Page 56 of Theirs to Crave
Estrayuh glanced at us, the fur patches over her eyes lifted high.
I knew I should tell her to go, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and drag her back to the den. I didn’t want to return without her, and I especially didn’t want to play whatever game my mother had concocted.
“Yes, go,” Litha answered, smoothly filling the silence. “We, there,” she added, indicating the space left for us next to my parents and the elders.
I tried to look happy and unconcerned as they were led across theerralaytuh, and I must have been successful because after a few glances over their shoulders, the strangers’ steps grew more confident, and their backs straightened.
I turned, catching the familiar scent of smoke and crushed berries an instant before Indaro landed against my back, squeezing me tight.
“You really got her going this time, brother,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling as they traced the strangers’ path. “You must tell me everything.” She pressed her forehead to each of my mates’, murmuring, “Kezhai, Litha.Kezhai, Revik. Your bravery honors us. Thank the spirits you weren’t injured.”
She peppered us with questions as we made our way to the table, pausing only for us to exchange greetings with our other fathers, Falk and Zirrast. That done, she started again, without pausing to give us time to answer.
Falk pushed a platter ofcasacakes in my direction, winking. Indaro was always like this when she fixed on a new story. It was best to wait her out rather than try to interrupt.
I pricked a steamingcasacake with a claw, moaning at the first bite. It was almost too hot to eat, and I sucked in air to cool my burning tongue even as I snapped up the rest of the cake. Perfect.
“I’ve decided to share my den with one of the strangers,” my sister announced.
I choked.
“Do you not think any will choose me?” Indaro asked, offended.
Revik was a wall of tension beside me, his eyes fixed on my mother. I could tell she felt the weight of our stares, but she only flicked an ear as she made a show of listening to Aksha.
“What are you talking about?” Litha asked, anger resonating beneath the perfect neutrality of her voice.
Before Indaro could answer, Saytireka stood and called for attention.
“Today we welcometetevath’a, sky people, into our village. You all have heard the story, that it was by their actions—and the will of the spirits—that Svixa’s life was spared.” Muttering mixed with a chorus of thanks followed, and she waited until all were silent before continuing.
“We know very little of thetetevath’a. Perhaps they will stay only until the end ofilot va’regnev, when the sky becomes clear once more. While they are here, they will share the rights and responsibilities of any other Teterayuh.”
More muttering met that pronouncement. My hands were fisted on my mate’s thighs, probably pulling their fur painfully, but neither complained.
“My son tells me that thetetevath’aknow nothing of our land or our trees, nothing of our tongue or the dangers that surround us. It will fall to us to teach them, and to provide for them until they learn.”
My heart pounded in my chest, but I saw with relief that many of my kin smiled at that, chuffing their readiness and nodding to Estrayuh and the others—all of whom listened with wide, uncomprehending eyes.
“Let all who are willing to accept atevath’ainto their den come to the center of our circle,” Saytireka invited with a graceful sweep of her hand.
Several people stood immediately, obviously having had time to come to their decision before this gathering.
Litha’s thigh flexed beneath my hand, but when I squeezed, she settled, twitching with frustration. If she said anything, this would become an argument between her and Saytireka, and we couldn’t allow thetetezha’ato suffer for my mother’s petty jealousy.
“What is this, mother?” I asked, standing to face her.
“This is us caring for the new kinyour mategifted us with. They cannot stay with you,shavailata. It is too much for one family to bear—feeding and teaching them all.”
I ground my teeth together. I didn’t disagree, but spirits did I want to shout at her. She wouldn’t even say Revik’s name, and that lip curl when she spoke of him—as if he’d shat onthe sleeping cushions rather than proven himself a Teterayuh of worth,again—made me incandescent with rage.
“It pleases me,” I forced through clenched jaws, “to see you honoring the giftRevikhas given us. Such selfless bravery as thetetezha’ahave shown will undoubtedly strengthen our people.”
My mother’s eyes narrowed, hearing my chastisement in the emphasis I put on the names.
“Could they not stay in one of the unmated dens?” Frustration burned in me as I voiced Litha’s suggestion, soothed very little by her caress on my ankle. I hated that she was made smaller because of these games Saytireka forced us to play.
I drew in a breath, reaching for peace. Between my mother’s plotting and the strange beast that had awoken when I met Estrayuh, it was a struggle.