Page 72 of Warrior’s Mate

"Almost certainly."

Kaiven moved through the hall.

Every ten steps gave him another reason to hate the Sargans and another reason not to let hatred become the only thing left of him. Families sat shoulder to shoulder beneath emergency blankets. A boy slept with his head against a ruda's flank. Three elderly men argued quietly over whether a missing neighbor had gone to the western shelter or the exchange. A Brigade medic knelt beside a farmer whose entire left side was burned.

Names were written everywhere.

On tablets. On portable displays. On scraps of packaging where screens had failed. Lists of people confirmed safe. Lists of people transferred. Lists of children separated from parents. Lists of bodies not yet identified.

Kaiven saw Maelis before she saw him.

She stood beside a long table with her weight carefully off one leg, arguing with a communications officer. Her hair had escaped its binding entirely. Dirt marked one cheek. Her jacket was torn at the shoulder and dried blood darkened one knee. She had one hand braced on the table and the other pointed at a display.

"If you merge 'no contact' with 'presumed captured,' families will stop trusting the list," she was saying. "Those are different statuses."

"We don't have enough personnel to maintain seven categories."

"Then use five. But don't turn uncertainty into fact because it is administratively convenient."

The officer exhaled. "Fine. Five."

"And every transfer needs a destination field."

"Registrar—"

"People are disappearing between shelters because we are moving them faster than we are recording them."

"Fine."

Maelis's shoulders loosened by a fraction. "Thank you."

"That did not feel like gratitude."

"It was extremely sincere."

The officer turned away and saw Kaiven. His gaze moved from Kaiven to Maelis and back again.

"I believe this is now someone else's problem."

Maelis looked around. Kaiven forgot the hall.

For several seconds neither moved. The moment was nothing like he had imagined during the shuttle ride. No dramatic sprint. No collapse into each other's arms. There were too many wounded people between them and too many exhausted workers trying to pass.

Maelis smiled. It was enough.

Kaiven crossed the remaining distance slowly. "Permission?"

Her eyes softened. "Granted."

He put his arms around her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was warm. The second was that she trembled once, hard, as if her body had postponed the reaction until someone safe was holding it. He tightened his embrace without lifting her, mindful of the injured knee.

Maelis pressed her face against his chest.

"This is the unreasonable length of time?" she murmured.

"I've just begun."