

### Sacred

### Tenets

Book II in the Tenet series

By Beth Reason

Copyright 2013 Beth Reason

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be copied or resold, either for commercial or non-commercial use. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author!

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

About the Author

Other Great Books by Beth Reason

Chapter 1

Skipping the mandatory governmental migration was probably the dumbest thing Tenet Bradwin had ever done in his life. As the son of the United Council's Exalted Leader, he had lead a life in the spotlight, where every action was scrutinized and every mishap a juicy tidbit for the national press. Attempting to spend the hot, brutal months of Summer in Southland instead of boarding the transports for New Canada with the rest of his family was certainly the most illegal thing he had done. Prior to off-seasoning, the naughtiest thing he had ever done had been sneaking a little widow weed from his mother's medicine bag and sharing it with his friends behind the barns. Tenet Bradwin was a straight and narrow guy in a straight and narrow life, because that's what was expected of someone in his position.

But he wasn't really Tenet Bradwin anymore, was he? The man at the border town who fabricated a new identity for him renamed him Archibald Lorne. Archie wasn't the son of the Exalted Leader, he was a failed tomato farmer looking for a new life in the Borderlands. Archie wasn't rich or powerful. He didn't have strong government connections and there were absolutely no strings in his life he could pull if things got rough. In a nutshell, Archie was a man of little consequence, exactly as he should be.

As Tenet marched through the first long, flat stretches of the dead zone between nations, he gave the two versions of himself careful consideration. He wasn't Tenet Bradwin anymore. The long weeks of struggle for survival traipsing through the burnt ash of his homeland under the blazing Summer sun morphed the spoiled boy he was into someone else. Someone bigger, someone stronger, someone far less naive. Though he wasn't really an Archie, either, as he marched beside his new wife, he believed he was somewhere in the middle of the two.

Scarab. His wife. Angel Lorne, now, he reminded himself as he smiled at her back, working hard to keep up brutally steady pace she set. On paper they had been wed for months to throw off any suspicions of both the government they fled, and the other one they were attempting to join. In reality, it had only been a few days since the man at the border performed the world's quickest wedding and united the two. Tenet already had to remind her twice since the ceremony that he was no longer some bounty she was bringing in, and if he was a betting man, he would have laid odds that he'd have to do it again and again.

The sun was finally rising. They had been walking all through the night again, stopping to catch naps when the heat of the day got to be too much. They needed to get to the Borderlands as quickly as possible, and Scarab told him there would be hard traveling through mountains before long. They needed to take advantage of the good terrain while they could. The pace was demanding, and every step made Tenet's leg ache a little more. However, he was bound and determined not to let Scarab down again and pushed through. She had risked her life for him. It was the very least he could do.

As Scarab had predicted, the first twenty miles of the trek had been easy walking. They were crossing a wide, flat plain, and even though all roads had stopped, the hard-packed dirt under their feet created a surface almost as smooth as pavement that wound between the sparse scrub grasses. It was the easiest travel they'd had yet, and even though his leg throbbed like a bastard, Tenet was in a good mood. When the sun rose over the horizon, he was delighted to see it catch and twinkle on the morning dew. Dew! How long had it been since he saw dew?

Scarab smiled at his innocent excitement. "Well, we are about eight hundred miles north of your ranch."

The figure seemed hard to believe. In one way, the journey felt like it had taken a lifetime. In another, it seemed like it just began. "Wow," was all he could say. They rested near a stream, and Tenet couldn't resist splashing in it.

"Tenet," Scarab scoffed as he splashed her. She was sitting on a rock, swishing her feet back and forth in the cool water.

"Sorry," he said, not really the least bit apologetic. "It just feels so good after all that time in the desert."

She wasn't angry with him. In fact, his childlike excitement was rather endearing. She looked down at her feet under the water and had to agree. "Does feel good, doesn't it?"

He bounced over and sat next to her. "And that was just a month or so that I was in it. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I have no idea how the hell you hunted in the off-seasons for so long."

Scarab shrugged. "What choice did I have? Besides, it wasn't all bad. Not the Summers, anyway."

"What are Winters like?" He waved his hand broadly. "You know, if I stayed in New Canada instead of migrating."

"Horrible," was her instant reply. She pulled her feet out of the water and raised her face to the warm morning sun. "I'd take a hundred Summer bounties over one Winter one."

"It's really that bad?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

Tenet gulped, the thought of cold weather looming before him. Scarab noticed the pale tone his face had taken and tried to set his mind at ease.

"Look how different the weather is only eight hundred miles north of your ranch. Why, it's almost chilly this morning." It wasn't, not really, and the afternoon would be very hot, but he knew what she meant. Compared to the last month of mornings he'd spent, it almost did feel cold. "And while it'll be cold in winter, it certainly won't be anything near as bad as it gets in your Northern ranch. A thousand miles makes a lot of difference."

Tenet had her talking and he didn't plan to let her stop. Scarab was so used to a solitary life that Tenet often wondered if she just forgot to speak, if she was simply so conditioned to have no one around her, she just didn't remember that communication was a basic human skill. She iced him out when she was angry, that was true. But he was beginning to learn that silence with Scarab was not always an indicator of mood. When he could get her into a conversation, he made it his mission to keep it going for as long as possible. Unlike her, he liked talking and hated the long stretches of silence, even if that silence was amiable. "What's it really like in real Northern Winter?"

"Lonely," Scarab answered automatically.

"Aren't the Summers lonely for you, too?" Tenet was sorry he said it as soon as it was out. It was definitely one of those statements he made that could make Scarab clam right up again. To his relief, she actually answered.

"It's different. The winds howl, masking any noises danger might make. The snow is blinding in the day, and twirls up to be just as blinding at night. The houses are hard to get into, even with the unitool, because of the ice, and most of them have their emergency systems shut down. They don't have to keep the houses cool from the sun, and it gets so cold that the people have to empty the pipes so they won't freeze. With no water to keep running, and no air conditioning necessary, it's cheaper and easier just to shut down the electric grid. There's no power. If you do manage to make it into a house, you've got no heat and you can't very well have a fire in the middle of someone's living room." Scarab gave a small smile, and Tenet wondered if she had actually tried. "It's different. In Summer, even high Summer, there's always a back up plan. There are beacons and electricity and running water. It's tough, but in a real pinch, a hunter could always just stay in a house and wait out the worst. In Winter, a real Northern Winter, a hunter is truly alone. Until they find their captive. If they find their captive. And then all the troubles just double."

"And that's what we'll be facing," he said with dread in his voice.

Scarab laughed. "Not that bad, no. That's New Canada Winter, not Borderlands. In the Borderlands, they keep the power on, for those who have it. There are people. It doesn't turn into a frozen, isolated tundra of death and loneliness. But," she said quickly, not wanting him to think it'll be easy. "It will get cold, and there will be snow, and it will be a completely different life than what you know. We've got plenty of time to get there before it hits and make sure we've got all we need for the winter."

"Are you sure?"

Scarab gave a firm nod. "Absolutely."

Her certainty did nothing to ease Tenet's apprehension. He had seen snow. He had seen it and scrambled with the rest of his family, making their way to the warm south to start their Winter season in warm comfort, abandoning the raging storms and bitter life until the spring thaw. He had never once considered skipping the Winter migration. No one did. There were rites of passage, and then there was sheer stupidity. No one considered off-seasoning to face a real Northern Winter anything but a death wish. Only the worst of the criminal element attempted it. And now, they were heading for a life filled with winters. Nothing she could say would ease his trepidation. He knew he wouldn't relax until they made it through one.

"Come on," she said, jumping up. "Back on the road."

It was later that morning when they began to hit the rough terrain. While they were able to travel with ease for miles on the flat grassy lands the day before, they could only go half that distance in the hills before they had to stop for a breather. "Is it like this through the whole Borderland?"

Scarab shook her head. "More mountains than what you're used to, but a lot of flatlands as well. A good mix."

Tenet took a swig of water and rubbed his throbbing leg. The stitches he had received in haste after his government tracker was removed from deep within his leg were not healing well and he could feel the ache deep in his muscle. "Damn Weevil. I knew he did it wrong."

"Let me look," said Scarab.

Tenet shook his head. "No. It's not infected. Just hurts like a bastard."

Scarab sighed and started yanking up his pant leg. "Better to look at it now than cut the leg off later," she said when he protested. He threw his hands up in defeat and told her she couldn't reach the wound that way. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, far beyond embarrassment by that point. "Damn," she hissed when she saw the angry welt caked with blood.

Tenet looked down and cringed. "Ew. Now that's not good."

Weevil's half-assed stitches had popped. Weevil wasn't a doctor. Hell, she didn't really know what to call him. He helped those in desperate situations who had nowhere else to turn. Scarab frowned and poked it. Still, she figured a blind wraith could have put a better row of stitches in a wound so deep. Doctor or not, he could have at least put in a little effort instead of slapdash a few threads so he could rush off to examine the unusual object Tenet had carried inside him his whole life. Weevil hurried so he could be nosy, and if Scarab planned on seeing him again, she'd bother to prepare a speech that would scare him silly.

"Hey!"

"It's not infected yet," Scarab confirmed. "That's good." She reached into Tenet's sack and took out the emergency first aid kit they had bought at the general outpost before crossing into the dead lands. "Better get it patched up." She applied the salve, then ordered Tenet to stand so she could wrap the gauze. He stood, then immediately turned red when he realized where that put her head.

"Uh," he said, swallowing hard. "I can do this."

"Hold still," Scarab said, oblivious to his discomfort. "This might hurt."

"Might?" he squeaked when her hand darted between his legs to catch the roll of gauze.

"My, my, my. What have we here?"

Scarab jumped away from Tenet at the first sound of the unfamiliar voice, and drew the gun from her waistband before Tenet could even turn around.

The stranger stood on a rock just above them. It was a bad position to be caught in, and Scarab cursed their choice of resting spot. "Don't mind me," he said, leering at Scarab. "Please. Do continue your happy moment." He motioned towards Tenet's crotch and waggled his eyebrows. The gesture made Tenet nauseous, and he yanked his pants up as quickly as possible.

"We don't want trouble," Scarab said evenly.

The stranger put his hand over his chest. "You wound me with the insinuation, ma'am. I simply said I was enjoying the show."

Tenet tried to move to stand directly next to Scarab, but the rocks on the hill were too loose and he slipped.

"Careful, boy. Wouldn't want an accident, would you?"

Scarab cocked her gun. "We're just heading to the Borderlands. That's all. We're not stopping, we're not taking over your territory. All we want is to pass on through. If you'll move aside, we'll be on our way."

"Oh, now, missy," he said, taking a step closer. "You seem to be wise to the ways of the world. It doesn't work like that, not even here." He held his hand out. "You have to pay a toll."

"Money?" asked Tenet. He reached into his pocket and took out his temporary bank card, holding it up to the man. "There's not a lot there, but it's certainly worth the cost of letting us pass."

The man snatched it and turned it over in his hand. "A bank card?" He threw his head back and laughed. "Yes, I'll just take this to my local branch and cash it out."

Tenet's face turned red, but Scarab kept her calm.

"I need something I can eat, drink, sell, or screw. What's it gonna be?" The man's eyes told them exactly which of those options he was hoping for, and it made Tenet's hackles rise.

"There's a good stream a mile back if you're thirsty," said Scarab coldly. "And this gun should tell you how much of the rest you'll be getting from us. Take the bank card and the information about the river and consider yourself lucky that I'm in a good mood today."

The stranger didn't like it. He had the physical advantage over both of them. But she did have the gun. He seemed to consider his options before he spoke. "You make a fair argument. However, I can have that gun out of your hand before you have time to pull the trigger, and you know it. So. Why don't we drop the act and start forking over something before it has to come to that, hm?"

Tenet held his breath, begging Scarab not to do it.

"Come on, now," he said with a cracked-tooth grin. "I hate violence."

Instead of lowering the weapon, Scarab raised it, just a fraction, and had the raider's head in the sight. "I don't like the terms of the negotiation." He lunged, she pulled, and it was over, just like that.

Tenet was stunned. He watched the man's body slide down the loose rocks until it came to a lifeless rest wedged against a boulder. He looked back at Scarab. She was calmly replacing the weapon in the band of her pants, and looked up at him.

"What?" she asked, seeing the look on Tenet's face.

"You killed him."

"He was going to kill you."

Tenet frowned. "He wasn't even looking at me."

She shrugged. "He was going to get the gun out of my hand and shoot you with it. If he was planning on just killing me, I probably wouldn't have had to shoot him."

Tenet tried to wrap his mind around it. One moment there was nothing but peaceful sunshine, birds, and gentle breezes, and the next they were once again struggling for their lives. Had it really only been a couple months since his easy days of lazy comfort on the porch of his father's corn farm? In that life, in his old life as the pampered son of the Exalted Leader, he never would have had anyone attempt to hurt him or his family. He never would have had to choose life or death. And most unnervingly, he never would have had anyone by his side that would jump in and choose for him, that would value his life that much. He was stunned both with the event itself and her response to it. "So, you killed him because he was going to kill me," he said, trying to wrap his head about it all.

"Yes."

"And you, too."

Scarab knew there was no point in holding back what he'd have to know, and it might just make it easier on him the next time. "Eventually, maybe. Most likely he was going to kill you, then rape me. Maybe kill me. Maybe sell me." She nodded her head to the dead man. "I couldn't tell. Either way, you were a dead man and I wasn't about to let that happen. Now, let's go. They rarely travel alone."

The information was almost more than Tenet could handle. He looked at the dead corpse and shuddered. It looked human. But no human could possibly kill and rape as wantonly as Scarab said. "How do you know that's what he was going to do?"

"I just do, alright? Let's go."

He followed, but wasn't satisfied. "I really want to know. How can you be so sure that's what he had in mind?"

Scarab sighed heavily. "Years of practice. The look in the eye. I've taken in a lot of criminals, I know the signs."

"How can you be sure?"

She turned around and looked at him. "You don't want to know. And when I say that, I mean I don't want you to know. I don't want you to ever be able to look a man in the eye and see what exactly he's capable of, okay?"

Tenet scowled. "And why not? You seem to think you do."

"Because," she said more softly, "the only way you can is to go through it yourself." She shook her head. "I don't want you to ever know what it's like to stare down a barrel. I don't want you to ever know how it feels to be looked at as a free whore or a slave or property or...." Scarab drew a shaky breath to calm herself. "Trust me when I say that man wanted all that and probably more, and he's dead and I'm not sorry. Now, let's go."

Tenet let the words sink in as he walked behind her in silence, trying to reconcile this new life with his old beliefs. Life was sacred. From the time he was in diapers right on through to the day he made the decision to skip migration, he firmly believed in that one guiding principle. Life was sacred. It was why he'd had so much difficulty learning to eat meat, why he would go out of his way not to harm anyone. It was a good principle, a firm morality that he'd never given thought to in his old life. He accepted it because it simply was. He had no need to kill anything, for there was never anything or anyone that wanted to kill him. But that was the old life. The new life he found himself in was not that kind. It was not that placid. It forced him time and again to accept death of others at his own hands, or, if not at his hands directly, for his personal benefit. The cow that made the protein cubes he ate wasn't bled by him or chopped and cooked by him, but he still did the eating.

Tenet marched and let the scene play over in his head. There was a great difference between eating an animal for food and taking a human life. Tenet thought over the brutal scuffle, trying to see any way out of it that would not have ended with the other man dying. Scarab was right when she said the man's eyes were cold and mean. They reminded Tenet of a wraith, the terrifying mutated apes that had hunted them through the Southland Summer. Cold, calculating, murderous. Tenet knew there were bad people in the world. He knew there were even _really_ bad people in the world, the ones that were barely better than viscous animals. The man Scarab just killed was one of those, and while Tenet still firmly believed in the sacredness of life, he decided the world was better off.

He looked up ahead and watched Scarab march steadily up the hill. How was it that she could so easily see the danger and he still could not? She had said something about not wanting Tenet to know, but as he marched, that thought didn't set well inside. She wanted more for him, and he could appreciate that on a deep level. No one in his life had ever wanted "more" for Tenet, and no one else would have been so quick to jump in and save him. It was humbling and awe inspiring.

And yet, for some reason, it also really bothered Tenet. He was a man. Why did the burden have to be on her shoulders alone? The more he marched up the difficult mountain, the more he began to fume. She didn't want that for him? That may be a fair sentiment, and he certainly knew enough about himself to realize that even though it was necessary, he'd have haunting dreams about the sudden interruption of the calm morning, like he did with the wraith. Not regret so much as shock. But he was a man, not a kid. She didn't even give him a chance at proving himself in the situation. He had to rely on her for that, because she designed it that way. He didn't even have a weapon!

This was his world now, his life, and he knew it would be a harder one than he ever could have imagined. They had just started out, and already the bitter reality reared up and slapped them down. Maybe it was Fate's test of their mettle, as if that hadn't been tested enough already. And hadn't he proven himself yet? Hadn't he shown her he could handle what came his way? It had been weeks since he complained or whined. He never said "it's not fair", or pouted, or even put up much of an argument against everything he thought he knew. He put himself out there, every day, out of his comfort zone, doing what he had to no matter how wrong it felt. He wasn't the same kid with a chip on his shoulder and half a clue that he was a month ago. He had grown up, at least he felt like he had. And it galled him to his core that she couldn't see that.

By their next break, Scarab was out of breath from climbing, and he was out of breath from his silent fuming. She took a swig of water, and looked at him. "You okay? You've been awfully quiet." When Tenet only looked away, she sighed, taking his silence as a reprimand for her actions, not words. "I'm sorry it bothers you that I killed him. I know it's one of your 'things'."

Tenet's head whipped around. "Things?"

She motioned with her hand. "You know. The list of morals you have that you'll never break and all."

Tenet stood and marched over to her. "I'll have you know that's not why I'm upset!"

Scarab blinked in shock. He was furious, absolutely outraged. "Oh," was all she could say.

"If that poor excuse for a human wanted to...to..." he almost couldn't get the word out. "Rape you...he deserved that bullet and then some!"

Scarab shook her head in her confusion. "Then why are you screaming?"

He took a deep breath. "We're a team. You married me," he put his hands up to stop her when she opened her mouth. "As an escape, true," he rushed ahead. "But nonetheless, that makes us a team. I don't want you to shield me from the world. I'm a man who's capable of taking care of myself, so you can stop taking on all the burdens and share the load!"

Scarab's eyes went wide. Where had _that_ come from? "I...I uh... I don't know what to say," she stammered.

"Don't say anything. Just stop treating me like I'm a...a..."

"What?"

"A kid! I'm not a kid, Scarab. I'm older than you for god's sake! I don't know anything about this world we're in now. So what? I'll learn. I have to. And you have to stop rushing in and just assuming that I need saving."

"You _did_ need saving there, Tenet," she pointed out.

He waved a dismissive hand. "We'll never know, will we? No. Because you didn't even give me the chance. And then you have the gall to assume I'm angry because you killed something that amounted to little more than a wraith. I'm not angry that you killed that bastard. I'm angry that you still think so little of me."

Scarab had no idea he felt like that, that she made him feel like that. She had been a hunter for so long, and alone for years before that. It was just her nature to take over and lead. He was right, she did jump in because she didn't think he could handle the situation, because in her life that's always how it had to be. "I've been there before and you haven't," she justified.

He couldn't argue that. "I handled the wraith."

"Wraiths would have killed us quickly. The horror that guy wanted to inflict was like nothing you've faced before."

He wasn't about to let her win this argument. "His focus was on you. If I had been armed..."

"Which you weren't!" She looked smug for half a second.

"And why is that, hm?" He rubbed his chin in an exaggerated manner. "Let's stop and think on why it might be that I, a supposed equal partner in this endeavor, am lacking the very basic survival equipment of a weapon."

There was the condescending tone she hadn't missed at all over the last few weeks. So he hadn't gotten rid of it after all! It instantly set her teeth on edge. "I don't remember you asking to bear that burden."

"I don't remember you offering!" They stared each other down for a second before he thrust his hand out. "Give me a gun. A loaded one." At Scarab's snort, his jaw tensed again. "See? There you go, proving my point. I'm not a child. You know damned well I've been thoroughly trained at the academy, and I've proven that I can...."

"Alright!" she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. "I give." She grabbed her pack and searched through for the other weapon. "Here," she said, thrusting it at him.

He checked to see if it was loaded, then stuck it in the waist of his pants. "There. Now was that so hard?"

"Yes, if you want to know the truth," she admitted through clenched teeth.

Tenet sighed, his anger going out with the breath at her honesty. "I am amending the marriage contract," he said after a few uncomfortable moments of silence. She quirked an eyebrow. "Hey, we said we'd leave it open to amendment."

"Oh. Right."

"We're a team. And I reserve the right to chew you out when you don't treat me like an equal member of the team."

Scarab thought about it for a minute before nodding. It was a tall order, but one that he had every right to demand. He wasn't her bounty anymore, and she had to learn to stop treating him like one. She knew there would be a lot of chewing out for awhile, but she also knew she could take it. "Fair enough. But, you have to realize that sometimes I'm going to act in the moment. Like with that asshole." She held her hands up. "However, I promise to always explain why after. Sound fair?"

He stuck his hand out for her to shake, and she easily took it this time. He held her hand a second longer than necessary, but she didn't object. He gently began to circle his thumb over her wrist, and she slowly pulled away.

She stood up and put her sack back on. "Let's go." She took a step then stopped and turned back to him. "I mean, if all the members of the team agree."

He smiled, deciding to ignore the sarcasm he heard in her voice, and stood. "Sounds good to me."

"I was thinking we'll be at the peak by nightfall, and it might be a good idea to camp at top instead of trying to pick our way down the other side through the dark. That is, if that's an acceptable plan for you."

Tenet gave her a bland look. "That's fine."

"Oh, and while we're making decisions, we have to choose what's for dinner. Should it be the dried meat flavored lumps? Or would you prefer the dry soy? Personally, I don't care either way. Just want to let you have your say."

Tenet rolled his head back and looked at the sky, asking whatever powers that were what sin he committed to land him with such a difficult woman.

Chapter 2

That night turned cold at the top of the mountain. Tenet woke up shivering head to toe, searching in his sack for something warmer to wear. He put on all three shirts, and he still shivered. He didn't want to wake Scarab up, but there was nothing else to do. He nudged Scarab awake. "How do you stay warm?" he asked through chattering teeth.

Scarab hadn't really considered that his body wasn't used to handling the cold. He sat there bundled in all of his shirts and she cursed herself for not buying him a warm jacket from Narp. They'd reach the Borderlands well before winter with their seeds to trade for more supplies, and she thought that traveling light was the best way to go until then. She motioned for him to come closer. "Lie next to me. It'll warm you up."

Tenet didn't need to hear the offer twice and in seconds, her arms were wrapped around him. Heaven. He was in heaven. It occurred to him that he was the man and should be the one warming her up, but she laughed when he said as much.

"I'm not the one that's cold."

He couldn't fault her logic. And it felt so warm and safe. Warm, safe...and tempting. Without thinking about it, he wiggled closer.

Scarab pushed her palm firmly on his shoulder. "Sleep, Tenet," she ordered in as strict a voice as she could. She felt him chuckle and knew her point was made. The minutes ticked by and soon he was pulling in the deep and even breaths of sleep. Scarab shifted to be more comfortable and wished she could nod back off. He was so quickly relaxed next to her, the bastard, while everything in her body was tense and alert. She felt like giving him a little kick to wake him back up and even the score.

A branch snapped and her hand instantly went to the butt of her gun at her belt. She breathed slow and shallow, her ears straining to determine the threat. There was a shuffle in the brush, then the familiar snorting chirp of a coonskunk. She took a deep breath and tucked the gun back in the belt, and chided herself for being so jumpy. She never would have admitted it to Tenet, but the man earlier in the day really shook her up. She only hesitated a second before putting her arm over Tenet and nestling in closer.

Death was a fate she could handle. Had it been just a matter of the man wanting them to die, she wouldn't have had any qualms at all. She'd had to kill in the past, and she knew that unless the promised new government really was working as the gossip said, she'd most likely have to do it again. It wasn't the idea of death, hers, Tenet's or that vile creature's that put the fear inside. It was the look in that bastard's eyes that gave her the chills.

Scarab shivered as his face flashed in front of her. She wasn't kidding when she told Tenet she knew first hand of things worse than death. She knew that look, alright. She knew it and understood it far better than anyone ever should. It's why she became a hunter, why she chose that path. People who could do such things to other people existed and needed to be brought to justice. There was a reason she chose mostly violent bounties, a reason she allowed herself to be a tool in the gover's plan to hide the truth from the masses. She couldn't let that man live. How many times had he already...how many more if she had walked away?

But the look. The look always got her. It was the same no matter how different the man looked on the outside. That awful look of heated hatred, the eyes that flashed the dark within right before they unleashed the beast. She shivered again and squeezed her eyes tight, trying to block out what was already inside.

Tenet shifted, woke slightly. Scarab pulled back, feeling ridiculous at being caught in a moment of weakness. Tenet simply rolled over to face her, then pulled her back against him and tucked her safe in his arms. All of Scarab's past told her to push him away, to pull away, to go away. "Run," the little voice said. "Run and be alone. You don't need this." And yet, she stayed. As Tenet fell back into a deeply contented sleep, she stayed. She felt his heart beating under her cheek, and she still stayed. She smelled the mix of new clothing and man that said she was far too close, and she still stayed. The voice continued to yell at her, that familiar little voice that had always kept her safe in the past. And even though she didn't sleep a wink the rest of the night, she stayed.

When the first of the sun's rays crested the horizon and shone over them, Scarab finally pulled out of Tenet's relaxed hold. She inched herself out from under the blankets so she wouldn't wake him, then went to the bushes to take care of her morning needs. When she came back, she carried an arm full of the scrub branches that grew in the higher elevation and made a small fire. She pulled out a can of coffee and a pot, then combined the coffee with water from her canteen and set it to steep over the small fire. And then she just sat back and wondered about the night she'd just spent. Though the little voice was totally disgusted with her, she was oddly comfortable with the fact that she spent the entire night in the arms of a man.

Tenet woke a few minutes after the coffee started to bubble. "Is that coffee I smell?" he asked, rubbing his eyes with his fist.

"Thought you could use a little liquid warmth this morning. It'll be full of grounds because I don't have filters."

He pushed up from the blankets and stretched. "I like my coffee chunky," he said with a grin.

"You're in a good mood."

He shrugged. "I got a surprisingly good sleep."

Scarab reached in her pack and got out two cups. "It's the cold air," she said, suddenly embarrassed. It wasn't the air and she damn well knew it. "You sleep deeper in the cold."

"I didn't know that." He put his shoes on and tied them, then pushed to stand, wincing a little. "Any way we can make the rocks a little softer?"

"Go take your morning piss and get back here before your coffee gets cold." His good mood made hers begin to melt away. Of course he was in a good mood. Of course he got great sleep. One of them had to keep guard all night, didn't they? She stabbed at the fire with a stick, spreading the few coals around to cool faster, letting the uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment settle into the easy familiarity of anger.

Tenet came back and stretched, twisting back and forth to work out the kinks in his back, all the while keeping that damned goofy grin on his face. He rubbed his hands together quickly then sat on the rock next to Scarab. "What a beautiful morning," he said, taking the coffee. "I didn't know you bought coffee."

Scarab gave a shrug. "I suppose I should have informed you of that supply choice."

He sighed. "Are we going to do this for every single thing now?"

She wanted to pick another fight. She was much more secure with how things stood between them if they were bickering. Last night was too close and she wanted distance. "I'm sorry if I'm a little grouchy. I didn't get much sleep being on watch all night long."

He looked truly surprised. The grin was almost instantly replaced with a frown. "Oh man, I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that."

Scarab gave a little snort. "Clearly." She stabbed at the coals with more force than was necessary, sending one skittering away from the circle of stones. She stood and quickly stomped it. No need setting a scrub fire and announcing to everyone there was fresh blood in the area.

Tenet watched her face. She was obviously annoyed, but he didn't think it really had anything to do with being on watch all night. She'd been on watch their entire time together. Besides, the lady was an absolute control freak. He doubted she'd ever let him take a watch. That wasn't what was eating her. But even if he pressed the issue and called her out, she'd never come right out and say what was actually bothering her and he knew it. He'd have to reason this one out for himself and he damned well knew it. So she said the problem was night watch, eh? Well then, he'd just have to take the bones out of that debate. He wondered if he would have to spend the entire day cutting down little arguments one by one.

"You have made your point and I couldn't agree more. I should take turns on watch, and it was selfish of me not to think of it before." He drained the rest of his coffee to hide his smirk at her suddenly outraged expression. He spat a small mouthful of grounds, then tapped the empty cup upside down on a rock to get the rest of the grounds out before he handed it back to Scarab to place in the pack. "What kind of schedule would work best for you?"

She blinked at him, too frustrated to say anything. He wasn't supposed to agree and take watches. He was supposed to be sullen and contrite and walk five steps behind her in shame all day and give her some peace. "You...you don't have to do that."

"Now don't backtrack. You brought up a valid point. Should we do nightly shifts? Or would a day on/day off situation work best?"  
She shoved the cups and empty pot back in her pack. "You can't do a watch. You don't even know what you're watching for."

"I'm sure you'll teach me."

When Scarab looked up, he was grinning again. Her eyes narrowed. He wasn't playing by the rules anymore. She didn't know if she liked this new Tenet or not. "The way we've been doing it is fine. Just don't expect me to be a ball of sunshine in the morning." She cinched her bag shut with a series of quick, angry tugs. "Roll up the damn bedding and let's get off this frickin' mountain."

Tenet bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He rolled up the bedding and tied it to his pack like she had shown him. The morning was chilly, so he left the extra shirts on. Scarab had only one, and as she hoisted her pack on her back, she told him he'd regret wearing so much. "You're going to heat up fast."

"Then I'll take off the layers as needed."

She huffed, her breath making a little puff of steam in the bright morning air. "Or, you could just save us both time and take them off now."

"Yes, Mom."

She glared, then turned without another word. He let out a loud laugh that grated on her last nerve, the little voice in her head saying a cadence of 'I told you so' with every step. She moved fast and hard down the rocky terrain, glad for the grunts and frequent swearing she heard coming from Tenet behind her. He slipped and almost slid into her.

"Damnit Scarab!" He fumbled for a second, the heavy pack weighing him down. "Whatever the hell I said or did to piss you off, put it aside. I'm not a mountain goat!"

She sighed and held her hand out. He took it and she pulled him up. She wanted him as annoyed as she was, not dead. "I'll slow it down."

It was as close to an apology as he was going to get and nodded as he brushed the dirt off his hands. He gripped the straps of his pack and followed, grateful that she did, indeed, ease the pace.

They made their way down the mountain. As they lowered in elevation, they started to enter proper forest land again. Tenet was glad for the trees, but the roots and needles on the ground made the travel frustrating. As the morning progressed with more slipping and sliding from both of them, his leg began to once again throb. Damn Weevil and his half-assed way of life, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth. Around noon, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Hold up," he said, the first words either of them spoke in hours.

Scarab stopped and turned. One glance at the look on his face told her the problem. "Shit, Tenet." She took her pack off and set it on the ground, then ordered him to take his pants off.

He didn't have any fight left and flopped down. She helped him shimmy out of his pants. He didn't want to look and squeezed his eyes shut tight. He had plenty of training in healing and just by the kind of pain he was feeling, he knew what he'd see if he looked.

Scarab stared at the gaping wound and tried to will her heart to slow down. She shouldn't have pushed him. If she had taken one second to think and cool her jets, she wouldn't have. She let her own emotions get the better of her. The little voice stopped with the 'I told you so's' then, and told her instead to stop the self deprecation and help the poor bastard. She took a breath and cleared her mind. She'd berate herself later. She'd dish herself every punishment she absolutely deserved. Later. Right now, they faced a serious problem.

"You should have said it was this bad," she bit out.

He was trying to slow his own breathing. "It wasn't until I fell. I think that ripped it open again."

She gave a little poke. That wasn't the only problem, and she believed they both knew it. "It's infecting, Tenet."

"Yes."

Scarab wanted to punch him in frustration. "So I'm the only one that needs to abide by these partnership rules?" She didn't need an answer and he didn't give one. The wound was ugly, worse than the day before. "What do you have for first aid supplies?"

He took a few deep breaths, then pushed up on his elbows to look for himself. His stomach rolled with the sight, but he pulled from his experience helping his mother with her healing duties on the ranch and made himself calm down. "We'll need to get to water."

Scarab stood and looked around. "I don't see any. We've got our drinking water..."

"Which is probably contaminated. I need fresh water." He glanced around. "There's got to be a creek or something nearby. It's very green around here."

"You can't go traipsing around hoping to find one." She didn't want to leave him, but she saw no choice. "I'll leave my pack and scout." He nodded. She noticed a sheen of fresh sweat on his brow and her guilt deepened. She squatted next to him. "You've got the gun. Use it if you need to."

"I will."

"I mean it," she said, frowning. "Even a coonskunk's a threat right now."

"Yes, Mom." She ground her teeth together and gave him her fiercest look. He held up a hand weakly. "I get it, okay? Just trying to lighten the mood."

Scarab opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again, deciding to keep whatever she was thinking to herself. Without another word she stood and looked for familiar signs of water. The forest was too thick to see though, to spot a gap in the skyline. There was moss on some rocks to the west, and a cliff to the east. Moss meant water, so west it was. She took a hard look at the cliff, committing it to memory.

"If I'm not back by dark, can you get yourself to those cliffs?"

He craned his head. "Absolutely," he lied.

"If you need me, shoot and I'll come."

"Got it."

Scarab stared at Tenet another minute before he made a little motion with his hand. She turned and headed towards the moss and, hopefully, running water. Within minutes, she could no longer see either Tenet or the cliff. She felt the stab of guilt again, but forced it back. She'd need all her focus on the surrounding landmarks to be able to find her way back, and her ears strained for any sound other than the crunching of twigs and leaves beneath her feet. Even though the forest was dense and shaded, the summer heat was oppressively humid, trapped in the shell of leaves that cocooned the land all around her. Very shortly, she found her own canteen empty, and the importance of fresh water doubled.

Less than an hour away, she began to hear the gurgling of water. She couldn't help the bubble of excitement, but knew she needed to keep calm now more than ever. She couldn't let the relief cloud her concentration. It was vital to take it slow enough to remember the path, even if everything inside begged her to run to the life saving coolness of the mountain stream. Scarab kept her pace until she saw a surprisingly wide, clear stream. She nearly cried at the taste of the pure water, and refilled her canteen before taking stock of the area. If she could get Tenet here, they'd have a much easier night than the one before. There was an alcove of larger rocks that ended short of the river, leaving a sandy bank a few hundred feet down from where she stood. As long as it didn't rain, they could spend a couple of days there to let him recover. There were probably even fish in the stream.

Satisfied, she turned and made her way back to Tenet. The return trip was much slower, as she had to scan for landmarks and pick out her own signs of travel to backtrack. When she finally reached him, she found him sleeping. It was foolish to let himself fall asleep, but she couldn't find it in herself to feel anything but pity. Sure, any animal could have come and eaten him, any bandit robbed him blind and killed him, or left him for dead with nothing. But at least he wasn't feeling the pain.

Scarab gave him a little shake. "Tenet."

He moaned and his eyes rolled open slowly. He stared at her with unfocused eyes.

"Tenet," she said, more firmly, shaking his arm. When he still didn't respond, she tried to bite back the panic. "You get your lazy ass up right now or I'm leaving you here!"

He focused and let out a little snort of laughter. "Where have I heard that before?"  
Relief flooded through her. "Get up. I found water." She pulled the canteen off her belt and opened it, giving Tenet a sip. He took a few swallows and then let her pull his arm and help him stand. He wobbled, and she held him more firmly until he got his feet. "You need your pants back on. The undergrowth gets thick in some spots and we don't want you torn up worse."

He couldn't talk, just nodded forward. It was a struggle to get the pants on and keep him standing, but they managed. She ordered him to take another long sip of the water before the set off.

"You need help, tell me. We've got a good three hours or so before dark and can stop if need be."

Tenet grunted and lurched forward, regretting that he'd spent a couple hours immobile. He should have kept his leg moving and he damn well knew it. He just wanted to get there. With fresh water and perhaps a fire, he could help himself far better than he'd managed to so far. He should have demanded Weevil handle him with more care. He should have restitched himself before they left the last town. He should have spoken up last night instead of letting the exhaustion take over. He should have said something this morning. All the admonitions filled his head as he followed Scarab, and he was glad for them. They were something to hold on to, a focus. Beating himself up was keeping him going, and he let his mind continue.

Scarab did the same in her own head. One more push in this awful afternoon and they could get back on the right track. One more push and then they could start to make it right. They'd get to the river and she'd get a fire going. She'd gather whatever he needed. She'd scavenge for some greens for him to eat. Fish. Make him a bed of the branches so he could have a more comfortable night. She'd do whatever it took to apologize.

Tenet stumbled several times, but shook off her hand each one. Scarab knew that look in his eye, the determination she'd felt herself so many times over the years in a bad situation. That look told her to back off and let his adrenaline control the situation or it would be too late. "Don't touch me or I'll lose it," his eyes said. She felt a surge of pride at it, then quickly chastised herself. He wouldn't have to suffer through it like this if it weren't for her. Besides, what right did she have feeling proud? It wasn't her place. She was foolish and ridiculous and...

"There," she said, pointing her finger ahead, grateful the miserable trek was almost over. "It's right over that last rise. If you listen you can hear it."

Tenet gave a nod. "I'll listen when we're sitting next to it," he said through clenched teeth. He couldn't let his relief take over the adrenaline. He put his head down and marched forward. "One more step," he told himself over and over.

Scarab heard him chant the mantra. She didn't think he knew his was speaking out loud and said nothing. When they pushed through the scrub bushes that lined the river, he finally gave up and slid to the sand with almost no sound. Scarab stripped her pack and knelt beside him. He definitely had a high fever. She opened his shirt and tugged off his pack. She rolled him enough to push one of his extra shirts under his head as a pillow and took the third shirt to the river to get it wet. She wrung out the water and placed the cool, damp shirt around his forehead, knowing she had to get his body temperature down. With that done, the next step was getting the pants off again, a task far more difficult with him dead-weight. Relief flooded through her when she noticed that the wound was still awful, but no worse than earlier. She patted his good thigh. "You're one strong bastard, I'll give you that."

Scarab let out a long sigh. It felt good to speak out loud, helped her calm down. "Wish you told me what to do before you passed out." She knew basic first aid, of course. She knew how to raid the nearest farmstead for the proper medicine or equipment to treat a myriad of diseases, injuries, and ailments. They didn't have a farmstead, though. They had no equipment. They were utterly on their own, completely reliant on whatever Tenet packed for first aid supplies. She pulled his pack closer and rummaged through until she found the white life-saving box. "Please, please let him have been anal about this one thing," she whispered to the sky before opening the kit.

Silver compound, thread, needles, syringes filled with...something. Packets of dried herbs. She snorted at that. "Fat load of good that does me." He'd have to wake up and tell her what they were before she knew if they'd be useful. That explained the need for water, though. She shuffled through the many little herb packets and her hands brushed a small bottle. She picked it up and read the label, then grinned when she saw it was a common antibiotic. "Good boy!"

Setting the supplies aside, she stood and looked around for enough dead wood to make a fire. Even though the water looked clear and clean, she'd still have to boil the water before adding the antibiotic liquid to it to create a poultice for his leg. Working as quickly as she could, she made the fire, scrubbed the dried coffee bits out of the pot with some wet sand, and put the water on to boil while she got Tenet's forehead rag wet with fresh, cool water. His head was still hot, but cooler, and she knew getting him undressed had been the right thing to do.

While Scarab was straining to read the tiny printed directions on the bottle of medicine, Tenet woke with a start. "We made it," he said weakly.

"Yes. Now lie still."

"Thirsty," he croaked out.

She jumped up and got out her canteen, holding his head up so he could drink.

"How's it looking?" he asked after a long gulp.

"Better than it was an hour ago, that's for damn sure." Hearing his voice so strong and clear gave her a buoyant feeling. "And you woke up just in time to tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do."

"There's some bactinated tincture in my pack..."

She held up the bottle. "Got it."

"Get some water boiling..."

"Check. Next?"

He gave a little laugh. "I like an eager student." He pushed up on his elbow and winced. "I need the scarlet pinnacle leaves," he said, sobering with the pain.

"Which are they?"

"They're labeled."

Scarab looked through the little packets until she found it. "Got it."

"Now, take three leaves and put them in the water."

"Add the tincture?"

"No. Not yet." He watched Scarab walk to the fire and count out three leaves. "Now take it off the fire and let it steep for about twenty minutes."

"I don't have a watch."

"They leaves will turn brown and soft when they're ready." He pushed himself up further. "Besides, we need to get this cleaned and stitched first, and that'll take at least that long."

Scarab looked horrified. "If we stitch you first we'll just be sealing in the infection!"

He shook his head. "Won't matter. We've got to fight it from the inside at this point, and I'll leave a gap for drainage anyway." When Scarab said nothing, he looked up and almost laughed at her horrified expression. "It'll be fine. I've got a plan. Prop me with my pack and give me the first aid kit."

Scarab jumped to help, and in a few minutes had assisted in setting up the needle and thread for suturing. He took the cap off one of the syringes. "What is that?" she asked.

Tenet took a quick couple breaths, steeling himself from the pain he was about to cause his own leg, then stabbed the needle into his upper thigh, releasing a string of curses loud enough to drown out the sounds of the river. He leaned back and panted, spent. Without a word, Scarab pulled the needle from him, then wiped his forehead again with the wet shirt.

"That was morphine," he panted. "And I've only got a few more minutes before I'm looped out on it." He pushed up and took the little bottle of the tincture. He opened it and dribbled some directly in the wound, glad the morphine was already taking the edge off. Still, it burned like a bastard and he asked Scarab to flush it with fresh water. Once that was done, he dribbled more tincture on it and writhed with the burn. Scarab bent down to blow on it, trying to lessen the sting, and Tenet almost laughed. It was like trying to dam a river with a pebble. Things started to wobble in his vision. "Aw hell."

"What? What's the matter?"

"I...I can't...it's all woozy on me. I don't have enough time."

She swallowed hard and squeezed her fists tight. "What do I need to do?"

"Sew it. Best you can. One loop, knot, snip. Do another. Weevil put 'em all together like I was a blankie." Tenet's words were starting to slur and his eyes were getting droopy. "'S why they ripped. Do one at a time."

"How many? Come on, Tenet. Stay with me! How many stitches do I put in?"

Tenet was fading fast. He felt her shake him by the arms and almost shout her commands in an attempt to keep him awake. "At least ten," he answered, forcing his mouth and mind to work together for just a few more minutes. "The more the merrier."

"What do I do with the boiled water?"

"Add the stuff." He nodded off again and she shook him hard.

"Goddamn it Tenet stay awake just one more minute! What do I do with it?"

"I gotta drink it." His eyes popped open and focused for just a second. His hand found hers and he gave it a squeeze. "You got this, wife."

Scarab was so startled she let go of his arms and he flopped back, rolling off his pack. She moved the pack, then pulled him over, laying him flat on his back. The sun was starting to set and she knew she had less than an hour to get this done. "You got this," her internal voice insisted, echoing Tenet's words. She took a deep breath, picked up the needle, and hoped her best was good enough.

By the time fifteen mostly neat little stitches were in place, she was covered in sweat and shaking. There was room for one more stitch, but he had said something about leaving a gap for drainage. She hesitated a second before deciding to leave it. The stitching was done and she sat back on her heels and shook with relief. She did it. The worst was done.

After a quick drink of cold water, she poured a little of the tincture directly on the fresh stitches, then applied a smear of silver compound to keep out any dirt. Once it was wrapped, good and tight this time, Scarab combined some of the remaining tincture with the steeped herbal tea. She dipped a cup in, not really knowing how much to give him, then awkwardly propped his head on her knee as she tried to get him to drink some.

"Dammit Tenet, open your mouth right now!" She hadn't meant to yell, and she almost felt bad for it. But when his eyes popped open and he moaned, she yelled again. "Come on, you bastard! You made me do all the dirty work but I can't do this part for you." He gave a little snort, which she had to assume was his best attempt at a laugh, and then opened his mouth enough to swallow. He nodded off quickly, only able to take a few sips, but she knew it was the best he could do at that moment.

Scarab eased out from under him, then set about making a better camp. Tenet needed to be on the blanket, not the sand, and it took nearly the rest of her strength to roll and shift him back and forth until it was underneath. Panting with exhaustion, she looked around the little area. There was so much she wanted to do to make them a better set up. She wasn't sure what wildlife was around, and neither had eaten much at all that day. She should get up and at least try to fish. Or gather firewood. She was simply too spent to do either. In the end, she unrolled her own bedroll on top of them and nestled against Tenet's side.

Sometime in the night, Tenet cried out and Scarab bolted up, her hand on her gun ready for whatever was about to attack. In the faint light of the moon she couldn't see anything, and after the rush of adrenaline-fueled blood calmed, she couldn't hear anything, either. The fire had gone nearly out, and she cursed herself for letting that happen. She stumbled around looking for the pile of branches she had quickly gathered earlier and heaped them on top of the coals. Crossing her fingers and puffing with all her might, she soon had the fire back to a decent level.

Tenet cried out again. Scarab hurried to check his bandages. There was no sign of bleeding. She gave a mental cheer for herself and grabbed the cup of tea. "Come on, Tenet. Let's have some of this."

He mumbled, his head tossing to the side.

"Tenet. Come on." She pulled his head back towards her and was relieved to find it covered with sweat and cool to the touch. She couldn't help the grin. "You tough little bastard," she said with a laugh. A heavy weight was lifted from her. She knew right then that he would make it through. She eventually got him to drink a few sips of the cold, nasty smelling concoction, then she slipped back under the covers beside him and fell into a much deeper sleep.

Tenet was the first to wake in the morning, coming out of his haze slowly. He felt as if he was floating at first, his head swimming and his eyes blurry. He closed his eyes tightly as the throb in his leg cut through the fog and brought him to full consciousness. He took a deep breath, then another, trying to concentrate on anything besides the pain. His last memory was of watching Scarab walk away from him. He was proud that he held it together that long before it all went blank. He could hear the river, so they somehow made it. And the brightness on the other side of his closed eyelids meant it was still day. Or the next day? Where was Scarab?

Tenet opened his eyes and blinked over and over until the waving leaves and bright sky overhead came into focus. He turned his head to the side and saw a cup sitting nearby and suddenly realized just how thirsty he was. He tried to move his arm, but was so weak he found the task nearly impossible. His mind instantly flashed back to that day a couple months ago when he lay helpless in his own back yard, thinking he was crippled and bent and broken when he had no more than a case of dehydration and an arm that fell asleep. As embarrassing as it was to be found in that pathetic condition, he wished his problems this time were as mild as then.

He took a deep breath and willed his body to move. Again, nothing happened. It was as if something was holding him in place. He turned his head and found out exactly what that was. Scarab was sleeping, her arm and leg over his, holding him and snoring softly. He wasn't sure if he was still sleeping or not, and blinked several times. She was still there. It was real. Suddenly he didn't want to move at all.

Scarab came awake with a start and lifted her head up. The motion made Tenet think of the prairie dogs they had on the farm and he couldn't help but laugh.

"You're awake." She blinked at him, trying to get her bearings. It was full light. She'd slept far too long. And he was already awake and probably miserable with pain and... Before she could chide herself further she jumped up and away from him, and Tenet instantly felt the loss of her beside him. She rubbed her eyes and squatted down on the other side of him. "You should have woken me," she snapped.

Tenet knew she was embarrassed and the thought intrigued him. He tried to speak, but couldn't get any words past his dry lips. She took the cup to the pot next to the fire and refilled it, then came back.

"Can you sit?" she asked.

He honestly didn't know, but planned on giving it his best shot. He pushed up on his elbows, wincing at the movement. She was there, helping, her arm under his neck guiding him up. He felt the hard support of his pack being shoved behind him and heard her order to lean back. She was so close, leaning over him, holding him...

"Tenet," she snapped again. "Focus."

He felt the cold rim of the cup against his lip and opened and began taking big gulps of the horrid elixir. He'd never had to drink it himself and always thought the people who did were being babies when they complained of the foul burn. He'd never think badly of them again. He drank as much as he could tolerate, then shook his head when his stomach clenched. "Enough," he said.

Scarab frowned down at him. "How much are you supposed to drink for this crap to work?"

"I'd say about that much," he lied. He cleared his throat and pushed up higher, feeling a little stronger and definitely more focused.

Scarab was studying him silently, still squatting on her heels. She was assessing him and he suddenly felt naked. She saw him start to squirm and gave his shoulder a pat before rising. "I'll be right back, then we'll see about your leg."

Tenet heard her make her way to the bushes, glad to have her penetrating look off him. He must look as bad as he felt and wished he could clean up. The thought made him laugh in its absurdity.

"What's so funny?" she asked, tucking her shirt back into her pants. He watched her walk to the river and wash her hands, then cup the water and take a big drink before splashing another handful over her face. She wiped the water off with her sleeve then stood and turned back to him. "Okay. Let's see what the night did."

As soon as she moved the blanket, Tenet realized he was all but naked. He felt the heat creep into his face.

"I did the best I could," she said, slowly unwinding the bandage, pausing when he winced.

"Do it," he urged through clenched teeth.

Scarab hesitated only a second before ripping the bandage off all at once. She shouldn't have paused at all and she knew it. She never would have for anyone else, and the thought was disturbing. Keeping her head down so he couldn't see the immediate flush in her face, she began to examine the wound. There was some seeping out of the tiny, un-stitched sliver, but the rest looked better than it had the night before.

Tenet leaned forward enough to see her handiwork, ignoring the sudden burn and throb the action produced. Not bad, he admitted to himself. Even stitches. Perhaps a few more than was strictly necessary, but it would make less of a scar. And silver compound over the top...brilliant! He didn't know that he would have thought to use the burn cream in that application, but it made sense. He glanced up to find Scarab staring at him intently.

"Well?" she asked quietly.

Scarab needed his reassurance. The thought hit him hard. For the first time, he truly felt like she valued his opinion. He cleared his throat and nodded. "It looks great."

The relief on Scarab's face was unmistakable and she couldn't hide her smile. She turned and busied herself with preparing a clean bandage. "Should I put some of this over it?" she asked, holding up the tincture.

"No. We better save that in case we need it again. There's not much left."

She frowned. "Sorry. I didn't know how much to use."

"Not your fault," he said quickly. "I should have bought more."

She smeared more silver compound over the wound. "It's not as red as yesterday," she commented. "Or as hot."

She was insecure and needed more from him. The revelation stunned Tenet. She actually needed something from him for a change. "You did a great job. I don't know if I could have done such a field dressing."

Scarab shot him a wry smile. "Yeah, sure. I've seen your work for myself."

"In a stead with equipment and proper medicine," he insisted. He took her hand and gave it a small squeeze. "Trust me. You did great."

Scarab realized that he picked up on her vulnerability and felt a fresh wave of humiliation burn. She pulled her hand away and stood, quickly putting distance between them. She struggled for something to say that would put them on more familiar and comfortable territory. "You...you need to eat something," she blurted, then turned to the packs.

Tenet wanted to press the issue, wanted to talk her back into that intimate moment they just shared, but he knew she wouldn't allow that. Besides, it would take more energy than he had. His fever may have broken and the worst passed, but he felt weaker than he ever had in his life. He found he didn't even have the energy to tell her he didn't think he could handle any food. He slid a bit lower into a more comfortable position and simply watched her. He never just watched her work before, and it was clear with her concise and exact movements that she was in her element.

Scarab knew he was watching her and still felt the embarrassment of vulnerability, but decided that work would get things back on track. She built the fire up quickly, large enough to boil more water. The disgusting medicinal tea was poured into Tenet's cup to drink later, and the pot was once again scrubbed with sand and rinsed in the river. When it was clean, she dipped it in and filled it halfway with fresh water, then put it on the fire to heat. With that accomplished, she rummaged in her pack to pull out the bag of protein cubes. Three of them went into the water, then she tossed one more in when her stomach rumbled. They both needed as much nutrition as they could get, and she did plan on foraging and fishing later. Within moments, the cubes began to dissolve in the quickly heating water. Once it got to a full boil, she pulled the pot off and dipped her own cup in. She poured a bit of cold water from her canteen in to cool it off, then knelt by Tenet and helped him sit forward.

Tenet didn't know which tasted worse, the tincture tea or the protein broth. He took several sips, glad for the heat of it even if it tasted horrible. The warm liquid unclenched his cramped stomach and filled him with a comfortable sleepiness. "That's all I can do," he whispered as his eyelids grew heavy again. He felt her lower his head and then faded back out of consciousness.

Scarab was very pleased he'd stayed awake so long. And she was equally pleased that he passed back out. She needed some time alone to get her own thoughts back in order and get this journey back on track. She drank down her own broth slowly, not minding the taste at all. She was used to it. How many times had a warm cup of protein cube broth saved her life in the winters? The liquid revitalized her, and by the time she was rinsing her cup and pot in the river, she felt better than she had in days. The sun was warming the area quickly, and while the fire wouldn't be necessary for heat, it was doing a great job of keeping away mosquitoes. First order of business was to gather more wood.

"No," she thought, catching a whiff of herself. The very first order of business was a bath. A glance at Tenet told her he was still fully out, and she was sure he would be for awhile. She got clean clothes ready and placed them next to the bank as she peeled off the sweaty, filthy clothes she'd been in for three long, hot days. The cold water caught her breath as she waded in, but she pushed forward until she was waist deep. One bracing deep breath, then she dove under. She came up almost giggling with the rush of cold abandon, a sudden memory taking her back to one of the happy days of childhood. Her little sister loved to swim. Their mother called her "the little angel fish". She'd stay in the river next to their stead as long as possible, from dawn to dusk in the summers if their mother allowed. "Swim with me, Emma," she'd say as she splashed around. It was so real, she had to squeeze her eyes closed against the haunting words from so long ago. She pushed herself up and back out to the bank, the ache in her chest that she managed to ignore for years suddenly threatening to swamp her if she stayed and let it hurt.

Out of the water, Scarab sat on a rock to let the air dry her, hugging her knees to her chest and watching Tenet for any signs he was waking. He began to snore and for some reason, it took some of the heaviness away. She idly stroked the thin red scar on her chest. She wasn't being modest when she told him his skills at healing were superior to hers. Equipment and medicine could only speed the healing, but it took someone who really knew what they were doing to take the jagged flesh she knew she had after the wraith attack and put it back together almost as if it never happened. His own scarring would be far worse, even though the wound wasn't nearly as large. She felt the guilt of it again. She'd have to apologize to him for driving him so hard when she was angry. Perhaps the infection was inevitable, she admitted to herself. But it was still her own need for distance and revenge that brought it about so horribly.

Tenet let out a loud snore and shifted in his sleep. Scarab watched from her perch and thought back to the first time she met him. He lay pathetically useless in the ashy sands of his father's corn ranch, babbling about broken bones or some shit. Scarab gave a little laugh. How quickly things changed. She wondered if the Tenet she first met, that whiny, pampered, spoiled kid could have lasted five minutes with a wound like he had now. She couldn't imagine the bellyaching she would have had to endure. So much had changed in such a short time, and Scarab couldn't help but feel bad for that. She meant what she had told him earlier. She never wanted him to get hard like her. If he did, then he wouldn't be Tenet. She was sorry she had to be the one to toughen him up. But facts were facts and life didn't usually leave room for choice. He had to toughen up, and he was. She knew he had to be in incredible pain with his stitches ripped open from the muscle-deep wound. And did he stop? Did he lay in the ashes and whine again? No, he didn't. For some reason, that just made her guilt so much worse. She would have to make it up to him. She would have to apologize, she just had no idea how.

Sighing heavily, Scarab got off the rock and quickly dressed, then gathered all the dirty clothes and set about scrubbing them against the rocks. She didn't have soap, but the worst of the dirt and sweat would come out anyway. She swapped out the shirt under his head for one of his pair of clean pants and added all three shirts to the wash. He could stay under the blanket for the day if he was cold, and by night the shirts would be dry. When the clothes were as clean as they were going to get, she wrung them out and laid them over the scrub bushes near the river bank to dry in the hot summer sun.

That task done, Scarab looked around and considered what to do next. They needed a better shelter and they needed food. She hadn't actually fished since she was a child and thought hard about the experience. It seemed that they always fished in the morning or the evening, so she decided to work on the shelter first and hope her memory was correct. Taking a large knife off her belt, she went into the forest and began hacking down evergreen branches. The work was slow and hot, and several times after she dragged a load back to the bank, she stopped to dunk her head into the river and take a long drink. By early afternoon, though, she had enough large branches to construct the frame of a makeshift shelter, and enough small branches to work together to create a roof. The sun worked itself around to shine directly down on the camp, and she was very pleased to note that the shelter shielded Tenet from the burning rays.

Food was next. It was hot afternoon, and she didn't think she'd have much luck fishing yet, so she started walking up the river bank, looking for any edible vegetation. Though she wasn't an expert in edible plants in this particular region, she did recognize blackberries. She returned to the camp to get the pot, then backtracked and filled it with the tart fruit. She didn't care for them very much, but they were full of vitamins. Besides, Tenet loved all that fresh crap. She rinsed them in the river, then set them to the side of the fire, planning on cooking them to a soft fruit soup he'd have an easier time eating.

That done, Scarab determined that it was cool enough in the late afternoon to try fishing. She cut down a long stick from the edge of the forest and tied some of the first aid thread around the end, tugging hard to make sure it wouldn't wiggle off. Satisfied that it would stay put, she tapped her fingers on her lap wondering what to use for a hook. She remembered the empty morphine syringe. She took it to the river and pulled the plunger, then pushed it out over and over to clean any remaining medicine from the needle. It was thin and not very strong, but with a little heat from the fire, she was able to bend it into a nasty, sharp hook. She took her knife and cut the syringe just above the needle, leaving a circle of plastic to tie the string to. For bait, she dug around under the rocks until she found a grub, then held her breath and threw her line into the water.

Fishing was a trial of patience. Scarab remembered that about half an hour later when she was sitting on the rock, dangling her feet in the water, and about to give up in frustration. All that work to make a pole and hook for nothing. She sighed heavily and pulled the line in for the umpteenth time. One more, she told herself, and then she'd give up for the night. It was starting to get darker and she'd need to wake Tenet to feed him. He hadn't woken for more than five minutes the rest of the day, and only then to croak for some water. She swatted a mosquito off her leg. That did it. Time to get closer to the fire and...

There was a quick, sharp tug on her line. Thinking it had snagged on yet another rock, she pulled it harder. When she felt a wiggling tug in response, she jumped up and flicked her wrist, launching her line and the fish on the end up the banking between two rocks behind her. It wasn't graceful, but she didn't care. It worked! With a hoot of excitement, she scrambled over the brush and pinned the flopping fish with her foot. She unclipped her knife and made a cut right behind the head, causing the fish to jitter for only a second more before going still. She grabbed the slippery trophy and held it above her head. "Ha! Gotcha you mother..."

