Eighteen
“How much longer before we get there?”
Tara kept her voice low but a dozen glowing eyes—ranging from radiant honey to shimmering amber—looked her way. She shrank down in her seat inside the shuttle, ducking her head against Ki’san’s shoulder. Like him, Ki’san’s clanbrothers were dark-haired and strongly built, and none missed an opportunity to sneak a glance at her.
“We are approaching the outer border of the enclosure now,” the lead pilot replied, plainly mistaking that her question had been directed at him. “We will land shortly, Mata.”
“Mata?” she murmured to Ki’san.
“The respectful way to address a female,” he said.
“Right.”
Both Doctor Selai and the administration seemed eager to have her—and the A’rahan clanbrothers—out of their hospital as quickly as possible. As soon as Doctor Selai determined her recovered from the shock of being woken, he recommended she be taken immediately to her own enclosure.
The grim fur-cloaked warriors had surrounded them both the moment they stepped outside her hospital room, hustling them out to the shuttle platform. The curious and lingering looks she got from other g’hir, patients and staff alike—just by walking down the hospital corridor—made it clear that this level of protection wasn’t as overboard as it first seemed.
Ki’san had brought clothes for her—a long light blue linen dress, covered by another darker blue dress in a heavier fabric with slightly shorter sleeves, gray boots, and a fur-lined cloak. Expecting to be greeted by frigid temperatures, she caught her breath at the blast of heat that hit her as soon as they stepped through the hospital doors.
Ki’san offered an understanding smile. “It is much colder in the high north.”
She shrugged off the cloak immediately, her temples damp by the time they got into the shuttle. The other men, still stony-faced and silent, followed inside, taking their own seats as Ki’san helped her settle in. Two pilots were already seated in the front compartment, and Tara’s ears popped when they sealed the door.
The chairs of the shuttle were larger than any first-class seat she’d ever had. The pilot quickly adjusted the temperature in the cabin to accommodate her and the warriors’ heavy clothing before they lifted off, but the tension made it a nerve-wracking flight.
The warriors hadn’t greeted either her or Ki’san, and the fact that no one engaged in conversation at all meant that her question had been the first words uttered aloud since they’d boarded hours ago.
Hardly a cheery group.
The sprawl of the city, the wide swaths of green, had long since sped by. These mountains blazed white with snow, the rivers pure and sparkling in the sun. Suddenly, seemingly in the center of the frozen wilderness was a clearing, a settlement set on the crag and tail of a mountain.
True to the pilot’s word, they had already begun their descent. As soon as they touched down, one of Ki’san’s clanbrothers unsealed the door. The chilly blast had Tara scrambling for her fur-lined cloak.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, shivering as Ki’san undid her safety harness and settled the cloak over her shoulders for her. “I guess I’m used to spring.”
He gave a faint smile. “And my blood is part ice.”
He helped her down the shuttle steps, the other clanbrothers taking up positions around them. The wind was biting, the air thinner up here, but not one of them seemed to even notice the cold. The buildings seemed ancient white stone, but whether they were houses or workshops she couldn’t say. Except for their small party, the snowy settlement was silent and empty. The sky turned pink and orange and violet as one of Hir’s suns slipped below the horizon.
“Where is everybody?” Tara sent an uneasy glance at their escort. “We’re not the whole group, are we?”
“The others all await us.” Ki’san indicated the largest building. Twice the size of Heatherbell, it looked less a home than a Romanesque fortress. “Inside the clanhall.”
“What do you mean, all of them?”
“Tonight begins the winter gathering.” His hand rested on the small of her back. “You will be the first human they have ever seen.”
“Oh.” Her stomach fluttered. The stony-faced clanbrothers around them sure hadn’t seemed happy about her presence among them. “How do they feel about having a human here?”
“In the end”—Ki’san’s glance flicked to their stern escort—“the clanfather was persuaded to intervene on our behalf.”
That good, huh?
But it wasn’t as if she could just climb back into the shuttle. Whatever this council thought of Ki’san’s involvement in the crash of the Karnack, he needed his enclosure’s support.
“You know, I got to do some sightseeing last year when I was evaluated at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh.” she said as they crossed the courtyard. “This place reminds me a lot of Edinburgh Castle. It’s built on Castle Rock, high up like this. From there you can see the water as well.” Tara quickly pulled up her hood against the stinging, icy gusts. “The wind is wicked like this too.”
“These are harsh lands.”
“I like it. It’s beautiful, wild.” She smiled up at him. “Reminds me of you.”
He gave a quiet, huffing laugh. “You look with kind eyes on us both.”
Two of the warriors increased their pace, moving ahead of the rest to push open the thick, wooden doors of the clanhall. The interior was only slightly more welcoming. Also made of white stone, thick pillars supported the soaring roof, and it was nearly as cold inside as it was out. High windows sparkled with the fiery sunset.
