Page 76 of The Hunter

A memory stirred in Telok’s mind. Moon cycles ago, when shadowstalkers and thornskulls had known nothing but war with one another, Ketahn had brought a lone thornskull into their tribe’s camp. Garahk had chosen to surround himself with those who had been his enemies, those who had slain his friends and kin, because he and Ketahn had seen a chance for peace. For friendship.

Telok had thought them both mad. What could there have been between their kinds but hatred after Zurvashi’s war? But Ketahn’s hope—and Garahk’s courage—had spun the first threads of a new bond between Takarahl and Kaldarak that was helping both cities prosper today.

And all it had taken to change the world was an extension of trust. Just a little trust, and years of bloodshed and spite had been laid to rest.

The thornskulls seated themselves behind Garahk, spreading in a half circle.

After drawing in a deep breath and slowly letting it out, Telok released his hold on Lacey. She looked up at him with a brow quirked. He strode to the collection of weapons, added his own to it before he could reconsider, and swiftly returned to Lacey.

The soft smile she gave him made his chest flutter.

“Scarhide, Lacey, Cole, join us.” Garahk waved them over with an upper hand, patting the ground on either side of him with his lower pair. “I would have you share your words as well.”

Lacey and Telok sat to Garahk’s right, while Cole plopped down on his left, knees raised with his arms folded atop them.

Telok glanced at Lacey, and his eyes narrowed. There was far too much space separating them. Slipping his lower arm around her, he drew her against his side, tucking her close. She looked up at him and searched his gaze for a moment, but she said nothing before settling her hand upon his foreleg and returning her attention to the winddancers.

The winddancers remained in place, still uncertain. It was Nes’Kahn Shir who acted first. She walked to the wall with an effortless grace, set her spear against it, and faced her companions.

Tas’s tension vanished instantly. He joined her, followed closely by the other three winddancers, all of them leaving their weapons there before returning to the center of camp.

Shir and Tas sat side by side in front of Garahk and held their palms skyward. The other winddancers lowered themselves to the ground behind them.

“We thank you, Garahk ki’Tuun, and offer peace in return,” Tas said, bowing his head.

Garahk settled his hands on his forelegs. “I would learn your khahal.”

Tas canted his head. “Khahal?”

“It’s like…your truth,” Cole said in English. “The truth of your hearts.”

“Your character and kunvikshun,” Lacey added.

“Ah. I understand.” Nodding, Tas switched back to vrix. “You would hear my story, and from it learn my khahal.”

“I would,” Garahk replied. “How did you find your human? I am much curious, and Lacey and Cole must be eightfold so.”

Wen’Xal Tas dropped his gaze as though seeking the words. “It was by chance.”

“It was fate,” Shir said gently.

“Fate, then,” he chittered, taking his mate’s hand and twining their fingers.

Tilting his head, Telok looked down at his own hand. Lacey had grasped it that same way, as though weaving them into one. His gaze flicked to her hand, which rested on his foreleg, and his fingers twitched with the urge to take hold of it.

“Shir was preparing to lay our first brood,” Tas continued, “and she was in discomfort. I wanted to soothe her body and spirit. So I strode into the Tangle to gather Hunter’s eyes for the pain and bluevine fruit because she likes it most. I knew where to find both. I would be swift.

“But as I sought the largest, sweetest fruit for my mate, I was not fully aware. I did not hear the unac stalking me. Did not know it was there until it was upon me. Its claws sank deep”—he raised his arms, gesturing at pale scars on his sides—“but I broke free and fled.”

The thornskulls muttered amongst themselves in respect. Unacs were large, vicious beasts with long claws and powerful bites. Even a lone shadowstalker or thornskull would be fortunate to survive an attack from one. That Wen’Xal Tas was alive to tell this tale was impressive on its own.

“I heard it following,” Tas said. “Heard it crashing through the brush, frenzied by my blood scent. I did not know where I was going, only that I could not allow it to catch me. I was faster…but for how long? That was when I found an opening on a strange rock overgrown with vines and moss. I thought it a cave. Perhaps there would be a place I could hide within, or a passage narrow enough that the unac could not follow.

“It was stranger still on the inside, but I had no time to study the cave, and there was nowhere else to go, nowhere to hide. So I readied my spear. The beast charged in, fangs gnashing, claws tearing. My spear bit into its hide again and again, but the wounds were not deep enough to give it pause.”

Shir’s mandibles sagged as her mate told his story, and she stroked his hand with her thumb.

A dull ache throbbed in Telok’s chest. He knew that feeling of fear and helplessness, knew the crushing weight of what might have been.