Tenet's bark of laughter cut her off. Instead of being embarrassed at being caught so excited over something so small, she held her fish in his direction. "I got us dinner!" She looked at the fish. Though she hadn't eaten a fresh fish in ages and couldn't begin to tell what kind it was, the plumpness and overall length promised a good dinner. Her stomach rumbled. After a day of work, she needed it. It took a few minutes and a few hacking attempts as she tried to remember how to clean her prey, but soon the head and guts were tossed into the river for Nature to eat and she was running a stick through the spine to dangle their meal over the fire.

Tenet was sitting almost completely up. His eyes were clear and shiny in the fire light, no signs of fever remaining. He had the top blanket draped around his shoulders, and his bare legs were stretched towards the fire. "I've never had fish," he said. When Scarab grinned up at him, he frowned. "Not intentionally, anyway."

She didn't have to say that some of the protein bars they ate contained fish. Her look said it all. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to admire our posh new house." He waved a hand at the shelter above them.

"Like it?"

Tenet shrugged. "It could use a throw pillow. Maybe some paint."

Scarab's gaze instantly met his, and he gave a wink and a laugh. "I see you're feeling better," she said with a wry smile.

"Much," Tenet confirmed.

"Good." She moved the stick over to make room for the pot of berries on the fire. "I found some blackberries down the way. Thought you might appreciate a little fresh food."

"Thanks." They sat in silence for a few minutes before he shifted and caught a flash of his bare leg in the firelight. "Uh, could I have some clothes?"

"Shit!" she said, jumping up. "I forgot the clothes!" She raced into the darkening night and he heard rustling, swearing, and a splash...followed by more swearing. When she came back in the firelight, she was frowning and carrying a wad of clothes under one arm while holding a dripping pair of pants out away from her with the other. "Well, most of them are dry." She tossed him a shirt and pants, then flung the wet pants off to the side. She'd worry about them tomorrow. "We should look at your wound before you get dressed."

"Already did. It's looking good."

"How long were you awake?"

Long enough to watch her in the setting sun, the light in her hair as she set her jaw in determination to get them a fish. He wouldn't tell her that, though. He wouldn't tell her how much he'd watched. "I woke up thirsty and then had to find a bush."

"I didn't even hear you."

He shrugged off her discomfort. He knew she'd chastise herself for not being more alert. "You were next to the river. Drowned out the noise." Her frown deepened. "Let it go, Scarab. I was obviously fine, right? And I would have called if I needed help." He pushed himself up, only wincing slightly, and she turned back to the fire, suddenly intent on cooking.

Tenet smiled to himself as he pulled on his pants, then the shirt. In truth, he was feeling worlds better. The tea did its job and he knew the infection was already receding, and her stitches were holding nicely. He knew he couldn't do any serious traveling for a few days yet, but he could, and should, start moving around. "That scarlet pinnacle is potent stuff. I should have gotten more of it. Do you think they'll have it in the Borderlands?" He sat back down carefully, finding a comfortable position for his leg.

"I have no idea," she said, poking at the fish. "I don't know anything about plants."

He gave a nod. "I'm sure they'll have something like it. Do they have healers up there?"

"Of course," she said, wiping her hands on her pants. "People get sick up there probably far more than they do in your neck of the woods." She poured some water into their cups and handed him one. "You need any more of that leafy crap?"

He grinned. "No. I don't need more leafy crap." He took a long sip of the cold water. "If they have healers," he said, continuing his thought. "Then they must have medicines."

"Of course."

"What about equipment?"

Scarab felt a comforting relief inside. He truly was feeling better if he was peppering her with questions again. "Why the sudden interest in the medical capabilities of the Borderlands?"

He gave a little shrug and leaned back. "Just thinking about what I can do up there. I highly doubt I'll make it as a tomato farmer," he finished drolly.

Scarab laughed outright at that. "Why? You farmed corn. How different can it be?"

He spat out his water, completely flabbergasted. "How different can it be? How different can it be!?"

"Growing's growing, right?"

Was she even serious? "That is the most ignorant thing I have ever heard you say."

Scarab rolled her eyes. "Oh, here we go with professor time..."

Tenet crossed his arms over his chest. "You're damn right it is. I'd think as the wife of a tomato farmer, you'd want to know just a little about the basics of growing plants." He tsk-ed and shook his head. "How different can it be," he muttered in disgust.

Scarab sighed. "Fine. Lesson time. But eat your dinner while you talk." She handed him over a cup of the mashed berries and a portion of fish on a leaf. They spent the remainder of their waking evening hours deep in conversation about the differences in growing plants.

They spent the next day deep in conversation about the different types of tomatoes and the environmental requirements.

They spent the day after with Tenet following her around explaining soils, and drainage, and water, and fertilizer, and Scarab trying desperately to concentrate on absolutely anything else.

By the third day, Scarab had enough of plants, seeds, and soil to last a lifetime. When Tenet asked her to once again recite for him the specific requirements for the optimal production of roma tomatoes, she'd had it.

"Stick the seeds in a pile of shit and let it rain on them forever!" She bellowed, snatching the clothes off a bush and cramming them into her pack. "That's how you grow them. Just like you grow corn. And wheat. And alfalfa sprouts and every other stupid plant!"

Tenet blinked in surprise. "I...uh...suppose you've probably had your fill on..uh...growing."

She turned and put her hand on her hip, her eyes burning into him. "Ya think?"

They just stared at each other for a few tense seconds before she burst out laughing. Tenet wasn't sure if she went off the deep end, and his wary look fueled her laughter.

After a few minutes she wiped her eyes. "Oh shit, Tenet. Your face. It was like I told you I kicked your puppy."

Tenet sighed heavily. "Make a joke of it. Go ahead. It was only my life's work. Not important or anything like that."

The close isolation of the camp had got the better of her. The laughter at his expense took the tension out of it and she no longer wanted to strangle him. "Sorry, Tenet. I wasn't making fun of your life's work, as you put it. I know agro's important to you."

"And it should be important to you, too. If we're going to pass for tomato farmers..."

"Failed tomato farmers," Scarab corrected.

"Even failed tomato farmers know the basics," Tenet pointed out. "If you go in there completely ignorant of..."

"Alright!" she said, putting her hands up. "I give. You're correct. Now, I think three straight days of talking about seeds, dirt, and shit has given me the basics, okay? I've got it."

Tenet's anger faded and he gave her a small smile. "I guess it is kind of overkill to talk about it for three straight days."

Her cocked eyebrow was her only answer. "Come on. Help me tear down the shelter before we head out."

"Why tear it down?"

"Why erase your tracks through the ash?"

"Ah," said Tenet, seeing what she was getting at. "So no one can find us. Right." He grabbed the branches from the roof and started pulling them apart like Scarab. He watched her fling them randomly away, and he did the same. "I didn't think we were still hiding tracks."

"Circumstances made it so that wasn't a top priority." Scarab walked to the river and tossed a larger support branch as far as she could into the water. She picked off a chunk of pine pitch off her palm, then rinsed her hands in the water while she considered keeping it to herself just how sloppy they had been. She had been, her mind corrected. She was the one who had been sloppy, not Tenet, and she wouldn't place any of that blame on him. She watched him for a second, kicking the ashes from the fire into the sands around it, still stiff in one leg but clearly determined. "It's not going to fool anyone who's been trained."

Tenet looked around, trying with a critical eye to see signs of human camp. "I don't know. I think it kind of looks like a storm hit or something."

Scarab smiled to herself. Okay, agro boy. Payback time. This equality thing could be fun. "Have you ever seen a storm that hit fifty feet of sheltered riverbank and nowhere else?"

"We threw those sticks pretty far."

"I'm not talking about just the sticks." She walked to where the campfire had been. "There's ash."

"It's blended. By the time that sun hits, it'll dry it out and..."

"And anyone can still smell it a mile away. The only reason you can't is because we've been around it for days. We've gotten used to the smell."

"Should I bury it deeper?"

"You could."

Tenet used the side of his foot to push fresh sand up and over where the fire had been. "There."

"Fine. Now step back and take a look at the shore line."

Tenet did, then frowned. Everything was flat and smooth and tapered down to the water except the hill of fresh sand. It stuck out like a sore thumb. "Okay," he said with a smile. "You got me. How do we cover that?"

"We don't. We can't. There is absolutely nothing you could do right now to cover up the fact that we had fires here. Feel how humid it is? The smell has seeped into the damp wood around us. Even if you could successfully hide that ash pile, even if you spent hours carting it to the river then smoothed it over with bucket of water, the smell is still hanging around in the moss, in the grass, in the wood..."

Tenet scoffed. "Then what do we do?"

"Don't have fires. If we want to hide from a hunter, that's what we do." She glanced up at the sky. "Also, we get moving. We've been here far too long."

"I'm all for that." Tenet picked up his pack and hoisted it onto his back, giving a small grunt. While the days of rest were both needed and appreciated, the month of constant activity had worked itself into his psyche and he was itching to move.

"You let me know if the pace is too much."

It wasn't a question. "I will," Tenet promised.

She hoped he would, but doubted it. There was a stubborn streak in this man she was learning contradicted her initial impressions of him. Over and over he proved to her that he was just as determined as she was, even if the reasons behind his layer of steel were different. "I mean it, Tenet. It'll do far more harm if you push it too hard and backslide..."

Tenet let out a long suffering sigh. "Anything else, Mom?"

Scarab clamped her lips shut and turned around, starting their march along the river.

"Why are we following the river?"

"Because it's got a nice scrubby bank for hundreds of yards," she said over her shoulder. "It'll hide track better."

"Won't it take us out of our way?"

Scarab had to laugh at that. "Consider it a back street instead of the paved golden road we were following."

Tenet kept his eyes lowered, a trick she taught him early to keep from getting a headache from the constantly moving scenery, and bit back a smile at her sarcasm. His leg was slowly shaking off the stiffness of immobility, and even though he was limping slightly, he was sure the wound wasn't going to be a problem again. He stumbled over a loose rock and decided to keep his mind on the task at hand.

They walked along the bank in silence, picking their way over increasingly slippery rocks. The river narrowed and sped up, causing the rocks to be wet from the spray and roiling splash of the faster water. Tenet didn't know how many miles they'd traveled. It was hard to tell when the pace was so different than that of plowing through the flat fields of ash, a nice well-traveled road, or even a path through a thick forest.

"We can't keep this up," Scarab said loudly to be heard over the rushing water. She turned and made her way through the scrub and up a small hill to a thin stand of white barked trees.

Tenet had never seen anything like them and stopped to have a look. He ran his hand over the smooth, pretty bark. "What are these?"

"Trees," she said before taking a long swig from her canteen.

Tenet rolled his eyes. "Thanks. I never would have guessed."

She shrugged. "Anytime. Take a drink. How's your leg?"

"It's fine."

"Need a rest?"

Tenet shook his head. "No."

"Good, because we're only about a few miles from the camp. The river turned nasty faster than I thought it would. Hungry?"

He shook his head, took a drink of water, then snapped the canteen back on his belt. "So where do we go now?"

"North following the river. The trees are thinning, so we'll have to cut East by the looks before too long."

"Why?"

"There's no cover in the thin trees. I'd prefer to stick to something a little more substantial."

To Tenet, that made no sense. "We had no covering at all up on the mountain."

"Yes, but the mountain peak gave us an excellent vantage point. It was a strategic trade-off."

Tenet hadn't thought about that. "I guess that makes sense."

"Yes. Now, if the tracking lesson is over, let's see if we can eat up a few more miles before we're done for the day."

"We can talk and walk," he suggested.

"Or we can just walk and walk."

Tenet sighed. "I can't help it if I like a little conversation with my boredom."

Scarab let out a bark of laughter. "No shit. I didn't notice."

She had begun to walk, and Tenet scrambled to catch up. "What's wrong with talking?"

"I just prefer to keep business business, that's all."

"I'm not business anymore," he said, sounding hurt.

She stopped and turned to him. "That's not what I meant. This, this is my business." She waved a hand around them. "Moving. Running. Having somewhere to be as quickly and efficiently as possible, and keeping two things in mind the entire time: get there safe, get there unseen. That's what bounty hunting is. It's what I know."

"And you can't do that while talking?"

"Not to the best of my ability, no."

Tenet crossed his arms over his chest. "You've been talking the last three days," he pointed out.

She had to laugh at that. "No, I'm pretty sure it was you doing the talking, Captain Agro. I was trying my hardest to tune you out."

He wasn't offended. He knew it the whole time.

"Besides, we weren't running then." She looked so annoyed that Tenet felt he had to apologize. "Why?" she asked quickly. "It's not your fault. It's mine. I dropped the ball and had to make up for it." At Tenet's frown, she turned abruptly and began walking. "The point is," she said quickly. "We are running now. And we need to remember the goal. Get there safe, get there unseen."

"That was when we were facing bots. And govers."

His words stopped Scarab cold. "Tenet," she said when she could get her mouth to move through the shock. "What in the hell makes you think we're not?"

"Well I..." He blinked. "I...thought that..." His heart began to race at the idea. "I thought we were safe."

"We're still in no man's land. Just because citizens aren't allowed here doesn't mean the govers will keep out." She poked his chest. "They still want you dead."

"Weevil said that my transmitter would prove my death."

"No. It'll prove your signal stopped transmitting. Where's the body? That's what they're going to demand of Weevil. And when he can't produce..."

Tenet's face paled. "We have to go back."

"What?"

"We have to go back. We can't let them kill Weevil."

Scarab felt like strangling him. "Weevil can handle himself. There's no way in hell we're turning back."

Tenet ran a shaking hand through his hair. While it was true that Weevil was an odd creature and creepy as hell, he did help the pair. He didn't deserve to die. "What if he can't? What if he can't get himself out of this one?"

"Then it'll be karma for all the times he should have gotten his ass handed to him."

Tenet was floored. "How can you say that about your friend?"

She couldn't explain it to him. She knew he simply did not have it in him to believe the harsher side of humanity. Did Weevil deserve death? No, not for this one. But she wasn't kidding. There were dozens of horrible things he should have been called to task for in his past, and if Fate saw this as her opportunity to even the score, so be it. Weevil himself would say the same damn thing. It was simply how life really worked. She was both driven to the peak of frustration and oddly touched at the same time that Tenet still couldn't understand that. "We're not going back, Tenet," she said with as much kindness as she could.

"We could save him."

Time for the truth, even if it made her feel like shit to say it. "First off, if they had plans on killing Weevil, then he's already dead. As soon as your tracking chip stopped at his location, you can bet your ass they scrambled to hand out the bounties and get a team together." Tenet looked as if he was going to be sick. She grabbed his arms. "Listen to me, Tenet. Weevil's the best at talking himself out of situations. There's no one better to wriggle out of the noose of the govers, okay? I am choosing to think he conned his way on out of it."

"We'll never know, will we?" His voice was quiet and heavy.

"No. We won't. What we do know is that he easily could have refused Hark access. He could have turned his back. He could have turned us in. And he did none of those things, of his own choice. He picked the path."

Tenet scoffed. "Some choice he had! If I hadn't..."

She could not let him wallow. "Don't you even start on that bullshit. Everyone involved so far has been a willing participant, everyone knew the stakes." He went to turn away but she squeezed his arms tighter and gave a little shake. "Listen to me, Tenet! Forget Weevil. Forget Hark and Enna. Tell yourself that they handled themselves the same way they've done for twenty years and are already off on the next adventure."

His face twisted in disgust. "Just forget them? Just like that? These people put their lives on the line for me and I..." he swallowed hard. "And I was too selfish and stupid to realize that. And now after I most likely get them killed, I'm just supposed to forget them." He tugged his arms free from her grasp. "I'm sorry, but I don't work like that."

Tenet didn't have to say what he really meant, that he didn't work like "her". It hung there between them and Scarab wondered why it hurt. She clenched her jaw, pushing the pain aside. There wasn't time for emotion. It was time to be the hunter. "Fine," she said firmly. "Brood and mope all you want. I'll be happy to get things back to the way they should be. You can stomp and sulk and I'll get us to the Borderlands safe and unseen. Because that's where we are going. We will not turn around. We will not throw everything they've done for us out the window. We won't dare dishonor their trust and courage like that." By the time she was finished speaking, she was seething. Her words worked up her into the anger they both needed her to feel. "Now shut up and move out," she said coldly, turning and stomping off.

Tenet set his jaw. He wasn't moping, he was just feeling guilty. Hadn't Scarab ever felt guilt clutch at her gut before? Felt sorry for what she'd done? During the past week with her, he saw so many glints of humanity. At Weevil's, there was something that truly called him to her. That night on the mountain, she kept him warm. He felt something then. And the past days at the camp, he knew she was worried about him. He knew she wasn't just "doing what she had to" like she insisted. He knew there was a caring side because as he grew to know her, she couldn't hide it, not always.

Now she spoke of friends as if they were nothing, less than nothing. Was there truth to her words? Some, and he couldn't ignore that. The two of them did need to push forward, if for no other reason than getting her to safety and settling his debt. He did have a conscience. Even if he couldn't offer anything to Weevil, Hark, and Enna beyond the credits he'd already given, he could fully settle the score with Scarab. Get to Borderlands, get there safe, get there unseen. That, he could do. Follow the cold, hard hunter in silence? Gladly.

They rested three times through the day, each a bone of contention for Tenet, whose arguments against the unnecessary breaks were summarily ignored. Scarab simply sat down and waited for him to do the same. Twice she offered food, and he took it. He became determined to follow her lead and do what he was supposed to. He refused to add yet another layer of guilt.

Scarab knew what he was doing. In fact, she could even tell what he was thinking. He had the most expressive face of any bounty she'd ever had, and reading him was easy. He was feeling guilty. This whole mess really was his own fault, and that's what his mind latched on to because that was the kind of person Tenet was. However, she saw the other side: he'd be dead by now if he hadn't run. She was sure of that. His father wanted him dead and this was simply the excuse. She had an interesting discussion with Hark about it while Tenet was getting burned and prodded by Weevil. They both agreed that in all likelihood, Tenet's father probably set up his son's off season adventure. He probably planted the seeds in Tenet's mind, made supplies abundantly easy to get, passed a few credits around for people to gossip about the wonderment of an off season Summer. The more she got to know Tenet, the less she could see this escape as anything of his own thinking. There was a catalyst. He didn't simply wake up one day and think of this plan himself. Something pushed him, someone planted the thought.

Tenet shouldn't feel guilty for doing what he had to survive, he just didn't know that yet. He was learning, she had to concede. He was doing what he had to when he learned what that should be. He ate meat and listened to her commands and shot the wraith...she had no doubt if they encountered another ex-Con member, he wouldn't hesitate to use his gun on that particular brand of human, either. When he learned what needed doing, he did it. In this case, moving on and not looking back was simply a matter of learning what needed doing. If it was her job to get him to see the harsh world for what it was, so be it. She didn't like it. It didn't feel good. And half of her wanted to offer comfort. But, she couldn't. She had offered far too much of that already and it hadn't done them any favors. A long time ago she learned how crippling it was to think of the "what ifs". They couldn't afford to play that game. It would keep them stuck, locked in the past when they desperately needed to just keep moving forward. Enna once told her that there was a time and place for everything, a calm she'd find where she could sit and remember it all. There would be a time for thinking and feeling and healing. They weren't there yet, though. Sometimes she doubted she ever would be.

"One more push. We'll camp on the top of that hill with the trees."

Tenet only nodded and stood. He wordlessly put his pack on and waited for her to lead. Scarab sighed heavily. It was a long day, and she knew it would be a longer night. She used to love the silence. Now she knew it would just haunt her. They'd continue walking in silence. They'd eat dinner in silence. They'd set up camp and silence and spend a long, cold night in the dark, oppressive silence. It didn't matter if that was how it had to be. For the first time, it wasn't at all what she wanted.

Chapter 3

Two weeks. That's how long they'd been in the wild. Tenet woke and rubbed his arms briskly in the even colder night air. They were about a hundred and fifty miles in. Almost there, in Tenet's mind. He relieved himself in the bushes, then came back into the camp. He was the first one awake, and that sent a stab of guilt through him. He'd offered halfheartedly to take a night watch the evening before. In one of her rare conversations, she explained that they were getting close enough to the border to have to really start watching for patrols. She had insisted on taking watch the last three nights.

"You don't know what the hell you're looking for, and I do," she said if Tenet tried to argue.

Tenet couldn't bridge the chasm between them. He had tried a few times, but usually Scarab shut him right back down. The distance between them was as vast as it was before the wraith attack, and he couldn't see how to make it any better again. He wasn't ready to concede that it wasn't callous to ignore the possible horrible things that befell those who he now thought of as friends, and she no longer tried to get him to see that to them, he was a calculated business risk. Stubborn? Yes. Self pitying? Absolutely. Of course he was more than mere business! They'd gone out of their way to help him. Tenet had to mean more to them than just money. He had to. Someone had to see him as something more than a paycheck, a burden, or a responsibility. He couldn't tell her that, though. He couldn't tell her how desperately he needed to feel like he mattered, even a little, to anyone. He couldn't tell her because he was terrified of what she might say.

Tenet had made up his mind to gloss over and forget. He tried light banter. That was met with only the steady sound of Scarab's boots through the undergrowth. He tried asking her questions, sometimes getting one word answers, but usually getting the same response as the joking. She spoke to him when there was a different rule to follow, or when there was something he had to know. The border patrol was new, dangerous, and real. She had no choice but to fill him in on that. When he tried to press further, make her talk more, give more details, she told him to get some sleep and turned to watch across the grassy valley in the dark.

The wind whipped through the tall grasses and he huddled near her behind the large tree they had chosen as their shelter. By the early light of morning, he could see they really had no better options. He could see the dark shadow of mountains in the distance. She had told him they would have to cross the ominous ridge before reaching the border. It didn't seem like such a far distance to him, but he knew the waving grasses of a prairie played tricks on the mind where distances were concerned. He knew they'd move the entire day through the wild, flat sea of green and seem like they got nowhere. Tonight's camp would be the same, perhaps even more in the open if they couldn't find a tree. The next day would be the same. And probably the next. Still, dawn showed him the end of the road.

The end of this road, he corrected. In his mind, life was now sectioned off into blocks. This first one was crossing the dead zone between governments. The next was getting across the border. The next was planning the future depending on what happened with the border govers. The next was....well, he didn't know. But just getting that far with any kind of a plan was an accomplishment for someone used to having every single thing spelled out for him his whole life.

The wind whipped grass in his face. He slouched to lower himself under the bristly tops. To him, it looked like wheat. He pulled a stalk and chewed on the end, grinning. It was wheat! Some wild variety, or some type left from before, when humanity covered every inch of the planet. Were they in someone's field? Was this someone's long abandoned farm? Did this wheat feed a family? For some reason, the thought gave him comfort. He pulled another stalk and chewed the sweet juice from the end.

"Don't eat grass," Scarab muttered.

Tenet jumped, her voice surprising him. He had no idea she was awake. "It's not just grass, it's wheat. Real wheat. You should try it."

She groaned and rose. Looking at the sky, she frowned at him. "You should have woken me earlier."

"I figured you could use the sleep."

She was going to say something to him, but thought better of it. He looked peaceful, and that was a first all week. Without a word she made her way to the bushes, then returned to get their rations out of the bag. Tenet already had the protein bars and water ready. It annoyed her that he was so competent that morning and she ate in the familiar silence.

"We're almost out of food," he said, even though she already knew that.

"We'll push fast through this flat land and chose a camp early. Then we can hunt."

He hadn't hunted yet. He had tried his hand at fishing, since that was something he could do back at their river camp while he was healing. He was terrible at it. The one time he got a bite, he was overly eager and snapped the needle in the fish's mouth, making Scarab have to fashion a new one. She did the fishing, and they were traveling in a good season for him to collect berries, herbs, and once he managed to find wild onions. While Scarab didn't like the berries, she loved the onions. Tenet kept his eyes peeled for them, but hadn't come across more. However, they were in prairie land. There were bound to be edibles as they went. At the very least, he could steep some of the green wheat and they could have a nutritious, if not delicious, wheat soup.

The silence was interrupted by a sight so moving, Tenet could only gape and stare. An animal, tall and graceful, leaped right over the grass in the morning light. The sun glistened off the ruddy brown coat and the spray of dew that flew up when the animal would land glistened. To Tenet, it was as if some magical, mystical creature came to put on a show just for them.

"Don't move," Scarab said quietly.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"It's a deer."

Of course he'd heard of them. He should have known what it was. He didn't have to go to Africa to know an elephant was an elephant. It was the majesty of the morning, the beauty of the beast, the unexpected sighting when he thought they had long since passed into history that caught him off guard.

"It's moving too fast for me," Scarab muttered.

Tenet tore his eyes from the deer and looked at Scarab. Her gun was drawn and she was trying to sight the animal in her scope. He watched her arm move, tracking the beast until she dropped it down and swore. She caught him looking and turned red. "Don't you dare judge me, Tenet. That would feed us the rest of this trip."

Tenet wasn't judging her, he realized much to his surprise. The thought floored him. He hadn't been judging her at all. As he watched her track and move her arm with the animal, his one thought was, "Shoot." That alone startled the hell out of him and he dropped his gaze, suddenly unable to look at her. "I wasn't judging you," he said.

Scarab would have scoffed and argued the point if it weren't for the tone of voice. She frowned and put the gun back in her belt, feeling as if something had once again changed. Without another word, she rolled up her bedding as Tenet was doing. They packed in silence and began their travel.

Prairie travel had its downsides. While the tall grass made it look flat, in reality there were many ruts, divots, and holes that couldn't be seen. They quickly learned the best way to handle it was to stomp, similar to the way they'd traveled through ash. Dragging or sweeping their feet in any way caught all the imperfections of the earth and risked ankle sprains.

The grasses also hid snakes, a fact that became known when a large one reared up and coiled around Scarab's leg. Instinct made her act without thinking, and the snake was headless before she could think about what a close call it had been. She skinned the animal while the adrenaline still pumped through her. Tenet retrieved the head she had thrown to investigate, and they didn't see any fangs. It was probably some kind of rat eater and no real threat. Still, one type of snake meant the probability of many different types of snakes, some of them likely poisonous, and they'd have to be on their guard.

The most frustrating part of prairie travel was the constant sun. There was no shade at all. To get any reprieve, they sat for a few minutes, gaining whatever shade they could from the tall stalks above their heads. It was small comfort, and the tops of their heads were hot unless they laid down, but it was something.

It wasn't all bad, though. Tenet discovered a nest of some kind of bird when they were sitting to take a breather. Though it had no eggs, the odds were very good that if they paid attention, they'd come across more nests and some would have eggs. Or the birds themselves. Tenet had choked down some chicken at Weevil's. Scarab knew that meant he could handle a game bird. If they could keep pace, they could even afford a fire. Build a fire, roast their dinner, then put some miles on through the night before camping. It was risky, but a risk that would pay off. Also, there was plenty of fresh water in this particular tract of land. Little streams branched out through the grasses, no doubt the cause of the fertility of the wide valley.

"The farmer in me wishes we could just make our home right here," Tenet commented in early afternoon as they set back off from a break. "Hell, there's already a crop!"

They couldn't stay, of course. But she didn't want him to feel it was hopeless. "There's land like this across the border. Maybe we'll stick with tomato farming after all."

He groaned. "Good god I hope not!" The look of surprise on her face made him laugh. "Hey, just because I know a lot about something doesn't mean I want it to be my life's calling. I had to fill you in on that stuff. You've got to know it. Let's just hope they let us forget. Personally, I plan on stressing the fact that we failed at tomatoes."

"You don't want to farm, huh? I thought farming was in your blood."

He shrugged. "Farming was my legacy. No matter what else I did, I'd always run an agro plot. It would be my responsibility. I know a lot about it, but I don't know if I want to do it now that I have a choice." They were walking side by side. They were talking. And damn, but it felt good to Tenet to do both.

Scarab should walk ahead and keep pushing as she had, but she didn't want to. She couldn't exactly admit she had missed the friendly side of whatever their relationship was. She wasn't nearly ready to admit something like that, even to herself. But she did stay by his side, and she did let herself get sucked into his conversation. "If you don't farm, what else can you do?"

He had to laugh at her tone. "Apparently, very little."

"I didn't mean..."

"Scarab, I'm kidding." He flashed her a grin, then looked around them. "I don't know. I like healing. You said they have healers."

"Yes."

"Doctors?"

She had to shrug. "I was a kid from a very small community. All I ever saw was a healer, and only then when I..." She stopped talking. The memories were very close to tumbling out, and they never, ever had been before. She snapped her mouth shut and waited to see if he'd pry, silently begging him not to push.

Scarab never said things about her past. Beyond her basic story told only of necessity and with very little feeling in the transport with Hark and Enna, what she said about her past before leaving the Borderlands wouldn't fill a paragraph. But he knew if he pushed, she would clam up. Hell, she'd probably turn the ice back on and he'd have another long day of watching her stiff back in front of him.

When she didn't continue speaking, he chose to shift the conversation back to him. "A healer, huh Doesn't sound all that different from my life, actually." She snorted, but stayed by his side and he felt a minor victory. "It's not."

"Oh please. I've read your file, remember? I find it hard to believe that Tenet Bradwin had anything but the very best medical care money could buy."

"Me personally? Of course," he agreed. "But my family ran a very large corn share, and aided in overseeing a wheat crop. I had a doctor. I had regular visits in fancy hospitals with whirly equipment that would make Weevil drool. Guilty as charged."

"See? Told you."

"But," he said, holding his finger up. "Our workers didn't." He tilted his head before continuing, thinking of the best way to explain. "Do you know how a large agro share works?"

"Don't change the subject, poor little rich boy."

He bit his lip to keep from smiling at the intended barb. "I'm not. It all ties in."

"This isn't going to turn into another three day tomato lecture, is it? Because if it is..."

He threw his head back and really laughed for the first time in days. "No. I swear. I won't tell you the first detail on how to grow anything. This is more of a business discussion."

She let out a deep sigh. "Fine. But you've been warned."

"Duly noted. Now, how and agro share works is this..."

Tenet spent the next hour explaining the details of a business Scarab never cared to look into before. In her mind, the government assigned people crops and they grew them. That was her first misconception. They assigned people to a league first. From there, the league elected the leaders of the different share properties. Those leaders were then responsible for everyone else assigned to that property, from the second in command all the way down to the person responsible for bringing water to the fields at appointed times for breaks. And yes, there was someone specifically for that task.

As leaders, Tenet's family was not allowed to pass the buck. If anything went wrong, they needed to answer to the particular league. "Say we have locusts, and we were not careful enough to gather the information on the seasonal locust path and didn't take the proper precautions. If the locusts cleaned out the crop, we personally would owe the league their profit for the lost crops. If they deemed it gross negligence, then the league would have a vote to elect a new leader for that share and we'd be out on our asses. Well, not us personally because my father being who he is..." He didn't need to finish that thought. As Exalted Leader, his father was above the law.

But, most weren't, and it wasn't something Scarab ever considered. She figured the heads of the different shares sat on their fat asses and drove their people, people who amounted to little more than slaves when you got right down to it, to the breaking point just to make a buck. She said as much, only in a nicer way, and Tenet balked before explaining.

"First, they aren't slaves. We don't allow slavery and you know that."

"I'm sorry, but when someone else tells you what you can and cannot do and you've got no choice in the matter, that's slavery."

He could see her point of view. "Then we're all slaves, because I didn't have any more say in it than anyone else. And I guarantee, the people in the big houses overseeing carry even more burden than those in the fields. If you are in the field and you do your job, then you get to go home at the end of the day and enjoy your life. You get food provided to you, schooling for your children. You're allowed to marry whoever you want in your caste. Hell, you can even try for a higher caste if you think you're pretty enough." That made Scarab smile. "My point is, that while they're out living a life, those in the big fancy houses spend many nights working and worrying and hoping they're good enough to give that life to everyone under them. There are many different kinds of work, Scarab. Just because my father wasn't getting dirt on his hands didn't mean he wasn't exhausted at the end of the day. He's a bastard, sure, but a hard working one." Scarab had to admit that she saw his point.

"Now that you have some background on the basic ways it works, let's get back to what we started talking about. Healing. Doctors. The lot. Yes, we have hospitals and doctors. They're extremely expensive." He held a hand up when she opened her mouth. "I'm not saying the leaders of the shares intentionally give their workers sub-par treatment. I'm saying, most can't even afford the fancy doctors for themselves. Govers get the doctors. Regular people, including most share leaders, get healers for the majority of their health care. And most healers can handle the bulk of problems. Only the most serious conditions get the average person into a hospital, and only if it's deemed a redeemable case."

"What does that mean?"

"It means projected survival rate of longer than five years."

Scarab felt morally outraged without even knowing if she should. The logical side of her brain said it made sense to conserve the resources for those who would not only get the most benefits from them, but turn around and benefit the community as well. If someone's life was a trouble or a burden on the others, then patching them up temporarily was just a waste. It made complete sense. She herself had never even seen a hospital and she did just fine. Still, when Tenet's asshole of a father got all the medical care he could handle while the kind men and good women in the fields had to make do, it just didn't set right inside and she couldn't help the rage of injustice.

Tenet saw the play of emotions on her face and knew what she was thinking. "We tried our best to provide the very top healers, Scarab. Don't think for one second I would stand by and let my family turn their backs on someone who needed healing."

"But others do," she said.

"Yes," he admitted. There were many share leaders who skimped on that responsibility. There were many league heads that could be paid to look the other way. He was trying to put the best spin on it as possible for Scarab, but the cold truth was that his plantation had been a standout for their firm stance on equal health care regardless of caste. "My mother wouldn't let that happen on our land."

"If your mother wasn't there, would your father?"

He gave a shrug, but they both knew the truth. "When my mother married my father, he turned that portion of control over to her since she was from a village that had a reputation for excellence in training healers. And she's good. Really good. She sees to many cases herself."

"So that's why you've got a knack."

Tenet snorted. "Actually, according to her I make a horrible healer and would have had many more pleasant afternoons if I'd simply given up trying." His voice was lighthearted enough, and maybe someone else would have taken it as the joke he attempted to make it. Scarab knew better.

"You patched me up just fine," she pointed out quietly.

"Yes. Well." He cleared his throat, emotion clogging his voice. "If my mother had handled the case, I doubt you'd have a scar at all. What I lack in talent, though, I make up for in desire. I want to heal people. I like to heal people. At the Academy, all my idiot classmates who fooled around with weapons behind the teachers' backs would come to me to fix them up. I got myself a reputation for making a wound heal before the headmaster could smell the blood. That's something, I suppose."

"That's a lot," she said, defensive on his behalf. "I'm sure your skills will be welcomed in the Borderlands."

He appreciated her defense of him more than he could say. "We'll see when we get there, see if there's a need."

"Need or not, if you want to be a healer, that's what you'll be." She was firm on that.

"I've been giving it a lot of thought. It doesn't matter what we want to be, we've got to be what _they_ want. You said they want couples, so we're a couple. If we can figure out what they need beyond that, they'll be more willing to accept us."

Scarab hadn't really thought of that. They walked for a few minutes while she mulled it over, her trepidation growing with every step. He was right. They had to be an attractive addition to the fray, and that meant skills. He could farm, he could heal. He could also be a leader, which was evident just from speaking with him. He was adept with weaponry having been trained in the military arts at the nation's top academy, but just as capable at domestic jobs. He was an attractive addition to any community, no matter what he chose to be.

And she? What was she?

Scarab couldn't cook for a damn. She couldn't farm. She could hunt, but that was only a personal need. Communities relied on ranchers for their meat. She had no idea how to raise any animals, only how to kill and clean them. She had only the basics of education, and while she always enjoyed learning more, she never saw to take it beyond personal interest. Her whole life was spent intentionally not being part of anything, not being tied to anyone or anything, not contributing. She made it her goal to be utterly alone in every sense. What was she? A cast out. A scrap. Useless.

For the first time, Scarab hated her new life. She hated the choice that lead her here. She had never before felt valueless. Angry? Yes. Alone? Sure. Unwanted? Of course. But never without merit. Never insecure. Never weak. Never less than anyone else. She hated the fact that she wanted to crawl in a hole and hide.

Tenet was oblivious to her inner turmoil. "So if they need a healer, then I'd be more than happy to fill that role. What about you?"

"What?" she asked, trying to swallow the panicked feeling clawing inside her.

"What do you want to be?"

What could she possibly say to that?

When she didn't answer, Tenet glanced over and saw her pale face. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yes," she snapped, turning away and pushing forward.

He sighed heavily. "Here we go again," he muttered.

Scarab spun back around. She needed to yell. A fight would make her feel better, feel more secure. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" she all but bellowed.

Tenet put his hands on his hips. "It means I'm getting really damn sick of that switch that keeps flipping, that's what it means!"

"Oh yeah? And what switch is that?"

"The bitch switch." It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it as the words were too far in the making to be stopped. His eyes went wide at her murderous expression. "I didn't mean to say that out loud," he said quickly.

Scarab's mouth flapped open and shut. She could not believe he actually said the words. She picked the pace up, too incensed to pay attention to the careful stomping. When she stumbled she felt his hand on her elbow and tried to shake it. "Get your hands off me or so help me god I'll..."

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "You'll kick my ass or cut off my balls or whatever. I know the routine. But if you don't slow down we'll be another three days on our asses, this time with you in the patient chair. And trust me, I do not want to have you as a patient again."

"I wasn't a bad patient," she said in a voice dangerously close to a pout. She mentally kicked herself. She tugged her arm again, but he wouldn't let go.

"Stop running. I'm sorry I called you a bitch. But be honest now, what would you call you? Hm?" He didn't give her time to answer. "I am sick of walking on eggshells. It's like you lay these personal land mines and don't tell me what's going to set them off. We were talking about me being a healer one second, and bam! Blew up in my face the next and you stormed off in a huff."

It was true. She couldn't deny it, and didn't even try. "It had nothing to do with you," she admitted. She tugged again and he let her elbow go.

"If it didn't have anything to do with me, what was it about?"

"It's none of your business." She knew she sounded childish but couldn't stop herself.

"Let me see if I've got this straight. We can be having a downright pleasant discussion, I can say something completely innocuous, and you are going to completely flip out and treat me like shit. But it has nothing to do with me. And it's not my business." Tenet ran a hand through his hair and let out a bitter laugh. "I just figured it out! You're insane. You are clinically insane."

She wasn't insane, she was alone. She wanted to shake him and scream at him and cry. She had no idea how to tell him what she was feeling. Why didn't he get that? Why didn't he understand that she couldn't afford that level of vulnerability? She never shared. She couldn't. And even though she annoyingly wanted to with him, she didn't have the first idea how to start. He didn't even give her a chance to respond. He shifted his pack on his back and pushed past her.

"I'll take the lead. You can stare at my angry ass for once!"

They traveled in silence until they hit a wide, slow river near evening. There were bushes, but not trees. A look around them said that was the best shelter they would get. Tenet walked away from the camp to look for wild food, while Scarab crawled under the bushes and pulled out old dead growth to make a safer place to sleep. When she was done, she was pleasantly surprised at how much room there was. She could sit up comfortably, with the thorny leaves offering a cocoon of protection. She cleared enough to make room for their bedrolls, then stacked the dead growth in case Tenet found anything to cook on a fire.

Scarab carefully picked her way down the soft river bank. She waded into the cool water, glad that the sun was so low on the horizon. The river bottom was muddy here, but the water was still clear. The mud felt good between her toes, and the cool water swirling around her legs called to her. She climbed back up and checked to see where Tenet was. He was a good distance off, his head bent towards the ground where he scavenged. She thought for a quick second, then made up her mind to take a hasty bath. After the long, horrible day, it would feel like heaven.

She quickly stripped and jumped in, coming up halfway across the creek. It wasn't very deep, but it was soothingly cool and she floated for a little before she stood to lean back and really give her sweaty, dirty hair a good rinse. She was massaging her scalp, freeing up the mud that was no doubt caked there when something pinched her toe hard. She gave a startled yell and leaped for the edge of the river. She scrambled up the mud bank until she was good and clear of the water, then looked down at her toe. Some kind of creature had a claw clamped there and she reached down and yanked it off. She was about to toss the little bugger when a memory hit. Crayfish! It was a crayfish. Her father used to pull them by the dozens out of the river near her home in the summer and they'd eat them.

"You're gonna pay for that with your life, little mud bug," she said smugly.

She turned to head back to camp and get a pot. Where there was one crayfish, there were more. They'd eat a good dinner that night! She took two steps before she remembered her clothes. As she went to turn around to get them, Tenet's stunned expression caught her attention.

"We're eating crayfish tonight," she said with a grin. Her grin slowly faded when Tenet just stared, his eyes wide and his mouth open. A breeze kicked up and she shivered and remembered her clothes. She had no clothes! And Tenet just stood there, staring. She felt her whole body go red with embarrassment, and he just stood there, gaping. "What are you doing here!" she demanded.

"I heard you yell and thought you were in trouble," he said quickly.

"I was just taking a bath. Can't I bathe in peace without you gawking?" She turned and gathered up her clothes, trying to get them on over her wet skin.

"I wasn't gawking! I just came to help."

"I don't need help!"

"Then why did you scream?"

"Because it really fricken hurts when a crayfish clamps on your toe!"

"What in the hell is a crayfish?"

"This!" She waved the little critter back and forth.

"Why are we yelling?" he yelled at her.

"I don't know!" she yelled right back.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Tenet burst out laughing. While her humiliation wanted her to hate him forever, she couldn't ignore the absolute absurdity of the situation and started laughing with him. "It's not funny," she insisted, trying to keep her lips in a firm line.

"The look...on your face...was priceless," he said between laughs. He had a hand full of little eggs, and rummaged in his pack with one hand for a cup. He put the eggs in safety, then got the pot out. "Put that thing in here before it pinches you again."

She dropped it in the pan with a plunk, then pulled her other arm through the sleeve of her shirt. Her hair was dripping wet and plastered to her head, so she gave her head a shake then slicked back the hair with her fingers. She wiped her face on her sleeve and gave another chuckle. "Well. That bath turned interesting."

Tenet gave her a lazy smile that hammered home the intimacy of the whole deal, making her heart speed up. He quickly looked at the crayfish in the pan, but she didn't miss the heated look in his eyes. "We're actually going to eat this thing?"

"Yeah. Him and some of his buddies," she said, glad to change the subject. "We just have to get them out."

He put a hand up. "I'm not sacrificing my toes just so you can eat bugs. I'm happy with eggs."

"These bugs taste amazing. And you won't have to sacrifice your toes, you big baby." She grabbed up some of the dead growth from the bushes. It had been years and years since she helped her father make crayfish traps, but the old skill came back to her fairly quickly. She needed to make a mesh scoop to dredge the bottom of the river. "We have any more thread?" she asked, curving the branches to make the basic shape.

He dug in the medical kit and came up with the thread. "Not a lot."

"I don't need a lot. Just a couple pieces to tie the ends together." He handed it over and watched as she made a sort of net with the dead branches. It was clear she knew what she was doing, even though she stopped for thought once in awhile before making up her mind and plowing forward. She made the first net, then took about half the amount of time to make another.

"You're good at that," Tenet said. Though he didn't really mean it as a test, as soon as the words were out, he knew it sort of was. Either she started opening up and letting him in, or they were bound to have a lifetime on the same uneven emotional ground. He spent a miserable day being pissed at her. He didn't want to be pissed, he wanted to know her.

"Thanks," Scarab said. She stood and handed him one of the nets. He was looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. She almost left it there, fear suddenly creeping up. Just open your mouth and say something, her little voice inside instructed. "I...I used to help get crayfish from the river by my parents' house." It wasn't as difficult as she though, this sharing concept. She felt her face flush, for some reason embarrassed, but had to admit it wasn't really that hard after all. "Follow my lead and we'll have a good dinner."

Her rushed words let him know not to push further. Frankly, he was surprised she said that much. He followed her down the bank. She told him to roll his pants to wade in, but he wasn't kidding about refusing to sacrifice his toes. She told him to stay on the bank if he was such a big baby, but to copy what she was doing.

Scarab dipped her net in, leaning over to scrape the bottom. "You want to get through the very top layer of mud. They'll be right under. Look!" she said, pointing. "I can see one!"

Tenet couldn't see the one she was pointing at, but turned to stare at the bottom near him. After a few seconds, he saw something moving. He couldn't tell what it was and wasn't about to go randomly snatching a potential enemy. "What if it's not a crayfish?"

She waded to the edge and tossed a large crayfish into the pot with the other. The two instantly began snapping at each other. "Then you'll have yourself a nice surprise, won't you?" She gave him a grin, then turned back to wade out again, unaware at how her smile had affected him.

He couldn't stop the picture of her standing there naked and wet like some river goddess flashing through his mind.

"I'm two up on you already," she said.

He gave his head a little shake and stared back down into the water. Right. Dinner. He eased his net into the water and held his breath as he scooped up the mystery critter. It was a crayfish, alright. "Got one!"

Tenet was waving it over his head, a grin a mile wide on his face. "Stop waving it around before you drop it! Get it in the pot with the others." She was smiling, though. His excitement was infectious.

"Did you see those eggs I got?"

"Yeah. We'll eat like kings for sure tonight."

"We'll need a fire. Can we risk it?"

Scarab nodded. "I can see for miles in all directions and haven't noticed anything dangerous. I'll dig it into the bank so we can put it out quickly if we have to." She glanced at the sky. "We'll have to hurry. Looks like bad weather tonight."

Tenet supposed he couldn't complain. Sheer luck had seen them safe from much rain, save one damp afternoon. He scooped back in the water, trying to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. It was impossible when Scarab would move in the water, making the swirling noise around her bare calf. He was sorry he'd missed seeing her whole bath. He'd just have to keep a closer watch next time so he wouldn't miss it. The thought made his heart quicken and he bit his lip to keep from showing just how much he liked that idea.

Scarab caught three more crayfish, but he didn't catch any. "Six will be enough with the eggs," she said. "I'll get the fire built, you do the cooking."

"Actually, a bath doesn't sound like a half bad idea."

"Our agreement was that you cook," she said, trying not to think of Tenet naked, swimming right next to camp.

"I'll take a quick bath while you build the fire." At her rolled eyes, he laughed. "Hey, you started it. Blame yourself for planting the idea of a bath in my head." Her face turned red and he knew he won. Whistling to himself, he carried the pot up the banking and set it near their packs. He got out clean clothes and a razor. "I'll be just up around the bend," he called.

"Hurry it up. These things won't cook themselves," came her snapped reply.

Tenet didn't dawdle. While he felt pretty confident the area they camped near was now free of crayfish, he knew crayfish weren't the only potential enemies on the banks of a river. He stripped, jumped in, and scrubbed with determined vigor, then sat on the edge to shave, letting the evening breeze dry him. He looked at his reflection in the water. His hair was far too long, but at least it was clean now. He nicked himself a little shaving, but overall not bad. He looked more like himself than he had in seven weeks.

And yet, in some ways, he didn't look the same at all. Tenet felt so different and he was almost surprised to see that shine back in his reflection. He wondered if other people could see it, or if it was only him. He wondered if she could see the changes in him. He hoped so. He dressed quickly and headed back to camp to cook their dinner.

Scarab did most of the cooking. It turned out that Tenet had no idea what to do with the crayfish, a fact they would have thought of earlier if they weren't both so distracted by the long tumultuous day. She boiled the crayfish in the water, tossing the eggs in with it. Tenet made himself useful by gathering some wild herbs he saw near the river and tossing them in the pot. After about fifteen minutes, she declared dinner ready and drained off the water.

"Now, this part is what you eat," she said, pulling the tail apart from the rest of the body. "Give this a little suck, then toss it," she said, launching the head over her shoulder towards the river.

"Do I have to toss it with such flair?" he asked with that lazy smile she was beginning to look forward to. It was even more devastating with him clean shaved.

"Only if you want to do it right," she insisted.

He gave it a try. The head-sucking part of eating the crayfish wasn't the greatest experience, and the meat was chewy. But he had to admit it had a nice taste. Very sweet, something he wasn't expecting. "Maybe we should be crayfish farmers," he said. "I think I could handle killing and eating these again."

Scarab gave an easy laugh and rolled one of the small eggs between her hands to crack the soft shell. "Did you see what birds these came from?"

"Does it matter?"

"No. You can eat any eggs as long as they're not fertilized."

His eyes went wide. "How do you know if they are?"

"Because a bird will be sitting right on top of them."

"Oh."

She showed him the little peeled egg, then bit into it so he could see the yolk. "See? No baby birdies. Mm. These are good. Fork over another one."

They ate their feast with more friendly banter until a crack of thunder ended the meal early. "Into the bushes," she said, grabbing the pot.

Tenet dove for the bushes and Scarab followed just as they heard the roar of the downpour start. "Shit the packs!" He pushed back out into the rain and dragged the already damp packs into the relative safety of their little bush lair. "That came up fast."

"You're soaked again," she said.

He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Guess neither of us really needed a bath. If we waited a couple hours, we would have gotten a fresh shower!" The laughter died in his throat as the image of her standing on the river bank once again filled his mind.

Even though it was almost full dark in their makeshift home, Scarab didn't miss the shift in Tenet's expression. "Don't do that," she whispered in panic before she could stop herself.

He was thoroughly confused. "Do what? I'm only sitting here."

"No. Don't look at me like that."

Tenet glanced away quickly, his face on fire. She caught him out. How the hell did she do that? How was it that she could always tell what he was thinking, while he couldn't do the same with her? The lighthearted mood of their hard-earned dinner evaporated just like that, leaving them once again fidgeting in uncomfortable silence.

Scarab picked another egg out of the pot, but didn't even get it peeled before she realized she was no longer hungry. "You want any more?" she asked quietly.

"Yes I do." He took the pot out of her hands and shoved it aside. He scooted closer so his knees almost touched hers, and he grabbed both of her hands in his. "I want an explanation. I want you to tell me why we can't go one frickin' day anymore without the...you-know-what switch being flipped. I want you to tell me what happened. One minute were we joking and laughing and diving for cover from the storm the best of friends, and the next you ice me out."

Tenet wanted an answer and she couldn't give one. He was too close and Scarab went to pull away.

"No!" he yelled, startling them both. He dropped her hands, suddenly afraid of losing control. He took a shaky breath. "No," he said more calmly. "We're going to sit here and talk this out. I can't go through my days wondering what it is I'm saying and doing that gets you so pissed off."

"I'm not pissed," she blurted.

Tenet scoffed. "Then you have a weird way of showing it, wife."

"Don't call me that."

"Why? You're my wife."

"No."

"Yes!" He wanted to jump up and stomp his foot, but the best he could do in the cramped little hovel was pound his fist on the ground. "You're my wife, I'm your husband. That's flat out fact."

The familiar bubble of frustration at her own inability to say what she meant and felt pushed inside her chest like a physical force building to explosion. Tears pricked her eyes and made her feel even more miserable. She hated tears. She spent a lot of years learning how to keep them at bay, and yet, here they were.

He could see the emotions play across her face. Usually, she was so composed, even in anger. Usually, he had to study her very hard to maybe, _maybe_ catch a quick flicker in her eyes. In spite of the discomfort of the situation, he couldn't help but feel excited at the real emotion she was showing.

"Stop looking at me like that!" she yelled, her voice cracking with panic.

"Like what?"

Scarab's heart was pounding and her hands began to shake, but his soft, pleading voice cracked her carefully built wall. "Like you...like you want to do...things..." Scarab hated that she sounded so weak, so fragile. She wanted to get up and run and go shoot something or hunt some bastard and take it out on him, anything to get her out of the close darkness.

It took Tenet a few seconds for her words to sink in. When they did, he slumped back, stunned. "That's what this is all about?" The only sound was the pounding rain in the thick leaves above them. A crack of thunder ripped through the air, but neither seemed to notice. Long minutes ticked by while each of them fought secret inner battles. For Tenet, Scarab's words about knowing the signs of a monster after that ex-Con member attacked finally clicked. He couldn't believe he didn't get it before. He felt a rage and pain build in him that he'd never felt before and took several minutes to calm. He didn't want her to think he was in any way angry _at_ her. He was angry _for_ her. He doubted she'd know the difference.

Scarab sat with her fists clenched, trying to focus on the feeling of the nails digging into her palm, and searched for a way to set things back to right. She shouldn't have blurted that out. She should have taken control of the situation before then, kept herself in check. She had to think of him as her bounty and put space between them. For the first time in her life, though, she had absolutely no idea how to do that. She couldn't take back what was said. She broke her rule of keeping everything inside and now she didn't know how to undo the damage. So she sat and waited to see what he'd say. Maybe that would give her a clue.

When he could speak, Tenet's voice was soft, but firm. "Yes," he admitted. "I do want to do things." He could almost feel her shock, an electricity that filled the small space. "But I want to do them _with_ you, not _to_ you. Do you understand the difference?" It was so dark by then that Scarab could only see his shadowy outline from across the space. She tried to judge what he was saying by his expression, but it was simply too dark to do so. Before she could come up with any kind of response, he moved closer, directly in front and she could see his intense gaze. "Do you think I would hurt you?"

"I..." she began.

"Do you?" His voice was almost desperate.

"I don't even know you."

He laughed. "You're kidding me, right? What shoe size do I wear?"

"Thirteen," she answered automatically, then frowned. "That doesn't mean anything."

"Yes, it really does. I doubt my mother even knows my shoe size."

The absurd had somehow passed into outright insanity and Scarab shook her head. "And I'm the crazy one. What in the hell does shoe size have to do with anything?"

"You know me, Scarab. You know me better than anyone in my entire life ever has."

His honest words made her feel sad. All that money, all that status, a fancy house and servants, in spite of what he called them, waiting on him hand and foot, and every comfort at his control. And he was just like her underneath it all.

"Do you think I would ever hurt you?" He repeated in earnest. "That I ever could?"

"No." Her answer was sure.

He sighed with relief and Scarab could feel his smile. "Then there's hope for us yet."

His tone annoyed her and she scoffed. Nothing was settled. In fact, she felt even more mixed up than before. Tenet just laughed at her scoff, irritating her further. She turned in a huff, but he held her arm.

"I'm amending the marriage contract."

"No."

He laughed again. "You don't even know what I'm going to propose."

She sighed. "Fine."

"I want to know you, Scarab. I want to know you as well as you know me."

The thought was both appealing and terrifying. "You know me well enough."

"No, I don't. We're married." He held her firmly when she went to turn away again. Not hurting, not even putting that much pressure. Just enough to let her know he wanted to be heard. "And while I want to do things _with_ you," he stressed again, "that's secondary. First, I just want you to let me get to know you. I want to know what it is I do that pisses you off. I want to know if there's anything I do that makes you happy."

"There is," she blurted out.

Tenet felt buoyant inside. Her admission was far more than he could have hoped for. He couldn't push, though, and didn't. "I want to know what you like to eat, what you want to be, who you are. I want to know your past..."

"No," she said firmly. There were some things she would not budge on.

"And I want to know what you see for our future," he continued smoothly, as if she hadn't said anything at all. "I just want to know you. So my amendment is twofold. First, I think I deserve to know when I'm pissing you off and why."

She gave a snort, but had to admit to herself he had a point. "What's the second part?"

"That if you can't talk about it, you'll at least tell me that much."

His consideration almost stunned her. Tenet knew far more about her than she realized. He let her arm go, then held his hand out waiting for her to shake. Scarab hesitated, knowing full well she'd regret the amendment. It was too close, too personal. And so annoyingly reasonable. She grudgingly put her hand in his. "Fine," she muttered.

"Why did you get so angry with me earlier when I asked you what you wanted to do when we reach the Borderlands?"

Boy, he didn't waste any time taking advantage of the latest addition to the contract, did he? "I can't talk about it," she said, testing him.

He pressed his lips together and frowned. "Damnit. I shouldn't have added that second part." His voice held humor, though.

"You suck at writing contracts," she said, seizing his humor and trying to get them back on comfortable ground.

"That I do. Fine, we'll skip that question for now. But you can bet I'm going to ask it again. One of these days, you'll answer."

Oh would she, now? Scarab crossed her arms over her chest and assessed this new overly confident man sitting in front of her. Cocky, that's how he looked. She would out-stubborn him. The wind whipped up, shaking their little shelter and causing a smattering of rain drops to plop on them. Tenet scooted over to sit with Scarab where the cover was thicker. She didn't pull away, and he knew something had been settled.

"I hope our roof holds through the night."

"It was the best I could do," Scarab said defensively.

"Don't take offense," he said, shaking the water off his blanket and wrapping it over their shoulders. He felt her wariness, but she still didn't pull away. When all he did was put his arm around her and share warmth, she slowly relaxed. "I think it's a fine house, wife."

Her face burned, but it was too dark for him to see. It was a test she was determined to pass, and she forced her tense body to relax. He would never lift a hand to her in anger, and she'd known that from the start. Besides, she could easily take him out if he ever went off the deep end and got it in his mind to try. That was never the issue. The issue was his breaking down of her carefully constructed wall of steel, and her inability to see any way to stop it. Distance didn't work. It couldn't work, not when it had made her day just as miserable as his. It was time to try things his way. At least it was warm and dry under the blanket with him. And so very comfortable.

They sat in a friendly silence for a long time, listening to the rain and wind pound the world outside their little bubble. Scarab yawned and almost started to doze when Tenet's laugh broke through their reverie.

"What's so funny?"

She felt Tenet shake his head. "I was just thinking about what Mother would say to all of this," he said.

Scarab frowned into the dark. "And that's funny?"

He sighed and gave her a little squeeze. "Yes, in a sad, ironic sort of way. You are not exactly the wife they would have chosen for me."

She didn't know why she should feel offended, since it was true. But the words still stung, and she snapped at him. "They didn't choose a wife for you at all." She instantly regretted lashing out. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be." His voice no longer held any humor, just a sad acceptance. "It's not exactly true, but it's close enough. The choice isn't really up to the families of the males, but since they didn't champion me early enough, no one stepped forward to request a match. Semantics, I guess. I wasn't picked up by anyone yet, and they didn't really seem to care one way or another." He cleared his throat, the memories of the dozens of intention announcement parties he'd been to on behalf of all his friends and classmates swamping his mind. He rarely let himself wonder why. Or, more accurately, why not.

"I'm sorry," she said again, wondering why it was so hard to figure out what to say or do. She felt his shrug.

"Saved me from the same fate as my father, I suppose. There is that." His parents' marriage, like so many others in his caste, was at best a joke and at worst a travesty. "I couldn't imagine loving someone so much one minute and then hating her the next, and knowing that it was forever."

"They could divorce."

He scoffed. "And break the unspoken laws of the rich and famous?" The raw pain of his mocking tone was as close to bitterness as Scarab ever heard from Tenet, and she found herself putting her arm across his chest and squeezing him back. "No. They'll never get divorced. That just doesn't happen for people as high up the food chain as my parents. They will continue to pretend to be happy and perfect in the public, and in private..." His words cut off suddenly. "It's just a different story." Of pain, screaming, accusations, cheating...with two children caught in the hateful tug of war.

Scarab once again felt inadequate. She should know what to say, or do. She should know more about people to be able to give him what he needed, to have a clue what that might be. And yet, she didn't. She just sat holding him awkwardly, wishing she had paid better attention to Hark and Enna. "It's better than..." she began, then clammed up. She swallowed hard and made herself continue. "It's better than loving someone so blindly you end up hurting everyone else."

Tenet knew she was talking about her own parents. The hand that had been idly rubbing her upper arm stopped and he held his breath, wondering if she would continue. She didn't, but he was grateful for any confidence in him at all. "I guess we both escaped, hm?" He began rubbing her arm lightly again.

