Thirty-three
Glyssa and Camellia sat in the best chairs in Glyssa’s pavilion, the basket at their feet.
“You’re staying here,” Camellia said quietly.
“Ye-es.”
“What’s the problem?” Camellia’s tone remained soft.
She could tell her friend anything. But she grimaced and looked down at her hands. “I’m afraid of the wilderness.”
Camellia snorted. “Sounds wise to me.”
Glyssa met her friend’s eyes. “I haven’t gotten the nerve to go out of the shelter of the camp by myself. Not even to a nearby hill.”
“Hmm.” Camellia passed her a flatsweet.
They ate instead of talked.
Then Camellia nodded. “If you’re going to stay, you should overcome that fear.”
Glyssa frowned. “Yes.”
Tilting her head, Camellia said, “And Jace hasn’t discovered this about you, yet? After four and a half weeks?”
“No.”
“I watched you quite a bit today,” Camellia said. “I’m sorry, but I think he takes you for granted. That he doesn’t give you the respect you deserve. Glyssa, you aren’t getting what you need from him. You have to tell him that.”
“I’m hesitant to.”
“I understand.”
“He’s not accustomed to listening to anyone but himself.”
“And because of circumstances, he’s gotten to do that most of his life. But not if he wants to be part of a couple. He has to change, Glyssa, want more for the both of you.”
“Yes.” Glyssa sighed, then took a long, long breath. “Two birds with one stone. I’ll ask him to meet me to watch the twinmoons rise at the top of the hill. I’ll go by myself.”
“In the dark?”
“It’s not that far, and there really aren’t any dangerous animals out there so close to the camp.” She was pretty sure. “We can talk then, and I’ll tell him I have this problem, too.”
“All right,” Camellia said. This time when she reached into her basket, she pulled out a sphere and handed it to Glyssa. “Not much background on Jace, but you might want to take a look. Laev and your father hunted for it, of course. But I think this might ease matters between you.”
Yes, that got her interested. But she could look at it later.
Kissing her friend on the cheek, she said, “They’ll be finished building the bonfire shortly, I’ll take you there. You’ll like it, snuggling with Laev.”
“Yes, I always like that. And that new Community Hall of yours is wonderful, very impressive.”
“Just the reaction the Elecampanes expected. We’re very proud of it.” Glyssa changed into heavier clothing and led her friend to the bonfire where Laev and Jace and Raz T’Elecampane were talking, with a couple of other people listening.
Glyssa slipped her arm in Jace’s. “A moment, please.” She smiled at the rest.
“Sure,” Jace said.
She walked with him to an open area on the other side of the bonfire. Glancing toward the edge of the camp, from here all she could see was big trees. Scary trees that could hide anything.
“Jace,” she said, her love for him making her lilt it.
He bent down and brushed her lips with his own, then said, “You’re serious. Yes?”
She swallowed, gestured in the direction of the hill, kept her eyes on his. The whoosh of the bonfire catching sounded, along with a cheer, and more light let her see the gray of his eyes. “I’d like to meet you atop View Hill to watch the twinmoons rise.” She paused for four heartbeats. “It’s very important to me.”
“Sure.” He looked at the sky. “That will be in about twenty minutes?”
“Yes.” Just short enough that she wouldn’t have to wait and lose courage, long enough that even walking slowly, she’d get there in good time.
Again he kissed her. “See you there.”
She sighed. “Yes.” She made herself turn from him and walk away. Knew from the lack of heat in their bond that he didn’t watch her.
Yes, they were a couple, but she wasn’t quite satisfied with that. Camellia was right. Time for a frank conversation and to ask for what she needed, to know exactly where they stood. What he saw in the future for them so she could make solid plans.
Summoning all her courage, she walked out of camp with only a weathershield around her. Next year she’d bring a blazer—and over the winter she’d learn to use it. Learn wilderness survival skills, too. A small spell glow helped her watch her step, and as she walked, the noise of the camp diminished and the small light pollution from humans vanished.
She was left alone in the wilderness under a galaxy-laden sky bright with stars. Anxiety quieted inside her, allowing room for awe at the beauty.
The night scents were different from those she’d smelled that one morning when she’d gone out with Lepid at dawn. She walked steadily and reached the top of the hill with more acceptance of the wilderness, and more faith in herself.
In the distance, the edge of the auras of the twinmoons showed above the horizon.
Jace lingered by the bonfire, talking to a couple of the noble advisors who wanted to quiz him on the building and the prospective town. Minutes ticked off in his mind, but he was flattered enough to wait for the last second so he could run to the hill.
He nodded a good evening to them, and turned to lope away, when the Clover guy caught his arm.
“Jace Bayrum? My cuz Walker told me to talk to you. About Myrtus Stopper.”
“Myrtus?” Jace asked.
The Clover whispered. “We have more contacts with the Merchants’ Guild than the FirstFamilies. We think we have a lead on him, the real amount he got for those artifacts, and some of the people he sold them to.”
Intrigued, Jace faded to a deep shadow to talk.
At first Glyssa just enjoyed the beauty of the night, looking out at various directions from the top of the rise. The wind from the south brought humidity from the Deep Blue Sea—at least that’s what she told herself. And she imagined she could smell more water, fresh-water, in the air of the northwest and Fish Story Lake.
Blinking hard, she could see the faint outline that delineated the shape of
Through her bond with Lepid, she found him playing with the camp Fams—no Fams had come on the ship— in the forest. Zem dozed in Jace’s tent.
And Jace . . . she would
Tears rose, trickled. She was being oversensitive, shouldn’t think anything about his failure to show.
But she’d made a point to tell him this was very important to her. And it was. Her first foray outside of the camp completely alone. She’d wanted to show herself—and him—her courage.
When was the last time she’d asked him to do something for her, something that was very important to her?
Never.
