I yanked my doubts to a halt and steadied my breath. “We are safe, Ama. We are hidden. No one knows we are here, and three days north is a very long way.”
“Three days of walking, yes. But not for scavengers on swift horses.”
I assured her again, reminding her how long we had been here without ever seeing anyone outside of our tribe. I promised I would be cautious, but said we couldn’t let one sighting miles away make us fearful of our own home. Home. The word floated in my chest, feeling more fragile now.
She reluctantly let me go, and I hurried down the path to the canyon, through the meadow, and up the steps of the ruin into its dark cavern. He wasn’t there yet. I paced, waiting, sweeping the floor, stacking the books, trying to keep my hands and thoughts busy. How had someone heard Jafir’s name? He spent every day with me.
Except for those three days he hadn’t come.
I remembered how he held me when he finally showed up, a strange embrace that felt different. But I knew Jafir. I knew his heart. He wouldn’t—
I heard footsteps and turned.
He stood in the doorway, bare-chested as he was most days of summer, tall, his hair a wild mane, his arms tan and muscled, his knife secure at his side. A man. But then I saw him as Ama and the rest of the tribe would. A scavenger. Dangerous. One of them.
“What’s wrong?” he asked and rushed over to me, holding my arms as if some part of me were injured.
“There’s been a raid. A tribe in the north was attacked.”
I saw all I needed to know in his eyes. I pulled free, sobs jumping to my throat. “By the gods, Jafir.” I stumbled away, unable to see clearly, wishing I were anywhere else but here. I staggered deeper into the darkness of the ruin.
“Let me explain,” he begged, following, grabbing at my hand, trying to stop me.
I jerked free and whirled. “Explain what?” I yelled. “What did you get, Jafir? Their bread? A baby goat? What did you take that didn’t belong to you?”
He stared at me, a vein rising on his neck. His chest rose in deep, controlled breaths. “I had no choice, Morrighan. I had to ride with my clan. That is how I got this,” he said, motioning to his bruised face. “My father demanded that I go. Our northern kin were coming and—”
“And their mouths were more important than the tribe’s?”
“No. That’s not it at all. It is desperation. It’s—”
“It is laziness!” I spat. “It is greed! It is—”
“It is wrong, Morrighan. I know that. I swear to you, after that day, I vowed never to ride with them again, and I won’t. It sickened me, but—” He shook his head and turned away as if he didn’t want me to look upon him. He truly did look sick.
I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to turn back to me. “But what, Jafir?”
“I understood too!” he shouted, no longer apologetic. “When I saw the children eating, when I heard a mother crying, I understood their fear. We die, Morrighan. We die just like you! Not all of us hit our children. Sometimes we die for them—and maybe even do the unspeakable for them.”
I opened my mouth with a biting reply, but the anguish in his expression made me swallow it. Fatigue washed over me. I looked down at the floor, my shoulders suddenly heavy. “How many?” I asked. “Children?”
“Eight.” His voice was as thin as mist. “The oldest is four, the youngest only a few months old.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. It was still no excuse!
“Morrighan. Please.”
I looked up. He pulled me to his chest, and my tears were warm against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
“You’re a scavenger, Jafir,” I said, feeling the hopelessness of who he was.
“But I want to be more. I will be more.” He lifted my face to his, kissing away a tear on my cheek.
“So … this is what you’ve been hunting every day.”
Jafir and I jumped apart, startled by the voice.
A man walked through the door, a casual swagger to his step. “Well done, brother. You found the tribe. Where’s the rest?”