"If I was betrothed," he said at length, "Then it would be years before I actually wed. Most boys are championed by their families as soon as they're a year old."

"You're sold as babies?"

It wasn't too far from the truth. "Well, not sold, really," he protested, still feeling the need to defend a life that was getting harder and harder to see in a friendly light. "Championed. It's not really up to the males, since there is a disproportionate number of boys to girls. The girls, they hold all the power. The sons have to be bragged about, loudly and early on if they stand a chance at gaining an offer of marriage from the girls' family."

"But to be engaged as babies..." Scarab shook her head. "It's insane."

She felt Tenet's chuckle rumble through his chest under her cheek. "They don't get engaged as babies. That's only the beginning of the process. The seeds get planted, so to speak."

"Ugh. More tomato analogies."

He laughed outright and squeezed her closer. She was surprised to find herself grinning along with him. "Last one. I promise. What I mean is that..."

"I know what you meant. I was just teasing."

Tenet really wished he could rush things with her. He wished she was ready for more. In that moment, when she admitted to teasing him, joining him in lighthearted silliness, he wanted her. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his voice from betraying the feelings he knew she wasn't even close to ready to address. "The parents dress the boys up in finery and make sure they are seen everywhere looking and acting perfect. It's to get the girls' parents to take notice, and then they spend a good ten to fifteen years making sure they keep those parents noticing."

"How?"

"Education. Military accomplishments. Your name must be in the paper for getting awards or accommodations or top marks, or so help me God, young man, there will be hell to pay!" During the speech he changed his voice to match that of a stern father.

"Sounds..."

"Oppressive," he butted in quickly. "Demanding. And, of course, since the pressure is so high, there never really is any way to please any parties involved until the girls' family chooses and steps forward to request the first dowry installment. After that, for that one boy chosen, life is allowed to calm down somewhat. But he still must appear in public to impress his intended. Nothing's final until the last payment right before the ceremony. I've had many friends cut out of a deal at the last minute." He sighed. "Poor Jiti Ton." He shook his head. "Anyway, start to finish, first dowry payment to last, is about a fifteen year courtship. Now, there have been ones that started later and lasted a shorter period of time. But those, those are simply scandalous, don't you know," he said, this time in his best Mother impression. "Truly, how will they ever find a proper place in society when they begin a life together steeped in shame and supposition?"

Scarab laughed at his falsetto. "That's awful."

"It is," Tenet agreed. "I mean, I guess it is. My friends never complained, though. At least they had been chosen."

She couldn't believe no one chose him. "I'm sure you had some interested in you."

He shrugged. "To be honest, I didn't really help myself out. Yes, I jumped through the hoops. But I much preferred to talk to the staff at parties, or wander in gardens by myself than perform a dance or recite a ballad. There's a certain level of self-championship that's necessary, and I just didn't feel like playing."

It was an interesting look into Tenet that Scarab didn't expect. "You never saw anyone you wanted to impress?"

"At those parties? No."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You are such a liar."

He had to laugh at that. "Honest. They just...none of them were worth my time." He groaned at himself. "God, that sounded conceited, didn't it?"

"No. Not at all," she said dryly.

He grinned into the dark. "I'm just being honest. Not one of them I was introduced to interested me on any level. At teas, the dumb ones would talk about dresses and parties, the smart ones would rant and rave about the difficulties of being in charge of a plantation. You'd think one or the other would pique my curiosity, but no. I didn't want to talk about stupid clothes and parties, and I lived every day with a deeper knowledge of the hardships of running a plantation."

"So what did you want?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Something different."

Scarab's eyes went wide at a thought. "Were you hoping for a male connection?" She didn't realize she was holding her breath until he finally answered.

"No." It took him awhile to answer simply because he couldn't believe even after his admission that he wanted her, she'd still be able to think something like that. "No, I didn't want a male connection," he repeated again firmly. "My interests definitely run toward the female sector. Have no fear, wife. I've got no plans on cheating on you with the farm boys."

Scarab made an outraged little squawk. "I didn't...I wasn't...I just asked. Look at the facts and..."

"Calm down, wife. I was just trying to interject a little humor into what is a very touchy subject for me."

"Oh."

"You aren't the only one that has things about your past you'd rather not remember." The night of idle curiosity, so common in a society where men outnumbered women three to one, flashed through his head. It was the most humiliating, gut wrenching night of his life. What was curiosity for him turned out to be the culmination of a dream for Maven, a boy he only thought of as a friend. Maven's pleading, the pain in the boy's voice when he realized it just wouldn't work out, the awkward silence only broken by bitter sobbing... It was made all the worse when he had to admit to himself that he intentionally hurt his friend. He knew Maven's desires, even if he underestimated how much Maven felt for him personally. He knew it wasn't mere curiosity for the other boy. He took something Maven offered in sincerity, and he took it as a joke. A trial. A way to pass a bored night. He never felt so much like his father's son as he did that night, and that fact ate at him for years.

He cleared his throat. "I guess I'm just a snobby, picky bastard." He tried to make his voice happy and upbeat.

Scarab wasn't buying it, and wondered if she should push. It intrigued her that she managed to find the one subject the normally unflappable Tenet didn't instantly rebound from. Through all the shit they'd already gone through, to his easy acceptance of what was yet to come, he took everything in and simply processed it and moved on. His father wanted him dead? No biggie. He was an ass anyway. His mother didn't stop it? Well, mothers can be like that. Best just to move on. Eat meat? Actually kill and animal when his entire life taught him animals were sacred? If that's what he must...
Nothing bothered Tenet. Nothing ate at him. Far from the instant perception of a spoiled brat who was simply out to embarrasses a powerful family for the sake of rebellion, he was actually the most calm, level headed, stable person she ever met. He was naive on certain levels, true. And it would probably always be impossible for him to see the bad side of humanity. But he took life. He didn't fight it. He didn't rail against it. He didn't stomp his foot and complain about the unfairness. He took it. He learned from his mistakes, but, most importantly, he simply accepted the mistakes of others. He swallowed all the crap that was heaped on him and got ready for more.

It pleased Scarab to know that perhaps Tenet wasn't as perfect as she thought. She wanted to know what it was that made him squirm uncomfortably with this discussion. What happened? What did he do? Just what was it that made Tenet beat himself up so badly? She was desperate to know, and almost asked, almost pushed.

"We should get some sleep while we can," he said quietly, and her moment to ask had passed. She followed his lead and twisted and stretched out on her blanket. He covered them, then shocked her by pulling her close to him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Holding you. Shh. Sleep."

Her heart was racing. "You...you don't have to hold me."

"No, but I want to." His arm tightened slightly around her. "You didn't mind when I was injured." She didn't think he noticed. He felt her stiffen in surprise and his chest rumbled with soft laughter again. "Sleep, wife," he whispered against her hair.

If it wasn't so damned comfortable, so soothing with the rustle of rain in the thicket above, the soft sound of his breathing, the warm rise and fall of his chest against her back, she'd put him in his place good. But the day had been long and raw, and his arms really did fit around her like they were happy there. It didn't take long before she gave up trying to be annoyed, and fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 4

Mornings after intimate discussions could be difficult. The light of day would make it impossible to hide from the dark confessions the night made it possible to share. Tenet knew that for a fact, and was very glad he woke first. He didn't want this morning to be hard for her. There was nothing said last night to regret, from either of them, and the last thing he wanted was any awkwardness when they were just starting to really understand each other.

Tenet slipped out from their little shelter in the thicket and was glad he had time to get the upper hand. As he learned weeks ago, he was the experienced one in terms of personal interactions. It was the only leg up he had on his wife, and he decided to embrace that responsibility. He changed into clean clothes, washed up in the river, and wanted to get a fire going. Since everything was soggy from the storm, that wasn't going to be easy. He had wanted to have breakfast all set for her to focus on. He swore and kicked at the sodden ashes, then ran a hand through his hair. It suddenly dawned on him how nervous he was, and he laughed at himself. Who was the experienced one, again?

He walked down the line of bushes until he found some with thick undergrowth similar to the bushes they'd slept in, and even though it scratched up his hands, he managed to pull enough dead growth from deep inside for a small fire. He went back to their camp and after a few failed attempts, finally got a spark to take. He fed the dry sticks into the growing flame. Once he was confident that it would stay ablaze, he dragged Scarab's pack over and fished out the coffee. There wasn't much left, but it would be enough to get the day going on a positive note. The pan held the last few eggs, and he dumped them out onto a clear patch of earth next to the fire. He rinsed the pan out in the river and filled it with water.

By the time Scarab woke and gained enough courage to face Tenet, she could smell hot coffee. She came out of their little shelter, then went behind bushes to take care of her morning business. She washed up in the river and made her way back to camp slowly, unsure of what to say or do. So much happened in the night, so much was said. The mud of the river bank felt like a fitting analogy for her current feelings as it shifted unsteadily under her feet.

Tenet watched her take her time, then hollered over. "I made coffee. Come on. Let's wake up and head out before we get too comfy in this place." She didn't look up, but took the coffee and squatted, staring into the fire.

Awkward. He was completely right about that. He cleared his throat. "I saw tracks over that way. I think it's another deer. It was something big, anyway. What else is there around here?"

"I don't know," she said, still staring at the fire but glad to have something to talk about to cut the tension. "I know that further north there are bears. There's some wild cattle." She tried to remember what else. As a child, she hadn't really bothered to take notice of the life around her. It simply was. Had she been older when they left, had she had to worry about protecting their land, or feeding children, she would have gained a better understanding. But since she was young, everything was just taken for granted.

"Do bears really attack people?"

She shrugged. "I...maybe. I know they can be mean." She sipped the coffee and almost choked. "What the hell did you do to my coffee?"

Tenet grimaced. "It's the water. All that crap churned up from the rain made it a little muddy. I boiled it good, though. Should be safe enough."

Scarab choked it down. She wasn't going to waste coffee, no matter how muddy it tasted. "Thanks for the coffee," she said, trying hard to mean it. She flashed him a wry smile.

Her smile lifted his spirits. It was the first time she looked at him that morning. He grinned back. "I told you I was a good cook."

She rolled her eyes and stood. "Great. Now you have a swelled head." She stretched in the morning light, then gave him an unsure look.

Tenet stood and started stamping out the fire. "You said yesterday we need to pick up the pace today, right?"

She was glad he didn't start the morning talking where they left off last night. In fact, he seemed hell bent on babbling about anything else, and she wondered if he felt as uncomfortable about the level of intimacy as she did. He was either ignoring it or moving on. She was happy to follow his lead. "Yeah. In fact...let's get a good look at those tracks."

He looked up and cocked his eyebrow. "You think they were made by a patrol?"

"Possibly."

Tenet nodded and pulled the blankets from their little nest. As he shook them out and rolled them up, Scarab cleaned out the dishes and got them situated in her pack. They worked quickly together, each knowing their own jobs, and were ready to roll out in less than five minutes. They ate the leftover eggs as they walked down the river towards the tracks.

Scarab squatted next to the clear line of disturbed grass. Whatever made the path through the grass came through after the storm had finished. She squinted down the line of crushed stalks, then followed it with her eyes to the river bank. She bent near the water and examined the tracks, then scanned the far bank, looking for where it came out. After a few minutes of consideration, she stood and wiped off her hands.

"So?"

"Animal. Maybe deer, but it would have to be a really big one."

"But you're sure it's not a patrol?"

She shook her head. "Wouldn't make sense for it to be. They patrol in lines. Whatever made these tracks crossed the river and drifted. The water's a little high in its banks from the rain, but not enough to throw anyone determined to get from point A to point B off course. Wouldn't be a bot, because they wouldn't deploy a walker in this environment. There's too much uneven terrain, too many creeks, too much wet. That leaves animal. Maybe cattle, though I think I'd see signs of meandering, or stopping to graze. I'm going with large deer. The one we observed yesterday moved with purpose, probably to get back to the cover of trees."

Tenet listened in wonder as she explained her reasoning to him. "You got all that figured out from a line in the grass?"

She laughed. "No. Not just the line in the grass. I've been doing this awhile, Tenet. I know how to track. It's what I do. And while I don't know for sure which animal made these signs, I can almost guarantee you that it wasn't human or bot."

He quirked an eyebrow and gave her one of his half smiles. "You're betting our lives on almost?"

"Yep. Always." She grinned at him and turned around. "Let's get going. Just because this one line wasn't a patrol doesn't mean they aren't here."

They traveled hard that day. Several times they crossed similar tracks, but didn't stop to investigate. They were entering a land with lots of wild life, and it made Scarab feel a little more secure to know that no matter what, if they couldn't find anything else to eat, she could easily hunt down game for them. It gave her hope for when they crossed. If nothing else, Tenet could work and she could feed them.

When the sun was starting to set and they finally stopped by a small stand of the white trees, Tenet opened his shirt and leaned back, letting the cool evening breeze take off the heat of the hard day. "You weren't kidding when you said we'd push," he said, rubbing his aching thigh.

Scarab shot him a concerned look. "Too much?"

He shook his head. "No. It'll be fine. Just have to rub out some of the sore."

Scarab felt the ache of the fast travel herself and wished they could have found another stream. A good soak in cold water would have felt amazing. The best they could do was find a bubbling spring, enough for drinking but not even close to enough for bathing. She cupped her hands and filled them, then splashed her face and head with the water. Not a bath, but it would have to do. She filled their canteens and rolled out their blankets under the largest tree, letting Tenet rest.

"They're actually getting closer," he said, nodding toward the mountains. "They've been taunting us for days."

"We'll reach them by mid morning tomorrow, I'd say." Scarab dug in her pack for the wild onions, eggs, and one snake they'd come across through the day. She skinned the snake, then stood and stretched. "Okay, your turn, chef."

Tenet pushed up and clenched his jaw to keep from grimacing. His thigh spasmed, and he wondered if he'd always have troubles with it. A few steps took out the worst of the stabbing pain, and he gathered up wood for a fire.

"Make it small," Scarab instructed, taking over his comfy spot at the base of the tree. She wished they didn't need a fire at all. She was sure they could choke down the onions and eggs without cooking them, but the snake was much needed protein. They were both losing weight and couldn't afford to pass up that meal, and she didn't know if that was safe to eat raw.

"Yes, ma'am." He snapped a salute and gave her a wink before he got to work. He decided to go all out and got some of the dried herbs from his medical kit. While some were strictly medicinal, some of them were also used as beneficial flavorings. They could both use some extra vitamins, and he selected a few that would give them the greatest boost. He hacked the snake into chunks and tossed it in the pot with some water and the herbs. He peeled the onions, then tossed them and the greens in the snake soup. While that bubbled, he took out one of the metal cups and cracked the eggs into it.

"Getting fancy over there," Scarab said.

Tenet smiled. "I told you I can cook." He added some herbs to the eggs, then whisked them up with the blade of his knife and set the cup on the side of the fire, stirring it once in awhile. After about a half hour, the onions were tender, the snake was cooked, and he declared it dinner time. He served half the eggs in each cup with onions and snake chunks. Out of the ingredients he had to use, he'd only cooked onions and herbs before, and was surprised at how good everything else tasted.

"Not a bad showing," Scarab said, her mouth full of snake. It was stringy, but tasty. "Could use a little salt."

Tenet looked up, then smiled after her face broke out in a teasing grin. They ate quickly, then got the fire stamped out and settled down for the night. Neither could sleep, so they stared up through the light covering of leaves far above as the stars twinkled between their gently swaying natural roof.

"Do you think we'll find a place as pretty as this?"

Scarab had to agree that it was nice in this valley. Like Tenet, she could see a way to survive here. Not just survive, she corrected. Live. Actually live. If it weren't for the fact that they were still in Southland, it would be damn near perfect. She sighed. "I don't know. I hope so." She was laying next to him, her head propped on his arm.

They watched the sky above them. Miles above, a meteor streaked across their view. To Tenet, it felt like his spring nights at home, right before they'd have to pack and leave. After the crops were in. After the staff was tallied, paid, and sent away. After Mother stopped her henpecking because there simply wasn't anything left to do but wait for the transports to arrive. After his father packed out ahead of them to set up their winter stead. It felt like that, only better. Not lonely.

His eyes caught sight of another meteor, but after a few seconds, he frowned. "That's a weird meteor."

Scarab watched the moving light. It was weird. It didn't streak across the sky and fade out. In fact, it seemed to move slowly. It seemed to grow a little, too.

"It almost looks like it's getting closer, doesn't it?"

And then the sound reached her trained ears. It was faint, but unmistakable, and the little voice in her head screamed the familiar warning. "Bot!" she whispered harshly, jumping up and looking around, her mind moving a mile a minute trying to make a plan.

Tenet didn't bother to ask if she was sure. He knew that look on her face by then. He jumped up and crouched like she was, scrambling to roll up their bedding and hastily throwing their supplies back into whatever pack was closest. "What's the plan?" he whispered, never doubting that she'd have one.

They were too open where they were. The bot was scanning high, but coming down. She didn't know whose side owned it, who was watching the other end of the projected camera image, but she didn't want to stick around to find out. Why the hell hadn't they just sucked it up and kept going through the night? Or at least to the mile or so of forest that appeared to be at the base of towering rocks. They could have pushed and gotten that far and had a little cover. Scarab frowned. There was no time for chastising, she told herself. A plan formed.

"We need to get back in the grass," she whispered firmly.

"Out in the open?" Tenet hissed.

"No. We'll crawl, then lay low and see what it does."

It wasn't much of a plan, but since he couldn't think of anything better, he dropped to all fours and followed her out of the stand of trees and back into wet, thick grass. He let her lead, and after a few minutes he, too, picked up the sound of the bot.

"Get down," she hissed over her shoulder.

Tenet went to his stomach flat on the ground and hoped the tall grass offered more cover than he felt like it did. He heard Scarab scramble ahead of him, but knew to do exactly what she said. He hoped the pounding of his heart in his throat didn't give them away as he tried to get his breathing to calm. The bot got louder and he bit his lip and closed his eyes, as if he could wish them invisible. The hum and faint beeps and buzzes from the bot filled his ears, and he was sure it was right over him. When the noise stayed the same level, he just hoped it was a recon bot, and not the kind that killed. He inched his hand slowly down his side, hoping the small movement would go undetected. After painfully tense seconds he was sure took years off his life, his hand was finally at his waist, gripping the butt of his gun.

"It's going away," Scarab whispered, her voice right by his ear making him jump. Tenet's hand tensed on his gun and for a fraction of a second he was sure he pulled the trigger. "Stay down, stay still," she said in his ear. "I'm going to watch it." He was too relieved to argue and lay panting in the dirt, thankful he hadn't gotten enough grip on the gun to shoot himself in his panic.

After about a minute, Scarab patted his back. "Come on. We're going to move." She stood hunched, her eyes toward the southern skyline. "Keep low in case we need to hit the dirt again."

He nodded and followed her lead. It was awkward, especially with the heavy pack on his back and his sore leg, but he didn't dare stand any taller than he absolutely had to. He had seen firsthand what the bots could do if they wanted. "What was it?"

"Recon bot, I'm sure of it."

"Looking for us?"

She sighed in exasperation. "Since it came in from the south and couldn't wait to go back there after catching our scent, I'd say that's a pretty safe bet."

Tenet knew her annoyed tone was mostly from the tension of the situation and not his questions. He also knew that it was time to follow her lead and keep his mouth shut. He had no problems complying. Besides, half-running over uneven ground while hunched down with fifty pounds of supplies strapped to his back was taking all of his concentration. It wasn't long before his legs and lower back were burning, and he was breathing very heavily. "How much more like this?"

Scarab kept looking behind them, above them, ahead of them, searching for any more signs. Stupid, she yelled at herself. Stupid, lazy, incompetent... She should have picked up on that bot way before she did. If she hadn't been so... Tenet's question interrupted her thoughts and she snapped at him. "I don't know, okay?" When he didn't snap back at her, she felt guilty. It wasn't his fault. She stopped and squinted in the dark behind them. He stood and gave a small moan when he stretched. "Shh," she hissed, straining to hear any more telltale hum. All was quiet. She noticed he was rubbing his thigh and frowned. There was nothing to do for it but push through. "You have any herbs that will help?"

He gave a nod. "Do we have time to get them out?"

"Hurry. I'll keep watch."

Tenet dropped his pack on the ground and shuffled around inside it, coming out with a pair of Scarab's underwear. "Um, I don't think this is my pack."

She took off the pack she was wearing, then grabbed up her own as he found the herbs. She watched him shove a large pinch of dry herbs into his mouth and tuck them into his cheek. He cinched his pack shut, put it on his back, and gave a nod. "All set," he mumbled around the mouthful of leaves.

They set out again, this time standing erect, with Scarab in the rear. After an hour of tense, quick marching, they reached another small smattering of trees and Scarab called for a break. "We'll take ten minutes. How's the leg?"

Tenet sat heavily on his pack and gave her a half smile. "A-okay, boss lady." His eyes were funny.

"What did you take?"

Tenet waved off her concern. "What'll get me there. How far we gotta go tonight?" He was slurring his words, but asking the right questions. He was coherent enough, and Scarab didn't say anything else about his choice of pain killers.

"I don't know. I haven't seen any other signs." She gnawed at her bottom lip, staring south.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said absently.

He sighed. "Wife you tell me what's bothering you right now."

She shot him an annoyed look, but answered. "What do you know about recon bots?" He made a little noise and held his fingers in the shape of a zero. "They gather intel, of course. Lots of it. Everything from video to environmental conditions every second of their travel pattern."

"Why?"

"To track. To hunt. To watch. But mostly, to help the humans at the other end make the best possible plan."

Tenet was having a little trouble following her. "What kind of plan?"

"In this case, I have the sneaking suspicion we're the 'kind of plan'."

It took a few heartbeats before he understood. "Oh." It was all he could say through his drugged haze.

Scarab watched Tenet's face, saw him take it in, roll it around in his fuzzy head for a minute, then understand. And all he could say was, "Oh?" If her subconscious could take over, she'd be running around, waving her hands in the air and screaming that the end of the world was nigh. And he says, "Oh." Maybe he didn't fully understand what she was saying. "These recon bots are short range, Tenet. They gather too much intel to be able to travel long distances."

"How short?"

"A few miles. Maybe up to twenty, at the very outside and only the top priced models."

Tenet felt his eyes getting heavy and noticed his vision begin to blur. "Then we gotta go," he mumbled, lurching up suddenly.

Scarab jumped up and grabbed his arm to steady him. "Damn it, Tenet! How much did you take?"

"Enough," he said, giving his head a hard shake. He took the water she offered and the cool liquid helped him focus. "Let's go."

They had no choice. Scarab helped him get his pack on, wishing she was strong enough to carry both. He got it settled on his back, swayed, then put his hands out until he steadied. He took off without another word. Some part of his brain warned him that he'd pay for it later. The other part warned him if they didn't push hard, there wouldn't _be_ a later. He listened to that part and began telling himself to take one more step.

Scarab heard his soft words, "One more step," over and over and really began to worry. They did not need him to be laid up another three days. They couldn't afford even one day. She weighed the options. If they stopped now for a few hours, maybe it would give him enough of a break. "We'll go an hour more, then stop for a rest."

"No," he said firmly.

"We can't have you laid up again."

"And we can't get caught by my father."

She sighed. "Don't decide to be stubborn now of all times."

"Don't decide I'm a baby now of all times."

"We can't risk you holding us up another three days." She was sorry for the words, but didn't take them back. It was the truth.

"That won't happen. It's muscle ache, not infection. Nothing to be done for it but ride it out." He was breathing hard, but sounding more sure and less drugged out.

"Fine. Be stubborn."

"I plan on it."

They walked in silence for another two hours before he couldn't be stubborn anymore. They needed a break. By now, they were out of the tall grass and the patches of trees grew more frequent and more dense. Any recon bot would have to move slower, giving much more warning if it came near. They set up under the branches of an enormous pine tree and exhaustion had them both sleeping before they could even bother with bedrolls.

Tenet woke to a dull throbbing in his head. He groaned and shifted, then was hard pressed to decide if the throb in his head was worse than the ache of his leg. He took a couple deep breaths and pushed himself up, waiting for the world to stop spinning around him. It was the end result of his hasty decision to down a palm full of carobina leaves. He squeezed his eyes tight and tried to keep his stomach calm, but the effort was for naught and he scrambled on hands and knees out from under the tree to be sick. He kept telling himself he'd feel better for it as he heaved and heaved until there was nothing left.

"I'd ask how you're feeling but that seems a little insensitive at the moment." He looked up at Scarab, then frowned at the grin on her face. She handed him water and he took it, squeezing his eyes tight and willing the liquid to stay in his stomach. He needed to rehydrate. Fortunately the water stayed put.

"Coffee?" he croaked.

"Sorry. Can't risk a fire."

That's not what Tenet meant. He crawled back under the tree and found her pack. He dug out the can of coffee and tipped a handful of grounds into his palm. He swallowed hard, then put them in his mouth and began to chew.

"I didn't know you were that much of a caffeine freak."

Scarab was still amused, and it irritated the hell out of him. He chewed the hideous mouth full, then choked it down with some of the water. "The caffeine will help the headache," he mumbled. "How long was I asleep?"

"Five or so hours. It's full light, but overcast. I think it's going to rain, which will suck to hike in, but it'll keep the bots at bay."

He closed his eyes and leaned against the trunk of the tree, waiting for the rush of caffeine to take the edge off the headache. "Have there been any more?"

"No. I was just about to climb up and have a look."

"Climb what?"

"This tree."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "No. It's too dangerous."

Scarab shot him a look and rolled her eyes. "I'm going to take advice from the man who has to chew coffee grounds in a desperate attempt to get rid of the hangover he gave himself because he was too damn stubborn to wait an hour and give his leg a chance to rest?" She gave his good leg a few hard pats. "Don't think so, buddy." She jumped up and began climbing. "It's the best view we'll get without a helmet. God I wish I kept my suit!" A few bits of bark fell from where her feet dug into the old tree and got in Tenet's eyes.

"Be careful up there!" he barked, instantly sorry he yelled.

"Nag, nag," she called down in an almost happy voice. If Tenet didn't know better, he'd think she was enjoying herself. He would have been shocked to know she was. She always loved the thrill of bounty hunting, and as sick as it was, part of her thrilled at being hunted as well. It was the rush of outsmarting the opponent, the test of cleverness, the trial of fortitude and cunning. She scrambled up the tree branches, almost giddy. She was relieved they knew their enemy. The more she thought about it, the more sure she was that Tenet's father had his minions on them. Yes, they were a little too close for comfort. But at least now she knew her enemy. She knew where they were. She even knew what they were using to track, and that was a huge leg up.

She pulled herself up as high as she dared on the swiftly thinning, aged branches. Another shouted warning from Tenet reached her ears, but she ignored it. Scarab carefully anchored her feet on branches below her perch, and then took her time scanning the southern horizon. The view was breathtakingly beautiful in the gray morning. She looked across the wide valley they'd been traveling for days and marveled at how far they had come. She was very pleased to see that from any distance, their tracks looked like the same game paths that crisscrossed the prairie. From this distance, there was no way of telling human from deer, and that was a major advantage.

The sun poked through the clouds for a moment, and Scarab shaded her eyes with her hand. She wished again she had the magnification of her Summer suit's visor, and was cursing herself again when a flash in the distance caught her eye. She concentrated on the spot and saw the flash again. Her heart raced. "Gotcha," she whispered. The clouds covered the sun again and a faint rumble of thunder rolled down the valley. She knew she had to get out of the tree before it rained, but she needed a better idea of distance, and a look at what lay ahead for them. She scanned the valley and mentally counted back stands of trees. She found the one she believed was where they had seen the bot, then thought about how long it took to get between there and the current cluster of trees. She estimated that the stand was five or so miles away. The flash of light looked to be at least twice as far, but she knew she couldn't risk making that assessment. To be safe, she would set her mind to believe the group hunting them was at the stand of trees already.

Turning in the tree, Scarab looked to the north. They'd be in thick tree cover within an hour if they could travel at a steady rate. Then they'd start moving up. That would be the hard part, especially with Tenet's leg. Hopefully his hangover would be lessened by the time they got into the real hiking. The rain began to fall in earnest, and Tenet was hollering constantly for her to get out of the tree. She sighed and called out for him to cool it with the shouting, then carefully made her way down the slick branches. When she hit the ground, Tenet was standing with his hands on his hips, his eyes brooding.

"You should have started down when you heard the thunder."

Scarab rolled her eyes. "How did I ever manage to keep myself alive before I met you?"

"I wonder that all the time," he muttered. He picked up his pack and settled it on his back.

"Feeling better yet?"

"As good as I'm going to. See anything interesting?"

"Yeah. Your pop's decided to come hunting."

His eyes turned darker, his jaw clenched. "How far back?" he asked after a moment, unable to keep anger from his voice.

"About where we started last night."

"Shit." He looked back, as if he could see through the trees. "Let's go, then."

Scarab put on her pack and clipped the strap in front of her. "We're looking at only about an hour, maybe a little more of this flat land, then we start to climb. Think you can handle it?"

"Do we have a choice?" When she didn't answer, Tenet nodded. "Go."

It was a horrible day. Tenet's leg killed him, the rain picked up from a light mist to a pounding downpour that didn't want to let up, and the terrain got steep and deep far sooner than Scarab expected. While the trees weren't very dense, the undergrowth, untouched for hundreds of years, was thick and thorny. They had to take turns hacking with a large knife just to make it through.

"Wish we didn't have to leave such an obvious trail," she lamented, mostly just to say something.

"This can't last forever," he replied, taking the knife and the lead for awhile.

He was right, of course. It didn't last forever. It only felt like it had. By the time the undergrowth thinned and the trees thickened, Tenet's arms were as sore as his leg. He was happy to see Scarab buckle the knife to her belt. It would be easier travel. It would have been, too, if it weren't so steep. There were several areas that required them to pull themselves up the slick, pine needle path by the trunks of smaller trees. They were too exhausted for words, and neither talked for hours.

The one good thing about the rain was that it kept any recon bots away. They couldn't travel in the heavy rains, and even if the people controlling them were narrowing the gap, they'd hit the steep, wet terrain, too. Sure, they would already have a path through the undergrowth, but only if they took the same line. Scarab felt confident that the odds on that were incredibly slim.

The long morning rolled slowly into late afternoon. They were soaked. Everything unsealed in their packs was probably soaked, too. They'd be stupid to have a fire, but they might be dead if they didn't. They had little in the way of food, and as they continued to travel every up, Scarab saw nothing that gave her hope they'd be able to forage, either. The dense canopy left little light to reach the floor and allow anything to grow, even if edibles could somehow gain purchase on the steep slope. It was too rainy to hear or see signs of animals, so she didn't even know if she could hunt anything. All in all, by the time Tenet had to call for a rest, their morale was at rock bottom.

Scarab looked around. They couldn't rest right where they were, on another steep, wet, pine needle patch. Bracing herself against the trunk of a tree, she scanned for a plan. "Okay," she said eventually. "We'll get to the top of this rise, then you can sit under that big tree up over there and I'll see if I can find something out of the rain."

Tenet gave a nod. One big push, he told himself. They lurched up the rise and over the top. To their relief, the ground leveled somewhat and he stumbled gratefully to the big tree trunk and flopped down. "Oh, god that feels good," he said.

Scarab removed her pack and leaned it against the tree trunk. The rain was slowing to a mist again. Either that or the canopy was so thick it was keeping it out. Whatever the reason, the constant barrage of pounding raindrops had stopped. She ran a hand through her wet hair to stop it's dripping in her eyes and looked around. "There are tons of rocks here," she muttered, half to herself. "I'll be right back." She set off toward a large outcropping.

Tenet closed his eyes and breathed deep and slow, calming his body down after the extreme exertion of the day. His leg was killing him, but the headache had eased. It was something, anyway. When he was breathing normally, he started to shiver and realized how wet he was. They needed to get warm and dry, and he hoped Scarab could come up with a plan to make that happen. He was just too exhausted to think.

"Hey." Tenet felt his shoulder being shaken and bolted up. He must have fallen asleep. "Think you can push another half mile or so?" At his unsure look, Scarab gave an encouraging smile. "I promise it'll be worth it."

He stood and wearily grabbed up his pack. "Lead on, wife."

It seemed to take forever to get where they were going. The woods around them darkened with the coming night. Had they really been through a whole day? It didn't seem like it. They sure didn't get very far. And yet it some ways, it felt like a week. He'd never traveled lands like this. The first mountain they had climbed was just a baby, a sad little hill in comparison. He'd felt so big, so great, so worthy when he climbed it. He gave a bitter little laugh at his naivety, waving off her questioning look. Some things weren't worth explaining.

"Here we are," she said, stopping at last.

All he saw were rocks. "Uh, okay."

Scarab sighed. "It's a cave, Tenet. Come on." She lead the way over some sharp rocks, and then all at once he could see the dark opening of a cave. He had to be right on top of it to notice, and knew if it was deep enough, they'd be safe from detection all night. Safe, and, most importantly, dry. He grinned in approval and the thought of a warm, dry night gave him a fresh boost of energy. He eagerly climbed the rocks behind Scarab, and soon they were several feet into complete darkness.

"Hold on," she muttered, then took out her flashlight. Shining it around them, she revealed a spacious, empty hole in the rocks, with a high ceiling and a mostly smooth floor. "I'll see if I can find anything dry to burn for a fire."

"I'll get the bedrolls set up."

Tenet worked in mostly darkness by touch. One bedroll was completely soggy. He got it out anyway and laid it flat on the cave floor, hoping it would dry. The other was mostly dry, with only a damp corner. It would have to do. He opened one pack, unsure of whose it was, and began taking out the clothing from inside. By the size of the garments, it was his pack. One shirt felt dry, but everything else was wet. He felt around for the seeds he was carrying, and a quick check on the plastic zippered bag reassured him they were still dry inside. The medicine container was also sealed and the contents intact. He stumbled around and laid out the clothing as best he could, then went through the same process with Scarab's pack. The last few protein bars were soggy blobs, and her clothing was also drenched. The truly important things, the seeds and ammunition, were dry. Tenet decided that overall, it could have been worse.

Scarab returned with an armload of half dry wood. "I've got another pile out there waiting. See if you can get some of this started."

Tenet snapped some of the driest pieces into smaller kindling, then scooped up some old leaves and pine needles from the edges of the cave. He got the pine needles to light with the flint, but it took three tries, a lot of dried leaves, and even more swears before the kindling actually took. It was nearly a half hour before he felt confident the fire would stay blazing.

"Thank god that worked," Scarab said, her teeth chattering.

"You need to get out of your wet clothes."

"So do you," she stammered, holding her hands to the small fire. "Do we have anything dry?"

"I have one shirt, you've got zip. One blanket's not too bad."

It wasn't a good situation to be in. "Okay. We'll get our stuff off and lay the driest things close to the fire to be ready as soon as possible. We'll sit under the blanket and hope the fire stays lit."

It was the best plan they were going to get, and a few minutes later, huddled together trying to get warm, Tenet had to admit it did have some merits.

"I'm starving," Scarab said once her shivering had settled down.

"The protein bars are soggy lumps." Tenet picked them up from the wet blanket they were sitting on. "We'll have to pretend they're soup."

"Mmm. Cold protein soup. Don't you know by now that's my favorite?" Scarab asked with a grin. It was amazing how much better being in a dry place with a fire going made her feel. It always worked like a charm through the winters, no matter how bad the situation was. A warm fire and meal, no matter how bad the food was, made all the difference. They slurped the mushy protein in silence and stared into the life saving flames. Every once in awhile, one of them would check on the clothes, keeping the blanket around them as well as possible. When they each had a shirt completely dry, they put them on, still huddling under the blankets. The pants took forever to dry, but Tenet was amazed just how great each little upturn in their situation felt.

"I never thought I'd be so damn happy to be sitting in a shirt and underwear."

Scarab shrugged. "Being sprayed by a coonskunk is better than being stuck in shit."

Tenet snorted. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just something Hark used to say when he was training me. Basic survival. If you're in deep, your brain really doesn't need much at all to remember it _can_ get better. We had one hell of a crappy day. I'm not going to lie. If we didn't find this cave, we'd be in trouble." Though Tenet already knew that, hearing a seasoned pro like her admit it freely made him shiver. "But, we did. We found it, and our brains went into euphoria because it's clear we'll survive."

"We're still in trouble."

She shrugged. "Yes, but less trouble than we were an hour ago."

Tenet added another small bundle of sticks to the fire. "Can we really afford to stay here tonight?"

It was a damn good question, and one she couldn't really answer. He deserved honesty, and she decided not to sugar coat it. "We made horrible time today."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Why? It's not your fault. I couldn't have pushed much harder if I was on my own." He knew she was lying, and was oddly touched. "That terrain was a lot steeper than I thought. And I had no idea we'd have to go through a mile of thicket first." She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top, staring into the fire. "The only plus is that whoever's following us had the same shitty conditions. I couldn't see them clearly, so I have no idea how many there are , or what else they have for advantages beyond recon bots."

"So we're basically easy pickings," he said flatly.

She shook her head. "No," she said firmly, hoping he'd believe it. She couldn't let his morale slip back down. "I know it feels like that, but we have a couple advantages ourselves, not the least of which being that we have shelter."

"They probably have tents."

"Not if they're serious hunters."

"Like you."

"Yes. A tent slows you down. Any mobile shelter would. And even if they're not that good, which I fail to believe, it would be impossible to pitch any kind of tent on the side of this mountain. I didn't notice any other signs of caves up to this point, and they can't go ahead in the dark in this kind of terrain. It would be beyond foolish to try."

Tenet thought about it and agreed that she had a point. They did have the slight advantage of a head start. "What did you mean when you said you didn't believe they weren't as good as you?"

"Your father paid top dollar for the very best to find you the first time," she said without a shred of false modesty. Tenet couldn't help but laugh at her conceit. She shrugged it off. "Laugh if you want, but it's true. My record speaks for itself. You are the one and only bounty I never completed."

Tenet poked at the fire with a damp stick. He was quiet so long, Scarab wondered if she said too much. It was the truth, though. She couldn't hide it and wouldn't deny it. When he did finally say something, it was to ask her a simple question.

"Why?"

She knew what he was asking, but had no idea how to answer. The panic she felt over getting too close began to rise up inside. "Why what?" she asked, scrambling for time.

He turned his head to look at her. "Why didn't you just turn me over and go on with your life?"

She couldn't tell him that she wondered that every second of every day since setting eyes on him lying there in the ashes, pathetically dehydrated and hopelessly lost in his own damn yard.

"You were the best, you said."

"Damn right," she whispered.

"How many bounties did you have over the years?"

Dozens. Too many to count. More than most, less than she wanted.

"Why me, Scarab?"

She was too tired. She had enough. She couldn't face another day of pushing, aching, hurting. She was lonely. She was sick of running and desperately wanted a life. Any of those answers would have been enough for him. But none of them were exactly true. Part of the story, maybe, but not the whole picture. The simple truth was that she didn't know what it was about him that got to her from the start.

"Why take the job at all if you weren't planning on seeing it through?" he asked when she didn't answer.

"I planned on completing it." Mostly. She never planned on killing him. She prided herself in bringing her bounties in alive, no matter how much more money was offered for delivering a body.

"Then why didn't you?"

She shook her head. "I just..."

"Why?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I don't know," she whispered back.

He searched her face for a minute before giving a little nod. He didn't know what he had hoped for, what he wanted to hear. Some confession of love? He wondered if she even knew what that emotion was. No, he wasn't looking for that. He was simply looking for some sense in what had become a crazy, unfathomable situation. "I guess that's not the important part, hm?" He gave her a smile he hoped he pulled off.

"I couldn't turn you in to a man who'd pay more to have his own son brought back dead." It was as honest as she could be.

"Are you sorry?"

"No." Her quick reply let him know she was telling the truth. Not that she lied to him, he admitted to himself. She never did. She evaded the truth. She ignored parts of questions she didn't want to answer. But, so far, she hadn't lied to him. It struck him then that she was the only one in his life who didn't.

"Why won't he just stop?"

Scarab knew he was hurting. "The border. Once we cross, he'll have no choice."

Tenet shook his head. "I don't know about that."

"He wouldn't dare piss off the Borderlands."

Tenet gave a short laugh. "You've never met my father."

"Yes, I have. And I can tell you for a fact that he's smaller than he thinks." Tenet quirked an eyebrow in question, but she looked back into the fire and kept talking. "The Borderlands doesn't need any of the other governments. That's the point. That's why they exist, to be completely self sufficient. And they pull it off, have for hundreds of years. There's turmoil, sure. There's the same political crap that goes on everywhere else. Someone's always going to be crazy, someone else will always have to put him in his place, someone else thinks their idea is the best, while someone else knows for a fact theirs is better. Same world, same humans, same problems. The advantage the Borderlands has over the rest of the world is that they are united in their desire to be able to tell the rest of the world to piss off. The rest of the world, they don't have that. Nations still battle other nations because they all need each other."

"Great. So they're all rebels together. I don't get how that's an advantage."

"Because they don't need the rest of the world. The rest of the world, however, needs them."

He had to laugh at that. As someone so intimate with the upper levels of government, he knew she was wrong on that one and told her so.

"Laugh if you want. While you're laughing, though, why don't you stop and think about this. Who bailed you out when you had the nationwide drought a few years ago?"

He sighed. "We have an emergency fund for situations like that."

"Right. Money."

"Yes. Which people could use to buy food when their...crops..." his voice petered out and he frowned deeply. Where the hell had people bought food from if the crops failed? He wracked his brain, but couldn't remember even questioning it at the time. Stipends were distributed, people bought food from suppliers instead of trading their crops for others. The drought was the worst they'd seen in decades and affected most every agro group. Now that she brought it up, though, it never occurred to question why they still had a bountiful amount of their regular foods when there should have been major changes to the diet. Maybe he was remembering incorrectly? Maybe they did have to cut back and he just didn't pay attention.

"They rely on the Borderlands when they need to," Scarab answered for him. "Not just crops, but meat."

Tenet shook his head. "No. Now that I can't believe. We eat so little meat."

"Some of you. The bulk of your work force still eats meat, even if it's not a daily thing. Haven't you ever eaten in the lesser quarters before?"

Tenet didn't care for her insinuation. "Of course I did! And never once did I see a bit of meat in their homes."

"Maybe they were being nice and honoring your traditions while you were a guest." More like kissing his ass, but she didn't have the heart to say that.

Was that true? Did people like Mobi and Carla, people he considered childhood friends, people he played with, people he later treated and refused payments from...did they really think they had to change who they were around him? The idea made him feel sick, as if he couldn't even have that one, small scrap of pleasant memory. "Even if that's true," he said, steering the conversation back to the topic at hand. "We farm animals."

"Yes, and your government only allows them to be raised a certain way, and slaughtered only when their own natural end of life is near."

"It's the only humane way to do it. I see nothing wrong with it."

"You certainly had no problem eating the fish and snake." His face instantly turned red. "Now, I'm no expert, but I certainly didn't see any wrinkles on any of them."

"That's different," he insisted. "That's a matter of survival."

"And when your crops of corn sell for ten times the cost of a side of beef, it comes down to a matter of survival for anyone who isn't at the top!" She didn't mean to shout. Tenet had grown so much, changed so much. But in this one thing, he had to see, had to understand. He was no longer rich. He wouldn't be ever again. She knew he had a picture of getting to the Borderlands, and then having everything be right as rain. There was no fancy house waiting for them at the end of the journey. There wasn't a warm meal and a happy ending. Whatever they were going to have, they would have to struggle to get for themselves. He still thought in terms of "us" and "them", and she was afraid he wouldn't understand that he was now a "them" until it was too late.

"You have a certain view of the world," she said more kindly. "And that view is for the top ten percent of those living in your integrated nations. For most of the people, life is hard. Life here is hard, life in the Borderlands is harder. You grew up not eating animals because you were rich enough to be able to live without the nutrients meat provides. You could afford substitutes. Most people, your workers included, can't. You can't. You ate the fish and the snake to survive. Tenet, the people that have to buy cheap meat from the Borderlands every month, they are just doing it to survive. And your government allows it so they can pretend their system works." She waited for him to object, and was slightly surprised that he didn't. "Think about your friends, your colleagues, the people you've been raised around. What would happen if they knew that the majority of their people had to buy the very basics from a world they refuse to acknowledge exists? It would be earth shattering. Your whole system would crumble."

He rolled his eyes at that. "That's a little overly dramatic."

She shrugged. "I stand by it."

He wished he could write off what she was saying as anti-governmental propaganda. But he couldn't. Her words combined with everything else he had learned over the past two months. They rang with a truth that couldn't be denied. "So. We need the Borderlands."

"Since we are about to be citizens of the Borderlands, I think you should get used to saying, they need us."

He sighed heavily. "It still won't keep my father out."

"He'd be a moron to start something with the Borderlands. He doesn't strike me as a moron. Monster? Bastard? Slime ball of the century? Sure. But not a moron."

Tenet laughed at her attempt to lighten the mood. "I sure hope you're right." He took the blanket from around their shoulders and laid it on the ground. He lay on top, holding his arm out and waiting for her to join him. When she did, he pulled half the blanket over them and tucked her into his chest tightly. "How long can we sleep?"

She yawned, feeling the weight of the day swamp her all at once. "I guess until we wake up," she said. He mumbled something, then began to snore. In minutes, Scarab could no longer keep her eyes open and stopped trying, lulled to sleep by the feel of his arms around her and the soft snoring that was quickly becoming pleasantly familiar.

Chapter 5

"Young man, we need to have a talk." His father loomed dark and serious over Tenet.

"Father! What are you doing here?"

"You know why I'm here," he said, the familiar iciness of his voice chilling Tenet as it always had.

The dread filled Tenet. "Can't you just let me be?"

Tenet Bradwin the third laughed with all the mirth of Death himself. "You've got to be joking. How can I let my only son just 'be'? Be what? A hooligan? A drifter? A half-man with his head in the clouds?"

Tenet knew no response was necessary, just as he knew any response would, in fact, make everything worse. He learned early on in life to quietly take his lumps.

"I know," his father said, his face twisting into a sneer. "You want to be like your mother. You always have. Tell me why her approval is so important to you, when you couldn't care less about mine." Tenet did open his mouth then to tell his father just how wrong he was, but the man wouldn't hear it. "You can't deny a truth. Haven't you ever listened to me? Just because you don't want to know it doesn't mean it's not true!" He was shouting then, and began his annoying habit of pacing in a tight oval when he got truly angry.

"Every single day of your life I have struggled to get you to open your eyes and accept the truth. And every blasted day you've intentionally covered your ears and closed your eyes like a petulant little child!"

"That's not true!" Tenet blurted.

His father stopped in his tracks and turned an incredulous look towards his son. "Isn't it? Shall we stand here and list every way you've put your head in the sand? Let's start with Nada's fall. Utterly her fault."

"It was an accident," Tenet said through clenched teeth.

"Was she supposed to be up on that equipment?"

"No, but..."

"And why had she climbed up there, hm?"

Tenet sighed in frustration. This was an old argument. "She was a child, Father."

"She was a spoiled little brat who wasn't getting enough attention!"

Tenet's stomach turned at the coldness of his father's logic, as it always had.

"And even now, she uses that injury, the injury she caused herself, to get everything she wants. How many times had she been told to stay off it, hm? Would you ever have climbed up there?"

He could not lie to his father. "No," he admitted quietly.

"No. Because you were not supposed to. And yet, you excuse her behavior."

Tenet scoffed. "You hate me because I defend my sister?"

"No. I hate you because your blindness and inability to accept the plain truth in front of you makes you a liability." Tenet brooded silently, and his father switched gears. "How about your mother? How long have you known she dallies with anyone who whips out his dick?" Tenet's face burned with anger and humiliation, and the worst part of it was the fact that he felt his father's words were all too true where his mother was concerned. "Did you once tell me about it, boy? I know you saw. Did you even think to come to me, man to man and tell me the woman I thought I married was gone, replaced with a back alley whore? Hm? No. We played the la-la-I-didn't-see-it game, didn't we? You let her cut me to pieces."

Tenet felt sick. "Stop."

"Jiti Ton. Your best friend. Stood up at the alter. Why?"

Maybalin, his intended, confessed years of pining for Tenet the night before the wedding. He had no idea. He never saw any signs. Even looking back, he couldn't see any. Jiti Ton did, though. He knew. He never spoke to Tenet again, even after he finally made a successful match. "Stop," he begged.

"Why? To let you wallow in your illusions? Perhaps I let you do that too much in your life already." He was silent while Tenet reeled inside. "You have been removed from military service at my request," he said eventually.

Tenet didn't care about that. He hadn't really wanted to be a military man anyway. But he did care for what it meant, what it would mean to the rest of the world. "Why?" he croaked.

"You cannot lead a platoon if you cannot see and accept the plain truths in front of you. I will not put lives in your incapable hands." His voice held no hint of the possibility of reprieve.

"What will you tell people?"

"I will tell them the truth. That you are ineligible to be an officer because of your maternal lineage. I broke too many rules and gave you too many chances already. There will be many people who find themselves relieved at my decision. I had hoped you would grow out of your senselessness and frivolity as you aged, but I was wrong."

Tenet stared, numb. "What will I do now?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you should have thought of that, boy. You've had a life time of warnings. It was your fault. All of this is your fault."

Tenet bolted awake, soaked with sweat, his heart racing. It took him a minute to get his bearings. He was in the cave, not his father's study. He was on the hard ground, not sitting in the uncomfortable office chair next to his father's desk. His father wasn't here. No one was but Scarab.

Tenet shivered and tossed another log on the fire. He sat in front of the half lit fire, staring at the flame that licked the new wood. He hadn't thought about that day since it happened. He hated how right his father was on some levels. Not all the way, of course. He would never regret being Nada's champion to their father, and deep down he knew that it was not his responsibility to keep his parents' marriage working. It was not in him to be a military leader, no matter what the reason his father said. Maybelin's crush was beyond his control, and Jiti Ton's reaction always struck him as unnecessarily harsh, making Tenet the scapegoat when he should have been thanked for the sparing of a loveless union. The cold words were his father's special way of making him feel small and worthless. It was manipulation, and Tenet knew that.

Still, those facts didn't make the memory of his father's words untrue. Cold, impossibly harsh, and manipulative, sure. But not untrue at the core, and that's what really rankled. If the past two months had taught him anything about himself, it was that he really did tend to turn a blind eye. He was trying hard to change that. He was really working on seeing the situation for what it was, not what he wanted it to be, and make the reality in his head match the world around him. He ate meat because he had to. He killed a wraith because he had to. He took in every detail of the betrayals he learned more and more about and accepted them, because he had to.

And yet, his father's voice still haunted him.

It _was_ all his fault. All of. The mess they were in, the peoples' lives that were now in jeopardy. Scarab asked him how it was he just seemed to accept everything that was happening. The truth was, he didn't. He was eating himself up inside trying to make sense of it all.

It was all his fault.

Tenet turned his gaze to the entrance of the cave. His father was out there, coming for him. He would not stop. He wasn't lying when he said that to Scarab. He knew that his whole life, even if he had been spoiled and blind about everything else. When his father had a plan, he saw it through, to hell with the consequences, and means be damned. For whatever reason, it was not enough that Tenet was clearly leaving the realms. A naive hope had driven him to try and think of why someone else may be chasing them. He even tried to convince himself that it was a fluke, that they weren't being hunted, merely followed by another soon-to-be ex-patriot. It wasn't true, but it did help pass the awful afternoon. Was it really so bad to think like that? It certainly got him through an emotionally shitty childhood. And it was getting him through now.

Sick of his inner voices' need to pick apart everything, Tenet rose and went to check on their gear. The early morning light was just starting to filter into the mouth of the cave, and they'd be packing out soon. The majority of the gear was dry. Only one of the blankets was still too wet to pack, and he moved it as close to the fire as he dared. The rest of their clothing was rolled back up and stuck in the proper packs, along with their other dwindling supplies. He sincerely hoped they were close to the border. The only absolute need at the moment was food, and Scarab seemed confident that she could provide. However, the medicines were sadly depleted, and while the seeds hadn't mildewed or dried out too much, Tenet knew that was more from luck of good packaging than anything they could actually control.

His moving around woke Scarab, and they had the rest of the coffee and set off within a half hour. Scarab climbed to the top of their rocky ledge and stared downhill, trying to get a line on those following, but couldn't see anything but forest. She offered to climb a tree again, but they both figured it was pointless. Either they'd make it at this point, or they wouldn't. The terrain didn't really offer them a plan B.

There were only two good things Tenet could find with that morning's climb. First, the rain had stopped. They weren't battling a downpour on top of the terrifyingly sheer hike. And second, the trees stopped.

"It's not a good thing," Scarab said when he pointed it out.

"No pine needles, no scraping bark, we can actually see ten feet in front of us..." He was only arguing to get his mind off the misery.

"Exactly. And if we can see ahead of us, we're visible to whoever it is that's following."

Tenet stopped and propped his leg up on a rock. "I need a drink." He took a swig of his water and turned to look down. He shouldn't have. Vertigo gripped him and he leaned back, holding onto a rock behind him to battle the sudden dizziness. He had no idea how far they had really climbed. He felt like he was going to pitch forward and plummet.

"Damn it, Tenet!" came Scarab's annoyed voice. "Didn't I tell you not to look back?"

"I thought you meant it in a metaphoric way!" He battled to keep his stomach from lurching.

She surprised him by laughing. "Turn around and sit for a minute."

"I'll fall!"

She scooted back down to be next to him and grabbed his arms firmly. "Look at me." When he tore his eyes away from the rocky death that was just one misstep away, she gave a nod. "Good. Now, sit for a minute."

He sat and leaned back against the rocks, glad to have the support of a whole mountain. The jelly feeling in his legs eased and his sense of stability slowly returned. "How much more of this?"

Scarab sat next to him. "We're close. I can see a notch up ahead. We'll make tracks for that instead of going all the way to the summit." She took out her own water and gulped a mighty swig. "I hope the notch has some kind of stream. I'm getting kind of light."

He nodded and swallowed, glad his stomach wasn't rolling anymore. He knew part of the queasiness was the fact that they had no food that day. "How far do you think we are from the Borderlands?"

"Just over that ridge." If her memory was correct. She leaned back against the rocks next to Tenet and closed her eyes, hoping she was right. "The sun's brutal this high up."

"Feels better than being a washrag."

She snorted and was about to say something else when her eyes popped open. The noise of a bot snapped her back to the moment. Her eyes darted around them, looking for the source. "There!" she said out loud, pointing down the mountain.

"What?"

"Bot." She slapped his shoulder. "Get moving!"

Tenet struggled to stand, still a little dazed. "What the hell..."

Scarab grabbed him, turned him facing uphill, and shoved. "Oh no you don't. Keep those eyes up and move."

Tenet leaned forward, clutching the rocks in front of him and started to scramble upward, his fear of the mountain's height paling in comparison to the fear of the bot and hunters behind them. "How far are they?"

"I don't know. I didn't stop to measure," she said wryly, digging in and passing him to find the best path for them both.

After about five minutes, Tenet heard the hum of the bot over his ragged breath and pounding heart. It was closing in. "We can't...outrun it..." he panted, catching himself when his foot twisted on a loose rock.

Scarab wasn't ready to give. "We're almost to the notch."

"And then what?" Tenet barked.

Scarab's eyes scanned the nearing cleft in the mountain, looking for a cave, a bush, anything. But there was nothing she could see. Tenet was right. They couldn't outrun it. "Shit!" she yelled, pounding her fist on the mountain's unforgiving rock face. She told herself to calm down. If it was still the same bot from the other day, and she had no reason to believe otherwise, then it was a recon. Most of them were unarmed. A quick glance around once more confirmed that their best bet was once again a straight up gamble.

Tenet reached her. "Move!"

"No." She pulled her gun out of her belt and motioned for him to do the same.

Tenet blinked in surprise, then threw his hands in the air. "Are you insane? You're going to attack a bot? Here?" He was so flabbergasted he sputtered the words between his heavy breaths, his voice echoing down the mountain.

"It's a recon. It'll probably be unarmed."

The memory of the bot's gleeful destruction of the coonskunks replayed in his mind. The government robots seemed to almost enjoy shooting down whatever they came across in the Southland Summer. He had seen how dangerous they could be, and he didn't want to stake their hides on a guess. "Probably?" he bellowed.

"Would you quiet the hell down? Yes, probably. You want me to lie and tell you I'm positive? Would that make you feel better?" He didn't answer, and she didn't expect him to. "Now either we do the team work thing you're so hell bent on, or you lie prone and out of the way. Choose fast, because I say we have less than a minute before we're in range."

Tenet set his jaw and pulled his weapon.

"Brace your back against the rock or the recoil will send you right back down."

He shot her a bland look as he put his back to the mountain side. "I have been trained, you know."

They watched the bot approaching. Tenet pulled his weapon and sighted the bot in the scope, just as he had through many training exercises at the academy, while Scarab held her gun down to her side, knowing she had better aim in the moment, the rush of adrenaline helping her zero in on her target.

"If it's armed, how close before it shoots?" Tenet whispered.

"Maybe fifty yards."

"Maybe?"

She sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry I don't have the tech specs for every bot on the market." Her voice dripped with sarcasm and tension. "I focus on the bots that affect my life, the ones that hunt and kill."

"Fine then," he said. "We assume fifty yards."

They watched it get close. Scarab was certain it had already seen them. It didn't sweep or pause, just steadily climbed a few yards above the rocks straight for them. She frowned. Though she didn't know a lot about recon bots, she did know that bots in general had a few ways of working. First, they could be on a set route, guided by internal programming. They could also be set to sweep, to make zigzags or circular patterns, and gather data or kill anything in the path. It was possible that whoever had sent the bot out programmed it to go in a straight line. But the odds that they'd know the exact path of Tenet and herself were astronomically slim.

"I think it's a drone," she said quietly.

"What's a drone?"

"A bot that's controlled by someone at the other end in real time."

He tightened his grip on the gun. "So someone's controlling it...with what? Some kind of remote?"

"I think so." She didn't bother explaining her reasoning. There wasn't time. "Hold your fire," she managed to get out before the bot was on them. It got about ten feet away and simply hovered there.

Tenet had lowered his weapon slightly, but stood, braced and ready. The seconds stretched to a full minute of tense inactivity. "What are we waiting for?"

"I want to see what it will do."

"What this bot does depends on what you do, hunter," a voice played through a speaker on the bot.

"Who are you?"

"I don't believe you are in the position to be asking questions."

Scarab snorted. "Are you seriously trying to threaten me?" She made a show of looking around. "I guarantee that by the time you get here we'll be long gone."

"And I guarantee that this bot is fully loaded."

Tenet hoped his face didn't betray the panic rising inside. He tried to take Scarab's lead and stare the bot down, but he was terrified.

"Big man hiding behind a metal ball," Scarab said coldly.

"Hiding? No. Utilizing the most modern equipment available. We can't all be purists like you, Scarab."

She knew the voice, but was having trouble placing it. His use of her name confirmed that she should know who was at the other end. "Brains beat bots, every single time," she said, trying to keep him talking. If she could figure out who she was dealing with, she'd have a much better idea of how to best him.

The cackle sounded eerie coming through the hollow-toned speaker. "Do they, now? I caught you, didn't I?"

