”
“And you too, Zoren,” I added with a nod, not wanting the quiet Death Plains male to feel left out. He didn’t smile as widely as Oxriel, but I saw his lips twitch up just slightly at the corners, his sight stars giving a shivery pulse.
It made me wonder what Gahn Thaleo’s sight stars were doing right about now. I braced myself for the intensity of their contact as I looked his way, but instead I found him deep in conversation with Salina. She had an arm around each of her daughters, holding them tightly to her sides. She appeared to be asking Gahn Thaleo questions with a deeply worried look on herface. I watched him as he answered. I couldn’t hear his words, but I could tell that the more he talked, the more Salina relaxed. Say what I would about the guy, but he was obviously a trusted leader among his people. He was capable of inspiring calm in others.
Just not in me, apparently. Even now, my pulse felt off-kilter in my veins, just from having him in the room. Absentmindedly, I rubbed my sternum.
“Is your heart hurting you, Nazreen?” Oxriel asked sounding concerned. “Do not tell me yours is broken, too!”
“You dolt,” Zoren muttered as I quickly shook my head. “She said that only happens when there’s love.”
“How do you know that Nazreen has no love!” Oxriel demanded. His sight stars surreptitiously regarded me from the corner of his eye.
“I’ve never loved a man besides my own father,” I told Oxriel honestly. I had no brothers or cousins or uncles. My parents had immigrated to Australia from Iran alone. And I’d never considered myself in love with any past boyfriends, either.
“But maybe one day,” Oxriel said hopefully. And it was an innocent, friendly, we’re-in-this-together sort of hope. Not one that said he hoped that someday I would love him specifically. But a hope that said he longed for love, and that he wished for such a thing for both of us, no matter who we ended up with, because surely that would bring us happiness.
I smiled at him, though I could tell by the way it felt that it didn’t touch my eyes.
“Maybe, Ox. Maybe.”
10
NASRIN
By the next morning, it was obvious that Zaria, Salina, and her daughters were willing to adopt us during our stay in Gahn Thaleo’s mountain. All four of them were waiting in the main hall for us at breakfast time, despite us once again arriving there quite late due to the cajoling it took to get Fiona out of bed. We spent a good chunk of the day working on a few more pieces of clothing. Between Tilly and the others, Fiona came away with some new things as well. She did her best to contribute, but it seemed that she was much more talented with tattoo needles than sewing ones.
After a midday meal, Fiona’s energy began flagging, and Tilly briskly informed us that we needed to get some fresh air.
“We could show you the brolka,” Zaria suggested. “Linnet has the care of them.”
“Like, you raise them?” I asked, for some reason feeling surprised by this. I knew the Deep Sky people, like those in the Sea Sands, did a lot of hunting and foraging for essentials. But considering how much brolka milk and wool they used, it made sense that they’d have a domesticated group to pull from.
“That sounds wonderful,” Tilly said. “Doesn’t it, Fiona? We will get to go see the Deep Sky sheep!”
“Is that some jab about me being Irish?” she grumbled. “Like, of course the Irish girl would want to see the sheep.” But she cracked a grin, letting us know that she was joking.
“I mean, I’m from Australia,” I said. “We’ve got a metric fuckton of sheep. Lamb and merino wool are big business.”
Wanda looked up at us with wide, clear eyes. “What is ametric fuckton?”
