ZOLAYA

That afternoon, I finish filling one of the caches we have set up near the Icehome encampment. I help Raahosh, M’tok and O’jek finish a stone wall for one of the island clan homes. There are not enough caves dotted along the shore for all the people here, so stone huts are being created along the sheltering walls of the cliffs. They have tops similar to the ones back in Croatoan, with a framework peak holding up a massive, stitched leather skin. Just the sight of the roof rising over the new hut fills me with a sense of yearning. I think of my Air-ee, her belly big with my kit, Analay cuddled in her arms as they sit near the fire and wait for my return.

Another week, Vuh-ron-ca says, if I do not go on my own. It will be dangerous to leave and cross the mountains on my own. The brutal season is beginning its slow descent, and that means that the valleys will be filling with deep snow and the suns will hide, making everything dark and cold. It is not so bad here along the great salt lake, where the worst storms happen on the other side of the mountains. But to get home on foot? It will not be easy.

Of course, the thought of waiting another week—or longer, if Vuh-ron-ca is too tired to travel—is torture. With three, maybe four hard days of travel, I could be in my mate’s arms once more.

That decides me.

I quietly pack my bag and pull one of my fresh kills from the cache. I can smoke the meat for traveling, and snow will provide any water that I might need. I stoke a fresh fire away from the others, cut my meat into strips, and then sit by it, sharpening my weapons while I wait for my food to be ready. It will be too dangerous to go out at night. Morning, then. First light. I am…excited. I think of my pretty mate and my small son and I cannot wait to hear their voices once more.

Lost in these happy thoughts, I do not notice Taushen until he sits down across from me at my fire. “What is this? Smoking meat?”

I wrap a bit of leather around a spearhead, anchoring it, and glance up at my fellow hunter. “I am leaving in the morning.”

“Hunting?”

“No.” I shake my head. “To Croatoan.”

His eyes go wide and he looks surprised. “Raahosh has consented for you to go?”

“I did not ask him,” I tell Taushen mildly. Raahosh is acting chief with Vektal’s return to the tribe, because a chief cannot be in two places at once. But I am not certain I would like Raahosh’s answer, so I will simply go and face the consequences if there are any. All I care is that my mate waits for me at home.

“Ah.” Taushen studies me, saying nothing more.

“What?” I look up and the lake winds rip my mane around my face, snarling it worse than it already is.

He gestures at my head. “Do you want my mate to fix that for you? She is quite good—”

“No,” I snarl at him, and again Taushen looks surprised at my response. How do I tell him that it is something Air-ee and I share? That I do not want anyone else touching my mane but my mate? I would rather be disheveled and look like a thicket of hraku than have someone other than Air-ee touch my mane. “No,” I say again.

“I see.” He gets to his feet and moves to my side, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Good luck to you, then.”

“Do you leave to go tell Raahosh?” I ask, curious. It is not in Taushen to tattle like a child, but his leaving is rather abrupt.

“Of course not.” He sounds offended at my suggestion and stalks off.

I consider his back as he leaves, wondering if I should apologize. Perhaps when I am done with my preparations. I return to working on my weapons. If I will be alone, I will need twice as many good spears at hand in case there are problems, because I will be relying only on myself.

A short time later, Hassen arrives. He comes and sits next to me, watching me work my spearheads. I nod at him in greeting, and all is quiet for a long moment. Then he says, “I heard you are leaving in the morning.”

“Eh? Who told you that?” Surely word has not spread this fast.

“Taushen. He is also telling Ereven and Cashol.” Hassen grins. “Care for company on your trip? I miss my mate and do not mind a little walking if it means I return to her arms that much sooner.”

“Ho, Zolaya,” Cashol calls out from behind us.

“Wait,” Ereven yells after him. Then, suddenly, there are four hunters sitting at my fire. The other two have dropped to the sandy ground across from us and look at me with expectant eyes.

I decide I will not apologize to Taushen. I will choke him instead.

“You are leaving?” Cashol asks. “I can be ready to go in the morning as well. My Meh-gan needs me—”

Ereven gives him a friendly shove. “Not as much as my Claire needs me. And I have two kits to go home to. I should be the one going with Zolaya.”

I frown at them. “No one is going with me.”

“It will be an easier trip if you have a companion,” Hassen says reasonably. “Someone to watch your back.”

“We can all go,” Cashol adds. “We all have mates waiting for us.”

“We cannot all go,” I tell them. “Who will help the Icehome tribe to hunt and fill their caches for the brutal season?”

“Mardok?” Cashol suggests.

Ereven jabs him with his elbow again. “And who is going to teach Mardok, eh? You have seen the way he hunts.”

They all snicker. It is true that Mardok is a big, muscular male…but is terrible with a spear. His talents lie in other directions, like Har-loh with the ma-sheens.

I shake my head. “Taushen is here, and Mardok, and Raahosh. Rukh. But there are still many mouths to feed and those from the island are unused to the snows. It will take time for all of them. We should not all go now. Perhaps I should not even go now—”

“If you are not going, then we will,” Hassen says, gesturing at the others.

I growl at him and snap my teeth. “I am still going. It was my idea.”

“You are all fools.” Raahosh’s hard voice carries across my fire. I roll my eyes. Taushen. He has never known when to keep his mouth shut. Of course, he probably thinks I insulted his mate, so I should not be too upset. But still. “What is this about leaving early?”

I glance up at the tall, lean hunter with the gnarled horns. “I am leaving in the morning. My mate will be having our kit soon.”

“Not for at least another turn of the moon. Vuh-ron-ca and Ashtar will fly you sooner than that.” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares down at the lot of us.

“I am not waiting for them,” I say calmly. “I am leaving in the morning. If she has the kit early, I want to be at her side.”

