Gamarron stood and offered the young man his hand. “The stew will take a few more minutes. But we are glad for your company.”
The boy seemed touched by the simple kindness, and he shook the savage’s hand warmly. “So, then, where are we going?”
Nira rolled her eyes, and Kest gave a chuckle. “That’s a bit of a story,” sighed Gamarron. “We’ll tell it over supper.”
And tell it they did, with many interruptions, exclamations, and complaints from Nira, who was not at all comforted by his assurances that she would not have to face the Naga. Guyrin absorbed it all in pale silence, accepting the information with a fazed resignation that Gamarron couldn’t understand. Surely the boy was not so careless of death to simply walk into and accept a mission of this magnitude – but he made no objections. It seems he truly has determined to let others make decisions for him.
As much as he wished the others would stop questioning him, Guyrin’s total acquiescence made him uncomfortable. Then again, perhaps it was simply Renna’s drugs – his eyes soon drooped, and he fell asleep after eating two bites of soup. He nearly dropped the big, sturdy sawtooth leaf he was using as a bowl, but Kest deftly relieved the sleeping boy of his meal.
After a moment, Guyrin slid bonelessly off his seat and into the dirt. Renna gave a loud sigh, and all of them relaxed just a little. For all his meekness, none of them had forgotten his drug-fueled rage nor the inferno that followed it.
“I should have been more careful with his dosage,” the Hand admitted. “His narcotics tolerance is higher than I thought. I’ll double up so this doesn’t happen again.”
“I can’t believe it’s the same person,” muttered Nira. “He wanted to kill me, and now he’s like a kicked koira pup that wants petting.”
“Let him be awake more,” suggested Gamarron. “Just a few hours to begin with. If he really means what he said, it’s the best we could hope for.”
“He’s still dangerous,” warned Renna. “Sad house pet or not, he could end us all in a heartbeat and go his own way.”
“If we make him our friend, he’s less likely to fly off the handle,” Gamarron reasoned. The Weaver grimaced at him but conceded the point.
Nira stood and stretched. “Next time, Mistress, put some sweetsalt grass in the stew. I might as well have eaten acorn paste tonight for all the taste this had.”
The older woman gritted her teeth. “When it’s your turn, make the soup how you please. When it’s not, eat it and say thank you.”
Nira sneered at her. “Do you even know what plant I’m talking about? I thought the mighty Hands of Gaia knew all. It grows all over, you know. I can show it to you sometime if you’d like.” She retreated from the fire with a cutting smirk.
“I’ll season her bowl with gusher spores,” Renna snarled. “See how that ignorant gutter doxy talks when her guts are falling out her backside.”
Gamarron thought it best to pretend he had not heard the exchange.
Kest had been quiet throughout dinner, and he carried Guyrin back to his blankets in silence. Now he surprised them by striding back suddenly and crossing to Renna. “Mistress, I’ve decided to accept your gift.”
Renna beamed up at him, taking his hand and patting it in an oddly maternal way.
“What gift is this?” Gamarron asked. Nira wandered back into the circle of the firelight, eavesdropping casually.
“I’ve been thinking of something for our dear Kest ever since he lost his eye,” the Weaver said, still holding his hand.
Gamarron shifted uneasily, remembering with sudden vividness the feel of the boy’s eye collapsing under his thumb. Shame flooded bitterly into the back of his mouth.
Renna didn’t notice. “I was able to, ah, recruit the services of one of our Insectae Hands while in Megalith. The insect castes are held in low regard, but I had an insight that their talents might be put to greater use. The bugs that Kests carried in his stomach were his work. Hmm, my work, really. During the short time I… had access to those talents, I had a burst of genius, and, well! I made something totally unprecedented. Once we were clear of the city, I spoke to Kest and made my offer. I can restore his lost sight.”
Nira gave a soft gasp, covering her mouth.
“I had the construct ready even before we left Megalith,” Renna said, “but I wanted him to have a chance to think about it freely.”
“I want it.” Kest spoke directly to Gamarron. “I’m missing half the world around me, and you need me to be your tracker. It will help.”
Gamarron’s heart sank. The boy said yes to please me. There was no denying that Renna’s concoctions and tricks were effective, but they always carried a cost. They were dangerous. “Kest… I have reservations about this.”
He looked stricken. “Should I have asked first? It seemed only right to make myself as useful as I can.”
Gamarron found himself pulling at his beard and stilled his hands. “No, no. What I mean to say is this: if you were not concerned with your effectiveness as a tracker, would you want Renna’s aid?”
He looked confused. “But I am concerned with being a good tracker.”
“I know. I’m saying this poorly. What I would like, Kest, is for you to do what you would like, regardless of how it affects me and my mission, or without worrying about how I might feel about it.”
That seemed to upset him. “But you’re my chief.” The word carried a palpable weight when