“This way,” Ki’san murmured.
Tara’s first impression when she saw the two hundred or so warriors assembled was that she was not only the only human here, she also seemed to be the only woman. Every head turned in their direction, conversations dying away instantly, the hall silent now save for the footfalls of their small group.
The other warriors in their party broke away, moving through the hall to their own seats at the long wooden tables, but she wouldn’t escape so easily. Ki’san’s hand at her lower back made it clear they were expected to present themselves before the table on the dais—and to the gray-haired flinty-eyed g’hir male seated there.
But better here, a less-than-welcome guest, than back at Heatherbell, aching for Ki’san and feeling her life slip away.
Tara lifted her chin. I have so got this.
The clanfather’s eyes were a shimmering gold, his expression as cold as his lands as they stood before him.
“Ki’san.” It was less a greeting than a statement of fact.
Ki’san inclined his head briefly. “Clanfather.”
“It has been long since you entered our clanhall.”
“I regret that I could not attend the last gatherings.”
“Yes.” The clanfather’s nostrils flared, “I do recall hearing your responsibilities kept you elsewhere.”
“I offer my gratitude again,” Ki’san said, “for your intervention. My lifemate would not have survived without it.”
“Your human lifemate.” His glowing amber eyes turned to Tara. “Is this she? Or is there another female outside that I am to greet?”
“I present to you she of my heart and now of our blood.” Ki’san rumbled. “My mate, this is E’lar, clanfather of the A’rahan enclosure.”
Tara realized her hood was still up, and quickly she pushed it back. A stir ran through the room, some leaning forward to openly stare at her. The clanfather’s gray eyebrow raised a touch.
Maybe I should make a break back to the shuttle after all . . .
“Since Ki’san has not seen fit to tell us,” the clanfather grumbled, “and I would not care to guess what humans might call their females—What is your namesound?”
“My—? You mean my name? It’s Tara.”
The clanfather’s expression didn’t change and the pause drew out to an uncomfortable silence.
“Simply that? ‘Tara’?” the clanfather asked at last. “You have no human enclosure then?”
“Actually,” her eyes narrowed. “My full name is Tara Elizabeth Douglas. Those of middling acquaintance—and servants—address me as Miss Douglas. Friends address me as ‘Tara’.”
“And by which of those namesounds am I to call you?” the clanfather growled.
“I suppose that depends on whether we’re to be friends,” Tara clasped her hands in front of her in studied casualness, “or not.”
“Considering that this enclosure has exerted great efforts in securing your passage to Hir and,” his sour glance rested on Ki’san, “has acted to protect your mate from the very serious charges leveled against him by the council, I suppose to address you as ‘Tara’ is appropriate.”
“As you please, E’lar.” Tara held his gaze. “I’d like to thank you too for intervening on our behalf. As Ki’san said, I’d be dead right now if you hadn’t.”
“At least you have arrived at the hall before First Night’s meal.” E’lar glanced toward the windows. “Just before.”
“I could not take Tara from the medical center before her physician confirmed she was well enough to depart,” Ki’san said.
“The younger Brother falls to his rest.” E’lar indicated the second sun slipping behind the horizon. “And I will not begin the feast late when all others arrived in goodly time.” He waved them away. “To your places.”
Ki’san inclined his head again and stepped back, directing Tara along with him. At this dismissal, the rumbles of conversation stirred in the hall. The clanfather too had already turned away to speak to a snowy-haired female g’hir dressed in fine white robes.
She was the first female Tara noticed, but a glance around showed a handful of others, two about her own age, one likely a teenager. And everyone—male and female alike—were watching her.
“That was fun,” Tara muttered. “I was a real hit with the clanfather.”
“Better than I expected,” Ki’san murmured. “He was positively gregarious—for him, anyway.”
“I hope we’re sitting somewhere near the exit.”
“No.” He sent a glance back at E’lar. “We will sit up there, with my father.”
“Wait—” She broke stride for an instant. “You mean your clanfather or actual father?”
“Both, since he leads our enclosure and is my sire.”
Sure enough, Ki’san’s guidance had brought her to the end of the long table, but only so that she could step up onto the dais.
“God, why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered. “If you’d warned me I might have been a little nicer.”
“He would not have,” Ki’san rumbled. “And while we might share a bloodline, I was not sure he would acknowledge me as a son at all. It has been some years since he has.”
“How did he acknowledge it?” She mentally ran through the conversation. She couldn’t recall as single warm word exchanged between father and son.
“By seating us up here, at his side for the duration of the gathering.”
“Um,” The other sun faded from the sky. “Just how long does this ‘gathering’ thing go on again?”
Ki’san’s jaw was tight. “Until the spring thaw.”