Morrighan - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,12

in his tone, the defensive boy I had met so long ago.

I circled my hands around his waist, taking in the warmth of his back against my cheek. “Stories must begin somewhere, Jafir,” I said gently. “Maybe they can begin with you?”

I felt the stiffening of his shoulders. A shrug. He broke loose from my grip, turning suddenly. “Let’s go for a ride. I want to show you something.”

“Where?” I asked suspiciously. There was not a corner of this small closed-in canyon we hadn’t explored.

“Not far,” he said, taking my hand. “I promise. It’s a lake that—”

I frowned and pulled my hand away. We’d had this conversation before. The boundaries of the small box canyon seemed to grow smaller each day. Jafir chafed against its limits. He was used to riding freely in the open plains and fields, a risk I couldn’t take. “Jafir, if someone sees me—”

He drew me close, his lips grazing mine, stalling my words that waited there. “Morrighan,” he whispered against them, “I would cut out my own heart before I would let any harm come to you.” He reached up, stroking my head. “I would not risk a single hair, or a lost eyelash.” He kissed me tenderly, and heat flooded through me.

Suddenly he jumped back, lifting his arms to the side to show his muscles. “And look!” he said, a grin teasing at the corner of his mouth. “I am strong! I am fierce!”

“You are a fool!” I laughed.

He put on a startled face, feigning fear and looking heavenward. “Beware the gods!”

Perhaps I had told him too many stories.

His smile faded. “Please, Morrighan,” he said quietly. “Trust me. No one will see us. Let me ride with you and show you some of the things I love.”

My heart thumped, the familiar no beating behind it, but … I did love to ride with him. At first I’d been afraid, but Jafir was a good teacher, gently coaxing me onto the huge animal’s back, and quickly I discovered I loved the feel of his horse beneath us, Jafir’s strong arms circling around me, the strange sense that we were connected, forever inseparable as we rode together. I loved the giddy feeling as the meadow blurred beneath us, the feeling that we had wings, that we were swift and powerful and nothing in the world could stop us.

I looked at him and nodded. “Just this once,” I said.

“Just this once,” he repeated.

But I knew I was opening another kind of door, and like before, it was one that could never be closed again.

Chapter Eleven

Morrighan

“What is beyond the mountains, Ama?”

“Nothing for us, child.”

We sat in the shade of a sycamore, full and leafy with summer, grinding the last of our amaranth seed into powder.

“Are you certain?” I asked.

“I’ve told you the story before. It was where your papa journeyed from. Only he and a handful of others made it out. The devastation was even worse there. It was far more brutal than anything on this side of the mountains. He watched many die.”

She had told me about the choking clouds, the fires, the shaking ground, the wild animals. The people. All the things that papa had told her.

“But he was only a child, and that was a long time ago,” I said.

“Not long enough,” she answered. “I remember the fear in your papa’s eyes when he spoke of it. He was glad to be where we are now, on this side.”

I saw the age on Ama. She was still healthy, robust even, for a woman her age, but weariness lined her face. Moving on and keeping the tribe safe had been an endless journey for her. Here in this vale she had found rest now for almost two years, but lately I had seen her scanning the surrounding hills and bluffs. Did she sense something else? Or was it just an old habit resurfacing? Was she afraid to believe that peace could last?

I desperately wanted to tell her, The scavengers are leaving. Our peace and boundaries would only grow if we stayed. But she’d wonder how I knew, and I couldn’t tell her what Jafir had told me—that our nearest threat might soon be gone forever. His clan wanted to leave. They talked of going to the other side of the mountains. Maybe even beyond that. I had seen the worry in his eyes when he told me. I felt it in my heart. If they left, would he leave too?

“What kind of animals?” I asked.

Ama paused