Read Online Children of the Dawn by Patricia Rowe - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Rowe
Ads: Link
And your people, do they?”
Tsilka took her time, then answered with her nose in the air.
“I say the god Wahawkin is the father of these girls. No woman ever birthed one baby right after another like that, so people
believe me. People love them to think that their father is a god. Maybe even fear them.”
Exactly alike,
Tor thought.
Unbelievable.
He remembered a Misty Time legend about brothers born to the same mother at the same time. Hoofed animals were known to have
twins. But human twins? Not since any living person remembered. Powerful feelings surged through him. They had
his
blood!
The little girls clung to their mother like outgrown leggings. They peered at Tor with suspicious curiosity, frowns pulling
on round faces. Dark eyes captured and held him.
“What are their names?”
The proud mother patted one on the head, then the other.
“Tsurya. For the graceful water skimmer. Tsagaia. For the big tan cat. People say they are the finest children ever born.”
Tor could not disagree, though he could have picked better things to name them for than a bug and a cat.
For a long time he said nothing, allowing his eyes to feast on the twins as people feasted on the sprouts of spring. Tsilka
demanded no talk, as if she knew that her daughters could most affect their stunned father in silence.
Tsurya
…
Tsagaia…
Tor rolled the names over in his mind where they made pleasing sounds. The girls were like shy sunbeams peeking through clouds,
like sweet water quenching thirst. Moving no closer, they crawled inside him, grabbed on to something never touched, and held
on talon-tight. What was it about them that could make him feel like this? It must be that he was male, and they were female.
Precious, fragile, lovable. Girls who would grow up and be women, who carried the future within their bodies.
Tor was being overwhelmed by something close to worship. But he
must
think without passion, and
now,
or in an eyeblink he could destroy his happiness, and Ashan’s and Kai El’s. Tor had experience with the power of will, and
he was glad: It would take tremendous will to distance himself from these dangerous creatures.
He said, “It’s good that people think these are the daughters of a god. They are that special.”
A look of triumph stole onto Tsilka’s face.
He went on. “But I don’t want people thinking I’m the god Wahawkin. It’s too much work to be a god. I think I’ll tell them
I’m Wahawkin’s special friend, and they shouldn’t make me angry. That will be enough.”
Tor took a deep breath, and when he let it out, sent with it lingering feelings of awe about the twins.
“I cannot be their father, or your mate. I can only say they’ll never want anything as long as I’m alive. I promise you, Tsilka.
Now you must make me a promise: What you and I did long ago must be kept secret. Forever after forever. I belong to Ashan.
I will never be yours.”
Tsilka’s triumph collapsed, Tor saw it, though she tried to hide the misery taking its place. He left no space in his heart
for pity.
“I would never harm your daughters, woman, but I could kill you. And I will, if you do anything to harm Ashan or Kai El. I
mean it: I will kill you if I must.”
Tsilka said she would keep the secret. But her unspoken thoughts were so strong that Tor could feel them: With all her strength,
Tsilka wished, hoped, prayed that Ashan would die.
As if even then,
Tor thought angrily,
she could have me for a mate.
CHAPTER 9
T HE S HAHALA KNEW THAT THERE WERE TWO KINDS OF death: The first, last, and only death of ordinary people; and a shaman’s death, a temporary kind that came several times
in her life, so she could learn from spirits what needed to be known.
While the second death of the Moonkeeper, Ashan, continued, the Other Moonkeeper, Tenka, never left the medicine circle.
Others can do what they want,
she thought.
I
’
m not leaving Ashan. When we lost her before, the Time of
Tsilka took her time, then answered with her nose in the air.
“I say the god Wahawkin is the father of these girls. No woman ever birthed one baby right after another like that, so people
believe me. People love them to think that their father is a god. Maybe even fear them.”
Exactly alike,
Tor thought.
Unbelievable.
He remembered a Misty Time legend about brothers born to the same mother at the same time. Hoofed animals were known to have
twins. But human twins? Not since any living person remembered. Powerful feelings surged through him. They had
his
blood!
The little girls clung to their mother like outgrown leggings. They peered at Tor with suspicious curiosity, frowns pulling
on round faces. Dark eyes captured and held him.
“What are their names?”
The proud mother patted one on the head, then the other.
“Tsurya. For the graceful water skimmer. Tsagaia. For the big tan cat. People say they are the finest children ever born.”
Tor could not disagree, though he could have picked better things to name them for than a bug and a cat.
For a long time he said nothing, allowing his eyes to feast on the twins as people feasted on the sprouts of spring. Tsilka
demanded no talk, as if she knew that her daughters could most affect their stunned father in silence.
Tsurya
…
Tsagaia…
Tor rolled the names over in his mind where they made pleasing sounds. The girls were like shy sunbeams peeking through clouds,
like sweet water quenching thirst. Moving no closer, they crawled inside him, grabbed on to something never touched, and held
on talon-tight. What was it about them that could make him feel like this? It must be that he was male, and they were female.
Precious, fragile, lovable. Girls who would grow up and be women, who carried the future within their bodies.
Tor was being overwhelmed by something close to worship. But he
must
think without passion, and
now,
or in an eyeblink he could destroy his happiness, and Ashan’s and Kai El’s. Tor had experience with the power of will, and
he was glad: It would take tremendous will to distance himself from these dangerous creatures.
He said, “It’s good that people think these are the daughters of a god. They are that special.”
A look of triumph stole onto Tsilka’s face.
He went on. “But I don’t want people thinking I’m the god Wahawkin. It’s too much work to be a god. I think I’ll tell them
I’m Wahawkin’s special friend, and they shouldn’t make me angry. That will be enough.”
Tor took a deep breath, and when he let it out, sent with it lingering feelings of awe about the twins.
“I cannot be their father, or your mate. I can only say they’ll never want anything as long as I’m alive. I promise you, Tsilka.
Now you must make me a promise: What you and I did long ago must be kept secret. Forever after forever. I belong to Ashan.
I will never be yours.”
Tsilka’s triumph collapsed, Tor saw it, though she tried to hide the misery taking its place. He left no space in his heart
for pity.
“I would never harm your daughters, woman, but I could kill you. And I will, if you do anything to harm Ashan or Kai El. I
mean it: I will kill you if I must.”
Tsilka said she would keep the secret. But her unspoken thoughts were so strong that Tor could feel them: With all her strength,
Tsilka wished, hoped, prayed that Ashan would die.
As if even then,
Tor thought angrily,
she could have me for a mate.
CHAPTER 9
T HE S HAHALA KNEW THAT THERE WERE TWO KINDS OF death: The first, last, and only death of ordinary people; and a shaman’s death, a temporary kind that came several times
in her life, so she could learn from spirits what needed to be known.
While the second death of the Moonkeeper, Ashan, continued, the Other Moonkeeper, Tenka, never left the medicine circle.
Others can do what they want,
she thought.
I
’
m not leaving Ashan. When we lost her before, the Time of
Similar Books