"No. Your bot followed me. I don't see _you_ anywhere."

Tenet shot her a sideways look. What the hell was she thinking by goading the man? He wanted to tell her not to piss the guy off, but she refused to look in his direction. In fact, she crossed her arms over her chest and took on an insolent sneer. His stomach dropped and cold dread replaced the frantic panic. So this was it. This was the end.

"We could stand here arguing the merits of tech verses good old fashioned human knowledge, or you could get to the point already and tell me what you want."

"Always direct, aren't we, darlin'?"

She suddenly knew who he was. It was that exact phrase, the tone of voice when he said it that got to her and she had to struggle to keep her jaw from flapping open in shock. "Jace."

"Who else could have found you?"

Tenet frowned at the change in tone.

"You're dead," she said. The report was very clear, the evidence indisputable. He had a run in two summers ago with a band of wraiths. The only thing recovered from his gear was the indestructible number plate from his suit and one sole of a boot, also marked with his ID number.

"Obviously not."

Jace was alive. Her mind reeled and she felt her knees go weak. He was alive.

Tenet couldn't believe what he was seeing and hearing. Scarab was clearly floored by the news of the Jace person being alive. If he didn't know better, he would think they had meant something to each other, something deep. That annoying little voice in his head asked him just how well he knew Scarab after all. "What's going on?" he asked her.

She ignored him. "What happened with the wraiths?"

"Did you really think a couple of angry monkeys would take me out?" He sounded highly offended.

"What was I supposed to think? They found your tags."

"But they didn't find me, did they?"

"Of course not. Wraiths don't leave scraps."

A patronizing chuckle came through the speaker on the side of the bot. "Scarab, think. Would I have gone down like that?"

No. She couldn't believe the news at the time, and even after the IDs were recovered, she had a difficult time accepting it. It wasn't until the months without hearing his voice that she accepted it. "Then where in the hell were you?"

There was a long pause.

"Answer her," Tenet barked.

A laugh came through. "Shut it, bounty, or I end your life here and now and gather my reward."

Jace was hunting them. He was picking up the job she had failed to complete. "You don't talk to me for two years and when you do, it's to bring me in?" Bitter betrayal sliced through her, and his silence was all the confirmation she needed. "Just tell me why."

"Why?" came is disgusted reply. "I thought better of you, Scarab. Really I did. You know damn well why. You dropped the ball, kiddo. You royally screwed this up. And the people you chose to blow off...they aren't the kind to lie down and take it. My bosses hate being crossed."

"I know that," she said icily. "I wanted to know why it was you disappeared." The voice made some start of a reply, but she cut him off. "No need. I've got it figured out. You went mercenary for the govers."

"We're all mercenaries," he snapped.

She gave a snort. "Fine. Assassin."

Tenet gasped. His government would never...would they?

"I see your little buddy's shocked. Doesn't he know what his daddy does?"

"You were good, Jace. Why'd you go that way?" Disappointment tinged her angry words.

"Don't sound so high and mighty, Scarab. I've always told you that high horse will throw you one of these days. Looks like I was even more of a genius than I thought."

"Why?" she demanded again.

"Why not?" he said, all humor gone from the icy voice. "I get a house. It's mine. It's not one I have to break into. I've got food. I never run out. I've got women willing to go to my bed, not slippery, coy little bitches who pant one minute and never..." His words cut off suddenly and Tenet shot a glance in Scarab's direction. Her face was red and her eyes burned with anger, but she held her tongue. "I have a life here Scarab."

"At what cost?"

"A surprisingly little one," he said with a laugh. "I tie up a few loose ends a year and it's easy sailing."

Scarab felt sick. "What the hell happened to you?" she said hoarsely. "You used to have morals and..."

"Oh save the righteous mumbo jumbo for someone who hasn't seen the blood on your hands. Just because my morals are different from yours doesn't mean I don't have any."

Scarab could have argued the differences between them till she was blue in the face, but it would do no good. He wouldn't listen. He never had. "So you'd kill an innocent kid because your boss tells you to. Yeah, that's a strong moral code all right."

"Innocent kid? By whose standards? Because I'm looking, and I gotta say I can't see anything either innocent or remotely child-like. He's a man who has put how many lives in danger? Including yours, I might point out."

"He's got a point," Tenet said quietly. Perhaps he could convince this Jace to take him and leave Scarab. "It's my fault. I'll take the blame."

"Tenet, no," Scarab said quickly.

Tenet ignored her and turned to the bot, trying to get it's attention by waving his hands. "Over here."

"I can see you both," Jace said, flatly. "You don't need to wave around like a moron."

"Take me, let her go."

"Tenet," Scarab hissed in her best warning tone.

"As charming as this act of selflessness is, it's pointless. I've got a work order."

Tenet sighed. "I know my father. It's me he wants. Let her go. She won't bother anyone. She won't come back to haunt him. Hell, you'd be unleashing her on the Borderlands. Who's suffering then?"

Jace laughed loudly. "You've got more backbone than I was lead to believe, kid. And you don't know how tempting it is to let her go terrorize those barbarians."

"Look, I've never heard of you before and I don't know what it is the two of you had together, but you obviously meant something to each other at some point." Tenet hated having to say the words and almost stopped for the wave of jealousy inside. But he could right a wrong here. He had to at least try. "Let her go. I'm asking you, man to man, just let her go. I'll drop my weapons and wait for you. Or let your bot kill me here."

Scarab was trying to get his attention, trying to get him to shut up, but he refused to acknowledge her existence. He was rushing ahead with some foolish plan. While she knew she should be flattered, it was more annoying than anything in that moment. If he would only glance her way, she could motion a plan. But he wouldn't. The idiot kept on with his offers of sacrifice. Fine. Let him be stubborn and keep talking and she'd once again get their asses out of the fire.

"Ugh. Don't tell me you've actually fallen for her," came the sneering voice. "How predictable."

"So she means nothing to you?"

Scarab had been sighting her gun from the side of her thigh, low where it couldn't be noticed. She had one shot to disable the main power supply on the bot and she hoped Tenet would keep talking to give her time. When he asked that, though, she paused to hear Jace's answer.

"Look. I'm a hunter. This is my job. Right now, she is my job. Just like you are hers, no matter what fantasy life you've created for yourself in that fanciful little head."

Scarab's hand tightened on her weapon, Jace's words firming her resolve. He should have just stayed dead.

Tenet scoffed. "And you claim you have morals."

"I don't need a morality debate from a fellow hunter, and I certainly don't need one from some spoiled little rich kid."

"I may be spoiled, but at least I'd never sell out my own."

The hatred in Jace's voice when he answered was almost a visible wave coming from the speaker. "Tell yourself that all you want, but the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You and your ilk are just as bad as me and mine. Worse, because you pretend you care about all those you step on. At least I don't make any pretenses. I'm in this world for one person, me. And I've never, ever said any different."

The bot shattered in front of his face before Tenet even registered the sound of Scarab's gun. The side blew out, shards of metal and plastic tumbling to the ground in front of them while the useless round body bounced and rolled down the rocky mountain side. It all happened so fast that Tenet could barely grasp what was going on.

"No, you never did say any different," Scarab said numbly, watching the bot teeter on a ledge before a small gust of wind blew it over the side. She heard the satisfying crash echo around them. She holstered her gun and turned to continue their climb. "He'll have more. We've got an hour, tops."

Tenet turned and followed her, too stunned to ask the hundreds of questions that swirled through his mind. His hand slipped and his foot had to scramble on the loose gravel to keep him from joining the shattered bot. He pushed the questions aside and focused on climbing. One hand up, pull and steady with the other, repeat. They were close to the notch. Though he had no idea what lay up and over that narrow V in the mountain, he knew that at the very least they'd be out of the line of sight of Jace. He wouldn't risk looking back and down, trying to see if Jace was climbing up after them. It didn't matter. At this point, they would either be safe or not. It was liberating, in a way. At least they know who hunted them and why. Scarab was right, he thought to himself. Knowing was far better than guessing.

They reached the notch in another half hour of muscle-burning, near vertical scaling. The height thinned the air, and as they stood in the shelter of the V and surveyed the land in front of them, it was dizzying to try and get a deep breath. Tenet sat heavily on a large rock.

"We're not...safe yet..." Scarab was doubled over, propping her hands on her knees trying to get her own breathing under control. She was relieved at what they saw over the rise, but couldn't feel the excitement. Not when it was Jace after them, not when he was so close.

They were high up a mountain side that could not have looked any different than what they just climbed. It was hard to believe it was the same mountain. Where the other side was jagged and wind torn, this side was much gentler. Instead of cliffs, there was sandy rock with sloping paths that lead to scrubby trees which faded into a forest at a much higher elevation than the side they had just been on.

"Why's it so different here?"

She shook her head. "I'm not a geologist. How the hell would I know?"

"Because you know everything." He flashed her a wry smile.

She gave a snort. "I wish. Come on. Won't be a picnic, but I think we can reach the scrub pretty quickly."

They reached the scrub brush faster than either thought or even hoped. In fact, the loose gravelly surface of this side of the mountain all but threw them towards it. Within a few steps, they both began to slide, and it was just sheer luck that neither was hurt as they slid, rolled, and scrambled down the embankment. Tenet slammed into a gnarled, twisted little bush with a grunt and a laugh. "Wish we went up that fast."

Scarab had more grace. She slid, mostly standing, and grabbed at the first bush she could reach. She held on with her hand and anchored her foot into the loose rocks. Tenet knew he had flailed down the hillside more than anything, and wondered how in the hell she managed to make it look that easy.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, catching her breath.

"I'm fine," Tenet said, scrambling to gain solid footing. "I've never been on hillside like this."

Scarab had to agree. Even in the burnt dunes of deep Summer, she'd never experienced the type of loose terrain.

"I wonder how these bushes hold on."

Scarab rolled her eyes. If he started on farming again...

She looked down the mountain. While there was still a long way to go to the bottom, they would make it to thicker cover by night. As it was, if she heard a bot, they could simply slide down to deeper cover. Dangerous, but not deadly. She decided to take a minute to really look around, to see what was beyond the mountain. All she could see for miles and miles was unbroken forest. "Shit," she muttered.

"What?"

She shook her head, unsure of exactly what she was expecting. A wall? A town? A welcoming committee? There should be something that would let them know they were close to safety. She honestly believed that the Borderlands lay just over this mountain. Well if they did, the Borderlands govers sure had a good way of disguising it!

Tenet saw her looking out across the land ahead and he did the same. To him, it was more forest. Different kinds of pines, he noticed. Deeper, taller. And he couldn't see a single palm anywhere. It was clear the high mountain range was a great divide in more ways than one. "Where are we going next?"

It was a damn good question. She squinted, looking for some sign of any kind of civilization. When she couldn't detect any, she hoped it was simply because they were too far away and had a bad vantage point. She saw a weaving break in the trees and knew that was a river. "There," she pointed to it. If they couldn't have safety that night, at least they could have water and hopefully get a good meal. "We'll head to that western bend."

"Are we still being followed?"

"He doesn't tend to give up."

"Will he get us?"

She sighed, and Tenet knew he was pushing too far. "I'm doing my best to keep that from happening. We'll head west. He's expecting us to either run or go east."

"Why would he expect us to go east?"

"Fine. He'll expect me to go east."

"Why?"

Years hunting together. Years follow each other's patterns. Season after season of trying to one up the each other. A deep knowledge of one another. Jace would think she was heading east because it was afternoon, the sun would be at her back. The position of the mountain range would shelter them from the winds that she felt blowing up and over if she followed the curve to the right. The eastern side of the river bank would give them the advantage in the morning of having the sun in Jace's eyes if he caught up to them in the night. There were many reasons she would normally choose the eastern path, and many complicated reasons Jace would know this. She didn't take time to explain. "Follow me."

It was as much talking as she was going to do for awhile judging by the tone of voice, and Tenet knew there was nothing to do but move. The brush thickened rather quickly, and with it they found firmer ground. Scarab instructed him to turn his body and step forward and down at the same time, as if he was climbing down stairs sideways. Although it made their descent much shallower, it was easier traveling and soon they were in shrubs that were regular and waist high, with several that jutted much higher into the air. Tenet guessed an hour had passed before they heard the hum of another bot. Without so much as a word, they dropped right where they were, wedging themselves against the gnarled trunks of the scraggly brush.

Scarab made her breath shallow and slow, giving Tenet a look that told him to be silent. He didn't need her warning and he made a mental note to add it to the list of things he intended to say later. He willed his breath to slow down and be as silent as Scarab's.

The bot hummed in a different tone than the other one had. It sounded larger to Scarab. Larger and meaner. There was very little chance Jace would bother with another drone, and she knew she was dreaming if she thought for a second it could be a simple recon. She wished she was in a better position to spy, but any movement at all in the short bushes could give them away. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound. It was above them. She could hear the echo somewhere up the mountain side. For a few painful minutes, the droning buzz got louder. She opened her eyes and watched Tenet. He was staring at her, his look solid and secure. He was certain they were safe. Either that or he was simply resigned. She held his intense gaze and tried to calculate how long it would take for the bot to find them judging by how near it sounded. One minute. Two, maybe.

And then miraculously, gloriously, they bot's whining engines and small propulsion jets sounded slightly quieter. Tenet thought it was wishful thinking until he noticed the surprise in Scarab's eyes. They listened more intently. It was definitely going the wrong way. Soon it could barely be heard. Scarab moved to take a peek. Tenet tensed, but he didn't try and stop her. In a painfully slow motion, she inched her way up through the stubbly scratchy needles of the shrub until she could see over. The bot was definitely a killer. The lasers weren't even disguised. They stuck out from below like two fingers of doom, waiting to fry anything it its path without thought. But most importantly, it was definitely going the other direction. She watched it sweep wide to the east, then stop and pivot. She got ready to plaster herself back to the ground, but wanted to know her enemy. The bot paused for a second before coming back their way. It was sweeping in a zig zag. While that meant it was deadly, it also meant it was stupid, and she couldn't help but feel a moment of triumph. Jace always underestimated people. Always.

Scarab ducked back into the bush with plenty of time to whisper an explanation and plan to Tenet. They'd stay where they were and wait out the bot's return. Once it was past them again, they'd head back up the mountain a little to give themselves a wider berth, then watch how far the bot scanned to the west. They'd continue to make their way west until they were well past the bot's sweep pattern and then head down the mountain.

It was a stressful and tedious plan, but after the fourth time they lay prone, waiting for the bot to clear away, Tenet had given up on the fear aspect. He lay flat looking up at the darkening sky. Night would be on them soon, and he didn't think there'd be any chance of a fire. His stomach rumbled. No fire, and no food. At least they weren't in the rain. Or going uphill anymore. And they had a pretty good system working with the bot and edgewise travel. All in all, it could be worse. His brain just needed to hold onto that one little thought. It could be worse, so that meant that it also _could_ get better.

Scarab tapped Tenet on the shoulder, and he rose back up. "We're well beyond the sweep now," she said quietly. "As long as we move slow and careful, we'll be okay."

Tenet turned and looked at their enemy for the first time. It was larger than the drone Scarab shot down, and more menacing than the bots that combed the scorched farmlands for wraiths had been. "You sure?"

"Yes. On this one, I'm positive. It's in a pattern and will continue in one until it kills us. Or kills two large animals it thinks are us." She saw Tenet's shiver and patted his back. "Come on. Move."

He nodded and turned to follow. "I hope it kills two large animals."

"Me too. I'm starving." She got back to the serious business of their never-ending escape.

They reached the river long after dark by the light of a full moon. They heard it through the forest long before they actually came up on it, and that was a good thing. Unlike the rivers they'd been past so far that lazily floated along, this one raged through a deep gorge carved in the side of the rocky mountain side. They stood looking down into the frothy white beast, made more majestic by the eerie glow of the moon, and Scarab whistled.

"We can't cross it."

"No shit." She rolled her head back, feeling the day's strain in her neck and shoulders. She considered stopping for the night. She looked to Tenet. "Camp here?"

Tenet was too stunned to answer. She actually asked his opinion.

"Or not. Your call."

"I, uh..." he stammered. "What do you think?"

"I'm spent. But if we stop, he'll gain on us. Don't think he's not moving even as his lackey's doing his dirty work. He's too good for that. We aren't safe, not by a long shot." She took off her pack and sat down heavily on top of it. "So by all rights, we should keep our asses moving. I know how tired I am, how hungry I've been all day. And I don't have a bum leg. I can only imagine how bad you're hurting, too. So, like I said, your call."

He was touched. He looked along the river ledge, looking for a way down, or around, or over. In his mind, if they could just get to the other side, they'd have another level of safety. He wasn't the expert, but he had some training and he had been paying attention through the trip, even when it seemed like he was not. He hesitated for only a second before taking off his pack.

"We rest then," Scarab said.

"No." He rummaged in his pack and came out with the medicine kit. Using the light of the full moon, he shuffled through the little baggies until he found the right one. "We don't rest until we find a way across that river. Here. Tuck this into your cheek and swallow when you need to."

"What is it?"

"Just something to give us a little boost." She raised her eyebrow at him. "It's kind of like caffeine." Okay, so he was underselling it a bit. He doubted she'd take it if she knew the full details of the effects, but he knew they both needed something to keep them going. "It'll keep us moving."

"Are you sure your leg can handle it?"

He nodded, then motioned for her to take the herbs. She sighed and stuffed a pinch between her gums and cheek.

"If I have a hangover in the morning, you're toast." Scarab pushed up as he laughed and slung her pack over her back again. She was proud of his decision. She hoped it wouldn't bite them in the end. Sometimes it was far better to rest and push harder later. But if she was on her own, crossing the river before stopping would have been her choice, too. "You want to lead?"

He laughed. "Let's not go overboard with the partner thing."

Scarab couldn't help the grin as she took off into the night. He was so different from what she expected. Still, after two months of hard travel together he surprised her daily. As she made her way through the dark forest by the peaks of moonlight, she couldn't help but compare him to Jace.

Jace was a good hunter. No, he was a great hunter. Several years older than her, he started his career later than most and they were rookies the same first summer season. While hunting was a sink or swim profession from the start, elder hunters often took fledglings under their wings. Hark and Enna gave Scarab a crash course, but Jace was completely self-taught. In the wide spread but oddly tight knit community of hunters, it was great sport to track the successes and failures of their peers, but especially the newcomers. Many outposts tracked jobs, earnings, injuries and deaths on leader boards for all to see. Some even laid odds and made bets. There were thousands earned and lost on the successes and failures of the poor kids who picked a hard life.

After that first season, it became clear that there were three hunters to watch out for. What started out as the elders laughing at the mistakes of the incompetents always turned into hushed planning around the few that would give them a run for future jobs. Scarab, Jace, and a large girl who went by Pearl were all very successful. Of the new batch, they were the ones that the elders would have to either sabotage or step aside and let join their ranks. Jace was fully accepted, while Scarab and Pearl were the subjects of sabotage. Jace always crowed about that, and it took Scarab a few more seasons to understand how foolish he was. They accepted him, not because of his ability, but because he did not present a threat. He never understood that.

He was great. Honestly, one of the best. But he had limitations. First, he only took kill jobs. That never set well with Scarab, though she justified it by telling herself that someone had to take those bounties. Then there was the matter of his refusal to do winters. True respect was given to the hunters who did both, not one or the other. It was a weakness in her mind, his unwillingness to put himself in any discomfort. And then there was his attitude. He was so sure of himself.

Scarab snorted at her own thoughts, but didn't even hear Tenet's questioning about why. She supposed she couldn't fault Jace's attitude. Didn't she walk around full of herself? Ah, but she earned it. Jace spent a lot of his time with the tech. It created a binding challenge between them. He was so certain that technology was the future of hunting. "Why get my fingernails dirty, babe?" he asked her once. "They're such pretty fingernails." He was cocky. And conceited. And something about him sparked her, pushed her, drew her in and repulsed her at the same time. She was not one for relationships. And yet, if there had ever been anyone that came close, it was him. God knew he tried.

It was Pearl's death that first really drew Scarab to see Jace as more than a competitor. Pearl was sabotaged on what should have been an easy job. It was foolish and stupid, and a seasoned hunter would have seen the trap for what it was. Scarab was sorry to see Pearl go, but had a hard time feeling too bad when the girl walked right into a den of wraiths, following an obviously fake path of the alleged bounty. It was textbook, as if the person laying the trap had a check list. Footprints? Check. A bit of clothing that mysteriously didn't burn up as ash? Check. An empty canteen? Check. It boggled her mind whenever she thought of it. Pearl made it a season and a half. That was it.

When Scarab heard of Pearl's death, she passed on a lucrative fugitive bounty to find Jace and accuse him directly of Pearl's murder.

"And why would you care? Aren't you looking at more jobs now?" Scarab had been furious. Beyond furious. She reached her hand back to slap him and he easily caught it, laughing softly. "Are you really mad at me for laying the trap, or her for following? I got paid to do a job, just like you. You know I'm right on this. Why do you have to be so stubborn, hm? We could work together. We could always work together." He had almost whispered that last part, and even thinking about it all these years later made her heart race. She always wondered what would have happened if she had just leaned in a little.

She didn't, though. She pulled back and didn't speak to him for a year. But somehow, their paths began to cross again. And again. And soon she gave up fighting and would drink in the bar with him, listening to him brag about his latest jobs. She never gave anything of herself to him. She couldn't. And she never even hinted at the details of her jobs. She hated that people would brag about the worst moments of other peoples' lives. Perhaps it was because she remembered how it felt to be hated, hunted, beaten, broken. But she would listen to him. She would seek him out when he was in town, and let herself be found when came in from a hunt. And as the years passed, the undercurrent between them grew and grew. If he hadn't died...

Angry reality stopped her thought.

Jace didn't die. He masterminded his own "death" to fade out of the public eye and become a murderous specter for the very government he claimed to hate. And now, now she was the job. She snorted again, feeling the bitterness of the truth. She was always a job. She wondered how many times he'd tried to sabotage her. There was only one other hunter in the world with a perfect record, and that was her. Perfect in summer and winter, for seven seasons each. Nothing he could ever do would change that. Her stomach clenched. No, he couldn't change that. The closest he could come would be to clean up her one and only failure, to succeed where she couldn't.

"Earth to Scarab," Tenet said, impatiently.

"Huh?"

"I said, I think we can cross this log."

She blinked and looked around. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice the terrain at all. She hadn't heard or seen anything. Even standing and trying to pay attention was difficult. Everything had a funny haze to it. The thought shook her, and she spat the herbs out of her mouth and wiped the juice from her chin with the back of a shaking hand.

"You okay?"

She was tired. She was hungry. That was all. She wasn't weak, she still had her edge. She wasn't letting Jace mess with her anymore. She was done thinking about him forever. Angry at herself, she gave Tenet a nod and pushed past him to survey they log. It spanned the river and in the moonlight she could see that it had been there for quite some time. There was moss on it where the spray from the river below watered the slippery growth.

"I don't know, Tenet. It looks sketchy at best."

Tenet was feeling good. His spirits were high, his energy was great. In fact, under the full moon, it was an incredible night. How far had they come? How much did they overcome? He felt taller, prouder, more capable. Half his brain knew it was the herb he was chewing, the other half didn't care. For the first time in weeks, he felt great. "Aw now, where's your sense of adventure?" He was grinning at her like a fool.

It was the herbs. Something in Scarab knew that. Either that or Tenet had gone past the point of exhaustion right on to mania. Whatever the cause, his buoyancy was contagious and her own pensive mood shifted to match his. "Well let's go then!" she said with a new bounce in her step.

"I shall lead the way for madam," he said with a bow, then climbed up unsteadily on the log and held his hands out until he was balanced. He giggled and took a step.

"Crawl!" she said, laughing at his comical expression. Her little warning voice was screaming inside her head and she found she didn't really care. "What was the name of that herb?"

"Mother called it widow weed," he called, inching along the log on his hands and knees.

"That's an unexpectedly depressing name."

"I know. But if you use it every day you'll get addicted and die a horribly painful death." His voice was cheery while he spoke.

When he was about halfway across, Scarab scurried up behind him. "Let's call it giggle weed."

Tenet laughed at this unexpectedly playful side of Scarab he'd never seen. The distraction caused his hand to slip on moss. The sober side of his brain tried to take over, but he pushed back that fear. Fear was no fun. Laughing was fun. Playing in the woods was fun. They would laugh and play in the woods.

"Hey. Keep moving." Scarab almost ran into him.

"I can't go that fast," Tenet pointed out, trying to turn to look at her. "You're much better at this."

"I know."

"Modest, too."

"Always."

Tenet inched forward through the slick moss until a loud crack rang through the night from underneath them. "I think it's shooting us!"

Scarab laughed loudly. "You idiot. It's not shooting us. It's just so old it's splitting in half!" She didn't sound concerned. She should sound concerned. She knew that, but couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Well shit. That would be bad."

"A little."

"Then it's full steam ahead!" he bellowed, snorting like a bull. "Here I go!" He reared up like a charging horse and scampered to the other side.

Scarab laughed hysterically as she charged after him. Her foot slipped through the bark of a rotten patch when she was almost at the other side and her laugh turned to a deep frown. "Aw hell," she said, trying to tug her foot free. "I'm stuck."

Tenet was on firm ground once again and took his pack off. "Then the valiant knight will save the fair maiden!" He posed in what he figured was a noble stance, then bent down and reached out a hand for her.

"Where do you come up with this stuff?" she asked, grabbing for him and missing.

"Mother's old fairy tales."

The log cracked again. Something in Tenet's brain broke through and he stopped playing and grabbed Scarab's hand. With a mighty tug, he pulled her to him even as the rotten section of log broke loose. He held her as they both watched the log slowly crumble into the raging rapids below. They stood stunned, long after the chunks had been washed away.

Eventually reality sank in and Scarab turned to look up at Tenet. "Holy shit."

He was just as dazed. "Are you okay?" She nodded. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" She shook her head. Everything was still so fuzzy.

Tenet was looking at her intensely, his arms still tight around her as if he was still afraid she'd fall. "Who's Jace?" he whispered.

She didn't want to answer. She wanted him to let her go, to get his pack, and to find a place to camp for the night. She wanted to go to sleep and let the drug wear off before it made her do anything else stupid. "He's another hunter," she said anyway.

"I meant, who is he to you?"

She didn't want to answer, damn it! And yet, she did. Her traitorous mouth would not stop speaking. "I don't know. I honestly don't know. I thought he was...well...at least a friend."

"Nothing more?"

God Tenet was intense. Intense and tall and warm and...when had his arms gotten so strong? She needed to stop talking. She needed to step away. She did neither. "No. Never. In case you hadn't noticed, I...I'm not so good at personal relationships."

He smiled, that lazy half smile of his and her heart quickened. "I hadn't noticed," he said in a teasing tone.

"You'd never hunt me, would you?" her babbling mouth asked before she could stop herself.

"No," Tenet said firmly. "You know I wouldn't." He was giving her that look again, the one she saw in his eyes at the river the other day.

"I know why you keep looking at me like that," she blurted. Stop talking, she shouted at herself. Stop it right now!

His eyes crinkled with his smile. "I'm sure you do."

"It's...it's just your damn widow weed."

"No, it's not," he whispered, lowering his head. Before she knew it, his lips had found hers and she couldn't muster up enough fear to stop it. He was warm and soft and so very tender that within a few moments, she couldn't remember why she would ever want it to stop. Before the fear could bubble up again, she pressed her hands to his chest and slid them up and around his neck. If it was the drug, so be it. It was the first wonderful feeling she'd had in years and even if she regretted it later, she would enjoy it while it lasted.

Tenet was sure his heart stopped beating when he felt her pull him closer, felt her respond. He wanted this so badly. It didn't matter that it was the drug that finally lowered her defenses a little. She was kissing him back with all the passion he felt bottled up inside, and no amount of widow weed would do that if the feelings weren't there to begin with. If all they ever shared was this one kiss, so be it. At least he knew that she held just as much inside her as he did. He was the one to pull away first, and he gave a small chuckle when she stood on tiptoes to follow his mouth and try for another kiss.

Scarab knew she would be embarrassed later. She didn't care. One more time, she tried to throw herself into his arms. She didn't want sex. Just a kiss. She'd never had one before, never knew how good it felt. One more, and they'd stop. One more and she'd be content. He kissed her until she was breathless, and still she wanted more.

Tenet pulled himself away before it was too late, before he took it too far. He'd had widow weed before. He knew it could relax inhibitions too much, and he didn't want her to ever look back and be sorry. He was sure she'd come to him completely when she was ready, and he was willing to wait however long it took for that to happen of her choosing, in her time, without the weed making her act out. He gently tugged her hands from around his neck and kissed the knuckles.

Scarab watched his lips leave her finger tips and then looked up at his dazed and goofy face. Her head began to swim with the headiness of the emotions fighting inside. Tenet leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead that was nearly her undoing. All of a sudden, everything swamped her at once, and for the first time since she lost her sister, she felt real tears sting the backs of her eyes, the dam threatening to burst.

Tenet saw the war of emotions playing across her normally stoic face. He could feel the tension in her hands, the slight tremble. Whatever was happening in her head was bigger than him, bigger than their shared kisses. He released her hand long enough to get his pack, then took it once again in his.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, afraid she was breaking. There was a lump in her throat, years of screaming that pushed and wanted to break free. She tugged at her hand, but he held it firm and lead her away from the bank of the river.

The moon was low in the sky. Soon it would be full dark and their progress would have to stop. Tenet walked quickly, knowing they were about at the ends of their high and approaching what would no doubt be a crippling crash. He scanned what he could see of the forest around them, looking for any kind of protection and pulled a stumbling Scarab behind him. Finally he came upon a fallen tree. It was enormous, larger than any he'd ever seen, and the roots were thrust towards the sky way above his head. They created a lean-to. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. Scarab was shaking and making small, painful little gasps. He pulled her to him and took off her pack.

"It's the widow weed. You just need to sleep," he said quietly as he unrolled a blanket and wrapped it around them. He held her and gently eased them to the forest floor under the roots of the ancient tree. Tenet tucked Scarab very close to him and in a few minutes, her sad little gasps stopped and her breathing calmed. He felt her take a deep, shaky breath.

"I don't like this," she whispered.

"What?"

"Feeling," she mumbled against his chest.

He stroked her hair with one hand and held her close to him with the other. "You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to." Laughter rumbled through him under her cheek. "I don't," she insisted. "And I won't. Tomorrow I won't take your widow weed."

"Good, because I wouldn't give it to you tomorrow even if you wanted it."

She snorted. "I could make you."

He laughed again. "I'm sure you could. But since you don't want it, it's not an issue." He lay and stroked her hair. After a few minutes, she became quiet and still and he knew she was falling asleep. His own body wanted the same, but his mind was still wide awake. Damn widow weed. It had been a couple years since he sneaked some from his mother's medicinal case and took it with his buddies behind the fields. He forgot just how much it hyped him up. His friends usually faded quickly, like Scarab, and he'd be left to lie awake and alone to stare into the stars. He never had someone to hold during it, though. That was new and, if he was honest, amazing.

And she vowed to go back to how they were in the morning.

His hold tightened, as if he could will her to remain in this moment with him forever. He saved her. No matter what else, he saved her. Was that really him? A hero? Sure, he made the problems in the first place. But he saved her. He grabbed her and pulled her to him and held her like she belonged there.

Damn it, she did belong there. Right there, in his arms, with him. His head spun with the feeling. He'd never had that before. He'd never felt a tenth of the fullness and calm he felt at that moment, and he knew the widow weed had little to do with it. Sure, it made it easier to think about, made the emotions clearer and gave definition to the vagueness. But they had to be inside in the first place.

Jace said he was just Scarab's job. No. Not even his drugged dizzy brain could accept that. He stopped being a job a long time ago and everyone but Scarab knew that. Hell, she knew it, too. She just hated to admit it. There had been pain in her eyes when Jace called her a job. No matter what she said about being confused about their relationship, in her heart there was something shared with Jace, and the heightened emotions through the widows weed made the jealousy clench his stomach.

The man was a moron. After long minutes of reflection, that was the only conclusion Tenet could reach. Jace was an absolute moron to turn on Scarab. Yes, she was brash. Yes, she was stubborn. Yes she was infuriating to the point of distraction. But as he held her and finally started to drift to sleep, he knew she was worth it. Anyone should think she was worth it. Jace was a moron, and Tenet gave up fearing him right then and there. He kissed her head one more time, hopefully not for the last, and finally let his brain wind down to give his body some much needed sleep.

Chapter 6

"Get up! Get up! Get up!"

Voices boomed, lights flashed, and Tenet was on his feet and running before he was even fully awake, the sudden intrusion speaking directly to his instincts. He felt the ground under his feet, heard the deafening swoosh of blood rushing through his head, groped in front of him to push branches out of his face a second too late.

What in the hell was going on?

Jace must have found them.

Scarab!

Fully awake and in better control of his senses, Tenet made himself stop to go back for her. Before he could do so much as turn around, a great weight thumped his back and drove him face first into the ground.

"I suggest you do as you're tole and this'll go a whole bunch easier for ya," said a deep, unfamiliar voice.

Tenet thought of struggling for a fraction of a second but knew he was caught. He let himself go slack and tried to pull in deep breaths. He had to get calm. He choked as he sucked in some dirt, and allowed strong hands to pull his bound hands and help him up.

"Hey, calm down now." There was a thump on the back, then the hand pushed him forward. "Here, now freshie. Lean over and catch your breath. I didn't wanna tackle you, but ya shouldn'tna run. Jeez. Deep breath. There ya go."

Tenet drew a deep breath and hacked loudly a few times before spitting out the mud. He wiped his chin on his shoulder and turned to look at his captor. The man was enormous. Tenet was by no means short. In fact, in the academy, he stood a few inches above most of the others his age. This man had an easy foot of height over him. Even in the dark Tenet could see strong features he was sure were made of iron itself. He blinked a couple of times, trying to decide what his next move should be. "Where's my wife?" he croaked, throat raw from the after effects of the widow weed heightened by the dirt he just swallowed.

"Don't know. You bolted like a jackrabbit and ifn'a weren't for me I bet you'd be halfway ta home by now!" The man was huge, but his voice was warm and kind. Tenet knew right then this man did not want him dead. He had no coldness about him. Caught? Yes. But not dead. He didn't work for Jace. Of that, Tenet was certain.

"I want my wife."

The big man wrapped his hand loosely around Tenet's upper arm and began to guide him back to the fallen tree. "Relax, freshie. If she does what tole, she'll be unharmed." Tenet couldn't help but snort and the big man laughed loudly. "You got you one a them feisty ones too, eh? Might could mellow with years, ya know."

Tenet could see bright lights flooding the forest. As they neared, he saw about a dozen new faces. He scanned frantically for Scarab and felt a flood of relief when he saw her standing peacefully between another man and a woman. As they got closer to the light, he could see that all of them wore uniforms.

"Archie are you hurt?" Scarab called.

It took Tenet a second to remember that was him and he cringed inside. Why the hell had he let that weasel choose Archibald for his new name? "I'm okay, Angel. You?"

"I'm unhurt."

The big man lead Tenet right to her and he leaned in under the guise of kissing her. "Borderlands?" he whispered quickly. She gave him a quick peck and nod. He couldn't help the relief and put his forehead to hers. They made it.

The big man laughed and tugged him back. "Must'na been wed long if ya still feelin' kissy lovey, eh?"

"No, not long. A few months."

"Sir, I can't find any papers."

Tenet turned at the prim, clipped tone. A woman had everything from their packs laid out. He was about to protest but Scarab caught his eye just in time and shook her head.

A third person came around and stood in front of Tenet and Scarab. "No papers. Little food. You both look like you've been steeped in manure and driven through the thresher." The man had none of the friendliness or warm accent of the big man holding Tenet's arm. He was clearly the leader of this patrol. He stroked a neatly trimmed beard. "You're too close to be going, so looks like you're coming, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Scarab rushed to say.

The man turned his attention to her. "Name?"

"Angel Lorne."

"Where are you heading?"

"I don't know, sir," she said honestly. Tenet was surprised with the submissive tone of her voice. She seemed to know what she was doing, though, because the man in charge relaxed his posture and his face took on a friendlier demeanor.

"You sound absolutely spent, young lady."

"We were being chased for days," Scarab said, sounding even more spent than before.

The man gave a nod. "Yes. Unfortunately the outskirts have too much outlaw activity."

Scarab had submitted immediately when woken by the soldiers. She recognized the patrol instantly and knew they were safe if they played their cards right. Though it only took a few minutes to get Tenet back to their makeshift camp, it had given her enough time to decide how to play this, how much truth they'd need to admit to the soldiers to make their story convincing without giving away too much away. She decided she didn't need the deaths of these men and women on her conscience, so they had to know they were up against an experienced assassin. "It wasn't an outlaw. We're being hunted by a hunter sent by my family."

The man frowned. "A hunter?"

"Bounty hunter."

He rubbed his beard furiously. "They aren't allowed here. Surely you're mistaken."

"My family was against our union." She shot Tenet a glance she hoped conveyed that he should back her up completely. "And...they are..." she swallowed hard, as if it was painful to talk about.

"It's okay, baby," Tenet said. He caught her look and planned to play it up to the fullest.

"They're very cruel," she finished quietly.

"I...see," said the man in charge. "And they'd truly send a hunter after you?"

She nodded. "I'm the only daughter, and Archie couldn't..."

"I couldn't afford the dowry." Tenet hung his head as if he were truly ashamed of the circumstances.

"It be a love story, boss man," said the big man holding Tenet. He let go and gave Tenet a sympathetic squeeze on the shoulder. "It be fine, freshie. Just fine. We like our love stories up'n here."

"Can the sap, Fratz," said the woman near the packs. She walked over and put her hands on her hips. "Don't tell me you believe this pile of shit, Cap."

The man in charge stroked his beard another second before he gave a nod. "I actually think I do."

The woman threw her hands in the air. "Lovesick idiots."

"You are certainly not what we expected to find here, kids," he said to Tenet and Scarab. He motioned for Fratz to cut them both loose.

Tenet rubbed his wrists then took Scarab's hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. She hesitated only a second before twining her fingers with his, and he felt a relief wash over him.

"Gina, get them some water." The woman shot Cap a glare, but she got a canteen and handed it to Tenet. He passed it to Scarab first and the woman, Gina, rolled her eyes. No fan of love or people by the looks.

As they drank, the man in charge continued. "Are you certain that it was one of your kind up here?"

Scarab choked on her water. "Our kind?" Tenet asked, holding his breath.

"Southies."

"Yes, sir," said Tenet, relieved. He took a drink of water.

"He's been following us for days," said Scarab. "He's got tech, too. One recon drone we shot down, and at least one sweeper that came damn close to beating us before we crossed that river."

The man let out a low whistle. "Well now. Guess your daddy wasn't kidding about getting you back!"

Scarab shot Tenet a look and a nod, and he gave a little shrug back. They were buying the story. Tenet couldn't believe they finally had a little luck on this trip.

"Fratz, Gina, load 'em up. The rest fall in for new assignments."

Fratz gently nudged Tenet. "On up'na way, Mr. Archie. We got a transport over that bump."

"Where are you taking us?"

"It's okay... _honey_." Scarab was warning him. He knew it, but thrilled at her use of the term of endearment anyway.

"I was just asking the nice man where we were heading, sweetie." Tenet bit the inside of his cheek when he saw her stiffen. She turned and stalked ahead, with Gina hot on her heels.

Fratz laughed and thumped Tenet's shoulder again. "Just like mine, I tell ya. One minute all honey and wine and the next gettin'ta scrappin'." Tenet couldn't argue. That's exactly how it was.

They climbed over the slight hill and as soon as they crested they could see some sort of large vehicle at the bottom, lights on and motor humming. Before they reached it, another came from the other direction and rumbled right past them. Gina opened the door and ordered them to get in and strap down.

"I'm going to see if Cap needs me to hang back," Gina said to Fratz. She didn't wait for either permission or a reply, just took off in a trot after the other transport. Tenet was not sorry to see her go.

"Well she's a ball of sunshine," Scarab muttered, struggling to get herself strapped in.

Fratz rolled with laughter as he deftly snapped up her harness. "She means well. She just get to be cactusy every now an again." He helped Tenet with his straps.

"Where are you taking us?"

"Headquarters. On about twelve ticks that way."

Tenet assumed a click was a mile. "We got close then."

Fratz sat across from them and held on to a handle hanging from the ceiling of the large transport unit. "I say you made it. In just time, by the looks of you."

"Your accent is different from the others," Scarab said. He was friendly and talkative. Time to gather as much intel as she could.

"I'm a Midlander." At their confused looks, he gave another deep, easy laugh. "None of you from Southie know anythin'! Midlands. Right in the smack center. We get the best of it all. Height of'na north tribes, charm of'na south." He flashed a broad grin and Tenet didn't doubt the charm. "All with the beauty of being too far in for people to screw over."

"Sounds great. Why are you here, then?" Tenet asked. Scarab knew he wasn't intentionally trying to set the big soldier at ease, to sway him to their side and gain his confidence. It was just something Tenet did naturally and she could have hugged him for it.

Fratz shrugged. "Me, now I like adventures. I adventured down this way and met my Phyllis, and now I adventure every day so'n I don't gotta listen to her cluck!" He giggled and Tenet laughed along with him.

Scarab rolled her eyes. Time to get back to business before the men made even bigger asses of themselves. "Where are you taking us?"

"Like I say, headquarters. Town of Carlton. You've got'na see the boss lady. She gets the say so on who can stay and no."

"And who's this boss lady? Another Phyllis?" Tenet winked and the big man returned it with a conspiratorial nod.

"Pretty much, freshie."

"What happens if she doesn't let us in?" Scarab asked.

Fratz shook his head and shrugged. "Dunno. Cap could say."

Scarab bit her lip, a sudden rush of old fear settling in. As Tenet chatted with Fratz, she turned to look out the window into the dark and try to ignore the little girl's panic inside. Until that moment, she'd been too relieved it wasn't Jace that found them. Now, sitting in a government transport surrounded by soldiers, it was too close for comfort. It was too familiar. She bit her lip until it bled, trying to make herself calm.

Things were different. She knew this. It wasn't like before. It was a different government. Besides, she was no longer a child. She could handle whatever they did. She could do this. She had no choice.

Cap returned, barked and order to move out, and sat next to Fratz across from Tenet and Scarab. He studied the tired young couple in front of him. They had a rough journey, that much was clear. He didn't doubt they were being hunted. A quick survey of the area showed no signs of the ex-Cons he and his team had been chasing. Besides, some sort of tech had caused the signal they picked up, and since neither of the Lornes had anything on or around them, it was probably a safe bet whoever was hunting them did. He sent his troop out to scan the area. It was against about five different treaties between the governments for a hunter to pursue a bounty this far inland, and a live capture of a southern bounty hunter caught breaking those treaties would be an incredible boon to his career. It would certainly earn a promotion. He was too old to run up that mountain. He'd leave the younger ones to that and hand these two obviously important people over to the major personally.

Cap didn't doubt they were more important than they let on. The ones from the other lands always thought they were so much smarter than Borderlanders. He'd given up being offended a long time ago and now viewed it with keen amusement. He didn't know who they were, but it certainly wasn't a young couple who ran off to elope. Even with the screwed up way they did things down south, that story was far-fetched. That wouldn't be enough to bring a hunter this far north.

The kids had eluded a hunter, one with some pretty heavy tech at that. A drone and a sweeper? A couple of kids in love rushing off to have a fairy story life wouldn't have lasted this long. Hell, a couple of kids from the farmlands should never even heard of a sweeper. There was far more to this story than he could even guess, and he wished he could talk the major into letting him sit in on her interrogation. It wouldn't happen. In all eleven years of his border service, he'd never been able to crack into that level of trust with her. No one had. It's what made her the most hated officer on the base. It also made her the most respected.

"I'm taking you to Carlton."

"I tole 'em," said Fratz.

Cap nodded. "It's our base of operations in this sector. You'll meet with Major Krupkie. She makes every decision at the base. She'll determine where you go from here. I suggest you be honest with her. She's got a reputation for smelling a lie a mile away and the good lord help those who get caught out." He gave Tenet a knowing look. When the man squirmed a little, he knew he was right about not getting the whole story.

"Don't be messin' with the boss lady," Kratz confirmed. "She'll eat you for breakfast."

"Our packs!" Scarab said suddenly, finally turning from the window."

Cap held up his hand. "Don't worry, everything was unharmed. I've loaded them in the back. They'll be searched and tested. If they come up clean, you'll get it all back."

Tenet frowned. "Clean?"

"Yes. No contraband, no diseases in the seeds. The clothing is in horrible shape with the good lord only knows what. They might simply burn it."

"But that's all we have!"

He shrugged. "Infection and disease are more important. We can't risk another epidemic. If it's just mud, they'll probably be washed. But if anything contagious is detected, it'll go into the furnace. It's the way it's got to be. You want to risk lives on a few shirts?"

Tenet shook his head. He knew about epidemics. They had their share of mass illnesses in his own lands, but he'd never considered that aspect of their journey. He worried about the seeds. They had their own customs checks between their own provinces. He didn't know why he never stopped to think that they'd do the same in the Borderlands, that they'd test them for purity or potential contagion. It was another thing he had glossed over in his mind, and a real big one. There was nothing to do but hope the seeds passed muster. They were ruined before they even began their new life if those seeds weren't acceptable.

"Your medical kit has been confiscated pending approval."

Tenet had expected that. "It's all legal herbal remedies."

"Where you're from, sure. And clearly there's only enough for personal use."

"Versus what?"

"Drug running." At Tenet's confused look, Cap sighed. It really was tragic how little the freshies knew about life. "Illegal trade between border towns. You bring a bunch of drugs up our way, we give you something you want, our people get hooked on herbs they can't get and we've got a ton of fried addicts to deal with."

"I didn't know that was a problem."

Cap shrugged. "Not so much now the Cons aren't in charge. More than we'd like, still. That's our main job, stopping the runs, especially this time of year. It's what we figured you were up to." He gave a small laugh. "Shit, I think Gina had her heart broken when she realized you were just runaways. She's a little, ah...over eager."

Drug running. Tenet let out a deep sigh. The herb growers had to be in on it. The medicinal crops were strictly government owned, run, and managed. Large amounts could not be bought and sold without their knowledge. If anyone was getting the people of the Borderlands hooked and fried on the drugs, it was his government itself. No. Not his government anymore, he reminded himself.

"We're almost there," Cap said, breaking into Tenet's thoughts. "When we get to the base, Fratz here will take you to the guest barracks and you'll get cleaned up and have a meal before you see the major."

"It's soldier grub, but it's not so bad." Fratz gave a friendly smile.

"Anything," Tenet said. "We haven't eaten since..." his mind blanked. When was the last time they ate? Yesterday? The day before? The very thought of food made his stomach growl.

Scarab watched out the window. Early morning light was just beginning to spread across the sky. They drove straight to the west, then turned left onto a road and headed back south, curving around a finger of the mountain. Another few minutes brought them closer to a town, its lights glowing in the early dawn. Tucked into the mountain itself, it was completely invisible from the southern border unless you happened down the mountain side directly behind it. It was a strategically brilliant place for a soldier base, Scarab had to admit.

They pulled up and stopped at a large gate. The driver of the transport said something on a communicator, and a voice told them to move ahead. The gate opened and they drove through. Everything was very well lit by street lights, and Scarab was grateful for her instincts kicking in, pushing aside fear to take in every detail. If they needed to escape, she needed plans. It didn't matter that the town was surrounded by barbed wire. It didn't matter that even in the early hours of the morning, soldiers walked around thick and deep. It didn't matter than an actual escape was impossible. Her mind had been searching for a focus, and here it was. The transport slid slowly up the streets and she took in every detail.

Cap watched Scarab's face change. She had been demur when they caught her, scared when he reached the transport. Not anymore. Now she was...planning. Her face reminded him keenly of Gina when she was onto something and his curiosity deepened. When they arrived at the barracks, he jumped out and warned Fratz to keep a close eye on her before he went to wake up the major.

Fratz led the two inside, then woke the guest barracks foreman who had fallen asleep on the front desk. "Up, soldier! No sleepin' on the job. We got ourselves company."

The man started awake, then hurried around doing everything Fratz barked out. It seemed Fratz's orders carried weight, whether it was from rank or sheer size, and Scarab filed that information away as well. They had a powerful friend. He may be needed.

Tenet and Scarab were led to showers. Tenet almost cried as hot water washed over him. It had been months since his last real shower, since his last thorough scrubbing of any kind. He watched in amazement as the dirt oozed off him in the cascading rivulets of water. He scrubbed and rinsed and scrubbed and rinsed until the water ran with clean suds and his skin felt raw and new. He stepped out and toweled off, then took the new clothes he was given, simple soldier clothing, and used the comb and toothbrush provided. As he stared in the mirror long after he was finished, he didn't recognize himself. He had lost weight. That was fine. He was always slightly softer than he wanted. His beard was already growing back in and he decided not to shave it. All of the soldiers he'd seen wore beards. Even Gina had an alarming amount of whiskers, though he'd never say that out loud to anyone. Beards seemed to be the norm, and he was sorry he shaved his off last week.

Was it a week? Or was it yesterday? He was so damn tired he couldn't remember. Everything was blurred. He sighed. His skin was browned by the sun, his brown hair very much lightened. His mother would be beside herself, but he didn't think it looked bad. For the first time in his life, he liked what he saw.

Tenet stepped out into the hallway and Fratz was standing with Scarab waiting for him.

"About time," she muttered, trying to sound annoyed but too glad nothing happened to him to really pull it off. She couldn't help it. Her past left a deep mistrust of anyone in a uniform on this side of the border. She'd rushed through her own washing and as the minutes ticked by waiting for Tenet, she started to wonder if they'd done something to him. Separated the two to get him alone and... She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. He was fine. "I'm starving."

Fratz led them down the hall to the small guest mess. On the table sat an assortment of cold foods. Most of them were familiar. There were boiled potatoes and carrots, some sort of bread, and some sliced chicken. There was an unusual looking green vegetable in one bowl, and some dark, red meat on a platter. Tenet really didn't care what the food was. He was starving and waved off Fratz's apologies for not having a hot meal for them.

"Cookie won't wake this early," the big man said.

Tenet and Scarab were already sitting and helping themselves. "Honestly, this is a feast." Tenet gave the man a smile, then dove into the food. Even cold, it tasted amazing. "What are these?" he asked of the mysterious green vegetables.

"Sprouts," Fratz said with a sneer.

They were small and round, and if Fratz's expression was to be believed, terrible tasting. Tenet was brave and picked one up. When he bit into it, he was pleasantly surprised. It was slightly bitter, but had layers like a lettuce or a small cabbage. "I've never had these."

"They need the colder air to grow. You like 'em?"

Tenet took another and nodded. "Yes, very much."

Fratz gave a snort. "Good! Eat 'em up and save us havin' to!"

Tenet offered Scarab one. "Pass." She went right for the meat. Fratz raised an eyebrow, but held back his comments. She dove into the venison like a pro. Definitely someone used to eating meat, while the man was not. Interesting.

When they were completely full and ready to burst, Fratz lead them back out to the main room to sit and wait. "Cap'll get ya soon," he said. He had to go check in to his own barracks, then see his wife. He apologized for having to leave, assured them they'd do just fine, and headed out. Tenet suddenly felt the apprehension creep back in with his departure.

"I hope we get to see him again," Tenet said to Scarab. She only nodded. It was then that Tenet noticed her eyes. He knew that look. She was assessing, taking stock. She was in hunter mode. It put him edge. Why did she feel like they were in danger? Had he missed something?

"When we go to see the major, let me do the talking," she whispered, barely moving her mouth.

"What?" He leaned closer.

"Let me talk to the major," she said, just as quietly but with careful distinction to her words. She was sure they were being monitored. She knew they were being watched, so it just made sense that the soldiers would be listening as well.

"Why are we whispering?"

Scarab sighed. Great. Well that blew that one. "Just let me do the talking," she said quickly, then shifted away from him, hoping that would keep him quiet.

Tenet was confused by her actions, but the look on her face made him merely lift an eyebrow in question. She turned her head and his worry increased. He wished he could talk to her, but she made it clear with every ounce of her bearing that was out of the question. He sat back and began to tap his fingers nervously on the arm of the chair.

Fortunately they didn't have long to wait. Cap came to get them and lead them outside, where two armed guards were waiting. They fell in line behind the trio and they all silently made their way down a street to another imposing building. Cap lead them inside and up a flight of stairs. He paused at a large door. "I meant what I said earlier, kids. Don't try and bullshit her. She's in a foul enough mood at being woken up early."

"Thanks for the warning," Tenet said. Scarab just gave a nod.

Cap sighed. They weren't going to take his advice. He was sure of it. Well, he wished them luck and hoped a little cleaning up and food would make them believe their own story enough to sell it. "Go in and sit. You'll be called one by one."

Scarab's eyes narrowed. "We won't be interviewed together?"

"You'll be interrogated separately." Cap hoped they understood the difference. He gave them a little push towards the door and then they were alone in some sort of small office. An empty desk and a few chairs sat in there, and there was murmuring coming from another room behind the desk.

Scarab knew the odds of this room being bugged were small, being the boss's office, and took advantage of their brief moment of privacy. "Stick with the story. Don't break from it," she whispered in a rush. "Go off on a seed tangent if you have to convince her. I'm working on a plan if we need to cut out quick."

"Are you out of your mind?" he hissed back. "Cut out to where? With five hundred guns at our backs?"

"Then sell it!" she said back. "Sell it and hopefully we won't need plan B, okay?" She shot a quick look at the door. "Shit. I wish we were going in together."

"I know what to say."

"Yeah, but what if we say something different? What's my favorite color?"

"Green," he said quickly. All of the clothes she bought were in shades of green. Her hair brush had a green handle. Anything that she had a choice on was green. Of course he knew that much about her.

That shocked her. It was green. She shook her head. "Okay, but there are a million other things you don't know..."

The door opened and they jumped apart as a very disgruntled looking man barked for Angel Lorne to follow him. Tenet gave her hand a hopeful squeeze, but he saw the dread in her eyes before she turned to follow. In a moment, the man came back out and flopped in the chair behind the desk.

"Sit down, Mr. Lorne. It's too early and your pacing's going to drive me nuts."

Tenet sat quickly and didn't realize he was tapping his foot until the secretary glared at him. He stopped but couldn't help biting his nails, his nervousness needing an outlet. From inside the office he could hear the faint murmur of two female voices, but no distinct words could be picked out of the noise. After a few minutes of excruciating waiting, the beep of something down the hall made him jump.

"A little jumpy, are we? It's just the coffee pot. Relax. You want a cup?"

Tenet nodded. "Yes, thanks."

The secretary left and Tenet wondered if he had enough time to listen at the door. He weighed the options and decided it was worth getting caught. He stood and took a step when the door suddenly opened and Scarab came out. She looked grim, but not hopeless. She gave him a small nod. "Your turn."

He couldn't tell much from her clipped tone, but surely it was a good sign that she was sent out so quickly. She walked toward the chair he was just sitting in and as she passed, she gave his arm a little pat. It was a small sign, but one he couldn't miss and he felt relief and a new strength.

He tapped on the door.

"Enter!"

He quickly went in. An older female soldier was sitting at a large desk in the sparse room. She was clearly a woman of business with no time for frivolity. There wasn't even a picture on the bare walls. Everything in the room was stark and cold, and as he closed the door he swallowed hard.

"Sit." She snapped her fingers, suddenly reminding him of his mother when she was in a snit, and he all but jumped to comply. "I am Major Constance Krupkie, commander of the Carlton base of the United Borderlands Armed Forces."

"Nice to meet..."

"And you are?" Her clipped tone cut him completely off. This was not a social event and he had to keep that in mind.
"Archibald Lorne," he said.

"Hm." He could not decipher the look on her face. Her hands were folded on the desk in front of her and her back was ramrod straight. Her eyes reminded him of Scarab, and he squirmed under her icy calculations. The seconds ticked out from the clock behind her and echoed in the room. "And you farmed tomatoes, I understand?" she said at length.

"Yes, ma'am."

"What variety?"

"Roma, mostly."

Her eyebrow went up slightly. "That is not a popular variety."

He felt his mouth twitch and tried to keep himself from smirking as Scarab's advice to give another farming lecture filled his thoughts. "It is in the southern regions."

"We are no longer in the southern regions. What makes you think we have a need for tomato farmers?"

"I didn't think you do."

That surprised her. "Then why are you here?"

"I imagine for the same reason everyone hops the border."

"Hm." She unfolded her hands and tapped neatly trimmed fingernails on the desk. "And yet you bring tomato seed with you."

He nodded. "There was a rumor that seeds trade well up here."

"Surely you understand the foolishness in planning around a type of seed we do not grow." She thought she had him. He could see the spark of challenge in her eyes. Yes, she was a lot like Scarab, and he suddenly felt oddly comforted by that.

"Maybe it's not foolishness, but opportunity," he countered.

"Explain yourself."

"Romas actually grow well in most climates. They would be a desirable commodity, something new and different."

"You expect people will actually want something from the south?"

He nodded. "I'm sure of it. If they didn't, then we wouldn't have such high trade pacts with the Borderlands." He was suddenly grateful for Scarab's lectures.

"You make a point. Not being a farmer, I've no idea if it's viable," she quickly amended. "But I suppose your idea may have entrepreneurial validity. Why the citrus?"

"We were advised at the border town that citrus seeds were always an easy sell."

"Interesting."

Tenet couldn't even catch a hint as to what that might mean.

A knock at the door was answered, and the secretary brought in coffees. "Would you like me to stay and transcribe?"

Major Krupkie raised an eyebrow. "Do I ever?"

He sighed. "No, ma'am. But I was hoping there was some higher purpose to dragging me out of bed at four in the morning other than to make some coffee."

"Then your hopes are hereby officially dashed, Potter. Dismissed." Tenet couldn't miss the glint of amusement in her eye. It remained as she turned her gaze back to him while sipping her coffee. "Tell me about the herbs on your person."

"Medicinal, I guarantee it," he was quick to assure her.

"I have no doubt. My question lies in your ownership. It is a rare thing for a common tomato farmer to have the permissions of your government to purchase and carry such drugs."

"They aren't my government anymore," he said firmly. Tenet thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch, but he couldn't be sure. She waited for him to actually answer her questions. "My mother was from a southern tribe. They're known for healing and she took it upon herself to be the healer for our lot."

"I did not know there was a staff large enough to require a healer on a tomato farm."

It was a challenge more than a question. He gave as casual a shrug as he could. "It was in her blood and my father humored her. There was not much money to be had in that whole sector. A healer was hard to come by, and she'd often visit neighboring blocs to take care of their sick in return for whatever they could spare."

She began tapping her fingers on the desk again, and Tenet's nerves began to fray.

Tenet knew he should only answer what was asked. Scarab had warned him over and over that if they ever got caught and questioned, he should keep his answers short and to the point. But his nervousness was getting the better of him and he couldn't help but try and fill the painful silence. "We were tomato farmers, but we weren't really that good at it, if you want to know the truth. My father made some questionable business decisions."

"Did he?"

Tenet nodded, hoping he was coming across eager and sincere instead of desperate. "Yes. He never wanted to inherit the position, but he had no choice. I believe he would have been happier with potatoes. They're quite similar to tomato plants, you know. And they take far less work."

