Eye of the Ocean Book 3 Ji'jin Station

Eye of the Ocean – Book 3: Ji’Jin Station
mother both. “I see you still have your spurs,” she added, after doing her own
nibbling. “And explanations? Do you have any of those?”
The back of his ra-finger brushed her cheek, the a'Genn marks warmer than
the rest of her skin. “I think we should go home before they start the rites and
forget our names. Did Hqua and Chan'ka take all four packs?”
“Yes.”
Three days out from the Holding at a quick pace. “How long ago?”
“Since yesterday.”
A day and a half. And no memory of the time.
His tunic made a wrapping for her chest, the pressure would help slow the
internal bleeding until she started to heal. The other damage was minor in
comparison, a side claw had caught her hip, the toe scales, her back, stripping
skin and flesh but missing bone. Her legs were unhurt, the limping was from the
hip injury. Smooth flesh on her thighs until the ticti scars. He didn't look at the
black petal design, only at that touch had pain finally reached her features. She
hadn't protested his assessment of her injuries or the help offered so far, but he
wasn't sure if she had decided to try to live.
The banner fragments peeled away from her hand to show deep parallel slices
across her palm. “You grabbed the feather?” he asked incredulously.
“She had lots.”
Air burned his points as he laughed. “Hqua and Chan'ka did a disservice to
a'Genn to lose you for the Clan. They should have carried you. You and your
feather.”
“And if I told them no?”
She would have, the tone held all of the certainty of her right to command
mixed with the pain of the ticti marks. Three children born alive, but each child
set aside by the Senior Sister-wife as unworthy of the blood spent on them.
He started to untie his leather hunting bracelets, intending to double them
around her hand over top the bandage to keep movement to a minimum, but she
refused and he settled for rewinding the strips of banner cloth. “We can go home
and tell them we're alive,” he said evenly as though she would survive that
journey without water or shelter in her condition. He searched her face for a hint
of her frame of mind. She was very calm, too much so, distant despite the earlier
teasing. The Sourrin freehold was closer than the Holding if she would agree to it.
They could make the settlement by morning if she could keep the pace even that
long or if she would let him carry her.
He took the first few steps then turned. “Aren't you coming?”
She had stiffened. “I'd rather die heading in the right direction.”
“All directions are one, all paths lead to the same place,” he quoted.
“I've heard it said better. Are you ready to tell me what happened here?”
Laurel Hickey www.2morrow.bc.ca