Morrighan - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,18

A man. But then I saw him as Ama and the rest of the tribe would. A scavenger. Dangerous. One of them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked and rushed over to me, holding my arms as if some part of me were injured.

“There’s been a raid. A tribe in the north was attacked.”

I saw all I needed to know in his eyes. I pulled free, sobs jumping to my throat. “By the gods, Jafir.” I stumbled away, unable to see clearly, wishing I were anywhere else but here. I staggered deeper into the darkness of the ruin.

“Let me explain,” he begged, following, grabbing at my hand, trying to stop me.

I jerked free and whirled. “Explain what?” I yelled. “What did you get, Jafir? Their bread? A baby goat? What did you take that didn’t belong to you?”

He stared at me, a vein rising on his neck. His chest rose in deep, controlled breaths. “I had no choice, Morrighan. I had to ride with my clan. That is how I got this,” he said, motioning to his bruised face. “My father demanded that I go. Our northern kin were coming and—”

“And their mouths were more important than the tribe’s?”

“No. That’s not it at all. It is desperation. It’s—”

“It is laziness!” I spat. “It is greed! It is—”

“It is wrong, Morrighan. I know that. I swear to you, after that day, I vowed never to ride with them again, and I won’t. It sickened me, but—” He shook his head and turned away as if he didn’t want me to look upon him. He truly did look sick.

I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to turn back to me. “But what, Jafir?”

“I understood too!” he shouted, no longer apologetic. “When I saw the children eating, when I heard a mother crying, I understood their fear. We die, Morrighan. We die just like you! Not all of us hit our children. Sometimes we die for them—and maybe even do the unspeakable for them.”

I opened my mouth with a biting reply, but the anguish in his expression made me swallow it. Fatigue washed over me. I looked down at the floor, my shoulders suddenly heavy. “How many?” I asked. “Children?”

“Eight.” His voice was as thin as mist. “The oldest is four, the youngest only a few months old.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. It was still no excuse!

“Morrighan. Please.”

I looked up. He pulled me to his chest, and my tears were warm against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You’re a scavenger, Jafir,” I said, feeling the hopelessness of who he was.

“But I want to be more. I will be more.” He lifted my face to his, kissing away a tear on my cheek.

“So … this is what you’ve been hunting every day.”

Jafir and I jumped apart, startled by the voice.

A man walked through the door, a casual swagger to his step. “Well done, brother. You found the tribe. Where’s the rest?”

“Why are you here?” Jafir demanded.

“Pretty thing. What’s your name, girl?” he said, ignoring Jafir. His cold blue eyes slowly rolled over me, and I felt like prey in the sights of a hungry animal. He stepped closer, studying me, then smiled.

“She’s a straggler from the tribe we raided,” Jafir told him. “They are moving on.”

“I don’t remember seeing her among them.”

“That’s because your sights were set on another.”

I couldn’t breathe. A wild beat pounded in my head.

“Moving on, but not before you have some fun?” He looked back at me. “Come here,” he said, waving me forward with his hand. “I won’t bite.”

Jafir stepped in front of me. “What do you want, Steffan?”

“Just what you’ve been enjoying. We are kin. We share.” He moved to step around Jafir, and Jafir lunged at him. They both stumbled back and slammed up against the far wall. Dust rained down around them. Though Jafir was taller, Steffan was stout, built more like a bull, and there was weight behind his fist. He punched Jafir in the gut, then again in the jaw. Jafir staggered back but in the next breath swung, his fist cracking against Steffan’s chin. He lunged again, knocking Steffan to the floor this time, and in an instant, his knife was at Steffan’s throat.

“Go ahead, brother,” Jafir yelled between heaving breaths. “Move! I’d love to slice this across your thick neck!” He pressed the blade closer.

Steffan glared at me, then back at his brother. “You are greedy, Jafir. Keep her to yourself, then,” he sneered. “Her kind are