"So you father was lazy."

He didn't know why he felt bad for smearing the name of a man he never met who meant nothing to him, to the Borderlands, to the major or anyone else he'd encounter the rest of his life. But he did. "Well, I wouldn't say that. I'd say that his desires lay elsewhere. It's difficult to muster enthusiasm for one thing when you so clearly wish for something else."

"On that, we completely agree. So which are you, Mr. Lorne? Are you a tomato farmer or a medic at heart?"

"Medic," he answered without hesitation.

"Indeed?"

"Yes, ma'am. I guess...I guess I inherited my mother's tribal intuitions."

Major Krupkie picked up her coffee cup and took a long, slow sip to buy herself some thinking time. She had a real situation on her hands. She knew it as soon as Cap woke her up. If the captives were standard, ordinary runaways, there wouldn't have been a bounty hunter hot on their heels. Pursued by ex-Cons, maybe. But Cap assured Krupkie he was positive that the two had correctly identified who and what was after them. And the more this man talked, the more he confirmed her initial instinct. The facts didn't jibe with their story in any way. First, two farm bumpkins from a tomato plot wouldn't have made it this far north this quickly. They'd have had to have insider help for that, and failed tomato farmers couldn't afford the kind of services they'd need. It was high summer down there, now. If anything, they would have migrated and then slipped down from the north and landed in the northern borders, not her south west corner of the map.

The woman was good. Angel? Hardly. Not only was that not her name, but Major Krupkie doubted she held even a hint of the deity in her person. Oh, she was good, almost convincing even. She was demur and polite, scared and shy, just as she should be. Hell, many would probably have bought her act hook, line, and sinker. But many wouldn't know that look in her eyes. Many wouldn't have known that it was meat she ate first at the buffet, the subtle test for every visitor. Many wouldn't have paid attention to the mannerisms, the practiced movements, the cutting visual sweep she made as soon as she entered. The woman was not some farmer's daughter. At best she was an escapee from one of their cattle ranches, if she was from Southland at all. The major had her doubts on that.

And this man in front of her. If he was a tomato farmer, then she was the president. Tomato farmers are poor, especially failed ones. Though his story made sense about his mother, there would never be any way a tomato farmer would have enough money for the ridiculous dowry a healer daughter would have required to begin with. Elopements happened, sure, but because of their idiotic caste system, his father would have instantly ceded his rights of leadership. He wouldn't have a tomato farm to hate, then try to pass off to this alleged son.

The boy knew agro, though, that much was certain. He was also wealthy. Even though everything on his person was pathetically ragged and low cost, he carried himself with the practiced grace of aristocracy. These southerners, they didn't realize that the Borderlands had an upper class, too. There were rich and poor everywhere, and no matter the origin, there were simply some things that could not be disguised. He was highly educated. He used words that no mere tomato farmer would. He sat with an air of importance, even though it looked like he'd been through hell. Neither was even close to who they said they were and Krupkie would stake her life on that. Hell, maybe she already was.

The major watched him squirm. He toyed with his cup, his leg bounced up and down, and there was sweat on his brow. He was lying. The woman had been, as well, but she was much better at it. Of the two, she was the dangerous one. Did it matter? If he tied his fate to that of a criminal, didn't that make him a criminal as well? On paper, she should offer them banishment or execution. She should not, under any circumstances, offer them refuge anywhere in her borders.

Maybe she was getting old and soft, but she wasn't ready to pull the trigger on this case just yet. She needed to know more. No, she admitted to herself. She _wanted_ to know more. And she would. Though that woman was planning their escape, Major Krupkie felt confident that their troops could keep the pair under watch for another day or so while she pressed her best agents for some quick intel. She glanced up at the clock. Four thirty in the morning. If she had to be up this early, at least it was for something interesting for once.

"Potter," she called loudly, making Tenet jump. The door flew open. "Escort the Lornes back to the guest barracks. Have Walters assign them Block Four." Her eyebrow raised slightly, making Tenet wonder at what Block Four meant, but he didn't get a chance to ask. Potter's hand was on his arm pulling him up. "Potter!" Krupkie barked. "I said they are guests. No need to get rough."

"Yes, ma'am."

Tenet looked around quickly. That was it? Had he said something wrong? He let Potter pull him out and didn't even get the chance to thank the major or plead his case any more before the door was shut behind him and he was face to face with Scarab's concerned expression.

Scarab gave him a little frown and shake of her head, glancing quickly to Potter. Tenet gave a little shrug.

"Come on, I don't have all day," said Potter, holding the door open. They walked out in front of him to be met in the hall by two unfamiliar soldiers. "Take them to guest barracks and let Walters know the boss ordered Block Four."

"Yes, sir," said a young soldier, snapping a salute.

The soldier was young and over eager, and Scarab knew she could take him easily. The other one, though, was older, more experienced. He had the look of someone who'd seen real battle. If she was on her own, then maybe. Tenet wouldn't have a chance, though. They'd get to Block Four, whatever that was, and she'd press Tenet for details. Though her own interview hadn't gone exactly how she expected, she was confident she said nothing that would give them away or raise any concerns. She certainly said nothing that would be considered threatening or dangerous. She was very careful about that. She felt the frustration bubble up inside as the soldiers seemed determined to take the walk back to the barracks at a snail's pace.

Block Four turned out to be a heavily fortified room. The walls were metal. The door was metal with multiple locks. The inside of the room was nicely furnished, even having a private bathroom off the main bedroom/sitting area. Scarab noticed there was nothing sharp or heavy. The chairs in the sitting area had no frames. They appeared to be simply cleverly constructed overstuffed pillows to sit on. The table was bolted right to the floor. She looked up and saw the windows, tiny slits at the top of the walls that let in little light. Block Four was a prison cell. Panic crawled inside and she whirled around to bolt as the door was closing, the clicks of the locks echoing through her.

"Damn it!" she hissed. She should have made a run for it. She could have taken the older guard by surprise and the younger one probably would have overreacted and made a foolish mistake. Maybe...

Tenet's hand on her shoulder stopped her thoughts. "It's okay," he said. "If they wanted us dead, we would be by now."

She was surprised he knew what she was thinking. "What did you say?" she hissed.

"Me? Nothing. Just what we were..." Scarab whirled around and pointed to her ear, then placed her finger on her lips. That's right, they were probably being monitored. "...doing. It's okay if they know we eloped, honey," he finished.

Scarab rolled her eyes and shook her head, then pushed past to look around the room.

"It's not bad in here," Tenet said, flopping back on one of the chairs. When his momentum sent him right over the other side onto the floor, Scarab knew she assessed properly. They were just cushions that looked like chairs. As Tenet struggled to get up, Scarab moved into the bathroom to check it out, ignoring his swearing at the trick furniture. She frowned as her eyes scanned the small room. Again, nothing sharp, nothing lethal. There was no window and only a very tiny vent fan in the ceiling. There'd be no escape there.

"Are you still griping about the chair?" she asked, walking around the room and getting a more detailed look at the walls, the layout, and anything else that might be useful information to store for later.

Tenet was holding the "chair" and had it turned upside down. "I can't understand why in the hell they'd make a chair that's not a chair. Look! It's just a pillow. Why do that?"

Scarab was amused by his naivety. "So you couldn't break a leg off and take out a guard." She tried to wiggle a small table by the bed. While she couldn't see any bolts, it didn't so much as shake. Damn. She ran her hand underneath the top to feel for wires, but it was smooth. She moved on.

"Why would I hit a guard?" he asked in shock.

"Because prisoners often do that." Scarab was on her hands and knees, looking under the bed. No wires or listening devices there, either.

"Oh," said Tenet simply. He hadn't considered they were prisoners. As soon as she said it, he felt foolish for missing the signs all around the room. All those locks, tiny windows, everything either bolted down or harmless. "I'm an idiot."

"No, you're just not a criminal," she said loudly. If anyone was listening, she wanted to be sure they got that point hammered home. There was no kitchen. Their meals would have to be delivered. That looked to be their only opportunity if escape became necessary. Scarab sighed and stood, hating the helpless feeling. She was fairly certain that there were no listening devices in the general area of the bed. If they were very quiet, maybe whispering under the pillow, she could figure out what was said and what the major believed she knew. If she could figure out that much, she'd have a better idea where they stood. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

Tenet was surprised by the request, but didn't argue. He was exhausted. He untied the new boots and kicked them off as he crossed the room. Scarab left her clothing on, and in spite of his disappointment, he did the same. They got in under the covers, and she scooted right up to him. He pulled her close with a grin and she gave him a light elbow to the stomach.

"What was that for?"

"You're hogging the covers, dear," she said loudly, pointing to her ear again. Then she pulled the pillow out from under his head and put it on top.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Keep your voice as low as you can," she said, leaning in. "The walls have ears, remember?"

He sighed. So she was planning, not cuddling. "Yeah. Right. Sorry."

"What did you say?"

"To Krupkie? Nothing."

Scarab let out an annoyed huff. "So you two sat there for five minutes drinking coffee and staring at each other?"

Tenet rolled his eyes. "Of course not. She asked the basics, I gave her the basics."

"What specifically did you say?"

This was not his fault. He was sure of it. And she was so positive it was. "What specifically did you say?" he countered.

"She asked my name, location of our farm, my father's name, location and type of his crop."

"Uh oh."

"Did she ask you that?"

"No."

"Good. Then there's no contradiction there."

Tenet frowned. "We should have thought of that."

"Keep your voice down!" Scarab took a deep breath. "Yeah, we should have. If it comes up again, his name is Lance Daws and he's a worker on the turnip fields."

Tenet was impressed. Whether by accident or design, she somehow made up a plausible story. Turnip fields would be close enough to his pretend father's tomato lands to make their meeting almost a foregone conclusion. "Lance Daws. Got it."

"And then she asked for details on that ex-Con we killed. She seemed to be very interested in knowing if we saw any others on our journey. Controlling the gang seems to be the main function of this outpost. Now, what did she ask you?"

"Name, rank, and serial number," he said, giving the standard military response he'd learned at the academy. "She asked about the medicines."

"And?"

"And what? I told her the truth, that my mother was a healer from a southern tribe and I took an interest in that instead of my father's tomatoes."

Scarab bit her lip. "Hm."

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I mean, what else could you say, right? You had the drugs on you. There had to be a reason."

"Besides, she seemed very interested in my wanting to be a medic."

"Good. We hoped as much."

"Did she ask you anything about your training?"

"No." Scarab didn't think much of it at the time, but now that she heard Tenet got grilled, she found it odd that Krupkie didn't ask her a single question about her education, training, or potential services she could provide for the community. She knew the picture she painted for other people. She spent years relying on the fact that people could take one look at her and know they better stay in line. The fact that Krupkie didn't ask anything about what she could do suddenly made her worried. She did her best to play the lost little girl. Maybe it wasn't enough. Maybe she was too much herself no matter how much she tried to change. Maybe Krupkie didn't ask because she didn't have to. "Shit," she whispered, a shiver going up her. It wasn't Tenet. He didn't give them away.

Tenet felt her shiver, felt her tense. He could feel her fear. He gently pulled her arm until she rolled over. He tucked her into him and held her close. She only stiffened for a few seconds before she began to relax. "If they know, they know. Nothing we can do about it now, right?" He lifted his head and put the pillow back where it belonged, then did the same with hers.

He was right, and that pissed her off. They were more stuck here than they would have been dodging the govers in Southland. At least there they had a chance. They had options. "How can you be calm?" she hissed, trying to pull away. "How can you always be so damn calm?"

"One of us has to be." He pulled her to him and held his arm firm. He could feel her scowl, and that made him smile. "We're here. We made it. Okay, so we're kind of in jail."

"Kind of?"

"And we really don't know what's going to happen later. But for right now, we're clean for the first time in weeks, we've had a great meal, and now we're spending our first night together in a surprisingly soft bed." He felt her tension slip and couldn't help the feeling of satisfaction coursing through him. He was learning her in spite of her best efforts to keep him out. He was finding the ways past her defenses. "Seriously, if this is how they treat their prisoners, how bad can they be?"

She swallowed hard, feeling the panic bubble again at his words. "You don't want to know," she whispered, pressing herself back into him for the solid comfort of his arms.

Tenet hoped that one day she would tell him. But, it wouldn't be today. "We're safe from Jace," he pointed out. It was something. If she couldn't get out, she was positive Jace couldn't get in. "And you're letting me hold you again," he murmured against her ear.

To her surprise and consternation, she didn't rebuff him. Her mind decided to grab on to that revelation instead of the fear. "Go to sleep, Te...Archie," she corrected quickly.

Tenet hooted and cheered inside. She didn't push him away, she didn't argue. She didn't pull away even slightly. In fact, she nestled in as if she really was starting to get comfortable being in his arms. He gave her a small squeeze, smiling into her hair. "Good night, Angel," he whispered. Whatever happened later would happen. For that moment, it was more than enough.

Chapter 7

It was two full days before they faced Krupkie again. Their imprisonment was the easiest imprisonment Tenet ever heard of. The guards were very friendly, the food was plentiful and delicious, and they were offered many entertainments to pass the time. If it weren't for the bolted-down furniture and four locks on the thick metal door, it would have felt like a vacation.

"I've never had one so I wouldn't know," Scarab said when he mentioned as much.

"Never had what?"

"A vacation." She was playing a solo game with a deck of cards and he was supposed to be reading a History of the United Borderlands, a book one of the guards thought they might enjoy.

Tenet put the book down. He was initially surprised, but then realized her life wasn't the kind that would offer any respite from difficulties. "Well," he said, clearing his throat at the pain of the unfairness of life that had given him so much and her so little. "They are actually just like this. Without locks, I mean."

She gave a little snort and let the subject drop. He had that guilty look again, and she hated that. Her life wasn't his fault. While she didn't blame him, she couldn't help but feel a little incredulous when he looked so surprised about her lack of luxuries. They didn't speak of vacations again. They spent the time with Tenet reading tidbits from the history book out loud and Scarab pretending to listen. She knew most of the general history, even if she'd forgotten details. He didn't realize it was making her uncomfortable to remember, and she didn't tell him. If they were going to live here, she'd have to remember. She'd have no choice. She would remember it all, the impersonal facts of the country along with her too personal memories of her family and daily life.

"Don't you ever stop with the lectures?" she snapped at him once when he was deep in a discussion mostly with himself on the subject of the small woodland farm communities, very much like the one she was raised in.

Instead of taking offense, Tenet seemed to really think over the question. "I suppose if I stayed, I probably would have been a teacher at the academy. I just like it."

"Well I don't remember signing up for a class."

He sighed. "My, we're testy. Fine. It's completely your choice if you want to be ignorant of the way things work up here."

He was annoyingly right, and she grit her teeth and told him to continue. No matter what else it brought up inside, they were ill prepared and had to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity to learn about the life they would hopefully lead. She listened and filed away facts, hoping that by doing that, the painful memories and comparisons could be pushed aside once again.

When a guard unexpectedly told them they would be visiting Krupkie, she was actually glad for the distraction. At least in Krupkie's office the constant battle to keep her past at bay would take a back seat.

They were ushered into Krupkie's office immediately upon their arrival. "Close the door, Potter," she told the secretary gruffly. "Sit," she commanded Tenet and Scarab. They sat quickly and she introduced another officer. "This is Commander Haften." She did not give any time for further introduction or waste a second on extending a welcome. "We have reviewed the reports of your possessions. All of the seed is clean and approved for import."

Tenet felt a surge of hope, while Scarab clenched her fist. There would be more. This alone was not enough to give them the clear.

"Your medicals have also turned up clear." They'd both had a physical with the command center's medic. "No contagion, infection, or unacceptable abnormalities. You are young and fit and strong, and your knowledge of medicines would make you an excellent addition to one of the northern-midland communities."

Tenet almost gave a hoot.

"However, I cannot ignore the unusual circumstances of either your person or your situation."

It was as if ice water was dumped over Tenet's head.

Krupkie watched the cold steadiness of the woman, almost comical in contrast to the clear play of up and down emotions on the man. Half of her wanted to keep them close to see what would happen. What she'd been able to learn about them over the past two days intrigued her. Haften and the others on the immigration board had their reservations. The son of one of the most influential citizens of Southland was an incredible bargaining chip. For his life, they could demand the very moon and it would be paid. That was the boards' reasoning.

Not Krupkie's. There was a death bounty on the kid. They wouldn't pay a single credit for his return. She knew how that government worked. Life was not precious to them, in spite of what their bullshit national religion taught. It never ceased to astound her how quickly the same people who would rather die than eat an animal would order the death of someone who wronged them. Secretly, of course. Quietly, of course. Without mess or knowledge, of course. The people never suspected. Sheep, the whole lot.

And a hunter. Though nothing concrete was known about this woman who went by her hunting name and code, Krupkie would have bet that she was one of the child outcasts from the Borderlands. There were too many who suffered that horrible practice, with children taking the punishment for the parents, that it was impossible to comb through the files and pinpoint which family. Not that it mattered to Krupkie. She did not share the board's opinion that the rot would pass from father to child, that whatever her father or mother did to get the family banished would be carried out again by the girl. A careful investigation of the publicly accepted bounties showed that hunter Scarab only took in live bounties, usually outlaws to be handed over to the authorities for justice. Clearly she accepted the job offered by the Bradwin family, even though officially on the records that bounty went unassigned. She wasn't worried about the hunter. If she was rotten like the board thought, she would have killed the kid for what was no doubt an obscene amount of money. She didn't. She chose the hard but morally correct path. Krupkie respected her for it.

Krupkie spent all of the previous day trying to convince the board of the boon the entire country had by keeping this couple within their borders and safe.

"Think of what he knows."

"Ah, but will he tell? He's already lied."

"Of course he's lied. They're running for their lives! If your father placed a death bounty on your head, wouldn't you lie and run away, too?"

The board could not argue that. "But she's a hunter. A hunter! They kill. They have to. What if she gets it in her head to start pushing people around?"

"She put her very life on the line to save a stranger. Isn't that what we're supposed to hail as a hero? And you condemn her for it. You sound as bad as the southies!"

The board had to concede through embarrassment. They did sound as bad as the southies.

"Think what this could mean for us. He knows southern medicine. He knows southern farming practices. I don't think he knows how they really make their money, but he can give us what we've wanted for years: insider information." Her arguments slowly won people over, one by one. "He knows what they teach in the academies. He knows how their confusing caste system actually works. He knows the names and locations and daily habits of all the top gentry." Nods, reluctant murmurs of agreement. "And if that's not enough, just think of what it will do for our people who are struggling and thinking of leaving. We've seen how many we're losing to their propaganda. The son of their Exalted Leader. Not there. _Here._ " She drove her finger down on the table to emphasize her point. "He chose this place and this life in this land. You can't have a better anti-propaganda statement than that!"

That was the argument that won the hold outs over. There were still concerns and serious reservations, though, the biggest immediate concern being the bounty hunter that chased them across the border. Though Cap and his troop got close enough to drive the hunter back, the board felt that he'd probably try again. Or another would, anyway. "You can't defy their government and expect them just to give up. We know that one first hand." It was Commander Haften's argument, and it was a good one. Above all else, Major Krupkie's main objective was the safety of the citizens of the United Borderlands.

Krupkie stared at the two captives. It was clear the woman knew they were caught, while the boy still wasn't sure. It was time for the major to give them the opportunity to alleviate the last of the board's concerns as well as her own. She turned to the female hunter. "Who tracked you?"

Scarab knew the only recourse at this point was to answer honestly. She was certain they knew the real story behind their border crossing. Cap had been right with his warnings and she underestimated the major. However, they were still here. They hadn't instantly been kicked out. The Commander next to the major was old, fat and soft. He clearly wasn't there as a show of muscle or force. He looked like a business man, not a soldier. She knew Tenet had it figured out. He felt him sag in defeat. But all the signs began to add up to a better picture in her head. "A hunter named Jace."

"He's not on the official records."

Scarab shrugged. "Officially he died two years ago."

Tenet's heart began to race. "What are you talking about, Angel?"

"Cut the crap, Mr. Bradwin."

"It's fine," Scarab said simultaneously. "It's fine," she said again, giving Tenet a confident look. Tenet swallowed hard and clamped his mouth shut, hoping she knew what she was doing. "He's an assassin for the govers now," she continued, looking back to Krupkie.

Commander Haften made a little moan and rolled his eyes. "I told you! We can't have an..."

"Can it, Ralph," Major Krupkie barked. He may be in control in the board room, but she was the one who ruled her office.

"But an assassin!" he stupidly continued.

"I said hush!" Krupkie held her gaze on the large, useless man until he finally shut his mouth. She turned back to Scarab. "Tell me, Hunter Scarab, just how it is that you escaped assassination?"

"I'm good at my job." Scarab saw both respect and high amusement in flash in Krupkie's eyes for a fleeting moment before her look turned serious.

"I am charged with the health and well being of the citizens of Carlton, those under my command in the field, and the very populace of the United Borderlands themselves. And you have lead an assassin to my doorstep." Scarab couldn't argue that and simply waited out the silence. "Will he continue to pursue?"

"I doubt it," Scarab answered honestly. "Above all else, he is lazy. He will most likely file a report that we were killed and dumped into a river."

"The government will require proof."

Scarab nodded. "He'll have proof. My guess is that he's recovered our tracking chips from the outpost where we got reassigned."

Tenet gasped and looked at Scarab. He hadn't thought about that. He was worried that the government would give Weevil a hard time, not that an assassin would end up on his doorstep.

Scarab didn't want to look at Tenet. She couldn't reassure him, not now. But as soon as she knew it was Jace after them, she was certain he had done anything he had to to find them. She hoped Weevil and the others were fine. Honestly, it was a coin toss.

"That's not proof of death. Won't they be tracking him up across our border? How can he explain that?"

"He's an assassin. He doesn't work under the same rules as a hunter. There's no league, no license, no pay transfer, at least not officially. Every job he takes is secret and the revelation of his methods is up to his discretion. It's high Summer. He won't be expected to risk filing a report digitally, or raise alarm by hiring a late season transport."

"So no one's watching him?" Krupkie asked.

"No, most likely not."

"Hm." Krupkie sat back in her chair and thought over the new information. In the hunter's shoes, she'd fake the death, too. It would get him the payment, the government would be happy. There was very little chance the boy would ever show his face across the border again, or even near it. With an intelligent hunter by his side, they'd move deep inland, far away from those who wanted him dead. Anyone with half a brain would know that tracking them inland would be nearly impossible. She glanced to a scowling Haften, but determined that anything he would add would be unhelpful. She turned her gaze to Tenet. "What have you done to bring the hatred of an entire government?"

Tenet cleared his throat. He had no idea how to answer that. "It's...uh...not the entire government. Just one."

"The head one," Krupkie supplied.

"Yes."

"Which for all intents and purposes in your ridiculous system can be considered the entire government." Tenet gave a nod of concession. "What was the matter, then? What do you know that has him so scared?"

Tenet snorted. "He's not afraid of me. He simply does not want me to ruin the family name, our history."

Krupkie felt bad for the young man if he actually believed that. "Kid, I've been doing this a long time. And if there's one thing I know for sure is that no one puts this much effort into killing someone else unless they're driven by a deep fear."

It was a good point, one Scarab hadn't really considered. Tenet turned pale and she knew he hadn't, either. If he did know something, he was unaware of it. That made their situation all the more dangerous, and Scarab frowned deeply.

"He's a mean bastard," Tenet offered, struggling to accept what he was hearing. "Isn't that enough reason?"

"No. Not usually."

Commander Haften cleared his throat and shot Krupkie a look. If Haften didn't know her better, he'd think she had a soft spot for the boy. They were getting wildly off topic and it was time to get things back on track.

Krupkie sighed heavily. "Getting back to my point. I won't lie. Having the son of the leader escape to our country is an enormous bargaining chip."

"I will not let you trade him back," Scarab said simply.

Krupkie looked at her for a long moment. "I do not believe you know how lucky you got in your father's choice of hunters, boy," she said to Tenet, still staring at Scarab. There were very few people Krupkie ever met in her life that could give her a real run for her money on the battlefield. She was certain that this hunter was at the top of the list. "I do not plan on trading him back. What value could we possibly gain by his death?"

Scarab didn't bother to hide her sneer. "So you plan on using him."

Krupkie gave a shrug. "No more than he's using us. He knows things. He knows people. He knows names and faces and insider information we could never dream of obtaining."

"You want me to...to....sell them out?" He scoffed. "The people I was raised with, my friends, my family..."

"Some family," snorted Haften.

Krupkie sighed and shot Haften another glare. He was not helping. "I am prepared to offer you a life, son," said, turning back to Tenet. "I will offer you and your wife sanctuary here in my country at great personal risk. All I ask in return is for you to aid your new country with a little information."

It didn't set right with Tenet and he felt sick. "What...what's going to happen to them?"

Krupkie looked surprised. "Happen?"

"I doubt you want inside information to invite them over for a tea party."

Krupkie blinked for a second, then surprised everyone in the room by barking a laugh. "I cannot believe you are standing up to defend people who'd have you killed. Who'd _pay_ to have you killed."

Tenet felt his face turn red. She had a point, but only so far as his father went. And Jace. But that was it. No one else had a hand in any of this. If he was going to trade his life for anyone's head on a platter, it was going to be the only one responsible. "I will tell you everything you want to know about my father. That's it."

Krupkie's humor faded. "Do you really think you are in a position to bargain?"

Scarab was surprised herself and turned to look at Tenet. What was he playing at? She wanted to slap a hand over his mouth, thank the kind lady, and get the hell out of there before he blew it all.

"I'm not bargaining," he said firmly. "I'm telling you what I am willing to do for this new life you've offered."

"I could kill you," Krupkie said coldly.

"She's well within her rights," confirmed the unhelpful Haften.

Tenet swallowed, but stuck to his guns. "I've caused enough pain and trouble to enough people already. I won't give you information on innocent people who thought they had my confidence. My father wants me dead. He's a bad man, plain and simple. You can't be a good person and order the death of your only son who's done nothing wrong in life. I've done nothing right, either," he was quick to admit. "But I certainly haven't done anything that would be reason enough for my death." The only one in the room who doubted that at all was Haften, and no one counted him. "I will tell you whatever you want to know about my father. And then I will be a model citizen. I will practice medicine and build a home and be part of a community," he grabbed Scarab's hand, "with my wife at my side. And I will never, ever do anything to make you regret your decision to let us stay."

Scarab gave his hand a slight squeeze, overcome with pride at just how far he'd come. It was foolish to try and bargain, and yet, she completely understood and respected his position. She turned to stare at Krupkie, to see if she could judge her reaction. Haften was sputtering, but Krupkie simply watched Tenet with a stoic expression. The seconds ticked on. Haften tried to say something, but Krupkie's hand stopped him.

"You have balls, I'll give you that," she said eventually. Scarab felt Tenet's hand relax the iron grip he held. "But I can't make that kind of promise." She held her finger up. "Hear me out. I swear to you this is the best deal you will find within any border on earth." Tenet gave a little nod for her to make her offer.

"I understand and respect what you are saying. You don't want to sell out anyone who may be innocent. I don't know what you believe we'd do with the information. Our government has absolutely no interest in your lands, your people, or how you operate. I said my one and only concern is my people, and I meant that. Your neighbors could all be murdering, thieving bastards for all we care and we wouldn't lift one damn finger to intercede. That's not what we're after. My concern is my people. Specifically, stopping illegal trading of addictive drugs crossing my border." She pinched her forefinger and thumb close together. "We are this close to stopping the problem. This. Close. But we can't pinpoint the sources."

"I can't help with that," Tenet insisted. "I don't know anything about illegal drugs. We grow corn and wheat. The gover agros are the only ones licensed for medicinal drug growing."

"The only ones licensed, maybe, but not the only ones actually growing. Tell me, son. Would you put it past your father to make a few quick bucks by selling us barbarians up here some cocaine?"

"Cocaine's not legal," he mumbled his mind reeling with what she was saying.

"Would you put it past him?" she persisted.

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a laugh at the absurdity. "Until a month or so ago I didn't even know people lived up here!"

Krupkie sighed again. "Now you know. So, would you put it past your father?"

No. No he wouldn't. The thought made him sick and he swallowed the bile rising. As soon as he thought he knew the worst about his father, he found out another piece of the puzzle that painted an even more horrible picture. "No, I wouldn't put it past him."

"How about his friends?"

Tenet shook his head slowly. "They're nice people."

"Nice? Kid, we're getting whole crops of highly addictive illegal drugs hooking our people and killing them. Whole crops that have to be coming from multiple sources."

Tenet put his hand in the air. "I swear to you I know nothing about that."

"I know. But I guarantee those in your father's circle do."

Tenet considered her words carefully, but decided he could not budge. He had to take a stand somewhere, and he'd already made a mess of enough peoples' lives. He wouldn't give her inside information that might ruin more on nothing more than a whim. "I'll give you anything on my father, but I will not guess with other peoples' lives."

Krupkie quirked an eyebrow. "Even if it means keeping thousands safe?"

"I will not guess!" Tenet slammed his hand on Krupkie's desk, his emotions taking over. Everyone went still in the room, and Tenet instantly regretted the action. Scarab held her breath wondering where in the hell that Tenet came from and what Krupkie was going to do about it. Even Haften had the sense to be stunned silent.

"I...I'm sorry," Tenet said. "I can't guess, okay? I honestly know nothing that will help you on that front and I won't hand over potentially innocent people to face consequences they might not deserve. I'm sorry that they're selling drugs up here. It makes me sick to think about it. But I have to be able to live with myself. Whatever else these people are, they were my friends. They were my neighbors. They were kinder to me than my own family and..." his words were choked off an he had to pause to get his emotions back in check. He cleared his throat. "I can't do that to them."

Krupkie was stunned that the boy had it in him to be so forceful, and even more stunned that after his outburst, he didn't retract. She respected that. Years of hard ruling had left a lot of "yes men" in her company. Even the board always capitulated in the end. Their frequent arguments against her ideas were simply for the sake of feeling important. She couldn't remember when the last time was that an idea of hers actually got shot down. Bluster for the sake of bluster, but no honest differences. Contrary to what they thought, she always appreciated a different opinion. Oh, she always went with her own ideas in the end, but that didn't mean she didn't like hearing an issue from all sides.

As the silence lengthened, Haften took on a smug look. He was sure this kid was about to get it with both barrels. He was both stunned and outraged when Krupkie once again surprised him with her response.

"You make a valid point," she said in a clipped tone. "I don't expect that I would turn in my family and friends unless I was absolutely certain about their guilt, either. I can respect that."

"He's a loose cannon," Haften hissed.

"Oh be quiet you old buzzard. Don't you have some books to go balance or some lunch to eat?" The man turned purple with rage but shut up. "I don't believe you are a loose cannon," she said to Tenet. "Perhaps you are the most sensible of any of us in the room. I agree to your terms." She stuck her hand out to shake.

Scarab held her own hand up. "Hold on a second. Before either of us agrees to anything, I want to know exactly what we're getting into."

Smart girl, Krupkie thought. "There is a settlement that is in desperate need for a medic. Though we do not fully adhere to the same healing practices you are familiar with, you should find elderly women more than willing to fill in the gaps in your education."

"Elderly women?"

"Of course. Aside from a healer, who else would know more about setting bones and healing the sick? If you think there's any way a Borderlands medic will trade secrets with an untested Southerner, you're sorely mistaken. If you plan to take the medic route, then you'd do well to be polite and hope the elderly women of the tribe take pity!" She said it in such a matter-of-fact tone that Tenet was embarrassed that he didn't figure that out for himself. "The town is called Nortaberg and it's in the northern Midland province."

"So as far away from this border as possible," Scarab said.

"Almost smack dab in the middle of the country, actually," Krupkie confirmed. "A transport to New Canada is too easy to attain, and I'm not going to make you someone else's problem. It's on this side of the central mountain range. Good farm land, if you care, but it does get cold so the growing season's short."

"Is it beef land?" Scarab asked.

She nodded. "Some. More sheep and goats."

"Goats? I've never seen a goat," Tenet said, feeling excited for the next leg of their adventure.

"See? Something to look forward to already." Krupkie picked up a folder that was on the desk in front of her. "Their medic died with no kin, leaving both an opening for a new medic and a house as an incentive for someone to take the job."

She held the file up and Scarab took it. "Nice incentive," she muttered.

"More than most."

The top page in the file was a flyer, an advertisement for the position. It was dated a year ago, and Scarab frowned. "Why hasn't anyone taken the position yet?"

"It's hard living there. Not a lot of money in the region, and no large population centers within easy travel."

Scarab felt there was more to the story than Krupkie was saying. Scarab studied the sheet in front of her, and thought about what Krupkie said. Old women did the doctoring, they weren't near a population center, and in the mountains... Something niggled at her memory. Put it together, her little voice urged. "Celtists," she said quietly, the image of her old grandmother chanting above her broken leg suddenly flashing through her mind.

"Very good," Krupkie said. The hunter just confirmed she was one of them, and Krupkie filed that information away for later.

"What are Celtists?" Tenet asked, turning to Scarab.

"It's an old religion unique to the central mountain ranges of the Borderlands," Krupkie explained. "Actually, it's not all that old. It was formed after the great asteroid strike. Certain people who had studied truly ancient religions of the Celtic people believed the asteroid was called down upon us to punish our pollution or some such nonsense."

"You don't believe in it, then?" Scarab asked.

Krupkie gave Scarab an odd look. "After the life you must have lead, do you?"

Scarab could say nothing. She hadn't been in the religion since she was a child. She never assessed the thoughts and reasons behind her mother's beliefs, because that life was gone to her, dead. As a girl, she certainly put faith in the powers of the earth the priestesses taught. What good had they done her? She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to think about any of it. She shut the folder and shoved it across the desk. "This can't be our only option."

"It sounds fine to me," said Tenet, wondering why Scarab was suddenly so upset.

She scoffed. "What's your religion, Tenet?"

"Enlightened Humanism," he answered easily.

"Exactly," Scarab said, as if that cleared anything up. "I'd be hard pressed to think of a more different culture for you to dive into. We have to blend and be part of it, not stick out like a sore thumb."

Krupkie was intrigued. The thought of being around Celtists had this woman, this hardened hunter, scared. "If that's your criteria, then you chose the wrong nation. You will not find a community willing to embrace Enlightened Humanism here."

Scarab sighed. "I know. But there's got to be something a little less different than a Celtist community."

"It's a job and a house, something you thought we wouldn't have the first year," Tenet argued. "I can learn a new way."

She scoffed at him. "Really? Okay. Did you know that the acceptable cure for a broken limb in a Celtist community involves the slaughter of a chicken? Are you aware that they make a sacrifice to their gods and bleed the animal out over the injury, then burn the animal to ashes? They waste it, Tenet. Can you sit back and watch the senseless waste of an animal like that?"

The thought was horrifying to him for a second. Chicken blood? "That's..." But he didn't know what it was. "Why do they do that?"

"They let the chicken bleed over the broken bone and pray for the life force of one creature to flow into and heal the other."

It was hardly scientific. Tenet doubted it actually cured any broken bones at all. Still, there was something poetic about it. Hopeful. Wrong, but sweetly innocent in the thinking. He wondered what it felt like to have to take the life of a chicken in a desperate hope to save the life of a person. Then he wondered what it felt like to be the one on the other end, in pain, scared with chicken blood running over them. With life force running over them, he corrected himself. What he saw as blood, they would see as hope. What he saw as disgusting, they saw as medicine. What a gift it must feel like, to know that a life was given to save yours.

"I once went on a call with my mother," he said after he thought it over. "A child was sick with infection and the clinic refused them. I had no choice but to watch helplessly as that little baby died slow and painful over three days."

"Tenet, that's hardly the same," Scarab began.

"Do you know what we did for her? Nothing. Because we didn't believe anything would help. The mother, she did nothing, because she didn't believe anything would help. Science told us the only thing that would assist the girl was a medicine we were not allowed to carry."

Scarab sighed. "I don't see what one has to do with another. Chicken blood does not heal bones."

"No. But it offers comfort to those who think it does. We did nothing because we didn't believe in anything. Chicken blood does not heal wounds. You're right. That's a fact. But, at least if the girl believed we were helping, or her mother did, at least maybe then we could have given them comfort. It's not just blood and chants, it's the idea that faith will come in and save them at the last minute."

"But it doesn't," Scarab insisted.

"Don't you get it? That doesn't matter. Whether the medicine works or not, it's the hope that's the healer. My religion teaches that you do what you know to help, and that the rest is out of your hands. There is no hope, because miracles do not happen. If you get an infection so deep that it needs a contali extract to cure it, then unless you have contali extract, you're screwed. Left for dead. Forgotten. At least the Celtists try. At least with them there's room for belief or hope. That little girl was one of many I watched die, despondent, hopeless, in abject misery of body and soul. And we did nothing to make her passing any easier because that damned book the minister insisted we follow did not grant us that right." Real pain at the memory was in his voice by the time he finished, and he swallowed hard.

Haften sniffed loudly in the silence that followed. "Well said, boy."

It was one thing to say it, it was another to live by it, and Scarab knew that firsthand. Celtists were difficult to outsiders at best. They were wary and closed. It would be nearly impossible to become part of the community without converting, and she knew if push came to shove, Tenet just couldn't convert. She wouldn't go back to living it, either. "Tenet, it's not as glorious as you seem to think. It's not all noble. In many ways, they're so closed that they cause deaths."

"They are the ones that posted for a trained medic," Krupkie supplied. "Perhaps the knowledge of science is a little better prospect than suffering another unnecessary epidemic."

Scarab glared at Krupkie. She was not helping.

Tenet took Scarab's hand and squeezed it. "I'm not completely naive, you know. I'm sure there will be many times I shake my head and wonder how in the hell they can think this or that. Come on. Chicken blood? Seriously? But I can respect their ways." He gave a laugh. "A house and a job. How can I not?"

"And what would I do, hm? At least in a city my skills would be..."

"Noticed," Krupkie said, interrupting. "Your skills would be noticed. It would get you both noticed."

"So tuck us away in some backwoods hillbilly town with goats and sheep and Celtists." She couldn't help the bitterness in her voice.

"I'm glad you grasp the plan." Krupkie slid the file over to Tenet. "I promise, this is the best you're going to get."

Scarab pulled her hand from Tenet and crossed her arms over her chest. She did not want to be in the mountains again. She did not want to be in a Celtist community again. She was returning to a life she buried, only without the people that should be there with her. And there didn't seem to be a damn thing she could do about it.

Krupkie was about to assure this girl that things were different, now, that the government that treated her so poorly was long gone, that if she tried, she'd find friends in her homeland once again. But Krupkie knew how the tough hunter Scarab would receive that advice, and she held her tongue. She'd see them again. Maybe by then the bitterness and pain in the girl's eyes would be lessened. She hoped so, for the boy's sake if nothing else.

"So one more time, this is my offer. You'll move up there immediately. I believe Kratz is from that general area. I'll have him help you sell your seeds and get what you'll need for the winter. You won't have time to plant a crop, so I suggest you hope the house is in fairly livable condition and spend as much as you can on food stores and a horse."

Tenet's eyebrow shot up. "A horse?"

Scarab forgot to tell him that part. "Yes. Most people use horses for work and riding."

His eyes went wide with outrage. "You _ride_ on them?"

His outraged tone amused Krupkie. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in their house for the first winter! "You have a lot to learn," she pointed out. "I suggest you get as much information out of Kratz on the way up as you can. In return, I'll spend my winter with my intelligence agents and we'll decide how you can help us. If you make it through the winter, we'll meet in spring. Now, last time...is it a deal?"

Tenet shook her hand, and Scarab reluctantly followed suit. What choice did they really have? It occurred to Scarab as they were being escorted back to the barracks to meet with Fratz that Krupkie never really spelled out Tenet's future responsibilities with the Borderlands government. It also occurred to her that there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it. A house and a job for Tenet. It really was more than they could have hoped for, in spite of her trepidation at the location and the people they'd be around. She tried to take a page out of Tenet's book and be hopeful. When that emotion didn't fit, she settled for being simply resigned and sat with Fratz to make plans she really hoped would see them through the winter. This was her new life. As reluctant as she was, she was determined to make it as good as she could.

Chapter 8

Tenet was in his new country for a full two weeks and still everything felt new, everywhere they went seemed strange, everyone they talked to was foreign and different. He wondered if he'd ever get used to it, or if they would get used to him. He was friendly and open and full of interest and questions for their new countrymen. He annoyed Scarab to no end when they'd stop at a town or inn for the night, something Fratz insisted they do no matter how much Scarab begged otherwise.

Fratz hated sleeping outdoors. He claimed he'd done enough of it to last a lifetime. Scarab would beg and plead, have a tantrum and stomp, but the big man wouldn't be swayed.

"If I have to take the incessant chatter one more night, I'm going to explode," Scarab told him as a last ditch plea.

"Then 'splode if'na gotta, missy. My ass is sleepin' on a mattress this night, and that's that."

Tenet loved the inns. They were everywhere, which surprised him. For whatever reason, he had pictured the Borderlands as primitive. Backwards. Uneducated with no modern conveniences. It's certainly how Scarab sold it. And to some extent, it was. The gaps in technologies fascinated Tenet. Though the large towns had electricity, only some rural towns along the way did. Some of the inns had lights, some used fire. When he asked about it, people shrugged. Electricity was simply not a priority. Some people wanted it, some did not.

"We want electricity," he said that night to Scarab.

"Yes," Scarab agreed.

"What if we don't have it?"

"Then we'll put it on the list to figure out down the road."

"I've never lived without electricity."

Scarab sighed. "You've been living without electricity for months now."

"Oh. Right."

"Tenet?"

"Yes?"

"Go to sleep."

Another thing that was puzzling to Tenet was transportation. Certainly he'd seen a wide variety of mechanical transporters. There were different sizes, styles, and types, some beautiful examples of craftsmanship, other slapped together scraps that looked ready to fall apart. But the majority of people used animals. The man at the bar on that night explained to him that it came down to simple personal preference. There were pros and cons to both types of transportation. "If it gets you there, what do you care?"

"Are we always going to use horses?" he asked of his wife that evening.

"I don't know. I like to go fast."

"Good. Me too. Then we'll put something mechanical on the list."

"If there are roads up in Nortaberg for a machine."

"Oh, good point. Okay, if there are, we're definitely getting something mechanical."

Scarab sighed. "Tenet?"

"Yeah?"

"Go to sleep."

Overall, people were friendlier than he expected. He was clearly a stranger, clearly from the Southland, but no one asked. No one pried. He did, and he only felt bad about it when Scarab would chastise him. Her words didn't have that effect for very long, and the next day he'd be asking strangers everything he could think of about their new land.

"I told you to leave people alone," Scarab told him. "You're starting to get looks."

Tenet sighed and shut the light off in their inn room. "I'm not asking anything personal," he defended.

"It doesn't matter. I'm telling you, you shouldn't pry. People don't like it."

"If they didn't like it, they wouldn't answer." He pointed out. When she only sighed heavily, Tenet shook his head. "I know, I know. Go to sleep."

Tenet was correct on that point, though. If the new people he came across minded his questions, they didn't have to answer. Some didn't, and he took the hint without offense and moved on to speak with someone else. He never asked anything personal. He didn't ask their names, where they were from, where they were going, what they were doing. He just chatted. Mingled. He got the feeling that Scarab was only annoyed because she didn't know how to do that. She didn't know how to walk up to someone and strike up a conversation. He was finally glad to know all those parties and events he attended as a child had some merit after all. He was learning far more about his new home through everyday conversations with locals than he had from reading that entire history book.

"I just can't believe all of this has been here, and I had no idea. None." It was the sentiment he kept coming back to over and over, his surprise that an entire world could exist so close, and yet so far away. Usually the night wouldn't really end until he'd made the same comment over and over. It seemed to please Fratz whenever Tenet would say something like that to him.

"Best kept secret on the planet," Fratz would reply with patriotic pride.

Scarab appreciated the sentiment. She honestly could put herself in his mindset to a degree and look at their new situation with the surprise and thrill of discovery...for all of about a minute. And then, then she'd remember, and the hopeful excitement would fade back to painful memories. Tenet's habit of chatting up the locals wasn't really helping in that regard, especially when they started moving deeper inland, and began running into people so familiar to her childhood that she could have sworn they were related.

Scarab was sick of people. After the fifth night in a surprisingly crowded inn, she was glad they would live in the mountains. She always missed people until she had to be around them for any length of time. They'd check into the inn and she would head for the bar and glare at Tenet while he had the whole room wrapped around his little finger. It was so easy for him. He was a natural charmer. She'd drink a couple drinks with Fratz, then call Tenet away from whatever group he was in and head to bed. By the time they'd been on the road nearly two weeks, she was sick of the routine. She wasn't kidding. If she had to watch Tenet hobnob with those backwoods bitches...

The thought stopped Scarab and she looked down at her empty cup. Three drinks down and look where her thoughts were heading. Time to call it a night before she got out of control. She placed the glass down and nodded to Fratz.

"Nighty, missy," he said with a friendly wave.

Scarab walked up to Tenet, ignoring the woman that was almost hanging on him. "Time for bed, _husband_ ," she said, stressing the word specifically for the slutty woman to hear.

Tenet quirked an eyebrow, but didn't argue. "It was nice meeting you, Bonny," he said to the young woman. She gave him a smile and giggle.

"Maybe you could have breakfast with me before you hit the road in the morning?" Bonny asked, twirling a curl around her finger.

Scarab was outraged. "I'm standing right here."

Tenet sighed. "Sorry, no. We'll be heading out early."

"And he's married," Scarab said to stress the main point.

Bonny shot Scarab a glare, then batted her eyes at Tenet again before bouncing off in Fratz's direction.

Scarab considered her options. Three drinks made it easy for her to picture Bonny dying in any number of interesting and satisfying ways. It would feel so damn good to pop the hussy right there. She doubted the innkeep would appreciate that. So, she turned to Tenet. The damn fool was looking at Bonny's ass as she flounced off! Though she didn't want it to, that knowledge hurt. Before she could stop herself, she landed a solid punch in his stomach and stormed off to go to their room. She ignored his sputtering and Fratz's deep laugh as she stalked off.

Scarab went into their room and heard Tenet's footsteps up the stairs. The idiot was following her! Didn't he know she needed to cool down? The bathroom was her only option, and she cursed the fact that it didn't have a lock. When she could hear him moving in the living area of their rented room, she quickly turned on the shower, hoping he'd take a hint.

"Scarab! What the hell was that?"

"I'm taking a shower!" Scarab bellowed back. She held her breath to see if he would continue, but he obviously decided to give her space and time. She undressed and got in the shower, grateful for the reprieve. What the hell _was_ that?

Jealousy. That's what it was, plain and simple. She'd never been jealous before. Of things, yes. Of lives she couldn't have and fancy toys and plenty of food and...all the silly things she wanted on a cold night. But those things, they were simply things. The jealousy over those items was trite and meaningless. This was different. This was jealousy over a person, over a man. Over _her_ man. Scarab groaned and leaned her forehead against the wall under the shower head, letting the hot water cascade over her as if she could wash away the feeling.

She hated Bonny. Sure, there were very few people in this world she actually liked. Overall, she felt a mild distaste and general nausea about everyone else. True hatred was rare for her, but she hated Bonny. She would have killed the woman if she so much as touched Tenet. One finger and honestly, that's all it would have taken. Scarab didn't like that feeling. And then, she punched Tenet. Though she didn't feel guilty because he totally had it coming, she knew she'd have to apologize to keep the peace, something she hated to do and would truly regret. The water started to run cold, and when Tenet knocked again, she knew her time of miserable solitude was over.

"Why don't you go to bed already?" she yelled.

"Not until you come out here and explain what the hell it was I did to deserve a gut shot!"

Scarab rolled her eyes and began to shiver. Out of hot water, out of time, she shut off the faucet and stepped out. "Don't be so dramatic," she called as she toweled off and got dressed. "It was just a little punch."

"You could have damaged my spleen!"

It was so absurd that Scarab couldn't help the laugh.

"Oh. That's great," Tenet sputtered on the other side of the door. "Nice. Beat me up and then laugh at me."

Scarab sighed and opened the door. "I'm sorry I damaged your spleen. Now let's go to bed."

He caught her arm. "Oh no, not this time! I believe our marriage agreement allows me to demand an explanation for what just happened."

Scarab's eyes narrowed at him. "And I believe I'm allowed to say that I don't want to talk about it." She tugged her arm free and turned toward the bed.

Tenet crossed his arms over his chest. "No."

"No what?"

"No you do not get to cop out. Not this time. We agreed that I had the right to know why you're being a bitch to me. You punched me. I think that qualifies as you being a bitch."

"You're not making me feel any friendlier, that's for sure."

Tenet threw his hands in the air. "Why do you have to be so difficult? Forget why you punched me and just answer that. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?" Hurt flashed through Scarab's eyes and it shocked Tenet. His anger immediately dissolved into confusion. "Scarab, talk to me." He stepped closer and gently put his hands on her arms. "Please. Talk to me. Just once."

Scarab swallowed hard, pain and anger driven by fear threatening to make her say things she didn't mean and didn't want to utter. "You..." she started, only to find her mouth suddenly go dry. She tried to swallow again, mustering up her courage. "You married me." Her eyes searched for something to focus on. The lamp. The floor. The chair...anything but Tenet. Her face was already burning in humiliation and if she looked at him she'd never finish. "You can't keep talking to all these...people without making that absolutely clear. If you don't want to be my husband then don't, but don't make me look like an idiot in front of everyone else."

The words rushed out in a great burst and Tenet felt like he'd been punched again. He blinked, then blinked again with no idea what to say. The gears in his brain were turning overtime to figure out what should have been obvious. When the reason finally dawned, he was blindsided. "You're jealous," he said quietly.

Scarab huffed and pulled away, angry that he so succinctly named what she was trying hard to deny. She was jealous. And she hated it. Without any thought other than the need to get away as fast as possible, she pushed past him and strode out the door.

"Wait! Come back so we can talk about this," he called after her.

"You chase me and so help me you'll live to regret it!" Scarab bellowed over her shoulder. She heard his feet stop dead on the stairs and kept going right through the common room and out the door of the inn. She needed to get away from everyone. She needed space. She needed air. She needed to run and have the world leave her alone again.

The night was warm, but the breeze from the north had an icy crispness to it that signaled an early winter. As she strode down the main road blindly, she tried to focus on that, on survival, and not on the ball of confusion whirling inside her. She tried to make a list of the rest of supplies they needed, tried to consider the few more days of travel ahead, tried to think about what they'd need to do when they got to their new house. She tried, she really did. But her mind would not hold any of those thoughts. She reached a bend in the road that curved away from a noisy stream. It was a quiet, peaceful little place and her racing mind needed the serenity. She stepped off the road, over a few small bushes, and then sank down on the bank and stared at the water that glittered in the sliver of moonlight. What the hell am I doing, she asked herself as she felt the first sting of tears that badly wanted to fall.

She heard Fratz's familiar lumbering. Great. Just what she needed. "Go away, Fratz," she called over her shoulder.

He was huffing by the time he sat next to her. "You run too fast, missy."

"I said go away."

"I figure you be needin' a little somethin'."

She rolled her eyes. "Aw hell. Let me guess. You chased me down to offer me some deep, meaningful advice, right? Thanks, but I don't need it."

Fratz laughed. "Now I do'na about advice, but I got ya gun." He held out the butt of a weapon. "Tenet say you ran off without, and there's a powerful many cats in the dark up'na here."

Scarab's face burned again and she quickly took the gun. Great. She ran out of there unarmed. When was the last time she did that? These distractions were ruining her. Life was ruining her.

"You sure look to be thinkin' hard. If ya need the advice, I'll give it a best go."

"I don't need advice. Thank you for the gun. I'll be back later."

Fratz quirked an eyebrow at her. No one dismisses Fratz. No one. She must be really hurting if she didn't know that already. He sat in silence and studied her for a minute before completely ignoring her order. "At home I got me a wife."

"Good for you."

"She's like you."

Scarab scoffed. "Hunters aren't allowed up here."

"I did'na mean a hunter. I meant a tough nut that don't know when she lost."

Scarab's gaze flew to his. "You don't take a hint, do you?"

"No. Do'na take orders from an illegal hunter, either, so you can stop yer sputterin' and listen. Or don't. Do'na matter to me anyways you pick. But I gotta ride with ya, and I got eyes that work, so I got somethin' ta say."

The challenge in his eyes was clear even in the thin light the tiny bit of moon offered. Scarab clenched her jaw and held her tongue. Let him say what he wanted. Then he'd go away. She crossed her arms and waited.

Fratz took her silence as the only permission he'd get. "I like that boy. I think he's tougher than he look, smarter than he seem, and nicer than you an' me put together. I do'na get why he married ya, but he did and he seem happy to be yer mate."

Scarab couldn't help her scoff. "He married me because he had to."

"Ah," he said, nodding. "That settles that."

"What?"

"Why yer spittin' snakes. Yer runnin' scared that he'll leave you for the likes of a bouncy ass."

Scarab looked away and felt her heart pick up. She was that transparent? She clenched her jaw so tight it began to ache.

"I do'na blame ya. She was pretty and nice, a helluva lot nicer than you." Fratz studied her profile. She was upset. Good. Maybe then she'd be in a place to actually listen. "Ice and venom won't keep him, missy. Ice and venom most like to send him packin'."

"Maybe that's what he should do."

"He do'na think so."

"He doesn't know any better. You have no idea how he lived, all tucked away in some little bubble." She shook her head, half of her wanting to shut up, the other half wanting to get it out. "He doesn't know any different. Of course he thinks he likes me because we've been stuck together alone for so long." She turned to him then, actually feeling good about speaking her mind. It was so much easier to talk to someone who already thought so little of her. If his opinion went lower, did it really matter?

"You've seen battle, Fratz. You know that you develop a bond with your fellow soldiers."

"So you see you two as bein' soldiers?"

She gave a shrug. "How else would you see it? We've been hunted for months. You can figure out what that entailed. We almost starved, we almost died, we faced wraiths and raptors and bots..." she put her hands up. "What else would you call that?"

"A long first date," he said. Then he flashed a wide grin.

Scarab sighed. She thought he would understand. "Forget it."

"You underestimate him," Fratz said more seriously. "Okay, so he did'na know much about life before. Now he does, right? And he's in there worried about yer ass gettin' tore by a wildcat."

"Of course he cares right now. He needs me to see him to Nortaberg."

Fratz nodded slowly. "Ah, and when he don't na'more, you think he'll cut and go."

She bit her lip and looked away.

Now they were getting somewhere, Fratz thought. "My woman, she's hard. If'na for the law, she'd be a hunter. Or assassin," he said with a laugh. "But she can also be the woman who loves me through the long night. Does it make her weak to do the both? To have both sides?"

Scarab sighed. "I can't do that. I watched my father destroy lives because he...he gave too much to my mother." She stopped talking, but Fratz just sat quietly, knowing enough hardened soldiers to understand that telling sometimes took a long time. He waited her out, and eventually she did start talking again. "My father did everything for my mother. Everything. He...he used to tell us that someday we'd be lucky to love someone so much."

Fratz knew he was hearing information that Krupkie would need to know. They figured her for an ex-patriot, and now he had a feeling that was being confirmed. He also knew that if he pushed too hard, he'd never get the whole story. "We?"

"Me and my sister."

"Sound to me like he was lucky to have a woman who..."

"Lucky?" she cut in with a bitter laugh. "Lucky, yeah. Right. Lucky that he was too blinded by her to see the stupidity of..." her words cut off quickly, and Fratz waited. She knew she was saying too much to a soldier who would, no doubt, inform his superiors. Let's see if this country really has changed like they said, she thought to herself. Let me put them to the test for once. "My father stole a cow from a neighbor. My mother hated goat meat and got tired of game. To please her, he stole a dairy cow, slaughtered it, and tanned the hide. We ate beef that winter and then my mother made a stupid skirt out of the hide, and he made a belt. They flaunted their theft."

"That was'na smart," he said quietly.

"No," she agreed, venom in her tone. "It wasn't. By spring when an investigation could be launched, it wasn't necessary, since everyone in the village knew where that missing cow went. We were turned away by a people who swore they'd never do just that, then shoved out to beg for a life down south. My sister died first. She was always little and soft and bright and..." Scarab swallowed hard. "Her body gave up. I don't even remember if she made it out of the country. My mother couldn't take the guilt, so," Scarab dragged her finger across her throat. "Now we were two. The only ones left were my father and I. The one who got us into the mess in the first place, the weak man who let his emotions override common sense, and a child who had nothing to do with it at all. That's who was left to serve out the punishment."

Fratz wanted to tell her he was sorry she was treated so poorly, but knew it would sound hollow and trite. His country was a hard place to live, especially back then. She was lucky any of them lived. "Sounds like they were both ta blame."

"They were both foolish. I won't be that person, Fratz. I won't be the one to get Tenet killed because I can't say no to him." There. It was out. She said it out loud to someone else. The moments ticked by with only the babbling of the creek and the chirp of crickets for any response. She took that to mean he agreed with her. Part of her was actually disappointed in that thought, as if she was secretly hoping for a reprieve. "We should get back," she muttered eventually, feeling a heaviness settling inside her.

"Now hold a minute, missy. You can't go sayin' somethin' like that and not wait for what I gotta say on it." Fratz waited for her to settle back down on the bank. "I would do anythin' my woman asked me. If'na she want the moon, I'da get me a rope and pull it down for her. And though she's a tough bird, she be right there doin' the same if I want it. But she would'na ask it of me, and I would'na ask it if her."

"Why not?"

Fratz couldn't stop his laugh. And Scarab thought Tenet was naive? "Because that's not what love is, missy. I love my wife. I would'na ever put her in that spot. Ever." He shook his head. "You keep thinkin' yer da was foolish in love. No, yer da and yer ma was just done." He chopped his hand through the air.

Scarab frowned. "What do you mean 'done'?"

"They took food from another's mouth. Big no-no, ya? Most people would hide that cow and toss the leathers, no?" Scarab nodded. "They stole, then pranced around sayin' they stole. They was lookin' ta get out and that's the truth of it."

Scarab turned away and looked into the water. Was that what happened? She remembered her mother as tired, whenever she let herself remember her at all. Tired and always complaining. It's why her sister spent so much time escaping to float in the water whenever the weather was even remotely warm enough, and why Scarab herself was content to guard the girl from the banks all day if it made their parents forget about them. Her father was always ranting about the government. He hated the govers. He blamed them for their poorness. He blamed them for his profession, which he chose. He blamed them for their little house and little yard and sad little chickens and... Was Fratz right? Had they just given up?

Scarab shivered and drew her knees up to hug them to her. If they had just given up, then that made it all the worse, didn't it? What kind of people gave up when they had children who needed them? "I hate thinking about this stuff," she admitted bitterly.

Fratz gave her back a thump. Any other woman would have considered the action rude. Scarab knew he was being sympathetic. "It's not'na easiest thing comin' home and facin' yer past."

Scarab looked down at the rippling water below. "Enna used to tell me that there would be a time to face everything and heal," she said quietly.

Fratz nodded. "Yup. Seems about right."

"I don't want to."

Scarab sounded so much like his little daughter having a temper tantrum that Fratz threw his head back and laughed. "Seems about right there, too!"

Scarab wanted to be mad at him, but she couldn't muster up the comfortable emotion. He made too much sense for her to get pissed.

