“No.” I point ahead.
“Butmytings!” She tries to pull her hand out of mine. “Mifursenmiskins. Eyeneedem.”
“No,” I say flatly. I will not go back, no matter how upset it makes her. I cannot take the chance that the bad ones will take her from me. The fear gnaws at my mind, and vague flashes of memory come to the surface: my father’s tired face. Of another man – no, a boy – at home with us. Then, gone and the sense of enormous loss.
I squeeze Har-loh’s hand tight and pull her along. She will see I am right in this, given time.
? ? ?
We walk until both suns have disappeared and the little moons are rising in the sky. There’s no shelter to be found, not out here. If it was just me, I would walk through the night and into the morning. I know where the next cave is, and were I alone, I would already be there.
But Har-loh has small feet and takes even smaller steps. She tires easily. She cannot keep up with me, and so I must slow down and wait for her.
She hasn’t complained, but I can tell she is exhausted. Her strangely colored face is pale and her small fingers feel like icicles in my hand. Her steps are slower than usual, and her teeth sometimes clack with the cold.
My female needs to rest. The drumming in my breast says so, and I am filled with more fierce possessiveness. I find a hollow in a cliffside, out of the wind, and take her there. “Sleep.” It is one of the words I have learned from her. “Har-loh Rukh sleep.” I point at the snowy ground.
She rubs her exhausted face. “Heer?”
I don’t know this word, but I am guessing she is asking where her cave is. I gesture at the ground. This is our place for tonight.
Her face crumples a little and she sniffs. Then she nods.
She looks so sad. I am filled with despair at the sight of it, and I touch her cheek. “Har-loh…fire?”
“Firenao? ButIdonhafdetings…” she gazes around at the snowy embankment, and another sniff escapes her.
I am filled with shame, and I press her small face to mine. I am not caring for her properly.
“Sokay,” she tells me with a small pat to my cheek. “Iyamjustired.” She takes off her snowshoes with slow movements and kicks them aside, then moves closer to the rocky wall. There’s a bit of a nip in the air, but I don’t feel the need for skins like she does. My initial thought of crouching low on the ridge above and watching for intruders disappears, and I know what I must do.
I take her cloak from her shoulders and then sit on the ground. I pull my Har-loh into my lap and pull her clothing open so her bare skin can press to mine, and then I wrap my body with her cloak. I will make her a warm cocoon of my skin, so she will not have to touch anything cold.
Her shivering stops and she gives a small sigh of pleasure and curls up against my chest. “Tankyew,behbeh.”
I feel like I’ve done something right. I hold her close to me and watch the horizon, my knife close at hand. I’ll stay up all night and guard her.
? ? ?
The next morning, the air has the bite of snow in it. Not just any snow, but the thick, blanketing snows that last for months and do not let up.
And again, my plans must change. There is a cave nearby, but it will not be warm enough for Har-loh in the deepest of snows. I will take her farther, more days walk to the cave by the salty waters that never completely ice over. I go there when the storms are too brutal for even me. It will be a good place to take my Har-loh, if she can withstand the journey.
I hunt small game to feed us as we walk, and by the time both suns are high in the sky, my next cave is in sight. I scout it out to ensure that no metlaks have made it their home while I have been gone, then bring in my female.
Har-loh gives the cave a dubious look. “Eezsmohl,” she says. “Smohlerdanlastwun.”
I take her hands in mine and kneel before her. She looks tired, but how do I explain to her that I must ask her to keep going? I think, frustrated, and then try to string a few of my meager words together. “Har-loh, Rukh…no.” I point at the cave. “Sleep yes. Fire yes. Har-loh, Rukh no.”
She tilts her head, digesting my attempts at communication. “Westayeerendenwegoh?” She makes a walking gesture with her fingers. “Harlow Rukh go?”
Relieved, I nod.
A bright smile crosses her face. “Lookitchew, behbeh. Yewllbespeekin innotime.” She leans in and gives me a smacking of her lips against mine. “Sohprowd.”
Chapter Four
HARLOW
I’m kind of glad this cave is temporary, because it’s worse than the last one.