Gin, what’s wrong?
Sath. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.
Wake me?
Ah, you’re still asleep. I’m fine, please don’t worry.
This bond lets me know when you’re lying. Won’t tell me why, or what’s wrong, but I know when you aren’t telling me the truth.
Fine, Sath. You are the most stubborn creature I have ever met. Gin could feel his rumbly laughter, and it made her smile. I had a strange sensation tonight—I could feel Ben again, trying to break into my mind. But it isn’t possible. I know that it isn’t possible. The amusement faded from her bond with Sath, and she could swear that she could hear the low growl that always accompanied thoughts of Taeben. Calm down, I’m sure it was just a coincidence. There have been some young ones here that want to learn the bond, and even though I refuse, they could be experimenting. I will have to be more firm with them.
Gin—you will tell me if—I mean, if you know, then you will tell me -
Of course I would. Gin focused on how much she loved Sath and soon felt him relax. No more secrets. That’s why I taught you the bond. Now get some rest, and I will do the same.
I love you, till always.
Till always, Sath.
Gin moved away from the window as she felt him settle back into her mind. She was reminded of Ben’s description of her in his mind – she was a low, comforting hum, always there. That was Sath—always there, but more of a purr than a hum. And she was here in the tree city with her people, wishing that she was across the Forbidden Sea in the feline company of the Qatu. She created the bond with Sath so that he would not worry—he had not moved beyond all the hard times in their shared past. Each time she left for the Great Forest, Sath clung to her, as though he might never see her again. With the bond, he could find her instantly and know what she was doing, who she was with, and, most importantly, where she was.
Gin sighed as she moved back toward her bed in the dark. Regardless of her promise not to keep secrets from Sath, she had not wholly opened her mind to him. There were parts that she had not let him find—stories that he was not ready to hear, of that she was sure. But as she sent out one last questioning tendril toward the Rajah of the Qatu, she found that he too had parts of his mind that she could not reach. She had not taught him to do that. Who taught him how to do that? Draoch wrote that the Qatu could make the bond innately, but she had to teach Sath.
She chuckled sadly as she climbed back into her bed. “That must have been how Ben felt the first time he couldn’t just slide into my mind,” she said to the darkness in her room. Gin rubbed her arms to rid herself of an unexpected chill and snuggled down into the thick duvet on her tiny bed. This was nothing like the luxury of her chamber in the palace, and that was good—for a time. She closed her eyes and thought of Sath and Khujann, and how happy she would be to see them again. Soon. Soon her time here would be up, and she could make her way back to Qatu’anari and Sath. Not soon enough.
Several Years Later...
Four
Inside the Palace Grounds, Qatu’anari
“Come on, Ginny, Papa said to be back in time for dinner,” Khujann, Crown Prince of Qatu’anari said as he tugged on Gin’s arm. She turned to look at the Qatu male, no longer a fuzzy cub, standing there in the light from the torches along the path leading to the Qatu palace. He was growing into a fine Qatu, broad and robust, but he looked less and less like his father. Sath’s fur was light with dark stripes that seemed to smile along with his infectious grin, and his ears were tipped with black. Khujann, on the other hand, had grown into the spitting image of his Aunt Kazhmere—solid golden fur with just a bit of darkness smudged around his ears—and Gin found that difficult to reconcile at times. She knew that it gave great comfort to Sath because he missed his sister every day, but for her, Khujann was a constant reminder of the wedge she had a hand in driving in between herself and Sath. She was not sure he would ever be able to forgive her for bringing Tairneanach into Qatu’anari so that she could carry out Taeben’s wishes and cause Kazhmere’s death, regardless of his constant reassurance to the contrary. His teal gaze, so like his father’s, sought out hers and brought her back from her musing. “Are you coming or not?”
Gin smiled. “If I close my eyes, you sound just like your father,” she said. Khujann answered with a rumbly growl that made Gin giggle a bit. “Oh, stop it, there was a time when growing up to be just like your Papa was the only thing you wanted in life, Khuj.” She playfully swatted at him, and he beamed a toothy grin at her that stopped her