"It's okay to have a lot goin' on up in here," he said quietly, tapping her head. "But don't let it close off everythin' here," he finished, tapping her chest.

Her eyes narrowed and she groaned. "Now you're crossing the line," she said in her best warning tone. "You get that out of some lady movie or something?"

He gave a shrug, completely unmoved by the threat in her voice. "What I say might be mushy gunk, but it don't make it less true. If'na wants the boy to love you, ya gotta let him."

Scarab's frown deepened and she clenched her knees tighter to her chest. Was that what she wanted? That was insane. "You're awful sappy for a soldier."

Fratz seemed to consider this for a minute. "Bein' a soldier don't really take away from the other parts. You spend all your energy on one part of yourself, the other parts, they get mad and one day stop helpin'. I know you think ya gotta be a tough guy, an' maybe you had ta if'na wanted survival. But yer in yer new life now, missy. Yer not a hunter."

"Then what am I?" she asked softly.

"I can't decide for ya. I can say I saw the moony eyes from you ta him more times than not. Yer more than just a hunter."

Scarab didn't get angry or try to deny that. She knew she cast "moony" eyes his way. She hadn't been able to get the memory of their kiss out of her head. She also couldn't get the knowledge that Tenet had pulled away to stop eating at her, either. Or that he hadn't so much as attempted a repeat. Every night he'd chatter, then hold her, like they had out under the stars. And then, he'd simply fall asleep. There were many moments where she felt a pull towards him, an urge to kiss him again. It was such a new sensation, unfamiliar, scary, and mortifying. It was distracting her. And yet, she couldn't stop it from happening. It built a tension inside that was driving her mad.

"Life gets too complicated when there are other people involved," she said to offer herself comfort.

"Yep. Pretty much," Fratz agreed. "Ah, but what fun the complications get ta bein'!"

Fun. She snorted. How was any of this fun?

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "An' just think of the thrill in the sheets, eh?"

Scarab scoffed and shoved at his arm.

He laughed loudly again and jumped up. "I knew that would get ya outta yer funk! Come on. Time to face yer husband."

"I think I'll sit out here for awhile longer and..."

He reached down and easily pulled her up by her arm. "You be a chicken about the silliest things, missy." He didn't let her arm go as he turned and started walking up the road back to the inn. Resigned, Scarab let him lead.

"He's probably in bed by now," she said hopefully.

Fratz nodded his head towards the inn. "Nah, he's pacin' on the stoop."

Scarab looked up toward the inn and saw that Fratz was correct. "I don't know what to say," she blurted out, trying hard to keep her feet moving forward.

"Start with sorry an' take it from there." Fratz released her arm and took the steps two at a time. He gave Tenet a quick nod, then went into the inn to leave them alone.

"I'm not sorry," she said quickly as Tenet approached. Her frown deepened. That's not how she meant it to come out.

Tenet looked both frustrated and amused at the same time. "I'm not sorry, either, then."

Scarab sighed heavily. "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry I hit you. I'm not sorry I got mad. I'm sorry I'm difficult. I'm not sorry I'm not that nice, though, because being nice all the time is dangerous and if you expect me to change everything, then... what are you doing?"

Tenet had taken her hand and brought it to his mouth for a soft kiss. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you jealous."

Though her cheeks burned, she didn't bother to try and justify herself or deny the root of her outburst. "You can't be throwing yourself at people. We're supposed to be a married couple. You want that to fly, you can't be warming up to every hussy we come across."

Tenet bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Smiling at this moment would most likely be lethal. It would definitely be painful. So he bit down, hard, and hoped she couldn't see the buoyant relief and excitement he was feeling. She was jealous. No one had ever been jealous of anything he said or did with someone else. He never, ever would have thought he'd see that emotion from Scarab. Since their one kiss, he'd done as he promised himself and kept things as she wanted. He was determined that if they moved forward, if the relationship deepened, he wouldn't give her any reason to put it on him, to resent him for it. He wouldn't press. He'd wait. Off the widow weed, she hadn't so much as taken his hand of her own volition. He held her at night, and she let him, but it was merely habit for her that they'd developed on the trail together.

At least, that's what he thought.

And now, she was jealous. And she was not pulling her hand away. It may have been small, but it was enough.

"I'm truly sorry," Tenet said again. "I was just chatting. That's all."

Scarab couldn't help the scoff. "Chatting. Right. I didn't know boobs and asses could 'chat'."

Jealousy. She was seething with it. Tenet couldn't help the bubble of laughter. When she pulled her hand away, he didn't stop her, but he didn't step back, either. "If either her boobs or her ass were talking, I didn't even notice." Her eyebrow quirked. She didn't believe him. It was more than jealousy. It was insecurity. The thought sobered Tenet. "I guarantee I was not interested in anything she had to offer."

He hoped she'd believe his sincerity. Truth be told, he wouldn't have been able to describe what the woman looked like. If she was thrusting anything in his direction, he didn't even notice. He honestly was asking about the road up ahead.

Scarab believed him and for a second felt like jumping in his arms. Instead, she gave a curt nod. "In the future, just remember if we want to sell our story, we need to live it."The thought intrigued Tenet, and a slow half smile spread. Before it could make her do something she'd regret, she stepped away and went inside. "Come on. It's late and we need to cover a lot of ground tomorrow."

Tenet couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he followed her inside. They went through their usual evening routine, only that night, Tenet didn't babble like an idiot. Scarab was both glad and sorry for that. He did, however, pull her close to him and anchor his arm around her waist in a possessive action that should have pissed her off. Instead she felt a relief shiver through her.

The morning dawned sunny and clear in more ways than one. Though nothing was really settled, and they both had insecurities and unanswered questions inside, something happened the night before, something shifted. A tension that had been building between them was lifted. While neither knew where to go or what to do next with each other, they both realized that the other one wasn't repulsed by what happened between them on the widow weed.

Tenet didn't even mind climbing back on his horse. His good mood carried him up into his saddle and he almost forgot how much he hated that particular mode of travel. Almost.

Halfway through the morning, Tenet's horse decided to slow down and nibble grass. He squeezed his legs against the beast and pulled on the rein, clicking his tongue. "I'm telling you this one's broken," he grumbled.

Fratz leaned over and repositioned the reins in Tenet's hands. "You just gotta be bossy."

"I don't want to hurt him."

"Do he look hurt? Pull."

Tenet held the reins more firmly and the horse lifted its head. It snorted in consternation, but it moved forward.

"See? Firm hand. That's all it takes."

"I really am doing a lot better," Tenet defended. The first week of travel on the backs of horses had been painful and humiliating. The horse knew that Tenet didn't feel right about sitting on it and bucked as much as possible. It took Scarab and Fratz constantly issuing orders before Tenet overcame guilt and tried to take control.

"True. You been keepin' yer seat at least."

He hadn't given it much thought, but Fratz was right. He hadn't been thrown in days. He patted the animal affectionately, then looked up when he heard a noise ahead. Scarab was ducking branches. Their road had turned to more of a foot path, and half over grown at that.

"Watch the branches," she called back over her shoulder.

A smile spread across Tenet's face as he stared ahead at Scarab. She'd ridden point that day, and he couldn't say he minded being able to watch her without her knowing.

Fratz looked at the boy and shook his head. Boy had it bad. He was glad they were only a few days off from the end of the journey. He hoped the kid could keep his head in the game. The terrain was about to get steep and cold and if he spent the whole time mooning after his wife, Fratz would have to work double time to keep him from walking himself right over a cliff. He decided it was time to say something. "You best watch them branches instead of a particular ass."

Tenet's grin widened even though his face turned red again. "Don't worry about me, Fratz. We've already been through worse. At least now I'm looking at the ass and not worrying about her gun!"

Fratz's bellowing laughter echoed in the forest around them. Scarab glared back at them, making him laugh harder. "I'm bettin' it got to be close calls, eh?"

"You have no idea how many!"

"An yer ready to throw yer hat with hers for a long winter?" He winked at Tenet. "You sure you know what you in for, boy?"

"As far as living through a winter? Haven't got a clue. As far as keeping on the right side of her gun? Let's hope so!"

The trail narrowed, and they could no longer ride two abreast. They rode the rest of the morning in peaceful silence. Tenet closed his eyes in the warmth of the morning light. The late summer bugs hummed around him, the hooves of their horses made a soothingly rhythmic clopping melody on the packed trail dirt, and he could smell some wonderful flower he'd never encountered before on the gentle morning breeze. It suddenly occurred to him that he was happy. Ridiculously, foolishly happy.

They pulled up for a hasty lunch next to a stream. It was small and fast and when Tenet dipped his hand in and splashed his sweaty face, he was shocked at how cold it was.

"Mountain water," Fratz told him. "Melt out from the snow."

"There's snow up there already?"

"There's snow up there always." Fratz knelt on the edge, took a bracing breath, then bent down and plunged his whole head underwater. He came up and shook his head, giving a whoop. "Now that's home ta me!"

"You are insane."

Scarab gave a little laugh. "Best get used to it, Tenet."

"Are we living up in the year-round snow?" Snow as a novelty was one thing. Snow all year round was another entirely.

Scarab's eyebrow went up. "Losing your nerve?"

"I'm not losing my nerve," Tenet said defensively. He took the jerky she offered. He gave it a sniff and was glad that it seemed to be beef. He could handle the beef. He did not have as much luck stomaching the venison jerky she tried to feed him, and the mutton jerky was beyond disgusting. He bit off a hunk and chewed and chewed. "I just want to know what I'm in for."

"I tried to tell you to think it over," Scarab said with a tone of condescension.

"I don't know what room you were sitting in, but from where I sat, we didn't have too much of a choice."

"Yer not in year snow," Fratz said quickly, hoping to diffuse the situation before it turned into another day of sniping between these two. He had hoped their obvious new level of closeness would keep them pleasant. Apparently not.

"Good," Tenet said firmly.

"I could handle it even if we were," Scarab shot back in a haughty tone.

Fratz sighed, but couldn't help feel a little jealousy. He missed sniping with his wife like this. He wanted to go home. "If'na want to reach a good camp by night, we best move. I'm on point now."

Scarab easily let him take the lead. He was familiar with the terrain and she was not. Tenet took his place in the middle. He knew it was because he was not the best horseman. They needed one person in front to call back dangers he wouldn't even consider were important, and one behind him to watch and make sure he could handle those spots. He had given up being embarrassed by his lacks a long time ago and simply accepted it for what it was.

In late afternoon, they reached the end of the forest they had been traveling and reined in to camp at the base of a tall, craggy mountain. Tenet got off his horse and walked the stiffness out of his legs, looking up at the peak the whole time. Indeed, it was covered in snow. Snow! In the summer. "I'm really beginning to hate the mountains," he grumbled.

Fratz gave his back a thump. "We don't go over that one. We go around."

The relief in Tenet made his sore body sag. "Finally some good news!"

Scarab smiled to herself as she unrolled the tent. Back in Carlton, they sold half of their seeds for the supplies to travel. Though they did get a better price than either would have thought, especially so late in the season, almost all of that money was gone. Horses weren't cheap, and the cost of feed and boarding for them at each inn was even more expensive. They were necessary, though, especially for the last leg of the trip into mostly uninhabited land. There were no roads smooth enough for motorized transport options, and the winter was too close to risk hiking it on foot. Fratz had reasoned that they could always sell the horses on the other end if they didn't want to keep them. The same for tents. Many people chose to leave the harsh mountains for the winter season and would be looking for inexpensive travel and shelter options. Though lugging the heavy tents was a pain, the bitterness in the late afternoon breeze made her glad she listened to Fratz's advice. They'd need cover that night, not just a bedroll under the stars. She bet there would be frost in the morning.

As she set up the tent, Tenet broke out the pans and dishes. He hadn't had to cook anything for a few weeks and was looking forward to trying the wild herbs Fratz had been gathering through the trip. He got out the jerky, a bag of dried potatoes, and some dehydrated onions. Following the growing seasons, he'd never used dried vegetables before. There was always something fresh available. After he got over the novelty of it, he asked the man back at the store in Carlton for instructions on using them. The man gave him a funny look, as if he couldn't believe anyone wouldn't already know the information, but gave him a brief run down anyway.

"Cook them in water until they soften."

And that had been the sum of the instructions. Tenet got the fire going with wood Fratz gathered, then filled a pan with water from a little spring. It was also cold, even though it bubbled from deep in the earth, and Tenet wondered if everything in his new life was going to be cold. He was already wearing a heavy jacket lined with animal fur. He'd argued against it at the store, but now he knew how right Scarab was. Though he did feel guilt for the animal that died, he was more grateful for the warmth. He didn't feel good about it, but he did have to accept another fact of life in this land. If he wanted to live, he had to do what he had to.

When the water in the pan bubbled, he tossed in the onions and potatoes, a handful of Fratz's herbs that smelled like they'd work well together, and some jerky he'd pulled into small pieces. In a half hour, the stew had thickened slightly and smelled delicious. Fratz and Scarab were sitting close to the fire, both tents set up and the horses tied, brushed, and fed for the night.

"Don't never tell my woman you do the cookin', else I'll be on the hook!"

Tenet smiled and dished up the stew. "Now, I've never cooked with dried foods before, so I hope I did it right."

Scarab ate down the stew without even tasting it. She was freezing and wanted the warmth as quickly as she could get it. Tenet saw her shiver and put his bowl down. He went into their tent and came back out with her fur lined jacket. Scarab sighed. "I'm fine."

"You're shivering."

She gave a nod. "And I'll get used to it."

Tenet scoffed. "You bought this for when you get cold. You're cold." He thrust it towards her. "Put it on before you freeze your ass off."

Scarab was annoyed with him. She needed to condition herself. It's how she handled every off winter. She knew she needed to make her body remember how to handle the cold. There was no way Tenet could know this, and yet his actions annoyed her anyway. "I don't need you telling me when I should and shouldn't wear a jacket. Have you ever lived through a winter?" When he didn't answer, she gave a nod. "I've spent my whole life taking care of myself. I think I know what I need to do." Her tone made even herself cringe with it's harshness, and she instantly regretted the hurt look on Tenet's face.

"Fine," he said, tossing the coat down. "Freeze. You're so hell bent on making yourself as miserable as possible, don't let me stop you." He dumped the rest of his stew in the pot and stomped off for the tent. Long moments of silence ticked by. Fratz stared into his stew, Scarab glared at the fire. Finally, Fratz cleared his throat. "If'na plan on being dragony every night, I'm gonna start goin' ta bed with the sun."

Scarab was near tears and didn't feel like listening to another lecture or any of his mountain man advice. She threw her own bowl next to Tenet's on the ground and stormed to the tent.

"It's not about being stubborn or making myself miserable," she said as soon as she had the flap untied and opened.

"I said it's up to you," he grumbled, rolling over and refusing to look at her.

She stepped in and yanked the ties closed. "Every year your body gets used to warm. You have to make it used to cold."

"And I'm supposed to automatically know that?"

"No. But you're also supposed to remember that I did a whole lot of surviving before I met you!"

He sputtered at the ridiculousness and sat up, turning on her. "It was a damn jacket, Scarab. I saw you shiver, I got you a coat. Most women would appreciate the consideration!"

"I'm not most women!" she roared.

"No shit!"

She took a breath trying to calm herself. All of her internal arguments were bubbling over and she knew she wasn't making sense to him. "Look," she said more calmly. "Just because we're married doesn't mean you have the right to control me."

Tenet's eyes went wide. "I never thought it did."

"You can't tell me what to do. You have to let me be myself."

He just blinked at her blankly for a minute, then shook his head slowly. "You have issues, lady."

Scarab snorted. Like she didn't know that already.

"I offered you a coat. I saw you were cold, and I offered you a coat. That's it. Same as I did last week, same as I'll do next. I'm not trying to control you. I'd never even think to try and run your life. Of course I want you to be yourself."

"I don't want to rely on you," she said quickly.

Ah, the real problem. It was still ridiculous, but at least she was talking about it. Though frustrating, Tenet knew it was a good sign. Something had changed last night: she trusted him. Even if she didn't know it, she trusted him. And of course that emotion wouldn't sit well with her. If he had lived the life she did, he didn't know if he'd ever be able to trust anyone. "Scarab," he said in a calm tone. "We're in this together. We have been since the start. If I was shaking, you'd tell me to put on a coat."

"But..."

"No buts. If you don't want to wear a jacket, just tell me why. I'm not trying to control you. I would never, ever do that." He let out a laugh. "I'd worry too much about what would happen to me if I tried!"

Scarab felt the corner of her mouth twitch. Tenet patted the blanket next to him and she reluctantly sat down.

He took her hand gently. "But I also don't want to see you cold or hurting, and I'm not going to promise that I won't say anything about it. That doesn't mean I'm controlling. That just means I care. And if that's unacceptable to you, well that's just too damn bad."

He sounded cocky. It should annoy the hell out of her. For some reason, it made her feel a little better. "I don't want to lose my edge," she admitted.

"I can't ever see that happening."

"I don't want to get so comfortable with life that I ignore or miss a threat."

He could understand that even as his heart hurt for the life that would make her so scared of everything. "Is that what you were thinking about all quiet up on the trail?"

She gave a little shrug. Yes that, and a multitude of other things she'd never admit to even under torture. She felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck. "I hate feeling distracted."

His lazy smile slowly spread, his eyes twinkling. "I distract you?"

She pressed her lips together. "Don't let it go to your head."

"How about this. I'll promise to try and make myself as resistible as possible. I'll shave my beard and get a stupid hair cut and walk around making my best grumpy face." He twisted his features into a deep scowl. "I'll be utterly serious like this all day and you won't even think twice about my hot ass."

"Tenet!" Scarab warred inside between anger at his lighthearted treatment of something that was really a serious fear for her, and outright amusement.

He smiled and kissed her hand. "Or we could just realize that two heads can be better than one if you'll let them. You don't think much of your talents, do you?"

Scarab was stunned silent. How in the hell could he know that?

"It's a good thing that one of us realizes that no amount of 'distraction' could make you anything less than amazing."

Her cheeks burned. "I'm not..."

Tenet jumped up. If he stayed in the closed tent with her another second, he wouldn't be able to hold back. He wasn't ready to risk taking an enormous step backwards. "Now let's go finish our dinner." His voice sounded tight and squeaky to his ears as he fumbled with the tent ties. Finally he felt the cool rush of air over his heated body and he breathed deep with relief.

Fratz had taken himself to bed, leaving the stew and dirty dishes. Tenet picked up a bowl and filled it with stew, then dumped the remainder in Scarab's bowl. When she joined him, she wasn't wearing her jacket. He didn't want to start the fight up again, but he was honestly curious. He decided to risk her wrath again. "Do you really have to condition your body to the cold?"

Did they have to? Not in the strictest sense, no. Many didn't. Many relied on the suits to keep them warm. One winter off-season taught her that the suit wasn't always enough. "I always did." He ate and looked at her, waiting for her to explain.

"When I said your body gets used to the warm, I was serious," she explained when she realized he actually wanted to know."Your blood is thinner, your body is geared up for sweating instead of shivering, cooling instead of heating."

He swallowed a bite. "But bodies are bodies. They're designed to do both."

"Right. But you can push yourself to make that transition easier, make yourself tougher."

"Should I take my coat off?" He wasn't a fan of the idea, but he hated the cold. Hated it. If there was any way to make it easier on himself, he should do it.

Scarab considered for a second, then shook her head. "I don't think so. I think for now you should stay as warm as you can. It's not like you'll be hunting in blizzards or anything. No need to get you as tough as I had to be."

Tenet studied her in the firelight.

"What?" she asked, suddenly self conscious.

He tilted his head. "You don't have to hunt in blizzards anymore, either."

Scarab met his gaze and wondered why his simple words made her feel so unsure. She looked back at her bowl and poked at the food. "No, I don't. But my body feels the cold and I've got to prepare."

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Tenet ached once again for her, felt the weight in her words she tried to hide. He couldn't imagine the utter loneliness of being surrounded by a blizzard and knowing you'd just have to do it again and again and again... He knew nothing about hunters. Did they retire? How many years would she have kept hunting if he hadn't come along?

Scarab's thoughts ran down a remarkably similar track. Eight winters by herself. It was her life, it was habit, it was just what she did. She didn't know how to face a winter with someone else. She didn't know how to lose the hunter part and just be. She had no idea if she could do it. Tenet was right. She didn't need to condition her body. And yet, she couldn't help it. She needed to shiver and let her body remember. As painful as it was, that's what she knew. That's what she did. That's who she was.

After they ate, Scarab took her flashlight and went to the spring to rinse off the dishes while Tenet banked the fire for the night. Neither was all that tired, so they sat close and watched the flames leap into the night air. Tenet watched his breath form in front of him. He'd been in cold before. He'd even touched snow. Every once in awhile the weather would sneak up on them, and they'd have to scramble to migrate. He'd never lived it, though. There was always an out, always an escape from the inborn panic the cold brought in him. For the first time, he really thought about what it was going to mean to stay as the snow deepened. They'd walk through it. They'd be surrounded by it. There'd be no reprieve. He swallowed hard.

"What the hell are we going to do?" he whispered.

"About what?"

"Winter."

His voice sounded so lost and forlorn that Scarab bit back the sarcastic reply that almost rushed out automatically. "We'll get through it."

"How?"

"Preparation."

He scoffed and shivered. "We've got almost nothing."

"Right now. But we'll sell the rest of our stuff when we reach Nortaberg."

Tenet knew the plan. He just suddenly had to hear it, and he needed her to say it like she actually believed it would work. "You think they'll pay us enough?"

"They will," Scarab said firmly.

"You know how much food we need?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

No, of course she wasn't. But there was no way she'd admit that to him right now. "Yes, I'm sure. I've spent far worse winters than what we're facing. I'll prepare us for the worst and we'll be living fancy when it turns out to be a mild winter."

He gave the small laugh he knew she was expecting.

"Trust me," she insisted. "We'll get through. In a few days we'll be at Nortaberg and we'll sell our seeds for great piles of gold that we'll use to buy heaps of food and be safe and snug in our mansion all winter long."

Tenet's personality was starting to rub off on her. Whether she realized it or not, Scarab was taking a page out of his book. Though he knew she was bluffing to make him feel better, he appreciated her attempt at levity and hugged her close. When the call of an unfamiliar animal echoed through the night, he pulled her even closer.

"That's our cue to go to bed," Scarab said as casually as possible. Tenet didn't miss how tense she became.

He jumped up. "Is that a wildcat?"

She nodded. "Easy, Tenet. You've beaten wraiths, right?"

"Are cats as bad as wraiths?"

"No."

He didn't really feel any better about the situation when he heard another call ring out through the night. He kept his eyes to the mountain ahead and sidestepped to the tent. He added wildcats to the forming list of dangers ahead of them, and tied the knots that closed the tent flap as tightly as he could. They both slept in their clothing, just in case, and once again, a nice night was ruined by things he couldn't control.

There were wildcat tracks right through the camp in the morning. Fratz frowned and studied them, Scarab swore and checked her weapons, and Tenet swallowed hard.

"Scarab said they aren't as bad as wraiths," he mumbled, looking at the paw prints that were wider than his own hands.

"Not as smart, no. And they don't kill justa kill. They eat if'na hungry, but don't have a vendetta. But that don't make 'em cuddly."

"It got right up to my tent," Tenet said, his eyes wide and his face pale.

"Yep, sure did at that, eh?" Fratz stood and thumped Tenet. "Good thing it weren't one a the big ones." He strode off towards his own tent. "Best get a move on things so we can have us a productive day."

Tenet took their tent down and rolled it up as quickly as possible, always looking over he shoulder in case the cat decided it really was hungry. He jumped at every noise and almost had a heart attack when Scarab sneaked up on him.

"I did not sneak up on you," she insisted, giving him a bland look. "Don't let a little kitty get to you. It didn't linger. It obviously wasn't looking for anything but a path to that spring. Ease up, Tenet. I'll let you know when something wants you dead."

Tenet was glad for the sarcastic tone of voice. She seemed better that morning, more like herself. Good. He rolled his eyes at her, since that's what she expected and since he knew full well he really was being too jumpy. They packed up and chewed jerky as they rode instead of sticking around in cat territory for a leisurely breakfast.

Fratz knew a path around the base of the mountain that cut through a gulch made by some long dried up river. It was difficult traveling over the old, smooth river stones. They had to lead the horses on foot while trying to pick out their own safe route across the tops of the wiggling stones. At times it felt to Tenet as if they were getting nowhere. But by evening, they were safely on the other side of the mountain. As they ate, Fratz pointed to a glowing aura shining on the base of another mountain.

"See that on the other side the vale?"

"Nortaberg?" asked Scarab.

Fratz grinned. "Sure be, missy."

Home. Tenet stood and squinted, as if the miles between them and their new home would melt away and the dusk would lift and he'd be able to actually see anything. Home. There it was, so close. Their journey was almost over. Home! He gave a little whoop and pulled Scarab up for a quick kiss. She never showed affection in front of Fratz. Tenet knew he risked getting another sock in the gut. He didn't care. Home!

"It's right there!"

Scarab couldn't help but feel the tug of his enthusiasm. "We've still got miles to go," she said, trying to make sure at least one of them had their feet on the ground and their head out of the clouds. So much could happen in those miles ahead, especially if they let themselves get carried away.

Tenet knew Scarab couldn't help it. She wasn't trying to kill his buzz, it's just who she was. He refused to be daunted. He picked her up and swung her around. "I'll be a worrywart tomorrow. Tonight I am going to annoy you with my excitement until you get so frustrated you threaten my life, and there isn't a thing you can do about it!"

By the time he was done, Scarab was dizzy and trying very hard not to laugh. Fratz had no problems with admitting his amusement, and his deep chuckle echoed down the dried riverbed through the valley below.

"Don't you do that again," Scarab said in as firm a tone as she could.

"Yes, ma'am," Tenet said, not the least bit contrite.

"Anything could happen between here and there," she pointed out.

"Absolutely."

"A horse could pull up lame, or throw you on your head instead of your ass."

Tenet nodded, still grinning his fool head off. "That is a definite possibility."

"Or that wildcat could decide he's hungry and make a meal of you."

"That would be tragic." He gave her a wink.

"I mean it," Scarab insisted. "We're not there yet. Anything could happen."

As it turned out, nothing bad did happen. As if the Fates themselves decided to finally throw them a bone, the last ten miles of their journey were traveled in quick, easy comfort. The valley was largely cultivated for farming, with smooth, easy roads to follow right up into town. A few people worked the land, though Tenet couldn't tell what type of plants they tended. Those they passed were as friendly and welcoming as the gentle land itself. The sun was shining, Fratz was whistling a happy little song, and Tenet just felt it was right. It was right, all of it. This was home.

Fratz guided them into the town. Though not as large as Cartlon, Nortaberg wasn't what Scarab was expecting of a small town in the mountains. It was bigger and more in tune with modern life than the village where she was raised. She noticed several stores, three inns, and even a couple restaurants. To Scarab, there were signs everywhere that Nortaberg was some sort of hub. They obviously had a lot of through traffic. Perhaps it was a trade town? She wouldn't relax until they had their stores in their house before the snow fell, but she did feel hopeful about the prospects of making that actually happen.

They rode up and stopped at some sort of large, plain building. "This is the town house," Fratz explained. "Meeting hall, civic workers, that sort, for business. You gotta ask about yours, and I gotta check in with mine." He lead them inside, then spoke with someone at a large desk in the middle of the hall. The person welcomed Fratz, eyed Scarab, and directed Tenet down the hall.

"I'll meet you outside if'na officer says I'm free ta go."

They thanked him and went to the room with a sign that said "Housing". They waited until the receptionist there stopped eating a sandwich and noticed them. "What you need?" His accent was similar to Fratz's, only much thicker.

Scarab and Tenet had both agreed that Tenet should be the one to do the talking with any officials in Nortaberg. His mellow manner would put them at ease, where Scarab would only increase their discomfort with the outsiders. "Good afternoon," Tenet said, taking the lead with the receptionist. "I'm here about a position the major at Carlton recommended to me."

The receptionist looked puzzled for a second, before smacking his head. "The medic! That's right. If'na wanna follow me I'll take ya both ta the ward chief and he'll get ya started on citizen papers." The man moved quickly and waved for them to follow.

They went down a small hallway into another office room, this one with four identical desks with four very similar men bent over paperwork at each. It was an unexpected familiarity for Tenet. He didn't expect to find a fully functioning office in the wildernesses of the mountain region. Though not in suits, the workers did all wear matching clothing. The room smelled like paper and ink, and there was even a coffee maker with dirty, well used cups on a little stand in the corner. It reminded Tenet of the academy, of the hours spent in offices very similar to this while his father had meetings. It instantly set him at ease.

The room couldn't have had a more opposite effect on Scarab. Everything around them was clean and tidy. It even smelled clean to her. She hadn't had a bath since their last stop at an inn. Neither of them had changed clothes the last two days. She was overly aware of the cold of the gun and knives against her skin, and felt that everyone was looking at her.

The receptionist ushered them to one of the desks. The man behind looked up. "Yes?"

"The medic for the Celties."

The man's annoyed demeanor instantly changed and he stood quickly, sticking his hand out. "You actually came!"

Tenet shook it. "Of course we did."

"Of course you did!" The man seemed overly thrilled, and Scarab frowned. "Of course! I'm ward chief Jarvis Dalton, just Jarvis if you please. It's nice to meet you, yes it is!" He pumped Tenet's hand up and down over and over. "Look at you, actually here! Wilson, get these two some coffee." He suddenly remembered his hand and pulled it away. "Please. Sit."

Tenet looked to Scarab. She was not going to sit. In fact, she looked ready to bolt. He sat, and she stepped to stand behind him. Jarvis looked at her expectantly. When she simply stared back, he cleared his throat, resisting the urge to pull at his tight collar. He turned back to Tenet.

"I understand you are a new citizen in our community? I can't tell you how fortunate it is for us. My ward's been without any sort of trained medic for nearly two years. We'd about given up hope."

"What happened to the last medic?" Scarab demanded.

Jarvis held his smile, but the sincerity of it faded. "We'll call it ah...a...misunderstanding."

Tenet wished Scarab would back down, but he could feel her tension and knew she wouldn't. He jumped in to get Jarvis's attention. "Misunderstandings happen," he said, waving his hand. "We certainly understand that, don't we, dear?" He didn't expect Scarab to answer and she didn't. "Surely we've all had our own misunderstandings in life. Though, I admit...I am a bit curious."

The man thought for a second, and Scarab's hackles raised. If Jarvis was thinking, that meant he was trying to come up with a lie. The little voice inside urged her to run before they'd regret it. They couldn't, though. They had no time to get anywhere else safe for the winter. She'd listen to whatever he said, then read between the lines to figure out the reality. They'd figure out where to go from there.

"I suppose I must tell you that the locals have been a little...reticent to have the armed forces here. Before we got here, this place was as backwoods as it gets. We brought money and good roads and opportunity. It's been a bit of a struggle to get them to accept our ways." He sighed heavily. "Look. I'm just going to say it. They're a suspicious, superstitious, barbaric lot. We need this outpost. It's become an absolutely necessary strategic stronghold and we can't cede it back. We leave them alone, and all we ask is that they do the same. I didn't order the medic to interfere with their ways. He took that upon himself. In fact, I told him the opposite." Scarab tensed more at the defensive tone. "I cannot be expected to sit idly by and watch good people have to resort to witchcraft and sorcery for their medicines. I just can't do it."

"I see," Tenet said slowly. "So I'm here to be an option to the people?"

"Precisely."

"And you're not trying to shut down their ways?"

"Good gracious no!"

Scarab knew that was utter bullshit. Her hand that gripped the back of Tenet's chair tightened.

"What would I gain by that? Further distrust? Greater headaches? No. They can be as insane as they want. It's their choice. This is a free society after all."

"Then what happened to the last medic?"

Jarvis sat back and shook his head. "He was young and idealistic in all the wrong ways. He wouldn't leave it alone. Butted in where he wasn't wanted."

"You didn't stop him?"

"He was a renegade, Mr..."

"Lorne," Tenet said automatically.

If Krupkie had told Jarvis any different, Tenet couldn't read it in his face. "Mr. Lorne," he repeated. "A renegade. Came to me absolutely disgusted by a ceremony he'd accidentally witnessed. I sent him home with some back up, just in case the tensions turned violent. They are a violent people, you know."

Tenet frowned. "Who?"

"The Celties, of course. Surely you've been warned."

"We are aware of the Celtists," Scarab said coldly.

"Major Krupkie gave us a brief rundown of their society," Tenet rushed to say, trying to keep Jarvis's attention off his wife. He didn't like the attitude of the man any more than she did, but they needed to tow the line for now. "I understand that they've got alternative opinions."

Jarvis turned his glare off Scarab and his look got friendlier when he focused on Tenet. "Alternative opinions? You're a very diplomatic sort, Mr. Lorne. You'll probably do very well here."

"I sure hope so." Tenet gave the man he was really starting to dislike his best attempt at a friendly smile. He felt his stomach tense at the knowledge that some things up in this new world didn't just _look_ like those he'd left behind.

The receptionist brought over the coffees. "Get the papers for residence," Jarvis ordered of the man. "Anyway. Rule number one, keep your nose out of their business. Anything else you need to know regarding them, you come see me and we'll get it sorted."

Tenet gave Scarab a confused look. "Am I working for the government?"

Jarvis snorted. "Don't I wish! If I had the full backing of the government, the things I could accomplish..." he sighed and shook his head. "No. You work for yourself. I was merely extending a hand of friendship. I have a feeling as an outsider in more ways than one, you may just need it." He gave Tenet a knowing wink. "I just posted the position on behalf of the citizens of the area, since none of the other ward chiefs felt it a priority." He called the last bit loudly across the room. One of the other men made a snuffle noise, but didn't even look up from his paperwork.

The receptionist handed over a folder, and Jarvis passed it to Tenet and Scarab. "These are your citizenship forms. They're pretty self-explanatory, standard stuff for the official ward records and all. You might not work for the government, but I do." He rolled his eyes and gave a little shrug. "They want to know everything. What are you going to do, hm? So if you could follow Wilson back out, he'll be sure to help you from there..."

And with that, Jarvis went back to his paperwork. Tenet felt like laughing at the rudeness, but stood and followed Wilson. Back down the little hall they went, then Wilson turned and brought them to an empty office. "You be fillin' that out if'na could, and I'll be gettin' yer keys for yer house." He seemed friendly enough, and Tenet thanked him.

Scarab was seething. Tenet could feel it radiate off her. "Let's just get this filled out and get out of here," he said gently, hoping to diffuse the ticking time bomb of his wife's temper.

She gave a curt nod and took the papers Tenet handed her. They filled out their information, creating a new pair of people that were an amalgamation of their true selves and their fake Lorne selves. The government clearly knew they weren't really the Lornes, but Tenet didn't want to use his real last name and Scarab was determined not to so much as utter hers. It made Tenet remember just how little he really knew about her for a second before suggesting they best just stick with Lorne. He noticed that she wrote Angel as her first name. He'd never answer to Archibald, and stuck with Tenet. It was a common enough first name in Southland and New Canada that it alone wouldn't mean anything to anyone they'd encounter. They each wrote their real ages, but made up birthdays.

"I don't have one, anyway," said Scarab. She chose a date in April, and Tenet silently repeated it to himself over and over so he wouldn't forget. They listed Carlton as their point of entry, and Nortaberg as their destination, though Scarab thought that should already be obvious.

"It's just how bureaucracies work," Tenet assured her, secretly happy that he had the upper hand in this department. "Just fill out what they want and some little gover monkey somewhere who's not paid enough will stamp 'approved' on it without ever reading."

"Then all this is pointless."

"Fairly," he conceded. "Now write."

It was all standard basic information for the most part. Height, weight, physical description, known illness or syndromes, risk of contamination... "Have we been anywhere the 'flatine plague' is common?"

"No," she said, hoping she was right.

"What's the flatine plague?"

"Similar to yellow fever."

"Ah. Well, I didn't see anyone with those symptoms, so 'no' it is."

The tricky part for Scarab was the section on education, training, and skills. "What the hell do they need to know that for? Nosy bastards are getting just as bad as..."

"I'll go ask," Tenet said, knowing she wouldn't let that one drop. He went back out and asked Wilson, then came back. "It's in case the armed forces need to call up people to fight."

"Are they at war?"

Tenet turned right back around, then came back a few minutes later. "No, they aren't. But the Con fighting made them restructure the military and they realized they needed to be better prepared in case. Or something like that."

"Oh." She still didn't know what to write. She glanced at Tenet's answer. The list of things he could do filled the entire space provided and ran down the side of the page. She watched as he flipped the sheet over and kept writing. She felt even more out of place than she had in the clean room with the stuffed shirts.

Tenet noticed that she wasn't writing. He stopped and glanced over. He tapped the spot on her paper with the end of her pencil. "That's easy. Education preliminary completion..." He looked up at her. "Come on. Write what I say."

Scarab picked up her pencil, acting annoyed, yet secretly relieved. She wrote what he told her.

"Highly trained survivalist, scout, and tracker, with a storied history of working closely with local and national law enforcement."

She snorted. "That's stretching it, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "Is it untrue? No. Then write it."

Tenet was being overly kind and really reaching with how he classified her qualifications, but she felt immensely better having so much written in the blank space. They finished up and brought the forms back out to Wilson.

"Just a formality," he told Tenet again, stamping his seal on the first line at the bottom of the last page. Scarab shook her head. Poor little gover monkey. "If'na expectin' to hear back, it'll be past spring. But if you got past Carlton, it's foregone that yer one of us now." He handed over a key. "This be yers now." He then handed over a map with something circled. "Follow up'na trail and you'll get ta Ogden. That be yer village proper, the X right here." He pointed to the X on the map. "They'll help yer find the place if'na yer lost."

Wilson was friendly, even if his accent made it difficult to understand what he was saying, and Tenet thanked him sincerely. "Next time I'm in town, I'll pop in and let you know how we're doing."

"Good luck with the Celties," Wilson said. "An watch yer back. I hope ta see yers both in'a spring, so keep yer nose ta home, eh?"

After they met Fratz and had lunch at a surprisingly nice restaurant, they made plans. The first thing to do was to locate their house. It was getting late in the day for sellers and dealers, especially with fresh crops coming in. Fratz explained that morning would be their best bet for good food deals, and their likeliest chance to sell their travel kits to people looking for last minute bargains before they headed out. Also, they'd need to see what the house had and if it absolutely needed anything. The houses up in the mountains were made of wood, not the manufactured materials Tenet was used to, and Fratz made no bones about the fact that if it truly had been unoccupied for two years, then it was probably in sorry shape.

Since everyone agreed with the plan, they headed out and asked how to get to the trail to Ogden. The soldier they asked whistled low and deep, gave them directions, then wished them well. Tenet couldn't help but pick up the sympathy in the soldier's voice. He smiled, thanked him, and they were on the way.

The road to Ogden started out wide and paved. It snaked up and over the mountain, and Fratz told him it was an army built road. "They get supplied easy straight up an' over with the transports," he explained. They didn't stay on that part of road very long before the little map told them to turn. They turned on to what was barely more than a path. It lead into the woods, and in the low sun of the afternoon, they sat on their horses and stared at the dark entrance through the undergrowth.

Scarab clicked her tongue and urged her horse forward. It was eerie. It was spooky. It was dark and creepy and ominous. But most of all, it was entirely familiar. All mountain Celtists lived in deep forests. They did it for the deep connection to nature, of course, but also for the intimidation factor. People tended to steer clear of deep, dark, gnarled forests. The forest itself was usually the only defense a Celtist community needed.

Tenet and Fratz followed. As they got deeper and the light got dimmer, Fratz began to feel uncomfortable. His childhood was filled with stories of witches and the evils in dark places like this. He was grown. He was well traveled. Though his interactions with Celtists had been limited, he did know the old stories about them being witches were just that; stories. And yet, somewhere inside, the little boy shook and shivered and told him to run away before the elves and fairies and witches could eat him.

"How much further does that little map say we goin'?" he asked, unable to hide the discomfort from his voice.

"I don't know. It's not a very good map," said Tenet, straining to see the hand drawn map in the fading light.

"We'll get to a clearing in a minute," Scarab said over her shoulder.

"How do you know?"

Because all Celtists lived the same. It was part of the lore, the religion, the code. "Just trust me."

Just as she had said, within five more minutes, they did reach a clearing. It was a small, perfect circle in the middle of the forest, with seven paths converging in the center and leading off into the forest. It was another level of defense. Anyone who did not intimately know the layout would get lost and wander for days before finding their way out.

Scarab studied the map, then turned to take in the trees surrounding the path they had just traveled. She stared hard, trying to memorize every knot and bump. If she wasn't in a Celtist village, she would have notched the tree with her knife to mark a clear sign as to which path would lead them down to Nortaberg. But she was in a Celtist village, and to start off their new life with such disrespect would not be a smart idea. When she was certain she'd be able to find the right path out, she looked at the map again. The map did not indicate seven paths, only one. Of course. She doubted Jarvis had ever bothered to set foot up here himself, and anyone allowed to enter and live would have learned quickly to keep their mouth shut.

"So which way?" Tenet asked, trying to get his antsy horse to stand still.

Scarab narrowed her eyes and studied each path. She'd have to rely on her training as a hunter more than the faded memories of childhood. Some of the paths were used frequently. One was nearly completely clear of weeds, and she knew that would lead to the heart of Ogden. There was no way any outsider would have been accepted there, so that was not the way to travel. All of the rest had weed growth, to some degree. There was only one, though, that had grown up thick and untouched for at least a full season. That would have to be the way. She nudged her horse forward and they slowly went through the waist high weeds.

"I don't know about this," said Fratz, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. He kept looking over his shoulder, wondering if he could find his way out if he had to.

Tenet felt apprehensive as well, though for a different reason. He knew without a doubt that Scarab was leading them the right way. He simply trusted her to do so. But he felt odd, somehow. He felt almost as if they were being watched. As their journey continued, the forest closed in, narrowing the path and making Tenet feel like they were being lead into some sort of trap. Just when he was about to say something, they cleared the trees completely and stood in front of a small house in the center of another perfectly round clearing. He let out a deep breath of relief.

"Stay here," Scarab ordered. Neither man even thought of arguing.

Tenet watched as Scarab trotted off to the right and began to circle the house. She was looking into the forest around them, and he figured she was just making sure all was clear. He turned his attention to his new home.

He'd never seen a house quite like it. It was short and wide, made of rough, dark wood, and topped by what looked like nothing more than grass.

"It be thatch," Fratz said when Tenet asked.

"Doesn't it get wet inside when it rains?"

Fratz shook his head. "It works better than you'd think."

Tenet doubted that. It was just grass. Maybe there was something underneath? He frowned. There couldn't possibly be something underneath because the house just wasn't tall enough. The roof was pitched and rose fairly high in the center, but he knew he'd have to duck to get in the door. How would he even stand up inside?

He swallowed hard. This was his home. This was it. He'd simply have to make the best of it. It was obviously better than sleeping outdoors. It had sturdy looking walls, even if they were short. There were windows, and even though moss and vines climbed and twined over most of the building, he could tell that with a little work, they'd be able to get a lot of sunlight inside. He didn't see any windmills or solar collection trays, so he doubted there was electricity. The forest was thick around them, though. They wouldn't lack for wood to burn. All in all, it could have been so much worse. He turned to Fratz and smiled. "I suppose I'm now a home owner, hm?"

Fratz didn't know what the damn fool was smiling about. He assessed the home as someone who had grown up in one very similar and could see for himself the massive amount of work that needed to be done. Not only had no one lived here, but no one cared to keep it up. It was completely neglected for at least two winters, if not three. There were probably coonskunks and squirrels living inside, and definitely spiders and mice. Thatch was good, but it had to be kept up. He wondered if the inside would be a moldy, flooded mess. It would be amazing if there was anything left inside. An abandoned house contained excellent loot for the desperately poor, and that's the one thing this area of the country had in spades. And yet, the boy looked so excited. Fratz sighed and gave him a smile. "Could be worse," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Poor sap.

"There's a lean-to for the horses out back," Scarab said coming around the other side of the house. "No feed of course but we can stake them and let them mow the lawn for us."

"We do have free weeds, don't we?" Tenet grinned at her and followed as she lead them to the back side of the house. Aside from the lean-to and a small shed, the back looked very much like the front. They tied the horses off with the ropes they used on the trail. "I don't see any water for them."

"There will be a well inside. We can draw water up from there for now. If we decide to keep either horse we can rig up a trough." Scarab waded through the tall weeds and lead them back to the front door.

"A well inside?"

"Yes." She didn't explain further. He'd see it in a minute for himself. "Key?"

Tenet dug the key out of his pocket and handed it over, unwilling to admit he'd never used one. All the locks and security he'd ever used were digital, opened by either a code from and omni tool or a magnetic card. He silently watched her slide the key in a slot and turn. There was a click and she turned the knob and pushed. The door didn't move and she wiggled the key, then slammed her shoulder into the door. It gave with a groan and a pop, then swung open.

"Duck and step down," she said, then disappeared inside the very dark room.

Tenet followed, but neither ducked nor stepped down in his excitement and ended up hitting his head and tripping forward at the same time. Fratz's hand on his shoulder kept him from completely falling.

"I warned you," said Scarab. She took out her flashlight and shined it around the room. It was impossible to really make anything out in the quick sweep of the thin beam of light. She stopped when her light landed on what looked like a glass bowl. She walked towards it and took out her flint. After a few sparks, the bowl began to glow and light flooded the room. "Still has oil!" she said, looking for another lamp.

As she lit the lamps around the room one by one, it was like a treasure being slowly unveiled. Tenet watched in amazement as his new home became visible around them. The first thing that struck Tenet was the fact that it was much larger than it appeared from outside. He was not hunched over, but standing straight up with the pitched roof high above them. He looked at the door, then understood. The house was built partly in the ground. "Why is it sunk in like this?" he asked of Fratz.

"Makes a house stand up better to snow an' ice."

The second thing Tenet noticed was the odd mix of furnishings. There was a wooden table, and a long wooden bench. These things looked like they belonged with the rough walls and the very natural feeling of the house itself, as if they were all simply an extension of the world outside the door. However, there was also a very modern looking metal counter, some sort of food box, perhaps even refrigerated, and a com deck at a terminal station.

"They didn't take anything," Scarab said, frowning deeply.

"Then that's good news for us!" Tenet said, clapping his hands together and feeling immensely better about their situation.

Fratz and Scarab exchanged uncomfortable looks. No, it was not good news. The house had been left completely untouched. They both knew everything inside should have been gutted. No one even siphoned the oil from the lamps. The fact that it was intact meant that the locals considered this a bad place, a tainted house, a cursed lot. By some unspoken understanding, they both silently agreed to keep that bit of information to themselves.

"What's this?" Tenet asked, playing with a large metal handle in what appeared to be a kitchen area.

"That's the well," Scarab explained. She walked over and pumped a few times. There were a few sputters and belches as the water was pulled from deep within the earth, and then it flowed clear and strong. "Now that is good for us," she said. She took a handful and sipped. It tasted sweet and clean. "Very good."

Tenet was absolutely fascinated by the contraption. He pumped again and stuck his own hand under the water. "This is brilliant!"
Fratz laughed. "Let's see if'na be thinkin' so when it's winter and yer freezing yer ass off dyin' for a hot shower."

Tenet pumped a few more times, watching the water pour out into the basin and swirl down the drain. He went for a fourth when he suddenly had a worrying thought. "Will it run out?"

Scarab shook her head. "Shouldn't. I've heard of them working for a hundred years or more. They pull the water up from below the water table."

A light went on in Tenet's head. "Like an irrigation system."

"Exactly like that."

Tenet had to laugh at that. They would be irrigated like plants. It was incredibly funny to a farmer, but his companions did not seem to get the joke and he had to let it go. They poked around the other things in the room. The food container was designed to keep things cool, but Tenet could see that the refrigeration part of it wasn't wired. Still, it was metal and had a good seal. The cupboards held several plates, a few cups, and some old spices. Scarab said they'd ditch most of them but the salt and sugar, and Fratz said it was a good sign there was any food left untouched. Less chance of a rodent infestation.

They moved into what Tenet thought of as a living area. The table and long bench were against one wall, and a matching bench with cushions was against another. In the center was the terminal station, but none of them could see any way for it to be powered. "Battery," said Scarab.

"Musta been," agreed Fratz.

"Think I can get one in town?"

Fratz shrugged. "Worth tryin' at the town house. Could also try the AP on base." The appropriations department at any base would surely carry either a battery or a portable generator that could power the station. Now, whether or not the AP officer would trade with a civilian, that was another story. "I'll put a word in, if'na want."

Scarab nodded. "Thanks." It would help pass the long winter if they could have an actual com terminal for entertainment. It would also help her keep tabs. She suddenly felt better about their prospects in the cursed house.

There were three rooms that lead off the main living area. One was a bathroom, though not like any Tenet had seen. There was another pump that drained into a large basin. This would be their bath, and a quick check confirmed that Fratz was right; the water was cold as hell. The toilet ran. That was clear. There was water in the bowl, and a pipe lead to what appeared to be a large box. He stared at the toilet, then back at the box.

"It's a gravity toilet," Scarab said behind him. "There's a collection tank on the outside of the house that collects rain water. You pull that little handle and it floods the bowl. Weight and gravity pull it deep down into a pit way below the ground."

It was a fascinating concept. He'd never seen anything like it. "What happens if it doesn't rain?"

"Then you can just fill a bucket from the well water and dump it down. Or draw straws to see who gets to manually fill the tank from above."

The next room was small and empty, though it had a closet. Tenet guessed it was some kind of unused bedroom. The final door was another bedroom, this one with a large bed, a dresser, a mirror, and a large closet. They poked in every drawer and around the closet and found everything empty.

"Well he probably wasn't killed," she said when they were back in the living room, not really meaning for her words to be out loud.

"You thought he was?"

She shrugged. "It was definitely a possibility. That asshole Jarvis was being awful slippery, but it seems like whoever lived here before had time to pack up before shipping out."

"Army don't much like the Celtists," Fratz said, sitting next to Tenet on the couch. "An' they return the sentiments."

Tenet turned a searching look to Scarab. She suddenly seemed uncomfortable, as if she knew he was looking for a little peace of mind but couldn't give it. "Well, then," he said with a heavy tone. "I suppose we need to make it abundantly clear that we don't work for the army."

It might not be enough. Just living in a cursed home would be a huge mark against them. Scarab needed to get the com working no matter what. She needed to formulate an escape plan for them in case they weren't accepted. She knew they'd be left alone through the winter, if they made it that long. Winter was the time of inner reflection and guarding against outside demons for the Celtists. The Celtists would hibernate, hole up in their inner sanctums and allow their bodies to replenish with the serenity of the quiet season. If she and Tenet could just get to winter, then she'd have the time to make a new plan.

"We need to come up with our list of what needs doing," Scarab said to get their minds occupied. "Let's go around again and really look at the house. Fratz, point out to Tenet what needs repair in the rooms. I'll go outside and have a look out there, then we'll meet back here for dinner and discussion. Agreed?"

Tenet knew what she was doing, and was grateful. He wanted this to work. They needed this to work. And if he allowed himself to dwell on the hell the former medic faced, he'd make himself go crazy. First things first. He'd assess his new home. They'd eat dinner. Tomorrow they'd travel back to Nortaberg and sell and spend all they could. And then? Then they'd just have to wait and see.

Chapter 9

It was a solid week before Tenet saw another living soul in Ogden. He was out hammering lumber sides to the lean-to, trying to create a proper shelter for the horse they decided to keep for the winter. They sold his stubborn steed and kept Scarab's well trained mare when they determined any form of mechanical transport would be far too expensive for the first winter. Fratz argued that they should keep both animals, since there were two people that may need to get out fast, but Scarab knew they needed all the money they could get. In the end, Tenet settled it by pointing out that they could easily ride double on Scarab's large horse. His stubborn jerk of an animal was sold, and Tenet wasn't the least bit sad to see him go.

With the sale of the seeds, horse, and tent, they were able to buy enough supplies to require two trips to town and back to get it all home. To Tenet, it seemed like such a vast amount of food, clothing, and lamp oil that he thought they were more than ready for winter. Scarab knew better. They didn't get nearly as much as she'd hoped, especially of the food, and she decided to risk hunting and fishing. She made very sure to she was off Celtist land before she hunted. Even with permission to hunt and fish on the land, which she doubted they'd ever get, the options would be limited to animals not marked as special. She didn't need careful, considerate hunting. She needed fast and bountiful. After they spent two days with Fratz's help making certain the building was sound, she left a list of tasks for Tenet to do and she rode off to see what she could find to eat or sell.

Fratz left a couple days after Scarab, seeing that Tenet was remarkably capable at the repair work, and confident that the Celtists had decided to leave them alone. He had a long lonely trip ahead of him, and flakes were already in the air one morning. It warmed up since, but he knew that was the trap many fell into and winter would sneak up on him while he was stuck on the trail if he didn't hightail it. He left Tenet warmly, knowing that he'd made a friend and hoping the boy would live to meet him again.

Tenet's first day by himself was daunting. The house was quiet. The woods around him were quiet. The drying leaves, dark reds and golds and browns, fluttering in the chilly breeze were the only noises he heard through the open window. He got himself a small breakfast and looked across the table to the empty seat and missed his wife. He was glad for the list of chores he had to do. They'd take his mind off being alone.

One by one, he crossed things off the list. He cleared the weeds and vines. He climbed up on the roof of the lean-to in order to reach the thatched roof and patched the places Fratz pointed out with the new bundles of fresh thatch they got in town. The reeds were surprisingly strong and after only a few trips up, Tenet no longer feared that either he or snow would crash through. With the roof done, he repaired the frame of one window that was slightly rotten, then tackled a hole gnawed into the back door by some rodent. Fratz had assured him up and down that it was a fresh hole and there was little sign of vermin inside. They were lucky and nipped it in the bud before it became a real problem. The last item on the list was a better shelter for the horse. They had plenty of lumber, and Tenet enjoyed the hard work it took to saw the pieces into shape with a hand saw. By mid-afternoon, he was hot and sweating and dirty and loving it. He truly enjoyed building things.

It was when he was sitting on the roof, awkwardly holding a board in place with one hand against the new supports for the wall while he tried to hammer a nail in with the other hand, all while trying to hold on to the roof with his feet so he wouldn't fall that he saw a woman. She had made no noise approaching him and stood only twenty feet or so away. She simply stood and stared, her long gray hair that matched her heavy fur clothing whipping in the wind. For a second, he knew he was seeing a ghost. He was absolutely convinced of it and dropped his hammer, board, and nail.

"You don't belong here," she said with a slight lilt in her voice.

She was no ghost. "This...this is my home..." he stammered, trying to push himself up without falling off the roof.

"This is no man's home."

"It's mine. I've got the key and everything."

"You carry the key to hell itself then, foolish boy."

Tenet frowned. This was not going well. He turned and climbed down the slats of the lean-to. "I think before you decide that I'm foolish we should have a proper introduction." He turned with his hand out, but she was gone. He looked around, but couldn't tell where she went. "Hello?" His voice bounced off the forest and echoed back to him. He walked around the house completely, calling his hellos as he went. There was no answer, only the rustling in the wind like before. He stopped when he was back in front of the lean-to and scratched his head. Had he imagined it?

He was not one to believe in ghosts. He was not exactly closed off to the idea, per se. He'd just been raised to believe in the foolishness of that type of thinking. There was no science that said they were real, so they were assumed to be stories. The same went for all fairy story creatures and beings. It was scientifically impossible for a humanoid to grow wings and call itself a fairy, ergo it simply couldn't exist. He didn't believe in any of that, wasn't superstitious, and firmly knew that logic was the true miracle in life.

However, as he climbed back up on the roof for the second attempt at nailing in the difficult board, he couldn't help but wonder why that woman had frightened him so badly. He was shaken up. He couldn't deny it. There was something almost mystic about her, and no matter how much he tried to reason with himself the rest of the afternoon, he couldn't shake the shiver of fear, or the memory of his gut reaction to her. As he lay in the bed by himself through the dark night, he strained to hear any signs of her return and wished again his wife was home.

Tenet woke up groggy and in a bad mood the next morning. He'd gotten little sleep, and the bits he'd snatched here and there were filled with disturbing dreams. He drank a greedy second cup of coffee, hoping that would make his hazy funk lift. It didn't. Neither did the dark, foggy morning outside. He'd finished his list of repairs and was tempted to call it a day before the day even really began. The only thing that stopped him was the memory of the long, tortuous night. He wasn't excited about the prospect of spending the entire day in the same manner. He sighed and looked around the yard for something to keep him busy. Wood. They had no wood for the fireplace in the living area or the cooking stove. They'd definitely need a lot to last for the winter.

Tenet grabbed his saw and the brand new ax Fratz had given them as a house gift, and studied the woods behind the house. It was thick and deep and each tree looked like all the others to him. He couldn't go far or else he'd be hopelessly lost. An idea struck, and he went back inside and found a length of rope. He tied one end to the support pillar of the lean-to, and the other end to his belt. It wasn't very long. He'd only get about twenty feet deep into the woods. Still, it would at least let him explore a bit without getting lost. He picked a gap between the trees and entered.

He pushed through the thick twist of brambles, weeds, and broken branches, the forbidding undergrowth of the deep forest. He went until the rope tugged at his belt and then stopped and looked around. He leaned back and looked up into the tall canopy far overhead. There was certainly plenty of wood to be had, that was for sure. Just one of these trees would probably be enough for the winter. He put his hand on the trunk and marveled once again at how different everything in this new life was for him. In their New Canada lands, they had similar trees to these, though much shorter and much more gnarled. In Southland, they'd had nothing but palms, short mesquites, and cacti. These trees were tall, straight, and their bark was thick with sticky stuff oozing from the places where dings and nicks marred the skin. He pinched a roll of the sticky stuff between his fingers. It would make excellent glue. He sniffed it, and the smell was very pleasant, so he decided to see what it tasted like. He spat it out quickly. Smells good, tastes bad, he told himself. He made a mental note to never try that again.

Tenet rubbed the rough bark and considered cutting this tree down. It seemed a shame to cut such a tree. He didn't use wood in his old life because there wasn't a reason to. Trees weren't sacred or anything, but he'd never actually cut one down before. It seemed almost a shame to bring down such a great beauty. He looked around at the fallen branches and dead wood around him. He didn't know if there'd be enough, but he decided to start with that and then see. If he didn't have to cut down a tree, he'd prefer not to. He followed his rope back to the lean-to and placed the ax and saw inside. He'd start with what he could drag out and cut it in the clearing of the yard where he had room to work.

By afternoon, he had removed his shirt, brambles be damned. The work was hard and hot and he'd face a few scratches if it meant he'd be slightly cooler. Trying to get the dead wood out of the tangle of undergrowth was slow going. It seemed as if the forest itself fought to keep the pieces of its fallen brethren. At least, that's how Tenet saw it after only a little while. He believed the forest was against him. Part of him knew he was just hot, tired, and lonely, that he was making things up to keep his mind busy. He didn't care. He went with it. Bitching and griping at the forest, swearing at the trees he bumped into or telling the bramble how rude it was to scratch him made the experience pass faster. He worked against the enemy until it was nearly dark. He stood and looked at the pile he'd dragged out and knew that it only looked large because of the unevenness of the branches. Once he broke it down, he knew it would be a depressingly small amount of wood and nowhere near enough for a week, let alone the winter.