“We all miss our mates,” Ereven says, his teasing manner gone sober. “We all want to go home.”

Raahosh is silent, the look on his face unyielding.

“What if only half of us go?” Hassen asks. “Surely with only two hunters gone, it will still be fine.”

There is a long pause. “Two hunters, then,” Raahosh concedes. “But I do not think we can spare more than that. I know I am being hard. I know what it is like to miss your family. I do. But these people need our help as well. It is important that all of us help them with their skills until they can flourish on their own.”

Hassen nods and looks to me, then puts a hand on my shoulder. “Then I will stay. I miss my Mah-dee and my kit, but I am needed here. Zolaya’s mate needs him. He should leave in the morning, no question.”

My throat grows tight with emotion. “Thank you, my friend.”

He gives me a smile that is faint with disappointment, and I make up my mind that I will sing his praises to Mah-dee of how generous her male is.

“I have two kits and my mate waiting for me,” Ereven says. “I must go. How do we decide?”

Raahosh shrugs. “The human game? Pap-ur, rocks and skeezor?”

“What is a skeezor?” Cashol asks.

Raahosh shrugs again. “A strange human thing. Does it matter?”

“I will play.” Ereven’s voice is quiet, serious, the look in his eyes intent.

“Then you play Cashol to see who will accompany Zolaya.” Raahosh nods at me. “Because he is right. His mate is heavy with child, so there is no reason for him to stay behind through the brutal season.”

Cashol sighs heavily and rubs his brow. He groans to himself and then shakes his head. “I cannot.” His face is full of disappointment as he claps a hand on Ereven’s shoulder. “My friend, you are the one that should return. Much as I miss my Meh-gan and my son, you have two kits waiting at home for you. I cannot insist that I leave and you stay when you are needed by more.”

Ereven clasps his hands. “Thank you, my kind friend.”

Cashol gives us a crooked grin. “Perhaps you can convince my mate that she should fly here with the drag and stay with me for the brutal season, eh?”

“Dragon,” Raahosh corrects.

Whatever. I nod at Ereven. All that matters is that we are going home in the morning.

* * *

We leave in the morning, laden with packs of supplies and gifts for Meh-gan and Mah-dee. Cashol and Hassen see Ereven and myself off at the dawn, and it is clear they are disappointed but full of hope that they will not be needed much longer.

I do not blame them for such hopes. It is beyond difficult to be away from family for so long. It is different from the time before, when I lost my parents to the khui sickness and found myself a young male with no ties to any cave but that of the hunters.

This time, I have my Air-ee. I have my Analay. And I have a kit on the way. There is much to miss. There is much to regret when I am away, and I cannot wait to return.

“Do you think this is wise?” Ereven asks as we set off into the snow.

“Wise?”

“Leaving before Vuh-ron-ca and that big drag can fly us to the village?”

I shrug. “We are hunters. We know these trails.”

“We also know how dangerous they can be in the deep snows. It is the beginning of the brutal season. You and I both know that our caches should be full and we should be snug by the fire with our mates and our stores full of food so we do not have to leave their sides when it is cold.” He holds a hand out and blows a long breath, and it turns to ice in front of him. “Even the air feels harder. It knows the brutal season is coming.”

“You sound as if you wish to wait.”

He laughs, grinning at me. “Not at all.”

“Me either. Let us go, then.”

Ereven nods and adjusts his pack. I think of Air-ee and Analay. No, I do not want to wait, either. I know the way home. I know what is waiting for me.

That is enough to make my feet move quickly.

* * *

The first day of travel is not so bad. It is colder than usual, but hiking keeps our bodies warm. We scale the icy peaks, moving along narrow paths as we head through the mountains. I do my best not to look down when the path goes higher. Heights do not matter if I have my mate. I repeat it to myself, over and over again. Air-ee is confronting her fears by not having me at her side for a long, long time. I can go through the mountains if it means I am that much closer to my mate. I can.

I am relieved when the jagged trail levels out and we enter the valleys, though. In my eyes, the worst is done.

The next morning, I twist my ankle on a loose rock. Ereven’s pack straps snap, and we are both forced to stop for a bit. I bind my ankle, he quickly knots his strap, and then we are back on our way. From that point forward, though, everything seems to be against us. A storm rolls in with dark clouds and snow pours from the skies. The wind whips at our skin, forcing us to stop once more and pull out the heaviest furs we own and strap them to our bodies. The day gets gray and dark long before it should, and I cannot see farther than my face. We are forced to find a hunter cave to bunk down in for the evening, and even the fire does not feel like it can warm us.

“An ice storm,” Ereven says with a shake of his head as he pokes at the fire. His boots and mine hang over the flame so they will dry. “Rokan would have been able to warn us.”

“Except that Rokan is back in the village, in the arms of his mate, which is where I wish to be.” I shrug and adjust the furs I have spread out on the floor to dry. When we got in the cave, they were completely crusted with ice. “We will just have to endure it. I do not like it, but I like the thought of being here in this small cave with you all of the brutal season even less.”

Ereven laughs. “I do not want to hug your bony bottom against mine for warmth, so we are of a similar mind, my friend.”

The evening is a quiet one. We are both tired and longing to see our families, and I suspect we are both quietly dreading the next day’s travel. We do not speak of our worries, but it seems as if the brutal season has begun early and we will be out in the thick of it.

Still, there is nothing to do but go onward. If we push hard, we can make it home late tomorrow.

I think of my Air-ee, warm by the fire, her skin golden in the light of it, her long mane spilling over her shoulder, her body plump with my kit.

It is worth everything to return to her side. I will let that vision of her give strength to my legs tomorrow.