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Authors: Catherine M. Wilson
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didn't question me further. I couldn't tell her the truth about the bow without telling her about finding the body of the man Vintel had murdered. Then she would know that this was the bow that had killed Eramet.
"How was your journey?" I asked her.
"Better than I expected," she said.
"Did you see your mother?"
She smiled. "I did, and I actually heard her say that she was proud of me."
"Why wouldn't she be proud of you?"
"She used to tell me I aimed too high. She used to be afraid for me, afraid I wanted too much."
"Surely she would want as much for you as you would want for yourself."
Sparrow gave me an indulgent smile. "You're such an innocent. Slaves who fly too high are often brought back down to earth in most unpleasant ways."
"But you were not."
"No," she said. "I was not. I was lucky."
I knew she was thinking of Eramet.
Sparrow caressed my cheek. "Don't be jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
And I realized that I truly was not jealous of Eramet. I would have wished her back again in an instant, both for Sparrow's sake and for Namet's.
Sparrow pouted. "Not even a little?"
I laughed. "Well maybe just a little."
"I suppose that will have to do."
We sat looking at each other. Suddenly I felt shy. So, I think, did Sparrow.
"Tell me about Arnet's house," I said.
"Well," she said, lying back on the mossy bank, "nothing much has changed there in the time I've been away."
I lay down beside her and listened as Sparrow told me about Arnet's house and the people she grew up with. Many of her old friends had rejoiced to see her. She hadn't expected such a warm welcome from people who had known her as a slave and who now must accept her new position in life.
When she finished telling me about her journey, Sparrow turned to me.
"I missed you too," she said, and took me into her arms.
That evening the sunset was so lovely that Maara and I joined many of the others who went to sit on the hillside outside the earthworks to watch. When the light had faded and the others had gone in, I would have stayed on to enjoy the twilight, but Maara surprised me by sending me to bed.
"We're going to be up well before dawn tomorrow morning," she said. "We're going hunting."
"Hunting?"
"Bring your bow," she said.
Her mention of the bow reminded me of Sparrow's questions.
"This afternoon," I said, "Sparrow asked me where my bow came from."
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her you gave it to me. When she asked me how you came by it, I said you found it."
Maara nodded. "All quite true."
I hesitated to ask my next question, but it had worried me all afternoon.
"What if Vintel were to recognize the bow?"
Maara shrugged. "Even if she does, I doubt she'll say anything about it."
"But then she'll know we found that man's body."
"Does it matter?"
I thought it over. Could anything make Vintel more our enemy than she was already?
"I suppose not," I said, but that wasn't what was bothering me. "Would she tell Sparrow, do you think?"
"I don't know. She might." Maara saw the worry in my eyes. "Sparrow can't fault you for being less than completely honest with her. The Lady asked us to keep our knowledge to ourselves."
"That's not what worries me."
"What is it then?"
"My bow killed Eramet."
I had never before said it out loud. I remembered how I felt when Maara first handed me the bow. How could I have used it all this time without once thinking of the loss of Eramet?
Maara turned to face me. "That troubles you?"
I nodded.
"Why?"
Why couldn't she see what was so obvious to me? "My bow took the life of someone Sparrow loved. When I couldn't tell Sparrow the truth about the bow today, it was more to spare her that knowledge than because the Lady told us not to tell."
"You would spare Sparrow the knowledge that the bow that killed her warrior is now in the hands of her friend?"
"I would spare her the reminder of her loss."
"Do you believe she doesn't remember her loss every day? Does she need to be reminded of
"How was your journey?" I asked her.
"Better than I expected," she said.
"Did you see your mother?"
She smiled. "I did, and I actually heard her say that she was proud of me."
"Why wouldn't she be proud of you?"
"She used to tell me I aimed too high. She used to be afraid for me, afraid I wanted too much."
"Surely she would want as much for you as you would want for yourself."
Sparrow gave me an indulgent smile. "You're such an innocent. Slaves who fly too high are often brought back down to earth in most unpleasant ways."
"But you were not."
"No," she said. "I was not. I was lucky."
I knew she was thinking of Eramet.
Sparrow caressed my cheek. "Don't be jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
And I realized that I truly was not jealous of Eramet. I would have wished her back again in an instant, both for Sparrow's sake and for Namet's.
Sparrow pouted. "Not even a little?"
I laughed. "Well maybe just a little."
"I suppose that will have to do."
We sat looking at each other. Suddenly I felt shy. So, I think, did Sparrow.
"Tell me about Arnet's house," I said.
"Well," she said, lying back on the mossy bank, "nothing much has changed there in the time I've been away."
I lay down beside her and listened as Sparrow told me about Arnet's house and the people she grew up with. Many of her old friends had rejoiced to see her. She hadn't expected such a warm welcome from people who had known her as a slave and who now must accept her new position in life.
When she finished telling me about her journey, Sparrow turned to me.
"I missed you too," she said, and took me into her arms.
That evening the sunset was so lovely that Maara and I joined many of the others who went to sit on the hillside outside the earthworks to watch. When the light had faded and the others had gone in, I would have stayed on to enjoy the twilight, but Maara surprised me by sending me to bed.
"We're going to be up well before dawn tomorrow morning," she said. "We're going hunting."
"Hunting?"
"Bring your bow," she said.
Her mention of the bow reminded me of Sparrow's questions.
"This afternoon," I said, "Sparrow asked me where my bow came from."
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her you gave it to me. When she asked me how you came by it, I said you found it."
Maara nodded. "All quite true."
I hesitated to ask my next question, but it had worried me all afternoon.
"What if Vintel were to recognize the bow?"
Maara shrugged. "Even if she does, I doubt she'll say anything about it."
"But then she'll know we found that man's body."
"Does it matter?"
I thought it over. Could anything make Vintel more our enemy than she was already?
"I suppose not," I said, but that wasn't what was bothering me. "Would she tell Sparrow, do you think?"
"I don't know. She might." Maara saw the worry in my eyes. "Sparrow can't fault you for being less than completely honest with her. The Lady asked us to keep our knowledge to ourselves."
"That's not what worries me."
"What is it then?"
"My bow killed Eramet."
I had never before said it out loud. I remembered how I felt when Maara first handed me the bow. How could I have used it all this time without once thinking of the loss of Eramet?
Maara turned to face me. "That troubles you?"
I nodded.
"Why?"
Why couldn't she see what was so obvious to me? "My bow took the life of someone Sparrow loved. When I couldn't tell Sparrow the truth about the bow today, it was more to spare her that knowledge than because the Lady told us not to tell."
"You would spare Sparrow the knowledge that the bow that killed her warrior is now in the hands of her friend?"
"I would spare her the reminder of her loss."
"Do you believe she doesn't remember her loss every day? Does she need to be reminded of
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