Tenet sighed heavily. "But it's a start." He grabbed his ax and saw, ate a quick dinner, and collapsed into bed with his pants and boots still on, utterly exhausted.

The next morning, he was in a better mood having been too tired the night before to bother with nightmares. He drank a quick cup of coffee, crunched down a handful of dried carrot slices without even rehydrating them, and then got back to it.

By early afternoon of the second day of wood gathering, Tenet had a large enough tangle of branches that he needed to start breaking them down and cutting up the larger pieces. He worked at that until dark, then again through the next morning. The pile was actually bigger than he expected, and he felt a renewed sense of hope as he set off into a different area for a fresh pile of dead wood. He saw a large tree had been downed and felt the excitement of such a valuable discovery. He surged forward and almost reached it before the rope tugged at his belt. He frowned and turned. He could just about see the house. If he stomped around and pulled up some bramble, he could easily find his way back. He followed the rope to the lean-to, got the ax, and began chopping a path through the spiky undergrowth. When it was cleared, he untied the rope and brought his ax to investigate the tree.

The fallen tree was huge and mostly intact. Though it no longer had any needles, it also had no visible rot. It couldn't have lain on the forest floor for very long. He stood on top with his feet spread and brought his ax down, grinning when it bounced back off the firm, hard wood. He rubbed his hands together and got a better grip on the handle, then swung. This time he was ready for the hard impact, and the ax head bit into the bark.

He worked and chopped until he was too sore and tired to do any more. He had cut several large sections that he figured he'd be able to pull out with a rope. He'd break it down more where he had room to move, just like the rest. He looked up and rolled his aching neck. He'd never worked so hard in his life, and oddly, it felt good. He wondered again if he would have been able to do this kind of work just a year ago. He knew the answer and was deeply satisfied by the personal change.

Tenet rolled his shoulders and decided to call it a day. He turned and jumped down then froze. The woman was there. She stood only a few feet away this time, in the clearing he had made in the bramble.

"Hello," he said after an uncomfortable silence.

"Why are you chopping dead wood in my forest?"

He saw no alternative than to answer honestly. "My wife and I need wood to heat the house through the winter."

"But why are you chopping dead wood?" The woman's eye held some kind of challenge. She placed her palm on a tree next to her. "Surely you would be best served with the wood this sister can provide?"

Tenet didn't know what the woman was getting at. Perhaps she was insane. "There was a dead tree on the ground. I thought it was best to use that wood."

"And when that is gone?"

He shrugged. "I suppose in a forest this thick I'll be able to find another dead tree pretty easily."

The woman's eyes narrowed and her lips pinched together. "The one before you took the sisters from the forest. You expect me to believe you'll be any different?"

The trees were important to her. He should have guessed that before. Of course they would be. Hadn't Scarab said the religion was based around nature? He was immensely glad his guilt at the thought of cutting down a tree he liked to look at had made him opt for dead wood instead. "I will be different," Tenet assured the old woman. "I was a farmer. I appreciate flora. There is no sense in taking something living if there's an alternative."

"Hm." Her stern expression didn't soften, but Tenet could see in her eyes that she was considering what he said.

"My name is Tenet Lorne," he said, offering his hand. She didn't even glance down at his outstretched hand, and he slowly withdrew. Okay, so not the friendly type. "I suppose I'm the new medic around here."

"We don't need your medicine. We have our own."

His mind raced to think of the diplomatic responses. He did not want this woman angry with him. He doubted they'd ever be friends, but if he could at least set her mind at ease a little bit, then maybe they wouldn't be enemies. "Good. I was actually hoping to learn some of your methods." He noticed the surprise in her eyes, even though her face remained stoic. "I was taught by my mother, but only know southern tribal healing. I don't even know if you've got the same herbs up here as we had." He gave a little laugh. "Frankly, I don't really think I'm cut out for the job at all. But our options were pretty limited."

"I don't teach healing to outsiders," she said firmly.

"I understand. My mother never shared her tribe secrets with anyone, either."

"Why are you here, boy? It sounds to me like you're a long way from your people."

"I have no people anymore," he answered honestly.

She scoffed then. "Then I know you are lying. No tribe that I know of forgets their own."

"They do in Southland." Her eyes flashed at that. "They wrote my mother off for marrying into a different caste. I've never even met them, though I can assure you I'm very familiar with their healing."

She looked like she was trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. "Do you know who I am, boy?"

"A Celtist, if I'm not mistaken."

She was intrigued. He said Celtist, not "Celtie" or "witch" like the army tended to call her people. "And that does not scare you?"

"Not really."

She held up her hand and pointed a finger at him. She chanted a few words and judged his reaction. When there was none, she was even more intrigued.

"What language was that?" he asked, hoping he wasn't being rude.

"An ancient one we use to put a hex on intruders," she said almost fiercely.

Tenet suddenly understood. She was trying to frighten him off. "It sounds very lyrical."

She frowned deeply. "You have been cursed. Do you not understand that?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. But since I've been cursed for a few months already, I don't believe I'm in any worse danger."

That surprised the hell out of her and if she wasn't still leery of this newcomer, she probably would have laughed. He had guts, that was a fact. "Where is the girl?"

So they had been watched. He hadn't just imagined the eyes on them. "She went to the far side of Nortaberg to hunt."

"The woman hunts and leaves you behind to talk to bushes?" She had fully intended to come and scare them off. She saw the coldness in the eyes of the woman and the big soldier, and the septad believed they needed to be rid of these people as quickly as possible. Two beautiful years of peace were not going to be shattered by any more of the army's lackeys. "Why is she hunting in Nortaberg? Haven't our forests proven their bounty?"

It was another test, only this time it was one Scarab had prepared him to handle. She hammered it into him over and over that if anyone asked, anyone at all, he was to make it absolutely clear she was on the far side of Nortaberg and off Celtist land. "She's hunting where she has permission."

This truly surprised the woman. She was stunned silent for a minute. "And...the soldier?"

"He's gone," Tenet assured her. "He was our escort from the Southland border. I suppose the army wasn't sure if we were going to cause trouble or not."

"And when will he return with more?"

Tenet was uneasy with the level of bitterness in her voice. "He won't be back, neither will other soldiers. It's just Scarab and myself."

"There will be more," she insisted.

He shook his head. "I can't promise you anything, but I really don't think so. At least not for more than to cart me off." How could he explain without explaining too much? "I said I had no tribe anymore, and I don't. I don't because they didn't want me to live any longer. So we came here hoping to have a chance at life. We didn't pick this house. Actually, if you want to know the truth, I think the government just stuck us here where we'd be tucked out of the way. They don't like me and I can't say as I like them. Well, all but Fratz. He's treated us real kindly and I think he's a good man."

"I see." She didn't, not really. Perhaps further investigation would clear things up. For now, she needed to go and meditate on what she had learned, and report to the septad. She didn't see malice in this man. She also didn't hear anything in his words that raised her alarms to say he was lying. He didn't tell his full story, but he certainly told more than she would have expected. Her dealings with the army usually followed a set pattern, and this was something completely different. Yes, meditation and discussion. The time of rest and reflection was drawing close, and it would be a relief to the entire community of they could have the peace of knowing the demons weren't already among their numbers.

"You have my permission to continue to remove dead wood from the forest." She held up a gnarled finger before he could thank her. "The sisters, they speak. If you take one swing on a living member, you will meet the same fate as the one that went before you."

Tenet swallowed hard and nodded. "Rest assured, I have no plans on harming anything here."

"We shall meet again when my septad has decided if you deserve shelter within our number."

"Thank you, ma'am."

She pressed her lips together again and thought for a second. "Mirvena. I am the priestess Mirvena."

He smiled. "Nice to meet you, Mirvena."

"Get to your shelter boy. A storm is coming."

Tenet frowned and looked at the sky above the treetops. "It doesn't look..." She was gone again, and before he could look for her, the tree tops began cracking and swaying in a sudden wind. He put his head down and ran for the house, managing to get almost to the door before the sky opened up and unleashed its torrent.

Once inside, Tenet closed the door firmly behind himself, then slumped back on it for support. As he wiped the rain off his face, he wondered if he said and did the right things. Scarab would probably be pissed at how much he told the old woman. He definitely knew she'd take the hexing seriously. He walked into the kitchen and put a pot of water on to boil some vegetables for dinner, then sat heavily in the chair and thought over the encounter. He wished he knew more about the Celtists. Was it good what happened? It had to be. He got a name, and permission. Aside from the hexing, which he felt strongly was no more than an attempt to frighten him, it seemed to go well.

Right?

Scarab would know. Where the hell was she? She said she'd be gone a few days. It was now day five without her. He should have been more clear on when she'd get back. What if something happened? Tenet ate his dinner and washed in the icy well water, listening to the storm rage and blow outside and couldn't get his mind off Scarab. She knew what she was doing, he reminded himself. He stared out the window at the flashes of late season lightning that cut through the darkness. Surely she'd spent worse nights. She was near the town. She could stay at an inn. They had an inn, right? He tried to convince himself that he definitely saw an inn and she'd surely be smart enough to hole up there if she needed to.

If she made it to town.

If she wasn't being stubborn.

If she'd just reach out and ask for shelter.

Tenet went to bed, but couldn't sleep. He lay in the dark and listened as the storm finally wound down late in the night. And still he couldn't sleep. The bed felt very empty. _He_ felt very empty. He missed her. He worried about her. He just wanted her home.

Chapter 10

"Hello?" came a high pitched voice.

Tenet put his ax down and stood. "Back here," he called.

"My what an incredible amount of work he's done! You must admit he's done a lot of work, Mirvena."

Tenet jumped off the last enormous chunk of the fallen tree and quickly put his shirt on. He didn't recognize the voice, but he knew it had to belong to another member of the community. He got the buttons fastened just before a young woman appeared on the path, Mirvena right behind.

"Hello!" she said, sticking her hand out and approaching him. "You must be Mr. Lorne. Welcome to Ogden! My, you've been busy. I was just telling Mirvena it's amazing how busy you've been, wasn't I, Mirvena? Just look at this path! And that whole tree, almost chopped to bits already, and it couldn't have been more than a couple days at that. You must have experience in the forest, Mr. Lorne. Don't you think so, Mirvena? When Mirvena told us of you taking over the old Pierce place, I must admit I was shocked. Well we all were! It's cursed, you know. Truly. But you're here, and fine. And I cannot see a hint of the pox on any part of you. Of course, it's a woman who would be more susceptible, I suppose..."

The woman spoke a mile a minute, all the while pumping Tenet's hand furiously. He was highly intrigued by the differences between the two women who stood before him. She was dressed in the same manner as Mirvena, in furs and soft boots, her hair long and flowing in the wind. That's where the similarities stopped. Where Mirvena's face was hard and weathered, this woman's was young, fresh, and smooth. Her eyes were dark, where Mirvena's were unnervingly light, and her hair was nearly jet black. And yet, there was something about the two women that made Tenet believe they were family.

"Stop yammering, Gwyn. You give me a headache." Though the words themselves were harsh, they were said kindly.

Gwyn grinned. "Sorry, Mirvena. I do tend to babble on and on, don't I?"

Mirvena sighed heavily. "Get on with it."

Gwyn turned back to Tenet. "Oh, right! I'm Gwyn. I'm the historian of the septad and when Mirvena told us of your origins, I knew I must come and speak with you. A Southlander here among us! What you could add to our chronicles is mind boggling."

So they wanted stories of a foreign land, did they? Tenet smiled. "I would be happy to answer any questions you have."

Her eyes lit up and she shot a triumphant look at Mirvena. "See auntie? I told you he'd be willing to narrate."

Mirvena's lips were pressed tightly together. "You are too quick to trust the narrations of a stranger. Nothing gets added to the chronicles until his veracity is confirmed."

Gwyn rolled her eyes. "Of course not. But you already know he's told the truth so far."

Tenet quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. This interaction was proving very interesting.

"So far," Mirvena grudgingly admitted.

"And really, what has he to gain by lying, hm? And even if he does lie in his narrations, I can simply add a note in the chronicles that lets the future know he was simply spinning stories. Honestly, auntie, you worry too much. It's a narration, and the only one from a Southlander, I'll remind you. Why, all we know for fact about them is the lies the army men told us, right? Right. So, Mr. Lorne, what day would you like to sit for the first narration?"

Tenet had no idea what that would involve. "I...uh..."

"Can't you see the boy's busy, girl?" Mirvena gave a firm nod. "Deep winter. He won't have anything to do then but count snowflakes anyway."

Gwyn was undaunted in her enthusiasm. "That's a good point. I wouldn't want to take him away from his work."

"Or ours," said Mirvena. She finally turned her attention to Tenet. "You have no solar collector."

Tenet blinked, thrown by the change of topic. "Uh, no. No we don't."

She nodded firmly. "Then you will accept our offer of a trade."

Apparently Tenet was just a bystander in the planning of his life. He would sit for a narration, whatever that was, and he would trade with them, all because they said so. He should have been annoyed, but found the whole thing almost comical. Even if they were using him, it was better than hating him, and he took the whole thing as a good sign. "I have nothing to trade."

"You have a strong back and a big stature." He quirked an eyebrow and waited for her to explain. "Mordin is in need of wood for the winter."

Gwyn interrupted to explain. "See, he's elderly, our Mordin. And, uh, less than friendly."

"He's senile," Mirvena said bluntly.

"He's...not himself these days," corrected Gwyn, clearly trying to shed a kinder light on Mordin.

Mirvena scoffed. "He pinches asses and yells at the girls who try to help."

The picture was getting clearer. "So you want me to help chop wood for a senile old man that may pinch my ass and will probably definitely yell in exchange for a solar collector?"

"He's really not so bad..."

"Of course he's so bad!" Mirvena scoffed. "Why do you think our own men won't help? He's managed to offend and injure half the community."

"Then why help him?" Tenet didn't mean to be rude, but it really was a very good question and he believed Mirvena respected directness.

"Because he used to be great. We don't cast out our people just because of something they can't control." Mirvena gave Tenet a pointed look and he knew she was drawing the lines between his culture and hers, subtly instructing him on the ways of her community. He knew that was definitely a good sign.

"He's very orthodox," said Gwyn. She wanted Tenet to know exactly what he was in for. "You'll probably have to listen to lectures and conversion speeches. You'll definitely have to work fully clothed, which you should anyway, by the way. It's far too close to winter to be working with a shirt off. That's inviting infections in to your lungs, you know..."

"Gwyn!"

Gwyn sighed. "Sorry, Mirvena."

"Well?"

Mirvena and Gwyn both stared at him expectantly. There was no way he could afford to refuse. The solar collector was a surprise. He didn't know these mountain people would have anything like that. And he and Scarab sure could put it to good use. But more than that, he knew this might be the only opening he'd get into the community. Mirvena believed what he had told her. He would have known that even if Gwyn hadn't said. She wouldn't be here again otherwise. And the look on her face said that she clearly knew he would take the trade. She was giving him a smug look that almost dared him to refuse. He fought back a smile thinking of how well this woman and Scarab could get along if they could get over their stubbornness. "I would be honored to help a revered member of the community."

Gwyn grinned warmly, but Mirvena scoffed. "Don't you go saying anything like that to him. The last thing he needs is someone confirming his fantasies of grandeur!" She gave Gwyn a nod. "Let's go and let the boy get back to his own work." Mirvena turned and started walking back the way they came. It was the first time Tenet actually saw her leave, and he was tempted to watch to see if she'd disappear in a poof of smoke or a flash of light.

"I'll meet you here tomorrow morning and lead you to Mordin's," said Gwyn.

"I'll see you then," Tenet replied.

"It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Lorne. I look forward to our narration sessions. Please feel free to..."

"Get to it, girl!" Mirvena snapped.

Gwyn rolled her eyes. "Tomorrow," she said with a nod before she turned and trotted after her aunt.

Tenet stared after them until they turned off the path and disappeared from view. Then he stared at the empty path for awhile after, his mind turning with all the new information. The chilly breeze snapped him from his reverie and he went back to his job. By evening, the entire tree had been chopped into burnable sized logs and stacked as neatly as possible under the eaves of the house on two sides. He still didn't know if it would be enough for the winter, but for now, it would have to do. He ate his meal and tried to turn his mind off to get a good night of sleep before what would no doubt be a long and interesting day.

In the morning, Scarab still hadn't come home. He hesitated to leave in case she came back and needed him, then laughed sadly at his own thought. She didn't need him. Still, he dug up some paper and a pencil and wrote her a note letting her know where he'd be. He took one last swig of coffee, then stepped out the door to find Gwyn already waiting for him on the path at the edge of the forest.

"Good morning!" she called in her high, sing-song voice.

"I'm sorry, have I kept you waiting? You should have knocked on the door."

She shook her head. "Oh, no. I won't go near that house. Besides, it's a lovely morning to stand with the sisters and welcome the sun."

Tenet reached her side and she turned and began walking. "Mirvena's not with you today?" he asked, looking around.

"You were deemed less of a threat than Mordin. I was the one to gather wood for him last year, and I lived through that. If you decided to be any less than a gentleman, I've proven I can handle the situation. Are you truly from Southland? Oh, that's a silly question and I know it. Of course you are else you'd have a much thicker citizen file." She glanced sideways at him. "You look surprised at that."

"I just...I didn't know you'd have access to any kind of file on me."

Gwyn laughed, where he knew Mirvena would have taken offense. "We aren't backwards, Mr. Lorne. I know what's said about us. We're old fashioned hill people, stuck in the past, barbarians. We are old fashioned in our clothings, and our religion is certainly ancient and respected. But that doesn't mean we can't also take advantage of modern conveniences when we see fit. True, there are some orthodox members..."

"Like Mordin," Tenet said.

"Yes. They stick to old ways. And I mean, old old ways. Not simply pre-impact, but pre-mechanics. We're talking a breath away from caveman living. They believe it's honorable, a way to truly bond with the earth. But isn't a metal machine a greater homage to the power of the ore the earth provides? Okay, so perhaps it's not a greater homage," she said answering her own question. "But equal, surely. There's no harm in their thinking, though, and it's actually very good to have such differences of thought in a community because that breeds acceptance and the combinations of new ideas that one tenet alone simply wouldn't. Tenet. Huh. Is that why you've got your name? Was your family deeply religious?" Tenet opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. "Listen to me trying to get your narration before it's allowed. Forget I asked such a personal question out of turn. I didn't mean any offense."

"I didn't take any," Tenet said quickly. It was clear if he wanted to get any words into the conversation, he'd have to act fast when she paused for breath, which, to him, didn't seem often.

"That's good, because the last thing I want to do is offend you and make you sorry you agreed to narrate for the chronicles."

He had to chuckle at that. "I don't remember agreeing. I'll do it, of course. I just didn't feel the priestess gave me much of a choice."

"Of course not. That's just the way Mirvena is. Priestess of the septad is a very difficult position, especially when there's a newcomer. You can't think badly of her for her abruptness. She's simply got so much weight on her shoulders that there isn't time for friendliness. Trust me, you've already been offered more friendship from her than I've ever seen her show any other outsider."

Tenet frowned. "Why?" It was the question he'd been kicking around all night.

Gwyn shrugged. "She is an excellent judge of character. She needs to be. We need her to be. Besides, like I've already said we've found nothing contradictory to your story, right down to the soldier who had orders to escort you here and then leave you to your own."

"You don't trust soldiers."

Gwyn's face looked shocked that he'd even ask that. "Would you in our position?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't know your position."

Gwyn thought that through for a second. "You met with that Jarvis demon. Certainly you know he's not to be trusted."

"Yes, we figured that. I had a hard time keeping my wife from taking a swing at him."

Gwyn said nothing about that. "Jarvis has been trying to get rights to our springs for water for his crops. He's spent the last ten years trying everything he could to gain our trust. He won't get the springs or the trust. He can't. If you knew his military record, you'd see he's as corruptible as they come. He claims to be working for the government, but he's only working for himself. If we allowed him one foot on our land, he'd take it all. He's already ignored the governmental warning about our tribal boundary. It's what got him demoted."

Tenet was surprised to hear that. "Ward chief is a demotion?"

Gwyn laughed. "Mr. Lorne, being a ward chief for the government simply means that he is little more than an accountant. It's a fancy title for a job that has no power whatsoever."

That explained a few things, not the least of which was Jarvis's air of self importance. He used to be great, no matter what he was now. "What position did he used to have?"

"He was a lieutenant with the armed services. It was his assignment to create the trade road over this mountain. Early in the assignment, he tried to cut a swath through our forest without permission, even though he had already been told it was sectioned as sanctioned land. He was demoted and stationed in Nortaberg as punishment."

It didn't sound like that much of a punishment, in Tenet's opinion. "It's not bad there."

"It's nice now," Gwyn clarified. "But you should have seen it ten years ago when he first got there. That was before the main roadway was built and all the commerce flooded into town. Cut the population by two thirds, the businesses by even more, and you had a very fitting jail for a city born big shot."

"So he built up Nortaberg?"

Gwyn laughed. "No. It would have built up as a trade center with or without Jarvis. It already had been a stop over point. The good road just made it all much easier. But just because he didn't build it doesn't mean he didn't get rich off it. He's only a pencil pusher, but he's a rich pencil pusher. He's got it in his head that with enough money, he can buy his way back to the military path."

"Why would he want to do that? Clearly he's got an easier life now than that of a soldier."

"Easier, maybe, but definitely a dead end. The only way up in politics in this country is a solid military career. He believes that enough money can buy him a pass on his transgressions. And the way to money is crops and livestock. He's maxed out on his capabilities in both departments, so he's trying to find a way to reap our riches. Water, land, lumber, grazing fields...Honestly, if we cared about national power, our resources would buy us a pretty fancy throne. Watch the roads here," she said, changing tracks.

Tenet looked around. He'd been so engrossed with their conversation that he didn't notice they'd reached the central circle with the eight paths.

"Quick, which is the road to Nortaberg?"

He looked at the seven other pathways in front of him. He stared hard, looking for any little sign, but after a minute gave up. "They all look the same."

Gwyn nodded. "Yes they do, if you do not know what you're looking for. Let me show you how to tell what goes where." She walked to the center where all the paths met. "Come here and look." He joined her and they slowly turned in a circle. "Every Celtist community has the same layout, though they will not at first appear that way. Some use circles, like we do. Some squares, some diamonds...it depends on the history of the septad and the surrounding environment. We are a circular community. Surely you noticed that your clearing is shaped in a circle?"

"Yes."

She nodded again. "Now, though the shape is different, everything else will be the same no matter which Celtist community you visit. It will be in this layout, one road leading in to the center of the shape and branching off into seven possible paths. Each path will lead to a shaped neighborhood or, in your case, a single house. To decide which way you need to go, you must remember the look of the roadway leading out of town. Like I said, there will only be one. And if you study the trees around it, you can easily tell it is different. They have been marked. See if you can figure out which is the proper one."

Tenet turned slowly, looking at the trees to see if he could notice any differences.

"Look hard, Mr. Lorne," Gwyn said. "Remember, the differences will be subtle to those who do not know they exist."

Tenet continued to stare at the trees around each path until his eyes stopped on one. There were no branches on the side facing the center. He turned and looked at the others. They had no branches hanging over the path, but they did have branches pointing to the center. He turned back and pointed. "There."

Gwyn smiled. "Well done, Mr. Lorne!"

"Please, call me Tenet."

"No, you're wed." She didn't explain what that had to do with anything. "You see it now, how clear it is when you're told to look for a difference? It will be the same no matter what Celtist village you visit. In the warmer lands, it will be cacti. In the colder lands, different styles of trees. But there will always, always be a sign of unwelcome. The sisters of the community will not reach out a friendly arm in welcome from the outside world. Remember that."

He would make sure to remember.

"If you should forget, simply look down." Tenet quirked an eyebrow and looked down. "While it looks as if the paths are evenly spaced, they actually are not. A trained eye can easily see the extra space around the one leading out."

He had to laugh. She was right. All the signs were incredibly clear once he knew how to look.

"Now, this is absolute secret. I'm trusting you, Mr. Lorne, and I firmly believe you have lived a life that earns that trust. However, it is time to be completely serious." Her face changed, then, and now there was no mistaking the family ties with Mirvena at all. "Should you betray this trust, we will find out and you will not live to betray us a second time."

Tenet swallowed hard. Though he had absolutely no plans on betraying them at all, the quick change in this woman was startling. "I would never do that. Your secrets are completely safe with me."

She assessed him for another minute with her piercing glare, then smiled and nodded. "Good! I needed to get that said and out of the way before we proceeded. You understand. Now, how do you know where to go from here? How do you get back to your house? How do you get to any others? It's really quite simple." She stood in the center again, her back to the path leading to Nortaberg. "Pay attention, now. This will also be the same in every village.

"As you stand with your back to the pathway out, directly across from you will be the defensive center. Since it is the most likely path an intruder would take, it makes sense to put the warriors there. However, it is also the way to run for help. They will kill an enemy, but they'll also help a friend."

Tenet's eyes went wide. "How will they know the difference?"

"They're not morons, Mr. Lorne," she said with a wry smile. "Someone running in screaming for help is different than someone sneaking in holding a weapon."

Tenet chuckled at himself. "Fair point."

"The path to the left and the path to the right will lead to the merchant and community areas. Stores for trade will usually be on the left, and civic centers will most often be to the right. Since this isn't always true, though, you may have to take a connecting path. You'll find those well marked with clear signs, though."

Tenet was surprised at that. "Like real signs, or more branch language?"

She laughed. "Real signs. If an enemy has gotten that far into the community, then it's a little too late, isn't it?" She had a point. "And the paths on the outside will lead to homes, farms, and grazing lands."

"There's only one home on my path."

"And it's good to remember that," she said. "Usually you'll find the same. One path will lead to the beginning of the connected neighborhoods and farms, and the other will lead to the house for those who have been...less than model citizens, shall we say."

"Oh."

"Mirvena said we do not cast people out. We don't. Not technically. They're still offered the protection of the town. But that doesn't mean we want to be around them."

He frowned. "So I'm living in kind of a prison?"

She shrugged. "It used to be before we abandoned it to the army's con man. I'll explain, but let's get moving now. We've got a lot of work ahead of us." They walked down the path that Tenet now knew would lead to the neighborhoods. "The man who lived in the house before you pretended to be an outcast Celtist."

"Wait a minute. You just said you don't cast your people out."

"We don't. But sometimes people grow unhappy and make themselves wander without a septad. They do it to themselves. He presented the perfect picture of a disenfranchised Celtist, and we offered him the shun house. It was empty, and he needed to prove himself before we allowed him entry into the community proper."

Tenet saw where this was going. "But he was really working for Jarvis."

"Exactly," she said. "It became clear fairly quickly. He knew some of our lore, but he slipped and called us 'Celties'."

"That matters?"

Gwyn shot him a look, but she saw he wasn't trying to offend. "Of course it matter, Mr. Lorne. We take our Celtic heritage very seriously. The outside world does not. Everyone has something that makes their hackles rise, and that's ours. It makes it sound silly and childish, instead of a proud, ancient tradition. No Celtist would ever use that word. Ever."

Tenet shrugged. "Hey, at least he was a bad con man. Imagine how bad it could have been for you if he was any good at it."

Gwyn laughed. "You think with a positive lean towards life, don't you, Mr. Lorne? I like that. Yes, I suppose you are correct. As it was, though, he did enough damage with his spying and reporting to Jarvis. A raid was organized, and if he hadn't been so inept, you're probably right, it probably would have cost our lives. As it was, it only cost his."

So the man hadn't made it through. Tenet hoped he wouldn't face the same fate. "So how did Jarvis get control of the home?"

Gwyn's face twisted into a wry smile. "Mirvena's way of letting him know such a thing would not happen again. She had the village warriors pack up the personal belongings of the dead medic, then they marched it all into town right to the town house. I joined along to be able to add the experience to our chronicles. You should have seen Mirvena. I do not think you could have a worse enemy in life than Mirvena. She called on all the power the sisters and Mother could provide and I'll admit even I was a little afraid when she slapped the key on the desk and dared Jarvis to try such a thing again."

Tenet's eyes went wide. "And the soldiers did nothing?"

Gwyn really laughed then. "Mr. Lorne, I don't believe you've yet grasped how things work around here. The reason Nortaberg grew was that it was allowed to grow. The Ogden Septad rekindled this area from long ago ashes, and easterners decided it was to be friends with the Celtists. Good for them, that is. We're very successful in our endeavors and even in the lean times when the Mother is stingy with a good growing season, we've always got plenty to trade. Nortaberg has many displaced Celtists living among their numbers. That didn't change when Jarvis moved in. In fact, it renewed the faith of some we had believed were lost to us forever."

It was incredibly interesting and Tenet would have liked an entire day with Gwyn to learn more about the village and people he hoped to claim as his own. However, they reached a group of seven houses and Gwyn stopped talking to Tenet. She stopped in the middle of the path and said a chant, then waved a hand up, over, and around Tenet. He stood still, not understanding what specifically was happening, but knowing it was important to Gwyn.

When she finished she took a deep breath and smiled at him. "There. That should clear anything that Mordin could cite as a spiritual objection. It's the best fortification I can offer, Mr. Lorne. The rest will have to be up to you." With no more said about the ritual, she turned and strode to the closest house. At the door, she told him to wait, then knocked seven times and entered.

Tenet stood on the doorstep and waited. And waited. And waited. Minutes stretched longer and longer, and he wondered if he was going to be rejected. He turned around and looked at the houses of the neighborhood. Seven houses stood in a circle, the front doors facing in with the heavy forest looming up behind. Once again, it was seven. He was pondering this when he suddenly became aware of eyes on him. He looked around and at first didn't see anyone. Then a slight movement in a window caught his attention, and he looked closer. The windows of the other houses were filled with gawkers. He wasn't sure what to do, so he decided the friendly route was the best option. He lifted his hand and gave a general wave to all the other houses. One by one, curtains closed, calling an end to his brief introduction to the community at large. He sighed heavily as the door behind him opened.

Gwyn stepped out, her cheeks red and her eyes angry. "It is well," she said in a clipped tone. "Come with me." She moved past him and made for the side of the house. The thatched roofs of the homes in the circle nearly touched, creating a covered walkway to the back yards. Gwyn was silent and moved quickly. Tenet wondered what happened in the house, but knew better than to ask.

They entered the back yard and Tenet was surprised to see how isolated it was from the neighbors' yards. Though the houses were close, the circular yard in the back was it's own unit, fanning out from behind the house and surrounded by bushes and trees so thick, Tenet wouldn't have known there even were neighbors at all if he hadn't seen the houses for himself. The circle of bushes curled on the sides and blended right into the thicket of the forest to the back of the yard. There was a clean path in the very center of the back wall of plant life, lined with cobblestones and leading back into the dense trees.

Gwyn walked through the grass to the cobbled path. "There is sister marked for felling."

Tenet could hear the anger still in her voice. He had to duck to enter the forest, and then blink for his eyes to adjust to the low light. The cobbled path split into three routes shortly after they entered the forest. Gwyn took the path to the left. It was only a few more steps until Tenet saw a large tree, obviously dead but still standing, with a red ribbon tied around it. "You will have to think hard about bringing this one down, but I've seen how you swing and ax. You should be fine. I will leave you now. You will be fed at the noon meal."

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him for a minute before answering. "It is my duty to help care for the Grandfather. But that does not mean it's always an easy task. Watch yourself, Mr. Lorne. Please. He was once a great man, and half of him is stuck in that history." With that, she turned and walked down one of the other cobbled paths, leaving Tenet to face what he believed would be two great challenges on his own.

Tenet glanced back the way he came. There was no sign of anyone, so he turned his attention to the tree. He'd worry about Mordin later. For now, he had to figure out how in the hell he was supposed to chop it down. It was one of the tall ones, taller than the tree he had struggled with on the ground, and easily twice as thick. Mirvena was intentionally testing him, and he had to admit she couldn't have picked a tougher challenge. If he didn't want to be part of the community so badly, he would have walked right back to his house and started making plans on where they could go next spring. But he did want to be part of the community, and damn if she didn't have that one figured out.

He eyed the surrounding forest. There was a gap in the trees. If he could chop the trunk in the right way, he might be able to get the tree to fall in the gap and hurt no other sisters. He chuckled with the thought. Sisters. Tenet shook his head, gripped the ax handle firmly, and began to chop.

Two and a half hours later, with his arms and back burning, his shirt dripping with sweat, and legs like jelly, he sunk the ax head into the wide V he made in the tree and heard an answering crack from the trunk. He was about to take another swing when the implication of that noise sank in. There was a snap, a groan, and another crack as the tree trunk shifted. Tenet swore and dove behind a large healthy sister he hoped would protect him in case his math was wrong, and peered out to watch the graceful and surprisingly sad ending of such a large tree. It seemed to Tenet to pause for one last farewell to the canopy before slowly leaning forward and giving up. Though it didn't land exactly where Tenet planned, it merely scraped a couple trees. They sprang back quickly, alive and healthy as they got out of the way for their dead sister. The great noise didn't even echo in the dense forest and the only sound after it lay on the pine needle floor was the rustling leaves of the healthy trees settling back into place.

He did it. Tenet stared at the dead tree, now laying prone before him. He did it! Tenet held his ax over his head and gave a triumphant whoop.

"How dare you rejoice over the death of a sister?"

He spun around to find an elderly man on the path staring at him with anger. Mordin. He knew it from his bearing if nothing else. The man stood with authority, carried himself with the practiced grace that spoke of a long life at the pinnacle of society. He was old and withered, but there was a clearness in his eye and a careful hand given to his dress that made Tenet wonder just how senile he really was.

"No, sir," he said, dropping the ax down and straightening his own back. Mordin wasn't the only one born to a high station. "I am rejoicing in the fact that you will now have heat through the long winter, and that it is my honor to be the one selected to assist in your well being." He wasn't the son of dignitaries for nothing.

Mordin looked as if he expected something else. He stared at Tenet for a minute. "You are a sycophant then." He waved a hand. "I have no need of any more of those in my life."

Tenet was suddenly swamped with a feeling of familiarity he'd yet to feel so strongly in this strange new land. This man was a king in his own mind. How many "kings" had he appeased in his life? He knew just how to play this. "Is showing respect to one's elders being a sycophant in your eyes? I was lead to believe that you hold a sacred position of honor in this community."

The old man's eyes flared. "Of course I do, boy."

"Perhaps I have misunderstood my own position in this community, then."

"You have no position in this community!"

"And yet, here I am." Tenet gave Mordin the same smile he'd given countless government leaders, nodded, then turned back to the tree before the old man could see the self-satisfied grin he knew he couldn't hold back. There. Let's see what he has to say about that, he thought as he raised his ax and began the task of chunking up the tree.

Mordin was struck dumb. This man, this boy dismissed him! He was too outraged to speak and after he felt his jaw flap a few times while he watched the boy get back to work, he turned and stormed back to his home. He'd have a word with Mirvena about this, he surely would!

Tenet worked until he needed a break, then sat on the log and sipped from the canteen he brought. He couldn't see the sun directly, but figured it was getting near the noon meal. He surveyed his work and couldn't help but be proud. Not only was the tree down, but two sections small enough for him to drag out were cut. He was getting much better at chopping wood. Perhaps he'd be a tree cutter in his new life. Now what would his father have to say about that?

He took a deep breath and leaned back against a tree. The two minutes he'd spent in Mordin's company had been two too many. The man could have been his father's twin. It wasn't what he said, really. It was the tone, the look. The man was clearly arrogant, self possessed, and an egomaniac. Anyone who'd spent any time among the very rich and very powerful could sense that personality from a mile away.

Tenet swallowed his water and rubbed the sweat off his face. Okay, that wasn't nice. He only exchanged a few words with the man. It wasn't fair make such a brutal snap decision. It occurred to Tenet that perhaps Scarab was rubbing off on him a little, too. He never used to assess people either so quickly or so harshly. He had to look at it from Mordin's point of view. He clearly used to be a man of power and wealth, respected, high society in whatever terms that meant for this community. And now what was he? A senile old man with little power that the villagers only cared for out of necessity, not desire. He had to cut the man some slack. Next time, he wouldn't be so quick to be snippy with Mordin.

Gwyn approached with a bucket. "You've felled it!" she said, clearly surprised he actually managed the task. "I knew you had experience. I told Mirvena you'd be the right man for the job." Her mood was greatly improved over how she left him that morning, and he was happy to see that Mordin hadn't given her any more trouble.

"Actually, I've never chopped a tree before coming here."

She didn't look like she believed him, but said nothing. She handed him the pail. "Here's your noon meal. You've more than earned it! Why, at this rate, I'll be you'll be done in just a few days."

Tenet took the pail and lifted the cloth. He was surprised to see two kinds of meat along with the boiled turnips. He had assumed ones so in touch with nature didn't eat much meat. "Thank you. This looks good."

Gwyn smiled at him. "I also have a message for you." Tenet's eyebrow went up. "Wren came back from Nortaberg with news of your woman."

"Is she okay?" Tenet asked quickly.

Gwyn studied the change in him. She was right and Mirvena was wrong. This man loved his wife. His concern was instant and sincere. She'd have a great time rubbing it into her aunt! "She was in town trading fresh pelts."

Relief flooded through Tenet. He hadn't realized just how worried he'd been, and suddenly something deep inside uncoiled and eased. "She went hunting nearly a week ago. I didn't know how long she'd be gone."

"Hunting takes awhile, Mr. Lorne. If it's only been a week, that's nothing to cause worry. And it sounds as if she's been successful, too! Wren himself bought two pelts. Lovely wildcat furs."

"Wildcats?" The thing had that uncoiled in the pit of his stomach began to twist tightly once again. She never said anything about hunting cats. Deer and rabbits and harmless beaver, that's what she promised she was after.

"Yes, of course. Pardon me if this is speaking out of turn, but you have a very clever woman. Wildcat furs trade for the highest value. Well, nearly. Bear and hill goats go for a lot as well, though I doubt she'd have much luck finding them this time of year."

Tenet swallowed hard. "Bear?" Though he'd never seen one, Fratz had filled him in on how quickly the giants could kill. The thought of Scarab facing a bear all by herself made him feel queasy.

Gwyn understood that she should have kept that bit of information to herself as she studied the paleness of Mr. Lorne's face. "Listen to me babble on about nonsense. Of course she won't face bears, Mr. Lorne. They're all beginning their hibernation cycle." He looked dubious. "Truly. It's just me rambling on and on. Mirvena's right. Sometimes I don't know when to shut my yap. And if it helps, the fact that she's capable enough to take down wildcats means she's more than able to handle a bear."

He latched onto that hopeful thought. "Really?"

She nodded firmly. "Absolutely. Bears are large, cumbersome, and very, very stupid. A wildcat is fast and smart. It's far more dangerous. Believe you me, she can handle herself."

"What is all this chatter in my forest?"

Gwyn's happiness vanished with Mordin's voice. "I brought the noon meal, Grandfather."

Tenet could see no resemblance between the two either in looks or bearing. He wondered if Grandfather was a title of position rather than a familial name.

"Handing over a pail does not require speaking. Who gave you permission to speak to someone so beneath your station?"

Gwyn shot Tenet an apologetic look, but Tenet was having none of it. "She had news about my wife, sir."

"Oh did she, now? And what could possibly be so important as to ruin my noon commune?"

Gwyn's mouth opened in what Tenet was sure would be an apology. "My wife has been hunting wildcats in Nortaberg and Gwyn had word that she is well," Tenet explained. "Surely that is worth sharing."

The old man scoffed. "What kind of wife hunts wildcats?"

"Mine." Tenet held the man's gaze firmly, even when Gwyn tried to gain his attention. Let the man challenge that, he thought, more than half hoping he would.

"Grandfather, I was just leaving. Would you need anything of me?"

The old man held Tenet's stare and tried to return it, but Gwyn could not be ignored. Mordin's eyes flicked away first, and Tenet felt a small moment of triumph.

"My dear, I didn't notice you standing there!"

Tenet quirked an eyebrow. Gwyn sighed in obvious relief, making Tenet even more confused.

She held out her hand to the old man. "Yes, Grandfather. Let's go take care of you and leave this boy alone to chop your wood."

Mordin took Gwyn's hand in his. "You look lovely this afternoon, child."

"Yes, Grandfather. Come."

Just what in the hell was going on? One minute Mordin was yelling and challenging in anger, and the next...Tenet would almost call it flirty. Perhaps the man really was senile.

The old man turned with Gwyn and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Your eyes are like Anna's."

"Thank you. Come now," she urged again, stepping forward.

Mordin's hand slipped down her back and cupped her bottom. Tenet stood and was about to put a stop to it when Gwyn turned and looked at him. She gave a little shake, then nodded toward the tree, clearly telling him to let it be and get back to work. Mordin was leaning in now, trying to take a nip of Gwyn's neck. Tenet's hand clenched at his side and he watched until he couldn't see them anymore. He tried to make sense of what just happened, of the dirty old man, of the young woman who accepted it. Or did she? She certainly didn't seem to object. Did she do it for him? To ease the tension and make it easier on him?

Tenet picked up his ax and went back to work, a feeling of unease at the turn the day took eating him, driving his ax faster and harder. By the time it was starting to get dark in the forest, Tenet nearly had the whole tree sectioned. He'd bring his saw tomorrow. He wanted to get this job over and done with as quick as possible. The thought of what Gwyn did on his behalf was too much. He'd have to speak to her, as uncomfortable as it would be, and tell her he could handle a little heat from Mordin. He walked out of the woods. It was much lighter in the yard, but still clearly late afternoon. He considered knocking on Mordin's door and letting him know he was done for the day, but he just didn't think he could face the dirty old man.

Tenet left the neighborhood and only had one moment of hesitation at the crossroads before choosing the right path to his home. He walked in tired and numb, hoping to see his wife. She wasn't there of course. The house was so quiet it ached. He was tired, sore, and confused. He had been building a picture of these people, this community. He thought he had a handle on it. And then a dirty old man makes a pass at what he thought was a prim and proper young lady and everything turned upside down.

Tenet knew he needed food, even though his mind was too churned up for him to be hungry. After he washed, barely even feeling the cold water, he munched down a few dried vegetables and a chunk of jerky. And then he lay in bed and tried to concentrate on the deep ache in his back and leg to give his busy mind a distraction. He spent a long, uncomfortable, silent night missing Scarab so badly it added to his aches until he finally gave up and headed out at first light. He was determined to be done with the job that day.

He worked like a man possessed. Sometime in the morning, Gwyn came to check on him and see why he didn't wait for her to escort him.

"I didn't want you to get in the middle between Mordin and myself today." He nodded toward his backpack. "I even brought my own lunch."

Gwyn looked hurt. "I...I'm sorry. Did I do something to make you angry, Mr. Lorne?"

Tenet gave a laugh at the absurdity of the question. "No, Gwyn. You didn't. I just don't want to put you in another...um...awkward position."

The hurt changed to utter confusion in her face. "I don't understand what you mean by that. I wasn't in any awkward positions yesterday."

Tenet felt his face redden. He hadn't expected to have to explain it out. "You know. With his hands all over you and..."

Gwyn could see his embarrassment, but couldn't think of why this should be. Perhaps Mr. Lorne misunderstood. "Mordin has no wife, Mr. Lorne."

Tenet felt flustered and in his surprise, he blurted out exactly what he was thinking. "So you act like his wife?" He instantly wished he had bit his tongue. Or at the very least, been more delicate. The last thing he wanted to do was make an awful situation worse for her.

Gwyn took no offense. "Wouldn't you do the same for someone so lonely if you weren't married?"

Tenet was too stunned to say anything at all.

"Look, Mr. Lorne. I appreciate your obvious concern, even though I must admit I can't understand it. Sometimes Mordin gets too forceful, and that's a fact. It's simply a product of his senility. And everyone knows not to let married women around him. He's too far gone to respect that barrier. And he can also be very mean. He's got a vicious tongue on him and I meant it when I said you need to watch out for that. When he's in the mood, he'll find your greatest weakness and jump all over it. But it's something he can't help and it doesn't mean we should ignore his basic needs."

It was too much. It was all too much. Tenet knew if he kept speaking with this woman his disgust would grow. He had to work and get away. He had to finish his job and go back to his house and wait for his wife who might be able to sort it out for him. He mumbled a thanks, wished her a good day, and got back to work, throwing his whole self into the job.

Gwyn watched him work like a man possessed and was deeply concerned. She clearly had said or done something he didn't agree with or didn't understand, though she couldn't fathom what that was. She decided to visit Mirvena and discuss the situation with her. Perhaps they could meditate and come to some understanding.

Tenet found that if he scored the large chunks with the saw, they split easier with the ax. By afternoon, the tree was chopped into burnable sized logs. All that remained was hauling and stacking, and he put in a good show on that until it was simply too dark to keep it up. He had to make it back to his house with the flashlight and didn't see Mirvena standing in the crossroads until he almost ran into her. He gave a startled gasp and jumped back.

"You'd do well to look where you're going, boy."

"I'm sorry, Mirvena," Tenet said, his heart thumping. "It's dark."

"It gets that way at night around here."

He thought he heard amusement in her voice. "I'm almost finished with the tree."

Mirvena turned and started walking towards his house as she spoke. "I heard that progress was faster than expected. You're a hard worker, I'll give you that." Tenet didn't know what to say to the compliment. "Gwyn was disturbed by your conversation with her this morning," she said eventually.

Tenet cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to disturb her."

"She's convinced that you believe she did something wrong. Is she right in that assumption?"

Boy, she got right down to the root of things quickly, didn't she? Tenet sighed. He had hoped he concealed his disgust better than he obviously did. "I just don't understand."

"I believed that to be the case." She took a deep breath. "You outsiders, you all have an unusual way of looking at the world. Especially you Southlanders. What is it you call that state religion of yours?"

"Enlightened Humanism."

She scoffed. "It's hardly enlightened, and it seems to me if it was at all humane, you wouldn't have had a bounty on your head by your own father."

Tenet stopped cold. How did she know? It must have been Krupkie who informed Mirvena, since he was sure Jarvis knew nothing about it.

Mirvena could feel the fear radiate off the boy. "Rest your mind, boy. I'm keeping that one to myself. It will be between us."

He was too tired and worn out for tact, diplomacy, or guile. "Why?"

Mirvena frowned. "It's not your place to ask why, young man. My reasons are my own. I only share this with you to give you opportunity to explain your rude behavior towards my niece."

"I didn't mean to be rude," he said quickly. Mirvena figured as much, but was still glad to hear the sincerity. "It...it just threw me for a loop. I always thought that...um...relations were to be between a husband and a wife."

Mirvena knew he squirmed in the dark. She knew if the light was better she would see humiliation in is face at having to say such things out loud. Good. That meant she judged his character properly. He was such an odd innocent. It intrigued and pleased her. The woman? She had a feeling it was a different story entirely with her. But the boy, he was an asset, not a threat. "Coupling is a force of nature, child. The body can no more ignore it than food."

Tenet didn't agree, but he didn't know how to say so without causing even more offense. "That's...it's a new concept for me. It caught me by surprise."

Mirvena let out what passed for a laugh. "A new concept you say? Then you've got a very confused marriage."

On that, he didn't even try to disagree. "It is not conventional, that's for sure."

Yet there was love. Mirvena didn't doubt it. These outsiders were certainly an interesting pair. "We embrace the physical release. We understand that it is a symptom of humanity, a calling of nature, and a gift in a world that's hard. I do not ask you to convert to our way of thinking. But I do demand that any within our borders respect our beliefs."

Tenet swallowed, feeling like a child getting lectured all over again. "Yes, ma'am. I didn't mean to..."

"Mean to or not, you did. And you should meditate on it tonight." They were in front of his house now. "Meditate on which way of thinking is better. That is your work for tonight. Who is right? Your way of denial and frustration, or our way of allowing a natural occurrence to strengthen our bond and harmonize with the world around us?" She sounded proud of her assignment. "Yes. That is what you will do tonight." She gave him a thump on the arm and then was gone.

"Goodnight," he called into the dark. He strained and listened carefully, but couldn't hear any footsteps. One of these days, he'd ask her just how it was she did that.

He tried to do as he asked. After he cleaned and ate, he sat in his quiet house and tried to weigh her words. The only thing that happened was that he became keenly aware of just how badly he wanted to hold his wife. Any thoughts of the physical sharing Mirvena wanted him to ponder brought Scarab's face to his mind, her body, the feel of her against him. He sighed heavily. Maybe that just meant Mirvena was right. He climbed into bed and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling in the glow of the fire he needed to light to take the bitter chill out of the room. He hoped Scarab was able to light a fire wherever she was.

Was it day seven without her? Day eight? His jaw tightened and twitched when he thought about the pelts. She was out there doing this for him, and he knew it. She would have been able to pass a winter by herself with far less than they already had. She was out there facing wildcats and bears for him.

He missed her with an ache so fierce it cut. He closed his eyes tightly and thought of her face. A need just as bad as food, Mirvena had said. Perhaps she was right.

Chapter 11

Wren was a very large warrior who was in charge of the hunting details in times of peace. He was also extremely adept at wiring, for which Tenet was exceedingly grateful. He called up the ladder with his thanks yet again.

"I really appreciate this, Wren."

The man sighed. "One expression of gratitude is enough. You'll likely give me a swelled head if you continue, and my wife would never forgive you." He flashed a quick grin at Tenet, then went back to twisting the wires of the solar collector. After Tenet had finished the wood for Mordin, Mirvena approached Wren and directed him to assist in the installation of the collector. Wren was a hunter. He was not scared of a little cursed dwelling. Besides, having met the wife, his curiosity was at its highest to meet the other stranger who would be living among them all winter.

Wren wasn't disappointed. The man, Tenet, was as different from his wife as anyone could be. Upon introduction, the very first thing Tenet did was ask about his woman, whereas she had not mentioned a thing about the man. It hadn't set well with him, and he had sought Mirvena's council. She sat and meditated with him about it. In hindsight, what he perceived as an uncaring slight was probably the opposite. She was probably trying not to draw the attention of a warrior to her man. And after meeting Tenet for himself, he agreed with Mirvena's wise assessment. Though he was clearly strong and certainly able to care for himself, Wren knew Tenet was no warrior.

Wren finished the wiring, then closed the control door. "There. It is connected to the holding unit." He climbed down the ladder and walked to the large unit on the ground beside the small horse pen. "Are you familiar with how this works?"

Tenet nodded. "I know the basics. It's not much different from the style we used back home."

"And where was that?"

Wren had been digging for information all morning, and Tenet struggled not to laugh. He wasn't as direct as Mirvena, nor as talkative as Gwyn. However, he was just as curious as the others. He simply showed more cunning in trying to get the answers. "Oh, a ways south. Is there anyone in Ogden or in Nortaberg that would trade me for a heat coil?"

Wren's broad smile spread over his face. Nice way to change the subject, brother, he thought to himself. This man was certainly clever! He'd have to give it thought on how to catch Tenet off guard. It would be a fun way to pass the winter months. "Which style would you be looking for?"

Tenet shook his head. "I'm not exactly sure. I'd like whatever I could make work to take the chill out of the bath water."

Wren rubbed the long, thin beard on his chin, thinking. "Hm. That's a tall order. This is a standard collector, you know. If you are using it to power a water heater, that will draw the whole load. You wouldn't be able to use the electric for anything else."

Tenet figured as much. "I was hoping a coil instead of a water heater might ease the burden on the system a little." He had been giving it a lot of thought since Mirvena offered the solar collector. He was already sick of ice cold baths. He'd give just about anything for even a lukewarm bathing experience, and heating water up on the stove in the one pot they had took forever.

"Here's my thought," Tenet explained to Wren. "I can use the water collector for the toilet and pipe it to the bathtub instead."

Wren's eyes went wide. "And how would you flush the toilet?"

"With the pump."

"That's a pain."

Tenet shrugged. "Less of a pain than pumping a whole tub full and then having to chatter in the cold. It's all about priorities."

In a perfect world, he'd take Tenet to Nortaberg and get him a good deal on a real water heater with a secondary solar collector that could handle the load and produce as much hot water as he could ever want. That's how his own home was set up and it would take only a day for him to help Tenet get it set up. But, he knew Tenet could not afford anything like that. Not this year. Perhaps not for several years, if they even lasted in Ogden. "I do not understand where the heating coil enters into this plan."

"See, I was thinking that..." He went on to explain his idea. To his disappointment, Wren pointed out several flaws in the plan, the most important being that the water level was not a constant, and the coil would have to be fixed.

"However, you have given me an idea that I believe we can make work. If you've got enough gold for some therm tape, we could wind it in circles all the way down your collection tank."

"How much does therm tape cost?" Wren gave an estimate and Tenet felt his hopes sink. "What about a trade?"

Wren shook his head. "The only dealer would be army. They never trade, unless it's a personal deal."

"Damn."

Wren felt bad for him. His mind really had worked out an intricate plan, even if the specifics would not work out. He was smart and friendly, and Wren wanted to help him. "I accept trades, though. What have you to trade? Perhaps I will see something of yours I would like to buy."

Tenet didn't know what he had of any value, so he invited Wren in to see what he had to offer. Wren hesitated only a second before crossing into the cursed house. If he did buy anything from Tenet, he would never tell his wife where it came from! He looked around the living area, surprised at what he saw. He didn't know what he expected. Something scary. At the very least, creepy. It was a cursed house, after all. But the normalcy of it all was almost a let down.

"See anything you like?" Tenet asked hopefully.

Wren looked around and assessed what he saw. His eyes stopped on the com station, but he discounted that. It would be valuable to Tenet in a true financial emergency. He walked around the kitchen area, and commented on the food cooler. His wife would love it, but he didn't want to give away too much too quickly. He may have liked Tenet well enough, but business was business. He toured around the house casually, until he ended back up in the kitchen. "I don't suppose your wife would appreciate it if you sold your food cooler."

Tenet laughed. "I don't think she'd care. I'm in charge of the kitchen here."

Wren's eyebrow shot up. A wife that hunts and a husband that cooks? His own wife would be thrilled with all the gossip about the newcomers. "Then I am dealing directly with the one concerned, am I?"

"Yep."

"I notice it is not wired."

Tenet bit back a smile. Of course it wasn't wired. The man knew that full well. He wanted it, but he would make Tenet squirm and work for the deal. "No, it's not wired," Tenet agreed.

Wren frowned and knelt to fiddle with the connection. "Hm. I have no idea if it is working or not."

"It doesn't look very old," Tenet offered.

Wren stood and opened it. It was empty. The man was not using it. He felt his hopes at a hero's welcome as he brought it through his front door rise. He had enough money on him to give Tenet what he needed for the therm tape, but a refrigerator cost more than he could lay out. He made a show of looking at the door seal while his mind scrambled to think of what he could offer to make the trade fair. Wren loved a good deal. He did not like taking advantage, though.

"My wife would be well pleased if I was to bring home a refrigerator. However, I cannot pay for it outright. I have only about half of the money this is worth."

"Would it be enough for the therm tape?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll make the deal."

Wren shook his head. The man was not a salesman, either. "That is not a fair deal. You should never sell something for less than what it is worth simply because you need a quick pocket of gold."

Tenet was more amused than offended. He knew business. If Wren had any idea of his personal history, he'd feel foolish lecturing. Of course he knew that. Of course he knew it was short sighted to take the quick payout. To him, it was a matter of value. The value of a hot bath vastly exceeded the value of a cold dinner. Tenet didn't want to offend Wren. He liked him, and felt that with time, they might be friends. It seemed important to Wren to pay what he considered to be a fair price. "What would you suggest then?"

"I have two sacks of oats. They are fine quality, but my wife has developed a distaste for them. They sit unused since we've sold our livestock for the winter. I will offer you seven coins of gold and one hundred pounds of oats."

Tenet would have agreed to anything Wren offered, but was thrilled with the offer of a hundred pounds of oats. Oats were versatile for human food or horse feed. They were also very familiar to him, and he happily stuck his hand out to shake on the deal. "Sold!"

Wren grinned and pumped Tenet's hand. He would get a warrior's welcome tonight! He turned to the refrigerator. "Now we need to make a plan on how to get this to my house. I think I need to borrow some mules."

Wren lead Tenet into the business center of town as if Tenet fully belonged. Wren nodded to everyone, but kept walking, and Tenet followed his lead. There were many more people than Tenet imagined milling around, and they all stopped what they were doing to stare. Wren paid no attention to the gawking or whispers. "Hans will have mules for us to borrow," he told Tenet. "And he's the one to arrange for therm tape. He's good. Trades fair. Avoid Colin over there," he said, nodding to a building across the road. "He'll charge you your firstborn. He hates outsiders."

"Thanks for the warning."

They went up the stairs of a large store. There were many people shopping, and as soon as Tenet entered they stopped and stared at him, as those outside had. They were all dressed in similar style with furs, but each with a unique twist. There were old and young, thin and fat, tall and short. Again, an assumption of his went out the window. Mirvena and Gwyn were so similar he had assumed that there was a community standard. In this one store, there was more variety and individualism than there had been in any shop he could remember in Southland or New Canada.

Wren marched up the aisle to the front counter and rang a bell. In a moment, a large older man shuffled out from a room in the back.

"Hold the peace, boy. What do you mean slamming on the bell like that?"

Wren gave the man an affectionate smile without a hint of contrition. "I've got a hot deal I don't want to go cold. Eat your lunch later. You could stand to skip it all together, now that you mention."

The man behind the counter grinned and patted his large belly. "And lose this shape I worked so hard for? Now, what do you want?"

"I would like to borrow two mules and a cart, Hans."

Hans nodded without hesitation and waved a hand towards the back of the store. "You know where they are. They've been fed for the day and only one is feeling testy."

"Much appreciated. Also, I need you to get hold of some therm tape."

Hans quirked an eyebrow. "More?"

"Not for me, for our new neighbor."

Tenet stepped forward and stuck his hand out. "Tenet Lorne."

Hans looked at the hand and Tenet could hear the entire store hush and wait to see what happened. After a tense moment, he shook Tenet's hand, and the gossip mill began to turn behind Tenet as people whispered their shared surprise. "I heard we had a new resident. How much therm tape you be needing?"

Tenet took out the gold and put it on the counter. "As much as that will buy."

Hans quirked an eyebrow, then looked to Wren who gave a small nod. He scooped up the gold and put it in his cash machine. He leaned to the side and called past Tenet. "Runner!" In a second, a young man trotted up. "Get ready to fill an order in Nortaberg," Hans told the boy.

"Yes, sir," the boy said, then disappeared in the room behind the counter.

"That all?" Hans asked Wren.

"That will do it."

"Thank you," Tenet said.

Hans nodded. "I expect we'll be seeing you in here more often."

"I expect so," Tenet said.

Wren turned and strode back down the aisle to the door. Tenet quickly followed, doing his best to ignore the eyes of the townspeople that never left him. They walked around the back of the building to a stable, and just as Hans said, there were mules and carts inside. A sign said they were for rent, and Tenet wondered about payment.

"He owes me for more than the cost of a few mule trips," Wren said. He didn't elaborate, and Tenet didn't press. Wren hitched up the mules, explaining the steps to Tenet as he went. When the cart was secure, he clicked his tongue and the mules started walking. "Keep to the side and watch your feet," he instructed.

