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“Your linasha is much larger than the other females,” Larzon says. “How much more do they vary in size?”
“My linasha is exceptional amongst her people,” I say, and I hope they know it is not just foolish bragging that makes me say as much. “The males I saw from her warrior tribe in the dreamspace were not much larger, and still smaller than a raskarran.”
“Then we have that advantage, also,” Larzon says, nodding.
“And we have the advantage of her knowledge. She is a warrior. She can teach us the ways of warriors of her tribes. So we might know how to counter them.”
Larzon is not a male who takes to instruction easily, but even he looks over to my linasha and nods. “It is still my hope that this Mercenia tribe will not return to our forests, but it soothes my heartspace to have your linasha’s knowledge on our side.”
“Mine, also,” Gregar says. “When we are back in the village, away from this terrible place, we will make plans.”
“Plans best made when we have all the facts,” Rardek says. “We will be waking the females today? Learning what they know that Brooks does not?”
I expect all the females would be woken, but when Gregar speaks to Liv, she shakes her head.
“Weergonnaneedhelp,” she says.
“More supplies,” Shemza says, when her meaning is relayed to us. “And my apprentices, also. Without Grace and Rachel to speak to the females in the words of both the humans and healing, we might create more confusion and distress. My Lorna can speak for me, but I am only one male. The extra hands would be much help, I think. In more than just healing terms. There are nineteen of them, and we are only eleven, with two younglings to consider. Perhaps we could keep all these new females contained and safe, but I would rather have greater numbers to assist.”
Arrangements are made. Razhan heads back to the village. He may not be as fast a runner as Delfom, but I do not doubt that he will run through the night to get his message back as fast as he can. Calran and Vantos will accompany their mates, providing two more warriors to aid in defending the females, should the need arise. Gregar suggests that some hunters follow, also, to help carry the supplies that will be needed to transport an extra twenty people home.
While this is done, my linasha comes to me, Sally at her side.
“Deborah,” she says. “Whadooyoothink?”
“A name?” I say, when Sally explains to me. “But she is called Brooks?”
“It is a second name, only,” Sally says. “Humans have two. Like I’m Sally Cole. A name that is yours, and a family name that you share. So Liv is Liv Cole, also. So Brooks should be something and then Brooks. Calling her only Brooks would be as if you called me only ‘Cole’. It’s not wrong, but it is…” She searches for a comparison. “Formal. As if you referred to Gregar only as ‘chief’ and not ever his name.”
“And my linasha does not like this?” I am aghast, and without understanding my words, my linasha seems to understand this, for she takes my arm, petting me in a reassuring way.
Sally grins. “She does not mind. She thinks of herself as Brooks and doesn’t feel wanting for another name to go by. But we were discussing it, and she has decided that perhaps she would like her name to be Deborah.”
I get Sally to repeat it again, slower.
“Deborah,” I say, trying the taste of it. “I like this. It is similar in sounds to Khadija. There is a pattern in how humans name their warriors?”
“No,” Sally says, but she is smiling. “I like that idea, though.”
“Deborah,” I say again, liking it more each time. A name my linasha has chosen for herself. A name that reflects who she is, not what her tribe chiefs wanted her to be.
“It is perfect,” I say.
EPILOGUE 2
Deborah Brooks
Liv stares at the pod containing Dawes the scientist for a long moment.
“We should wake one,” she says. “Just one. So we know what the process is, what to expect when we wake the rest of them.”
“I know you want to wake her up. Trust me, I do as well,” I say.
Dawes owes me an explanation. An apology. Frozen, her face doesn’t have the smug, superior look she had awake. If I didn’t know the terrible things she was involved in, it would be easy to feel sympathy for her predicament. Even warmth.
“You’re thinking use one of the others as a guinea pig?” Liv says.
I hate it. I’d rather use Dawes - let her suffer the discomfort and confusion, rather than these other women who may not have done anything to deserve it. But Dawes has knowledge we need to know, and the more comfortable and smooth waking her up is, the greater chance that her memories will be intact, and we get the information out of her quicker, easier.
