“What do you care how I end up?” Nira muttered.
Gamarron took his time responding. “It sounds foolish to say it aloud, but when I was younger, I wished for a daughter. A woman of courage and wit. Though you have been angry with me of late, I… would not see you harmed. If possible.”
Nira looked angry, and she took a breath as if to yell at the old man. She stopped, though, and clamped her jaw shut instead. Renna saw her lips tremble.
“And since I’m allowing sentiment to get the better of me, Kest has always reminded me of my son,” Gamarron said quietly. The boy’s head jerked up in surprise, his mouth hanging open. “In him I see echoes of who my boy would have become, had he not perished in Bakal’s flames.
Nira scrambled to her feet, not looking at anyone. “Stop talking already and let’s get on with it.”
Renna hated to agree with her on anything, but when the girl spoke sense there was no way around it. “Soonest begun is quickest ended. What do we do with the sack of lard?” she asked, gesturing to Guyrin.
“I’ll carry him,” offered Kest. He rolled his neck from side to side and stooped to sling the unconscious chaos wielder over his broad shoulders. “Won’t be the first time.”
“Be gentle,” Renna warned. The others all turned to her with incredulous looks. Tychus had the temerity to giggle. “What?” she asked, baffled. “We don’t want him waking. He won’t be stable, and I’m out of his drugs. It’s good sense.”
They all moved slowly. Renna was aching and unsteady from their brush with Chaos, and it appeared the others felt likewise. Gamarron led their way, and Renna made sure she stayed right behind him. She didn’t intend to let him out of her sight. Or make any decisions without me. The harsh sun beat down on her shoulders, but the chill air sucked all the warmth out of it. She recalled what it was like to wear the man’s whisper-soft demonsilk robe and wondered whether it blocked the cold as effectively as the heat. By contrast, the thin fabric dress she wore now seemed to let the wind right through. What a miserable place. We’ll make headquarters on the Mainland when he unites the nations. This Black Isle only has one viable port – what was it called, Coward’s Point? – and it’s nearly uninhabited. Totally unacceptable for a seat of government. She toyed with titles, trying to decide whether she’d rather be a Grand Vizier or a First Minister. She didn’t even notice that Kest had sidled up to her until he cleared his throat. He trundled along, barely bothered by Guyrin’s body stretched across his broad back.
“What is it?” she snapped. She’d been enjoying her flight of fancy, and now she felt the cold more keenly than ever. Seeing the boy’s hesitation, she softened her tone. His maimed eye was hidden on the far side of his face, making it easier to muster kind thoughts. He truly had been a beautiful creature. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else. What can I do for you, child?” She stretched her mouth into a smile, feeling almost maternal.
“I’ve been talking with Spikkt,” he began hesitantly, shifting under his burden. The red salamander was peeking out of the collar of his worn shirt, warming himself next to the Beast Rider’s mass. “He has some ideas about… well, my eye. He thinks…” the boy faltered and took a deep breath, awkward but determined. “He thinks if we bond together I’ll be able to regrow it. My real eye.” He twitched his hands in what might have been a shrug, looking away. “Many Beast Riders do take on characteristics of their bond animals, and Spikkt can regrow his tail or legs without even thinking about it.”
A pang of something dangerously close to guilt struck Renna. The eye construct she had labored on for weeks seemed like an evil thing in the boy’s sweet face. Scowling, she pushed the thought away. “Want your eye back, do you?” she asked roughly, shaking her head. “Too bad.”
He faltered, surprised by her harshness. “What do you mean?”
She gestured at the eye construct, waxy and pale against his smooth, tanned skin. “That construct is latched onto one of the major arteries in your brain. Pulling it out would tear a hole in that artery, and you’d bleed to death. On top of that, it’s woven itself into your senses. Removing it could blind you entirely or even leave you drooling and pissing yourself.”
Kest knitted his brows, thinking hard, or perhaps communing with his beast friend. “I’ve already begun to heal more quickly,” he offered, “just in the time Spikkt has been with me. Maybe it would keep me from bleeding too much. It might not be so bad.”
Renna shrugged, tired of the conversation. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe you’d die with a hole in your face trying to throw away a gift unlike any a Hand of Gaia has ever offered before. Maybe you should have thought these things through before you said yes in the first place.” She kept her tone light and made her smile a cutting one.
He dropped his gaze, hurt written all over his face. “Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He walked more slowly, letting her pull ahead, and she was not sorry to see him go. How dare he reject my gift? All my hard work gone to waste, and all he can think about is whether he looks pretty. I should never have offered it to him in the first place. Unworthy wretch. She had a momentary impulse to apologize to him, and she squashed the thought mercilessly.
They journeyed on in sullen silence for a time, until a hoarse “Wait!” stopped their progress.