They made the trip to Tenet's house and got the refrigerator loaded. It was heavy and awkward to get out the squat door, but between them they managed. Wren accepted a drink of water, then thanked Tenet for the refrigerator. "I'll return with the oats and the therm tape in the morning," he said firmly, leaving no room for debate. Tenet assumed he'd accompany Wren home and help him wrestle the refrigerator into it's new house. Apparently, Wren was not ready to have Tenet go to his house. He tried not to feel hurt by this knowledge, but Wren could see it in his eyes. It couldn't happen, though. Not yet. Maybe not ever. As nice as Tenet was, Wren's marital harmony was far more important. His wife would pitch a fit if the stranger from the cursed house crossed her threshold, and the townspeople would overwhelmingly back her up. He gave a nod and took off, hoping Tenet could figure out for himself why he couldn't be invited over.

Tenet watched the mule cart until he couldn't see it anymore. It was nice to spend a day talking to someone, and he was sad to hear the silence once again. He could feel a good funk taking over, as Fratz would say, and shook himself out of it. He was now definitely getting therm tape, and that meant he had a lot of work to do to convert the holding tank from the toilet to the bathtub. He planned. He plotted. He looked at the problem from every angle. And finally, he just dug in and got to work.

By the time Wren delivered the oats and therm tape the next morning, Tenet had a blistered thumb from missing with the hammer in the tight space of the bathroom, a knot on his head from the pipe flexing back with a thwack, and he didn't look like he had slept at all. However, he had the conversion complete, and Wren was impressed. Using the few supplies he had in the house, Tenet designed a trough to go from the holding tank above the toilet, along the wall, and above the tub. He demonstrated for Wren, and while a little sloshed over, almost all of the water trickled into the tub where it was supposed to go.

"The tank doesn't hold a lot at once, about enough for seven or so flushes," Tenet said.

It appeared to be a standard collection tank for a toilet. "That sounds about right."

"So that's about a half a tub, at best, from what I can figure." When Wren agreed, Tenet explained the rest of the plan. "Now, if I put all this therm tape into the tank, and crank up the output to max from the solar collector, I should be able to get the water damn near boiling. I'll pump the bulk in cold, then heat it up with the boiling water and if I'm right, my wife will have a hot tub by the time she gets back from hunting." He grinned in triumph.

Wren had to admit, the man was creative. The idea just might work, too. "I'll bring in the oats then and let you get back to work."

The therm tape took forever to heat up for the first time, having to heat water from near freezing. It was full dark by the time Tenet judged the water in the holding tank to be hot. He pulled the chain and watched the steamy stream trickle down the pipe into the tub. While it that ran, he pumped the cold up from the well, and within five minutes had a remarkably warm bath. He gave a hoot and a holler and dove in for the first warm bath in his new home. He sighed and soaked his sore muscles. When the water cooled, he discovered a flaw in his plan. He couldn't reach the warm water pull without getting up and making his wet way over to the chain. If he extended the chain and looped it over to the tub, anyone taking a bath could easily add more warm water without dripping all over the floor. He made a mental note to worry about that part of the plan tomorrow. For tonight, that was good enough. He stood and pulled the plug, then wrapped himself in a spare blanket they'd been using for a towel.

Tenet checked the tank. One concern of Wren's that was legitimate was the fact that he didn't want all that heat on an empty tank. There was still plenty in holding, but Tenet knew he'd have to consider how to keep the tank full even if they were in a dry period. He added that to the list of things to do in the morning, his muscles warm and heavy, his body really ready for sleep for the first time in over a week. He didn't even bother getting dressed before he flopped into the bed.

Scarab was cold. She was bone weary beyond anything she'd felt in a long, long time. The weather and conditions conspired against her the entire hunting trip and what should have been a week turned into nearly two. The hunting was better than she imagined, though. She had already sold four cat pelts, three beautiful red fox furs, a handful of beaver, and several rabbits, along with the pelts and meat from two deer. And then, then there was the bear. He had been huge and terrifying and she still shook a little with the memory. She wasn't sure if she'd ever tell Tenet about that one. She had unloaded the entire kill to a grateful farmer outside Nortaberg who actually had a taste for the gamy meat and great plans for the fur as soon as he saw it.

She brought home with her the meat and pelt of one deer, though she knew Tenet didn't overly care for venison. They'd salt it for trade in the lean winter months if they got desperate. She also trailed two cows behind the horse. They weren't long for the earth. They were retired milk cows set for the slaughter. Because of this, she'd managed to convince the rancher they were cheaper than the meat itself would have been, since it would be tedious, messy, and time consuming to slaughter and butcher them. Tenet liked beef, and she'd long gotten over the irony of her wanting to please him with a cow as her father had done for her mother. It was a different situation entirely.

It was late. A soft glow from the fireplace shone through the windows, but no lamps were lit. Tenet would be in bed. Scarab wanted to be there with him so badly it was tempting to stake the animals and just hope for the best through the night. But she couldn't do that. She sighed heavily as she dismounted. "Come on, Darla," she said to the horse. She had taken to talking to the animal. She never would have in the past, but Tenet's incessant chatter got to her and the first night on the hunt she was shocked how much she missed it. By the second night, she was pissed. It took three nights more of her denials and self admonishments before she gave in and admitted it wasn't the talking, but the man she really missed. If the hunting wasn't so good, she would have dropped what she was doing and ridden home to him right then.

She took out her flashlight and shone it over the newly constructed small stable for Darla. It was too dark for her to get a really good look, but it had supports, walls, and a larger roof. Overall, not bad. She'd have to tease Tenet about his craft classes later. She gave Darla some of the hay from the bales she had stacked before they left, gave her a half-assed brush down, then tied the cows' ropes to the beam of the stable and decided to call it good enough. They'd just be steaks tomorrow anyway. And the glow from the house looked so damn inviting.

She slipped inside as quietly as possible. Tenet hadn't locked the door. She should be angry and wake him up to lecture him about it immediately, but something inside knew he only left it open in case she got home, and that thought made her smile. She took her heavy pack off and set it on the floor, then made her way to the kitchen. Even in the muted firelight, she couldn't help but notice the refrigerator was missing. She grabbed some jerky and some water, and looked around to see what else was different. She munched the jerky as she toured the room. It looked lived-in now, but she couldn't see anything else missing. Fratz was clearly gone. She couldn't hear his snores filling the house and didn't trip on his enormous boots he always left in the middle of the floor. Her frown deepened. They had a deal. Sighing, she decided she was simply too tired to do anything about it tonight. She put the cup in the sink and went to the bathroom. A quick wash up and then bed.

Scarab lit the bathroom lamp and spent the next few minutes staring at the rigged up piping and wondering what the hell happened while she was gone. She noticed wires leading out of the tank. What? She followed their path along the ceiling and under the thatch. Wiring? Back in the bathroom, she studied the tank again, then pulled the chain. Steaming water poured out, down the tube, and cascaded into the bath. "That clever little monkey," she said, bending to feel the water. It was incredibly hot, and she got the picture. She was tired and longed for a comfortable sleep. But a hot bath would feel heavenly right about then. Without further thought, she ran the hot from the tank and pumped in cold from the well until there was just enough water for a bath.

Scarab stepped in and cupped the hot water over her hair. Her whole body sank into the feeling. She couldn't stop grinning at the beautiful feeling of the hot water washing away the last two cold, lonely weeks. When she finally felt clean, she stood and toweled off with a blanket that was wadded up on the floor. It was damp. Tenet had used it to towel off his own body, and for some reason the thought sent a heat through her. She put on some light, clean clothes and went to climb into bed. He was sleeping on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes and the other held out to her side of the bed, as if he was just waiting for her to take her place. Scarab didn't think. She didn't analyze. She didn't take any more time to wonder over her feelings or be insecure. His arms were open and waiting for her and she wanted to be there. It was as simple as that.

Tenet came awake to the feeling of an arm wrapping around him and the familiar smell of his wife. "Scarab?"

"No, it's Fratz. I decided we should take our friendship to the next level."

Scarab. His wife was home. She was home and holding him and laughing and teasing. It had to be a dream. He opened his eyes and turned his head and was stunned speechless by her. The firelight caught in her eyes and twinkled and for a second he was certain he really was looking at an angel.

"Hello," she said quietly.

He threw his arms around her and pulled her close. "Don't be gone that long again," he said in rushed whisper. Two weeks of worry left him shaking in his relief.

Scarab swallowed hard at the desperation she heard in his voice. "I won't," she promised, suddenly unsure of how to handle herself, caught up in the wave of overpowering and unfamiliar emotion. "It's okay," she whispered hoarsely. "I'm okay."

Tenet pulled back and looked at her. She was okay. She wasn't mauled by a bear or eaten by a wildcat. He lifted a shaky hand to her cheek and pressed. "I don't know what I would do if you got hurt," he admitted quietly.

Scarab could barely breathe, her heart was pounding so hard. She looked at him and wished she had the courage to say she felt the same. As the silence ticked by marked only by her racing heart, a heat that tingled earlier grew. She saw Tenet swallow hard, and the knowledge that he felt the same scared her more than anything.

Tenet wasn't really sure what to do, either. He ran his shaking hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He was about to throw off the blanket to get some air when he remembered he was naked. His face burned as he scrambled up, clutching the blanket around him and ran to the bathroom to find his discarded clothing. Scarab was grateful for the moment on her own to collect herself. She took a few deep breaths and tried to ignore her own disappointment and calm her burning cheeks.

When he came back, Tenet sat on the very edge of the bed, unsure how to move forward. "Um, it's good to see you." Even he cringed at how lame it sounded. "Sorry I was in here...like...uh..." That wasn't any better.

Scarab decided to throw him a life line. "You rigged up hot water."

He flashed her a quick glance, but couldn't look her in the eye for long. "Yeah. It's not the best and I have to figure out how to keep the tank full in the winter..." His discomfort was making him babble.

"Where is the refrigerator?"

He blinked. "Oh. I sold it to Wren to get therm tape for the tank."

Scarab frowned. "Wren?"

He suddenly realized how much he had to tell her. His humiliation forgotten, he turned and launched into all she missed, starting with the list of chores and ending with the therm taped holding tank. He told her about Mirvena, Gwyn, and Hans. He let her know she had already met Wren. "You traded pelts with him in Nortaberg."

"Mr. McKay?"

"I don't know his last name."

"You wouldn't. You're male."

Tenet raised his eyebrow, but when she didn't explain, he continued his story. When he was finished, Scarab looked even more pensive than before. "Did I...did I do something wrong?" he asked quietly.

All through his telling of what she missed, Scarab considered each new detail carefully. They needed acceptance into the community. Well, she didn't. She'd be fine remaining on the outskirts for one winter, then setting off on their own, Krupkie be damned. She was certain she could find a place so remote that Krupkie couldn't find them. She learned on her hunt just how unsettled the area still was. A few miles off a main road, and you might as well be a ghost for all humanity would know. Tenet needed people, though. He needed to be accepted, probably far more than even he understood.

He met the priestess. He met the historian. He met the warrior. And he met the grandfather. While he obviously didn't understand some basics of a Celtist community, he was already granted a greater gift than any outsider she'd ever heard of. Anger flared anew at Fratz. They had discussed this. Fratz was to educate Tenet on the life of a Celtist, the structure of a septad, and, most importantly, the role an outsider who wants to keep his skin was to behave in their presence. He hadn't, and sheer luck kept Tenet from harm.

Not sheer luck, she corrected herself. Tenet kept himself alive with that open innocence of his, that thing he had about him that made people want to trust him, to know him. It was a magic uniquely his. Not for the first time, she wondered why it never worked on his own people. He could charm a damn Celtist priestess, and yet... She sighed. "So you've completed the winter preparation on the house, made friends with the septad, gained rights to trade in town, and rigged up hot water. I should leave you to your own more often. Next time, I'll come back to a mansion!"

Tenet smiled at her teasing. He had been half afraid she'd be angry at his intrusion into the community. He was winging it the whole time, and even though the only apparent hitch had been the bit with Gwyn and Mordin, he knew he didn't handle it as Scarab would. "I'll take a pass on you leaving me alone more often. But yes, I have single-handedly improved our situation." He stuck his nose in the air and sniffed, the consummate aristocrat. "Continue to sing my praises at your leisure."

Scarab rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the love of..."

"Now. Let's talk about your hunting of wild cats."

Her eyebrow shot up. "How did you know about that?"

"Wren."

Scarab set her mouth in a firm line. Had she known the man she traded with was from Ogden, she never would have completed the transaction. Had she known he was a warrior, no less, she wouldn't have even traded in the same town as him while he was there. The knowledge that she inadvertently informed the warrior of the septad that the outsider was alone weighted heavily in her stomach. If Tenet wasn't who he was, she easily could have come home to a dead husband. "Then I will have to thank Mr. McKay next time I see him."

Tenet crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh no. You don't get to blame this on Wren. You promised you wouldn't go hunting them."

Scarab sighed. "I didn't hunt them, they hunted me. It was me or them, Tenet."

He didn't quite believe that. Sure, maybe the first. And then when she saw she could kill them, she went after the expensive pelts. He knew her far too well by then to buy that story. "I'm sure."

She bit the inside of her lip to keep from smirking. He had her pegged and they both knew it. If only he knew about the bear! She decided to keep that tidbit to herself. The best course was to change the subject. "I got plenty of other animals. Harmless ones. Tasty ones. We've got fifty seven gold pieces and a handful of silver change."

Tenet was thoroughly impressed. Having seen the prices of things in Hans's store, he knew that amount would easily buy them the rest of the supplies they'd need. "That's great!"

It wasn't "great". Scarab thought of the opportunities she had missed. If she had another person on the hunt with her, one could have dressed one kill while the other went to make another. There were herds of deer thick as a swarm of bees that bounded through the fields every morning. One other person and she could have gotten so much more. "It was only killing, Tenet."

He was surprised at the tone of voice. "It wasn't 'only killing'. We needed..."

Scarab felt uncomfortable with his level of praise, and cut him off. "I've gotten us meat for the winter."

Tenet felt like pushing. He hated it when she cut off any attempt at a compliment. But he knew the set of her jaw meant she had made her mind up to block out any good words he had for her. He gave in. "Deer?"

She had to laugh at the dejected note. "Yes, but that's only for emergencies. I picked up two old cows. We'll have to slaughter them and preserve the meat as well as we can."

"Er, sorry about the refrigerator..."

"Don't be," she quickly assured him. "We'll smoke and salt the meat. I hadn't planned on having electricity at all this winter, so refrigeration wasn't in my plan." She let out a huge yawn. "Tomorrow. We'll make a list of everything we still need and go into Nortaberg."

"I think we should trade here."

Scarab didn't want to go into Ogden proper. She didn't want to cross into the center of the community. Tenet might blend in, but she would not. Yet she knew he was right. Money and goods into the community would yield another level of trust. It annoyed her that she felt this apprehension. She never hesitated to cross any lines as a hunter. She felt like a scared little child again and hated it. "Fine." She'd do it. She'd go into town and stand proud. Or, if not proud, firm.

Tenet didn't know why she was suddenly so uncomfortable. "We have permission," he reminded her.

Scarab looked at him. He was eager. He was excited. He was happy and carefree. He was embracing their new life. She wished she could harness a fraction of that, and that thought brought her up short. She never cared about happiness and wellbeing, only making it through another day. She never had a need to reassure anyone, to allow them to keep that level of hope. It was confusing at best, yet she went ahead and did it anyway. "They're just my own personal demons, Tenet." She was tired. She was suddenly very, very tired. She lay down and pulled the covers over her, waiting for him to join her.

"One of these days, you'll explain what you mean by that," he said quietly, laying next to her. There was a brief awkwardness, each wondering if they should sleep as they used to before Tenet made up his mind and pulled her so her back nestled into his front. She didn't reject the contact. It was warm and it was comfortable and within minutes, she was asleep. She didn't hear Tenet's whispered confessions or feel the kiss he placed on her shoulder before he, too, gave in and found the sleep that had eluded him for weeks.

Chapter 12

Scarab was covered in blood. Her heavy breaths caused great poofs of white to billow in the icy morning air and her arms ached from the exertions in the cold. She needed a break. She stepped back from the hanging carcass and leaned against the pillar. The morning sun was about to clear the tops of the trees and shine into their little circle in the forest. While she wasn't as far along as she hoped, she figured she only had a couple more hours before the job was done. And then she got to do it all again. She gave herself a wry smile as she took a swig of water. Oh, yippee.

After a small break, she got back to it. Both cows had been killed and bled. While she knew she should have kept the blood, she also knew how squeamish Tenet was still about some things. It would be a whole lot to ask of him to eat an intestine filled with blood, no matter if she prettied it up first by calling it sausage. She drained the beasts into a bucket, then walked deep into the woods and released it into the forest floor. It would feed the ground, if nothing else.

Both cows had also been stripped of their hides and innards. As with the blood, she got rid of the bulk of the innards, keeping only the heart and liver. While they would not have a way to preserve those, she knew they would get a fair price in trade if they could get to Ogden's center that day or the next. The organs would still be fresh.

The easy part of the process finished, she was halfway through the butchery of the first cow. Using Tenet's saw and ax, she had cut and chopped it into smaller pieces of meat. Her arms were sore, and her hands were raw from the wet blood in the cold. She wished for the millionth time she had the time to get to her winter supplies from Southland. A brand new complete Winter suit sat there in on of her lockers, sparkling and unused and so very far from her. It was the top model, too. She'd spent a fortune on it. What she wouldn't give to be able to have that suit.

Scarab sighed and got back to work. Cutting through the thick bones of a full grown cow was a difficult job. It required strength, persistence, and a basic knowledge of butchery. She had mistakenly assumed it would be just like cutting up the deer, only on a larger scale. The small deer she got were easy in comparison. Their bones were lighter, their meat less dense. Cutting through the bones of the cows felt like trying to cut concrete itself.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

Scarab jumped and turned, the bloody ax missing Tenet by inches.

Tenet felt a wave of nausea at the macabre scene, and quickly swallowed it down. It was getting easier and easier to eat meat, but that didn't make it easy to see it before it landed on his plate. He had to, though. This was life. And the entire time Scarab was hunting, he waged an inner war with his old ways of thinking until he firmly resolved to help in all aspects of their lives. He knew she was butchering to spare him. It both warmed and irritated him at the same time.

"I'll handle this," she said, going back to her task.

Tenet stepped back and watched for a minute. The ax made a dull thunk and wet crack. He clenched his jaw and refused to look away. After several more hits, the whole leg fell off the half of the animal that was strung up before her. Scarab took a few deep breaths and dropped the ax. She picked up the saw and began to slice through the meat about halfway down. Tenet made himself swallow and keep his stomach in check when he heard the scraping of the saw blade on fresh bone. After quite some time, the two pieces of meat broke free of each other. Scarab put the saw down and stacked the meat with the rest of what she'd cut on a large piece of cloth.

Tenet nodded. He could do this. He watched her go to town on another leg. When that dropped, he picked up the saw and began cutting as she had. Scarab was stunned and just watched him. It was clearly more difficult for him than he thought, and he struggled, his face pale and his hands shaking. When she stepped in to take over, he gave her a glare that stopped her in her tracks. She picked up the ax and went to the carcass, cutting the spine. If he wanted to make himself sick, so be it. And yet, she couldn't deny the respect she felt for him.

They worked together through the morning. By the time they reached the last sections of the second cow, they had a smooth system working. She would chop, he would saw, and then they would both take a five minute break before tackling the next part. At first, Tenet wouldn't drink any water with her. Scarab knew it was because he was afraid of getting sick. However, it wasn't all that long before he needed water, and his stomach allowed him to keep it down. They only spoke when Scarab needed to explain a new cut. Tenet never asked any questions, just nodded and did as she said.

Once everything was cut, Scarab retrieved some of the waxed paper she had purchased for wrapping her kills on the hunt, and some twine. She showed him how to wrap the meat for temporary storage until they could get what they needed to smoke and preserve it all. She left out one large roast and told him it was for dinner. She studied his face carefully to see if he would rebel. It was asking a lot, and she knew it.

"Fine," was all he said before he took the ax and saw inside to wash them. When he came back out, he helped Scarab stack the wrapped packages under the eaves of their house.

"Won't wild cats come for it?"

She shook her head. "There won't be any around Ogden."

He took it for granted that she was right. "I'm going to wash up." When he came out of his quick, lukewarm bath, he felt a little better. He was no longer covered in blood, anyway. Scarab was leaning against the counter, the hunk of meat sitting behind her, unprepared and uncooked.

"Good. My turn. Make sure you build up the heat in the stove pretty well. I like a good char on the outside." She walked past a stunned Tenet and shut the bathroom door.

Tenet stared at the hunk of meat and felt the unspoken accusation from the cow it once was. He swallowed hard. He was being ridiculous and he knew it. He slaughtered it, he could cook it, and he would do everything in his power to eat it. He knew when he was being tested by now. He stoked the fire in the oven and took spices out of the cupboard. He rolled his sleeves up, took a deep breath, and got to work.

Scarab washed the grime of the day off her. She didn't like killing and butchery. It was messy, painful work. When she was in Southland and New Canada, not having to kill for a meal was one of the major perks. Even when out on a bounty call, she rarely had to resort to hunting game to stay alive. It was now her life again, and while she accepted that fact, it didn't make the unwanted memories go away. Memories of her childhood crept in during the day, thoughts of helping to scrape and tan while her father and the other warriors butchered and prepared the meats the women would then cook, salt, and smoke were impossible to ignore. It was a community event, one of the few her mother actually wanted to participate in. The first deer she took down outside Nortaberg had been very difficult to get through. She remembered her sister, too little to help with the scraping, hating the whole process, but having to be right by her side the whole time. Always the little angel was at her elbow.

Scarab ran a cup full of hot water over her head, trying to wash away the pain of the memories. Her sister couldn't stand the killing. She never could, even though they were both raised to know without a doubt that the meat was necessary for life. Their mother gave up on the girl right after she was born. She was little and weak and had the appearance of sickliness even though Scarab couldn't remember her ever actually being sick. But their father, he continued to push. "Make her see what I gotta do to feed her." The words were so real it felt as if they echoed around the small bathroom.

So she made her sister be there for the killing, watch the gory scraping, witness the death of something she felt was precious. Every year of her short life she was put through the hell. And Scarab went along with it, and Scarab dragged her there, and Scarab did it because on one level, she knew how right her father was. Not for the first time, she wondered if things had gone differently, if they weren't victims of parents who snapped, would her sister have lived to adulthood? Her gut clenched when the familiar answer settled deep inside her. No. She would not have. Not in that life. Even if they had stayed, even if they had been allowed to grow and blossom as the other village children, the chasm between the life they lead and the gentle constitution of her sister would have grown until it swallowed the girl up in its bitter reality.

Scarab slipped under the water and squeezed her eyes tight. Tenet helped. He jumped in and did what he had to. But she knew the look on his face. It was heart-wrenchingly familiar. He hated himself more and more for his participation as the day went on and there was no way he could hide that. It made a flutter of panic course through her. He had changed so much in so many ways. And yet, there was still that side of him that was dangerously tied to his old way of thinking. She had to break it. He had to be able to kill for food if he needed to. She knew firsthand how quickly situations changed in this environment. She could be killed in a flash, and then where would he be? Berries and nuts and roots were fine, when you could find them. He would not be able to feed himself in the winter if he could not hunt, if he hated himself for butchering. He wouldn't last. And he had to. Tenet had to last.

When the water turned cold and was pink from the cow's blood she soaked off, she pumped the handle to draw some fresh, icy water to rinse quickly. She dried off and dressed, then went out to see if Tenet had gone through with the cooking. He had. The smell of roasting meat hit her as soon as she opened the bathroom door. She sat by the fire to let the warmth dry her hair.

Tenet watched her. After he got the roast in the oven, he sat and stared into the flames of the fire, feeling anger an annoyance bubble inside him. Testing. She was always testing him. And why? Hadn't he proven himself? Hadn't he done everything she asked with very little argument? He had. He had done so much more than even he thought possible of himself. And yet, it wasn't enough. It was never, ever enough. She didn't even thank him for his help with the butchering. Okay, perhaps she shouldn't thank him for that, he had to admit. It was for his benefit as well, even if he'd have preferred another way of finding nourishment through the winter. But she could have at least acknowledged it.

"You look sour tonight."

"I look sour?" He scoffed. "I don't believe this. I look sour, hm? Well maybe I wouldn't look so sour if I wasn't constantly being tested every single day."

Scarab sighed heavily. "Sorry, pal, but that's not going to happen. In case you didn't noticed, life up here is always a test."

Tenet pushed his chair back and stood, then stomped angrily to the oven. He pulled open the door and looked at the roast, his feelings of guilt mixing with his anger at Scarab and himself and life in general. He slammed the oven door shut and suddenly needed to get out of there. He grabbed his coat and ignored Scarab's questions as he all but ran outside into the cold night air.

The bitterness took both his breath and the edge off his anger. He put his coat on quickly and let the iciness burn its way into his lungs. It was amazing how quickly it cooled off without the sun these days. He knew there would be snow very soon, and for the first time, he was beginning to feel a sense of foreboding about the months ahead. He stomped his feet a few times, then decided to walk to the back of the house and check on Darla.

The horse was fine. She didn't seem to mind the cold with just a small blanket on her back. He felt pity for her anyway, and dragged over some more hay. She nosed him and he felt another wave of guilt at the day's butchering. He sat heavily on the hay bale and took a deep breath.

Scarab was right, as much as he hated to admit it. Life up here would be a daily test. Hadn't it already been? Things went from good to horrible in a snap, a blink of the eye. How many times on their journey had they been seconds from death? Far more than he realized at the time, he knew. He had to butcher the meat. He had to know that skill and every other one they'd need to keep alive. He had to be part of it all. And he wanted to. He wanted to be the one that could bring home some food for them. And it was that thought which weighed heavily on him.

Tenet wanted to go with her on the hunt next time. He wanted to. He wanted to be the one to raise the gun, sight an animal that had done nothing bad to him, and pull the trigger. He wanted to be the hero of the day. And he knew without a doubt that he would revel in the feeling. Part of him enjoyed the butchery. Part of him thought about the roasts and the jerky the entire time he was cutting. And part of him was looking forward to dinner. The guilt of that stark realization made him feel sick.

Tenet heard the door open. It echoed in the thin air of the crisp night and he knew Scarab was coming to look for him. He sat there petting Darla, not sure if he was happy that she came to find him or not. She found him easily and stood in the dark doorway of the small stall. He could feel her eyes on him and he knew he should apologize or at least explain. But he couldn't. For once, he really didn't know what to say.

"A long time ago, I was responsible for the life of my sister."

Tenet didn't know what he expected her to say, but it certainly wasn't that. His hand paused on Darla's muzzle and he held his breath to see if she'd continue. To his elation, she did.

"She was born small and weak. She wasn't wanted and it was the opinion of the elders in the village that it would be best not to get attached to her. My parents gave her the very basics of life, as was required, but nothing more. I...had a soft spot for her." Scarab swallowed hard. "I became her keeper. My mother told me over and over how foolish it was, but I..." She stopped speaking for so long Tenet wondered if she was done sharing.

"I didn't listen. And I took her with me everywhere because no one else would."

"Good," Tenet said firmly.

Scarab gave a small, bitter laugh. Good? Good for who? "She wasn't supposed to live here. She wasn't cut out for this kind of life. She was always small and innocent and soft." Her heart clenched at her own words but for once, she made herself keep talking. She needed Tenet to understand. "She hated hunting. She shied away from death. She was scared of everything that came near and I made it my mission to protect her. And in doing that..." The tears stung her eyes and she was grateful for the dark. "I failed her."

Compassion flooded through Tenet. "Scarab..."

"No." Her voice became firm. "Don't do that. Don't excuse it, don't wish it away. If I had forced her to be stronger, let her feel the fear, made her understand..." Then what? Even in her own mind she knew it would have done no good. Her sister was what she was. No amount of pushing or prodding or toughening up would have changed a damn thing. But she had to try. She would spend the rest of her life trying to prevent that from ever happening on her watch again. "I won't do that again," she said hoarsely. "When I have to push, I will push, even if you hate me for it because one day it will mean the difference between you living and dying."

Scarab suddenly made sense to Tenet. Everything about her fell into place; why she only took live bounties even when the payout was so much higher for the deaths; why she gave up her career to help him escape a callous, self-centered father; why it was hard for her to get close, to lower the walls. She made it her life's mission to atone for the death of her sister. Tenet was stunned and humbled and felt such a surge of protectiveness that he stood and crossed to her without thought. He had his arms around her before he even realized it.

Scarab lifted her hands to push him away. "Tenet..."

Tenet held her tighter. "I'm not your sister, Scarab," he said softly as he placed a kiss on her head. "I'm not your bounty." He kissed her forehead so gently she let out a little gasp. "We're not your parents or mine." He trailed feather light kisses down her cheek and Scarab's hands clenched around the flaps of his coat, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. Tenet drew his head back and looked at her. Her eyes were wide and shiny and she drew in shaky little breaths. "I love you," he whispered.

Scarab's eyes went wider and she shook her head. "No."

Tenet's chuckle rumbled through him. "No? Sorry, wife. There's nothing you can do about it."

Scarab stared up at him, the well of emotions she always kept carefully sealed threatening to burst. Her hands clutched his jacket until her knuckles turned white, needing an anchor. Her head was swimming in confusion, her heart thumped painfully in her chest, and blood rushed in her ears. Panic ripped through her, the same terror she always felt when people got too close. He loved her? He couldn't. He shouldn't, anyway. She didn't deserve it. She needed to push him away and get some space. She needed to go away again. Go on another hunt. Spend some time alone and give the heat a chance to cool and then she could think. That's all she needed. She needed space to think.

Then why were her hands still gripping his jacket and holding him as if she was terrified he'd leave? Scarab was so confused. She hated feeling. Feelings were messy. Feelings were dangerous. Feelings got people in trouble and got them hurt.

Tenet watched the play of emotions of Scarab's face with a hopeful amusement. Though she was normally so good at schooling her features, her eyes betrayed every thought. He could see her desires, the desire for space, the desire for the ease of loneliness, but, most importantly, her deep desire for him. He felt the warmth inside spread and his arms tightened around his wife. "And you love me," he whispered, saying it for her because he knew she simply could not.

A little sob escaped and Scarab realized it came from her. A hot tear burned its way down her cold cheek and when Tenet reached up and brushed it away with more tenderness than she had ever known in her hard, cold life, Scarab didn't have it in her to fight any longer. She didn't want more distance. She didn't want the icy emptiness inside. She wanted the warm comfort of Tenet's arms. She wanted the heat she felt when he looked at her, and the overwhelming fullness being around him gave. Before Scarab lost her nerve, she threw her arms around Tenet's neck and jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing his lips to stop his sudden laughter.

When he stopped laughing and kissed her back, Scarab's mind went blank. When his hands slid down her back and cupped her to him, she didn't feel any of the old fear. And when he carried her into their bedroom and finally joined with her, she felt nothing but a soul deep satisfaction.

They ate burned roast for dinner that night, staring at each other over the plates they had brought into their bedroom. Tenet had a goofy grin on his face that Scarab tried very hard to find annoying.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, blushing, confused by the unfamiliar feeling of femininity inside.

Tenet's grin broadened. "Never."

Scarab's heart fluttered and she bit back her own goofy grin. She picked up another bite of horribly charred beef, looking for anything to focus on other than the warm embarrassment she felt at his knowing gaze. She took another bite and didn't even care how terrible it tasted. It could be a bowl of ashes and she wouldn't care. She knew if she let them the feelings inside would take over. She didn't want to get soft and weak. She had no plans whatsoever of turning into one of those simpering housewives. And yet, a part of her that had always been aching had stopped hurting. Something inside felt healed.

"I'm still going to be hard," she said after long moments of silence.

Ah, Tenet thought to himself. That's what was going through her head while she sat there so quiet. "And I'm still going to work your last nerve," he promised.

"I mean it," she insisted, looking at him intently. "This...this didn't change anything." Her cheeks turned red again.

"Yes, wife, it did," Tenet said. He took their plates and put them on the table next to the bed, then pulled her hand until she sat in his lap. "We are now a real team. But we are still us. I am still a naive dumb bastard, and you are still a testy, calculating bitch." He broke out into a quick grin. "Feel better?"

For some reason, she did.

Chapter 13

Mirvena sat across from the former hunter and assessed her quietly for quite awhile. She always told her people that she was meditating when she did it, but really, Mirvena was just being nosy and rude. She'd take the time to gawk and study while they believed she was praying. It was one of her best kept secrets, and something she'd giggle over when she was alone. It was amazing what she could get away with under the guise of meditation.

Mirvena had to give Scarab credit. The woman sat stiff and straight and proud under Mirvena's intense scrutiny. Her face was blank and the only movements she made were infrequent blinking and the steady, slow breaths she took. She sat with her legs crossed and her hands on her knees, the classic pose of Celtist meditation. It was Mirvena's first real interaction with the girl and she wasn't disappointed. This former hunter was a true mystery, and Mirvena looked forward to unlocking her secrets. The winter was already long and boring and it would certainly spice things up a bit.

"You should have requested a session with me earlier," Mirvena said nearly an hour later when she decided she had tested the girl's patience enough.

"I have been busy," Scarab said carefully. She hesitated only a second before adding, "Grandmother."

Mirvena's eyes sparkled. So the girl was a Celtist! Major Krupkie had sent a report guessing that it might be true. Mirvena's amusement faded as her mind considered the implications of the new knowledge. "I believe you do the hunting for your man, do you not?"

Scarab knew what the old woman was doing. Her own grandmother had been quiet similar to Mirvena, and even though it made her squirm inside with a deep, long standing discomfort, Scarab had to appreciate the familiarity. "I do," she answered simply.

"It is usually the husband that feeds his wife."

Scarab's jaw twitched for a second and her eyes flashed in defiance. "He feeds me. I hunt it. He cooks. Is it not just as important to cook to feed your family?"

Mirvena liked the girl. If she wasn't the priestess, if there weren't so many lives riding on her shoulders, then she would do as she wished and clap and cheer for the woman's cleverness. She would much rather meet with this Scarab in her home over tea instead of in the formal temple with the cloying scent of cleansing incense thickening the air. Mirvena sighed inside, once again hating the confines of leadership. She had to make certain this former hunter was not a threat to her community, and no matter how much she liked the girl, she still wasn't sure. It had been two full months and the most she had seen of the woman was a few quick glances when Scarab would guard Tenet while he traded in town. It made her people nervous that Scarab never spoke and always stared them down when they approached her man. It was up to Mirvena to settle their minds, and that began with a formal interview.

"I will concede that cooking is important," Mirvena said diplomatically. "However, some of the wives feel uncomfortable that you hunt alongside their husbands."

Scarab took a second to calm the flash of anger. "I have never needed to hunt by anyone's side. I can handle game on my own. I do not even hunt on Ogden land. Their fears are unwarranted."

She was proud, this bounty hunter. "You trade with Wren McKay," Mirvena pointed out.

Scarab nodded. "I do. I'd trade with his wife if she would prefer. However, since the woman refuses to even look in my direction, I do not see that happening."

"I see," Mirvena said simply before falling into another long silence.

Scarab was calm on the outside only because of years of such interviews as a child. She knew what to do. She knew to sit in the meditation pose and wait. She knew that the Grandmother would lead the procedure, and that any breech in protocol would be seen as not only an insult, but an action deserving a punishment. She forced her back to remain straight, her hands to remain relaxed on her knees, and her features to remain calm. However, inside, she churned with anger, apprehension, defensiveness, and fear. This meeting was important. Not to her, but to Tenet. The village was so close to accepting him, and that would never fully happen if she didn't seek approval for herself. She hated, absolutely hated the knowledge that she would have to measure up to anyone else's standards. But she would do just about anything for Tenet.

"You were a bounty hunter," Mirvena said simply.

"Yes." There was no use lying. Though Scarab doubted there was any real magic in the world, she had to admit that Celtist priestesses had an uncanny ability to spot a lie. Though she and Tenet had kept up the story of being failed tomato farmers to the community at large, she knew she was safe telling Mirvena about their past. Mirvena would keep any confidence simply because that was demanded of a priestess.

"Have you killed?"

Scarab wasn't exactly shocked by the question, but she was a little taken aback by the directness. She admired that. "Yes."

"I see." Mirvena knew it. There was a look in a person's eye after they took a life that never went away. And yet, she didn't see the eyes of a killer. She saw the eyes of a hard woman who lived a hard life and made it through however she had to. Mirvena knew the knowledge that human blood was on Scarab's hands wouldn't set well with the women of the village. They already believed Scarab to be more of a warrior than a woman, more of a man than wife. Mirvena doubted it mattered much to this hunter, but it did matter to the overall happiness and harmony of the septad.

Scarab waited to see if Mirvena was going to ask for an explanation. She was well within her rights to, and Scarab wouldn't be offended. Though she hadn't taken many lives, she knew the ones she did take were due to unavoidable circumstances and held no guilt.

"Have you ever enjoyed it?"

"Killing?" Scarab's face almost cracked and her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Of course not."

The girl was speaking the truth, something Mirvena knew anyway. Tenet was a good man. An innocent and often bumbling, one, true. But a good man. A good person. A kind and giving human being. He would not be able to form a deep attachment to someone who was not also a good person. Mirvena just wanted to judge the girl's reaction when she asked. The former bounty hunter passed another critical test. Mirvena made a mental check mark on the list in her head. On to the next issue.

"The woman of the village do not like you."

Scarab nodded. "I know."

"And you make my warriors nervous."

Scarab couldn't help the flicker of pride that flamed inside. Did she really? She'd have to tell Tenet that he was right, that she wasn't losing her edge. "They have nothing to fear from me, Grandmother."

Mirvena pressed her lips together to keep from smiling at the girl's pride. She should chastise her. She should point out all the ways that pride was bad, then make the girl meditate on it for hours until she could explain the harm a prideful existence could to do a community. But the girl wasn't one of hers. She wasn't really in the septad, was she? "You call me Grandmother."

Scarab opened her mouth, then closed it again, for the first time unsure. She gave a quick nod. "Yes."

Mirvena stroked her chin. "It is not normal to come across a Southlander that is familiar with our ways."

"I expect not," Scarab said carefully. She knew what was coming and saw no way to avoid it. She swallowed hard and waited, letting her hands clench on her knees.

Mirvena noticed the change in the girl's eyes and saw her fingers digging into her legs. Though her face was still schooled, the little signs of fear were unmistakable. Mirvena had a fleeting thought to let the conversation end. The woman was clearly not a threat to the community and she could report that to the septad with a clear conscience. But Mirvena just couldn't let it pass. She had to know. She'd ask, then decide what to do with the knowledge, if anything.

"In which septad were you raised?"

Scarab swallowed hard. She wanted to get up and leave. She wanted to tell the meddling old biddy where to shove her questions and storm out of there. She would tell Tenet they had to move on and come first thaw, they'd head out for a better life in a place where people left them alone.

But Tenet didn't want to be alone. Tenet needed people. And Scarab had to admit, if only to herself, that their little cottage offered her a sense of belonging that she had never known, not even as a child. She couldn't screw this up for him. She couldn't screw it up for them. She took a deep breath.

"I was a member of the Clough septad."

Mirvena couldn't help her eyes from widening. "Yes, I know that area. On the base of Mt. Macklemore, correct?" At Scarab's nod, Mirvena felt a deep sadness for the girl settle inside. The Clough septad no longer existed. They caved to the requests of the government and turned many of their people out. She had two former members in Ogden, ones she had offered shelter when their lives fell apart. The Clough septad was once a powerful force in the Celtist community. They were orthodox. and many other septads held them up as the standard, the pinnacle of all things that the Celtist religion represented.

However, Mirvena had heard the stories from the survivors. Even before a new priestess became corrupt, the Cloughs were hard and unforgiving, and they used their orthodox label as a shield for all the atrocities they committed in the name of "the old ways." Many of the other forward-thinking septad priestesses were just as happy as Mirvena was when the Cloughs fell. While it was a tragedy that their people had to suffer for it, the leaders had grown weak and greedy, two traits in direct opposition to the tenets, ethics, and morals of a true septad, and painted a horrible picture to the rest of the world of what it was to be a Celtist. They were a blight Mirvena was not sorry to see gone.

Mirvena let the thoughts roll through her until her stomach calmed. The poor girl. No wonder she was cold. No wonder she was leery. No wonder her eyes were constantly filled with doubt and skepticism and mistrust. The Celtists of her past earned every bit of that fear and hatred from the girl. That and so much more. Mirvena had to tread lightly. She did not want to be seen in the same light as those from Scarab's past. She did not want her own peaceful Ogden to continue to torture the woman with the thought that one day, they would become that which she feared most.

"We are a progressive septad," Mirvena said carefully. "We are not orthodox in all the ways that count." She saw interest in Scarab's eyes, in spite of the fact that her nails were still biting into her knees. "We do not make sacrifices to the Mother. We do not practice mandatory prayer. We do require our children to attend our own schoolings, and that most certainly does include the religious teachings, but we have also embraced sciences and technologies, as you have no doubt noticed."

Scarab wondered at the change. Why was Mirvena suddenly telling her these things? It was almost as if the woman wanted Scarab to accept them, instead of the other way around. "I have noticed these things," Scarab said when Mirvena seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"We protect our own. We treasure every life. We honor the power and beauty of the breath of the Mother that is breathed into each and every member of our community and we do everything in our power to make sure that life force continues." Aha, Mirvena thought. The hunter's eyes grew shiny with tears. She hit the mark. She knew she shouldn't press, but just couldn't help herself. "Is there any family of yours left?"

Scarab pressed her lips together to stop the trembling. It felt as if Mirvena had looked deep inside and pulled out the one part of her that would make her crack. She would not crack. She would not break. "No," she said firmly.

"But there was," Mirvena pressed.

"Yes," Scarab confirmed.

"Tell me of them."

Scarab set her jaw. "No."

Mirvena was half expecting it. She was prying deep, after all, and she knew her questions were not only unwelcome but far too personal. Still, the denial irked her. She was the priestess. She was not used to people telling her no. "No?" she asked with the quirk of an eyebrow.

"No. You may not have those memories. They are mine and mine alone."

There was the sudden flash of bounty hunter, the side that terrified her people. Mirvena had never really seen it for herself before, and finally understood the power this small woman in front of her could radiate. Had she stayed in a Celtist village, had she joined some other septad, perhaps, she would no doubt have risen to priestess status. And now, Mirvena knew where that power came from, where the cold hunter that Scarab projected was born and lived. Mirvena knew now that it was defense mechanism, a way for this lost, scared girl to make sure all that pain never happened to her again.

"I will let you have your memories," Mirvena surprised Scarab by saying. "You have earned them. However, the day will come when you will have a need to get rid of them. The day will come when you are ready to leave those souls of the past that haunt you behind and move on. Should you need to leave them in someone's care, I will gladly bear that burden."

It was a generous offer. It let Scarab know she was welcome in Ogden, at least by the priestess if no one else. But her emotions were still raw. The meeting had been a source of roiling terror inside all week and not even Tenet's calming words had been enough to ease her trepidation. And then the woman brought up the past, the very thing that Scarab was determined not to share...it was too much. While the offer was generous, there was no way Scarab would take Mirvena up on it.

Mirvena watched Scarab's eyes and knew the girl wasn't going to let her get that close. It was a shame, but Mirvena didn't feel it was hopeless. Perhaps the years to come would lower the walls. She really hoped so. She would very much like the opportunity to really get to know this interesting young woman. "The offer shall stand if you feel you should like to take me up on it," Mirvena said, then nodded. "That will do."

Scarab knew she was being dismissed. She stood and bowed, as was expected, and turned to leave.

"A word of advice," Mirvena said before Scarab left. "The women, they are a difficult but kind lot. You would do well to..." Mirvena was going to say "make friends", but thought better of it. She could not see the women of her septad forming a friendship with Scarab. As cruel as that sounded, she firmly believed it wasn't even what Scarab wanted, either. "You would do well to stop scaring them."

Scarab's mouth twitched. "I will do my best, Grandmother."

Mirvena's eyes twinkled and she nodded, then she motioned to the door, holding her laughter in check until Scarab was gone from the temple. She sighed heavily and folded her hands to mediate on all she had learned.

Scarab leaned against the closed door and shut her eyes, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. The meeting went about as she expected, though Mirvena was far more of a gossip than the other priestesses she'd known in her life. She pried, and Scarab hadn't expected that. Still, there was humor in her eyes, and she made the huge offer of carrying Scarab's burden for her. Scarab could go to Tenet and let him know that they were accepted without having to lie, and that made her feel almost happy.

She pushed off the door and turned to head down the long, quiet hallway of the temple. As she went, she took a minute to study the painted lore of the septad that decorated the hall from floor to ceiling. She was too tense on her way in to pay it much attention, but she walked slowly and looked at the large, garish figures that spelled out the history of Ogden. It was familiar, and yet there were glaring differences. The Clough septad were orthodox and only used pigments from the earth in their art work that had been unaltered. Flowers were crushed, but not mixed together. Animals were bled, their life force used as paint, but not protected and allowed to discolor over time. There was never any use of metals, for the orthodox Celtists didn't mine or smelt, and things like glass and plastics were forbidden. They also tended to try and represent things as they really were, to make a human face look as close to real as possible within the confines of their natural materials.

The Ogden septad was not as restricted. Their paints included purples and blues that could not be found in the natural world, and the large painted panels were rimmed with the metals they proudly forged. The people in the pictures were represented differently as well. A face was a simple circle with shadow, a body represented by a large, swooping, graceful twist of interwoven lines. It told a story through artistic rendering more than historical chronicle, and that intrigued Scarab. These were certainly different Celtists than she had known. She stopped in front of a panel that showed the Mother, the earth Herself, with the triangle of stations branching out below.

The Mother was at the top. The Grandmother and the Grandfather were in the corners, the three major stations of the triangle. They were the three foundations for the Celtist religion, and all the castes fit between them. Between the Mother and Grandmother were Nurturers, generally the women of the septad that would bear and raise the children, though Scarab knew that sometimes there was a gentle man who was much more valuable to the septad helping with the children than wielding a bow and arrow. Healers also fell into this category for the most part, but every septad needed Warrior Healers as well for the battlefield. Between the Mother and the Grandfather were the Warriors, generally the men that would protect the septad and hunt. Between the Grandfather and the Grandmother, on the bottom of the triangle as the third important block in the base, there were the Farmers, those who would grow food and harvest it to nourish the septad. And in the very center, protected and enhanced by all the others was the Historian, who would keep and share the knowledge that was gathered by all the stations of the septad. Every member of a septad fit into one of the groups. Everyone had a place.

Scarab studied the beautiful triangle and wondered where she fit in. Tenet could be a Nurturer. Or a Warrior Healer, though she knew he wouldn't like that life. He was definitely a Farmer, too. She sighed. He could fit in almost anywhere he chose. Where was she?

"What does this mean?" Tenet asked.

Scarab hadn't heard him come up behind her. "Are you done with the Historian?"

Tenet smiled at her tone. He knew Scarab couldn't stand Gwyn. Gwyn was perky and bubbly and talked incessantly, almost even too much for Tenet to handle some days. Scarab couldn't stand the woman and was annoyed to no end that Tenet agreed to share his stories for her chronicles, even though she knew he must. "For today," Tenet told her, standing close but making sure not to touch. Scarab hated it when Tenet showed affection in public and he tried his best to honor that.

"Meddling, prying little..." Scarab began to mutter.

Tenet chuckled and put his hand on her back. "Historian who has a job to do and I'm just helping her do it," he finished for her. Scarab stopped her grumbling and took a deep breath. When Tenet was sure she was done talking like that, at least in the temple, he dropped his hand and motioned to the painting again. "So, does it mean anything? Or is it just really pretty art."

"It is pretty, isn't it?" The golds and bronzes and purples with their abstract shapes and broad, sweeping strokes evoked emotion. They were far more powerful than the picture stories she knew as a child. The ones in the Clough septad always made her feel sad, or guilty. "This hall tells the story of this septad," Scarab explained. "It doesn't just mean anything, it means everything."

Slowly Scarab was opening up to him. He knew more about her than probably anyone else ever had, or ever would. She trusted him and little by little, she let him in. When they were alone, she never hesitated to answer his questions about life in a Celtist community. Though direct information about her own family was still largely taboo, her answers came more and more easily when he kept his questions general.

Scarab explained the triangle, the very foundation of the Celtist religion. As he always did, Tenet tried very hard not to pepper her with questions while she spoke. And as he always did, Tenet failed. He just couldn't help it.

"But what do the Grandfather and Grandmother _do_?"

"They support everyone else. They are here to be extensions of the Mother, to guide humans."

Tenet frowned. "But a grandmother, by definition, would be more important than the mother."

Scarab sighed. "Are you going to let me finish explaining?" Tenet waved a hand. She went on to explain the Warriors, and how they could also have Healers.

"No, nope. Sorry," Tenet said, cutting her off. "You can't have a killer and a healer in the same category. They are polar opposites."

Tenet looked so serious, as if he was personally insulted by the contradictions. Scarab's eyes twinkled. "I didn't write this crap. I'm just telling you about it. Can I continue?" Tenet waved a hand. "Now, the Nurturers also have Healers, but the majority are mothers."

"Then why aren't the real mothers _Mothers_?"

"Because there is only one Mother. Earth. And everything we are, everything we have, everything we can be starts with Her."

Tenet's eyebrow quirked. He wondered if she even realized she said "we". He decided he'd do best if he didn't point it out. "So, the Mother, like the big lady herself, is everything?"

"Yes," Scarab said again, getting a headache. "Honestly, it's not a difficult concept. I don't know why you're having such a hard time."

Tenet pressed his lips together and vowed to keep his mouth shut. He listened to the rest of her explanations without butting in again. When she was finished, she asked if he had any questions. Of course he had questions. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. But he knew it was in his best interest to tell her no and figure things out later.

"Good," she said, heading for the door. "I've had about as much temple education as I can take for one day."

Tenet followed her outside and pulled his hood up when the wind drove fresh flakes into his face. "I didn't know it started to snow again," he grumbled, shoving his hands in gloves.

"It'll be a bad one," Scarab said, looking at the color of the sky.

Tenet looked up and studied the clouds. To him, they looked just the same as the clouds they saw the day before and the day before that. "How in the hell do you tell?" he asked as he always did.

"Experience." She snapped her own hood on to brace herself against the wind and walked to their horse. She untied Darla's reins from the post and hopped on, scooting forward while Tenet struggled to settle in behind her. He took the reins from her hands and clicked his tongue, then they started for home.

"So," he said when they were starting down the hill that lead from the temple to the center of town. "Are you going to tell me how it went with Mirvena?"

"Fine," Scarab said.

Tenet smiled. "Fine in Scarab-speak, or actually fine?"

"Scarab-speak?"

"Yes. You know. Fine. Good. Yes, dear."

Scarab snorted. "I have never in my life said 'yes, dear.'"

Tenet's arms tightened around her slightly and he chuckled. "You know what I mean."

Scarab took a breath and nodded. "Yeah. I do. It went fine, like honestly fine. I think. She's very nosy."

"I thought so, too. But then, I'm nosy myself so I don't really mind." He felt that she was relaxed and knew a big burden had been lifted from her. The meeting went well, he was sure of it. She would be a steaming, swearing, snapping mess if it hadn't.

"You are two nosy peas in a pod."

"Yes, ma'am." He steered Darla towards the main store. "Hans should have that secondary therm tape for me. Mind if I swing in and pick it up?"

Scarab shook her head and looked around, assessing any possible dangers. She couldn't help it. When they were around other people, she could not relax. Mirvena said Scarab made the other women nervous. If only the other women knew how nervous they made Scarab, perhaps they wouldn't be so quick to judge.

They reached the store and Tenet hopped down first, then handed the reins up. "Keep the engine running, wife. I'll only be a minute." He grinned a stupid grin and Scarab rolled her eyes and bit back her own smile. Normally she would get down and stand right outside the door, sizing up any townspeople as they approached just in case something went wrong or one of them got a funny idea in their head to try something.

However, Mirvena's words echoed in her head. As difficult as it was, Scarab forced herself to stay up on Darla's back. She was holding the reins too tightly, and Darla started to stomp and snort. Scarab eased up and patted the horse's neck, looking around and wishing Tenet would hurry. She felt so vulnerable on top of the agitated animal. It would take extra time to pull a weapon and there was no where to hide and no place to duck if...

"Got it," Tenet said, coming out of the store and carefully walking down the slippery steps. He tucked the small package in his coat and pulled himself up behind Scarab. He felt the tension ease in his wife and wondered what was going through her head that made her so on guard, while at the same time just being glad he could actually put her at ease, that his presence alone was enough to soothe her nerves. He gently took the reins and guided Darla home.

They made it to their house before the snow began to fall in heavy sheets, and Tenet was glad. They had several inches of snow on the ground already, far more than he'd ever seen in his life at one time. Scarab insisted that while it had been cold and windy, there still hadn't been a real snowstorm. The last time it snowed, Tenet had insisted up and down that the few inches constituted a storm. Scarab told him to wait and see.

They rubbed down Darla together, then placed her blanket over her back and shut the little door they'd built into the small horse shed. Little by little they were adding to their home when the weather permitted, and the shed now offered enough protection for their horse that Scarab no longer worried whether the beast would make it through the winter or not. Already in the habit of grabbing things when they could, they each stopped at the tarp that covered the large pile of firewood and filled their arms. The wind whipped the door open as soon as Tenet turned the knob and blew tufts of snow across his living room floor. He frowned and sighed and wondered if he'd spend the rest of his life getting his socks wet from melted snow.

"I'll bank the fire," Scarab called from across the room, already kneeling in front of the large central fireplace and coaxing the coals back to life. "Maybe you should get a few more loads of wood? This is going to be a real storm."

Tenet rolled his eyes, dropped his load of wood, then went out for more. He did that one more time before they were satisfied they had enough to last awhile. "I'll get dinner going," he told her, shaking out his jacket and pulling off his gloves.

"No turnips this time," Scarab said. If she had to eat one more damn turnip that week, she'd lose her mind.

"Oh," Tenet said frowning. He loved turnips and didn't mind having them over and over. He supposed that really wasn't very fair, and changed the plan in his head. "Okay, then. What about a jerked stew?"

"With onions?"

Tenet smiled. Of course with onions. They were the only vegetable Scarab ate with any real appreciation. "Yes, with onions. You can't have a stew without onions. And carrots. And dried peas," he said, knowing he was pressing his luck.

Scarab pointed a finger in warning at him. "You sneak one single turnip in, buster, and I swear I'll crack your skull."

Tenet laughed. "No turnips! I promise." He smiled at her and didn't miss the answering glint in her eye. He felt like skipping dinner and heading right to bed, but he could guess how that would go over. He turned and started preparing dinner, whistling to himself as he chopped the dried vegetables and added them to the pot to simmer together over the fire.

"Fire's ready whenever you are," Scarab said, coming up behind him and snatching a piece of jerky from the jar and popping it in her mouth.

"Thanks," Tenet said. He picked up the chopping block and tipped the diced jerky into the deep, cast iron pot and put the heavy lid on top. He handed it to Scarab, and she looped the handle over the thick hook in the big fireplace. They sat together on the large cushioned bench, idly watching the fire and thinking over their events of the day.

"I think things really did go well with Mirvena," Scarab said eventually.

"Good."

"She's not really what I expected. It's different here."

Tenet put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close to rest on his chest. He knew by the tone of her voice that she was feeling vulnerable and he would give her any support he could, even if she'd probably end up pushing him away until she could sort out the thoughts for herself. "Wanna talk?"

Tenet asking before he pelted her with questions? That was a first. Scarab gave a small laugh. "Aren't we being gentlemanly today." She felt Tenet's smile, but he said nothing. "I don't know," she answered honestly.

"You don't have to."

"I...I don't always feel bad here," she said quietly, not knowing how to explain better than that.

"And you did when you were a child?"

She nodded against his chest.

Tenet kissed her head, aching for her. "I did, too. Always."

He understood. Scarab nestled in and stared at the fire knowing she didn't need to say anything else. Of course he understood. He had more money and a higher station in life than she had, but he really did understand what it felt like to always think you were bad, to always be trying to make up for your own deficiencies, to keep trying and trying and never measure up. "You haven't been bad a day in your life."

Tenet was about to tell her the same, then closed his mouth. He would say it, she would disagree, and then there would be an evening of uncomfortable silence. Only time would prove to her that she was worth it, and he had plenty of both time and patience.

The wind howled around the house, making Tenet jump and Scarab chuckle. "I hate when it does that," he said, willing his heart to slow down.

"Sounds just like a wraith, doesn't it?"

Tenet shivered and kissed Scarab's head again before standing and crossing to a window. "It's really blowing out there," he said, as he watched the white swirl twist and dance around the yard. It was snowing so hard he couldn't see the line of trees at the edge of the clearing and he shivered.

"Now this is a real snowstorm," Scarab said coming up beside him. She felt his shiver and leaned in, silently letting him know she was there.

"How deep will it get?" he asked.

Scarab shrugged. "I don't know. A foot, maybe more. It's a big one."

Tenet's eyes went wide. "A foot?"

"Probably more," Scarab confirmed.

"But how will we walk in it?"

Scarab glanced up at his rapidly paling face and fell a little more in love with him. "We will walk in it the same way we walked in the ash."

Tenet looked down at his wife and tried to shake the shivering cold he felt when he stared at the falling snow. "But it's not the same as ash."

Scarab shook her head. "No, but it's the same idea. It's something different that you've never done before, right?"

"Right."

"And I have. Right?"

Tenet's mouth spread into a slow smile. "Right."

Scarab nodded. "Then you're in good hands and have nothing to worry about," she said firmly, as if that settled everything.

And for Tenet, it did. It didn't matter what winter brought. It didn't matter what would happen in the spring when Krupkie returned. Out in the world somewhere his father still hunted him, still searched, and he had some very dangerous and potentially lethal help in his mission. Their safe haven was most likely only temporary, and all too soon they'd probably have to give it up. And yet, none of that mattered. Tenet stood at the window of his house with his wife and stared into the snow that would always terrify him, and he sighed contentedly.

His wife was right. He was in good hands. And for the moment, he had nothing to worry about.

~~~~~~~* * * * *~~~~~~~

About the Author:

Beth is finding it harder and harder to come up with interesting ways to say the same things about herself over and over. Perhaps some random trivia would be the way to go.

Clowns creep her out because of an unnecessarily scary light switch cover that she had no choice but to touch every night to turn out the lights. She hates okra and cilantro, but likes Brussels sprouts. Go figure. She once ate a bagel that a random stranger gave her at 1 a.m. in an Atlanta alley, and no, "bagel" is not a euphemism. She has been trying to come up with a contraption to help pick apples from the top branches of a 35 ft high tree for 9 years now with varying degrees of success and/or mild concussions. And she keeps up with pop culture for the sole purpose of shocking her teenagers with her knowledge of the latest phrase, band, or meme.

When not writing, she's often screwing around on the internet. Feel free to send her an email here, or join her Facebook page here!

Other great books by Beth Reason:

Broken Tenets: _Book 1 of the Tenet Series_

A Journey Deep

** Coming soon to Smashwords, **Tenets of War**. Look for it in early 2014! **
