front of Morgan. And now, if not for a startling dream, would she have taken his life, the one who offered her help when no one else would? Could she ever be trusted?
He turned to Dikaios, but the horse said no more. His big eyes drilled an icy stare.
Finally, as Naamah’s quaking grew, Elam dropped the stone and laid a hand on her back. “You asked me to forgive you, Naamah. Who am I to refuse?”
She looked up at him. Wet strands of hair stuck to her dirty face. As her eyes widened once again, she could barely whisper, “Do you mean, you …”
He lowered his hand to her. “I forgive you. That’s really the only life I have to offer … yours.”
Reaching out her trembling fingers, she took his hand and rose to her feet. When he released her, she just stared at her palm, as if he had left something there. Her mouth opened to speak again, but no words came out.
Elam kicked the stone far away. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to do anything at all.” He nodded at Dikaios. “If you will lead the way, good horse, I will follow. What Naamah does is up to her.”
Without a word, Dikaios turned and loped in the direction they had been traveling before.
Elam marched behind him, glancing back at Naamah every few seconds. With her hand still in front of her face, she continued staring, and as the distance grew between them, her petite form seemed to shrink even further.
Turning to the front, Elam strode up a gently sloping rise, and when he reached the top, he halted. Dikaios stopped and turned around. Saying nothing, he lowered his head and sniffed the grass.
Elam raised a fist and stared at his hardened knuckles. Naamah really was a deceiver, the worst kind of harlot, but she chose not to follow. Why would that be? If her new repentance was another deception, wouldn’t she just tag along again and continue her pretense, waiting for another chance to take his life’s blood?
Not wanting to turn to look, Elam pictured Naamah behind him, standing pitifully in the distance, watching her hand, waiting. But waiting for what? Elam opened his own hand and stared at his palm. Blistered and bloodied from hanging on to the bridge, dirty and grass-smeared from lying in the fields, his hand was no more majestic than any other. It was human—strong, real, the ultimate symbol of reaching out from one wanderer to another. Finally, it all made sense.
Slowly turning, Elam stretched out his arm and extended his open hand toward Naamah. She leaped forward and sprinted toward him, her bare legs and feet kicking up the hem of his cloak. When she reached the hill, she dashed up the slope and dropped to her knees. She grabbed his hand and kissed his palm, crying, “You won’t regret this, Elam. I promise, you won’t regret your mercy.”
He raised her to her feet and looked into her teary eyes, speaking softly. “To be wanted and not lusted for. To be loved and not pitied. To be asked and not commanded.” After passing a hand over her bedraggled hair, he slipped it into hers, touching their palms together. “Is that right?”
As her cheeks flushed, a shy smile emerged. In contrast to her red face, her white teeth dazzled, but now her fangs were gone. “And to be believed, even after all my lies.”
Chapter 14
CHASING THE LIGHT
Candle held a torch high over his head, searching the skies. Still no sign of Grackle or Mother. It was getting so late. Pegasus had already risen, and the spider frogs had begun their nightly chants. Soon, the village guard would chase him away from the rabbit fields and back inside with a warning about owls and shadow people, but he had to stay out and watch. He couldn’t bear to look at that empty shelf where his father’s companion once sat in a bed of velvet.
Pulling up the hood on his ankle-length cloak, he strained his eyes, trying to find any sign of Grackle’s purple glint, but the moon-washed canopy returned just a few white glimmers. With Pegasus ruling the nightscape, only the three brightest stars twinkled in the cold breezeShachar and the twin stars, Makaidos and Thigocia.
Something tugged at his sleeve. He jumped away and swung the torch, barely missing Listener’s face. The little girl flinched but stayed put.
“Listener!” he scolded. “You scared me! I could’ve”
His companion whispered into his mind.