Page 78 of Heir

“You like to fight?” she asked Aiz, lifting her chin. “I’ll duel you when we stop tonight. Scims. Loser pays a mark.”

Quil rode behind them. Aiz had spotted him currying Tregan that morning, speaking sweetly to the mare and sneaking her an apple.

“Leave her be, Kari,” Quil said. “EvenIdon’t like to duel you.”

“Because you know you’ll lose.”

“Because I feel bad embarrassing you.”

Karinna barked a laugh. “I’ll beat you one day, biyah.”Brother.“Race you to lessons.”

Everyone in the Tribe was polite. But Aiz had spent a life welcoming orphans to Dafra cloister. The ones accepted as family were those who found a way to be useful. When the caravan stopped late in the afternoon, Aiz volunteered for dish duty with Ruhyan, and guard duty with Quil.

Her first watch was that night, and she found Quil at the edge of theencampment, speaking to Elias. Aiz hesitated a few yards away, wary of Laia’s husband. His mien was assessing as always, but he nodded a greeting and offered her a small scim and scabbard—just her size.

“Quil’s my best student by a mile,” Elias said. “He can show you the basics, if you like.”

Aiz watched Quil out of the corner of her eye as they walked. He was young—almost nineteen, Ruh said. Though he was raised with Tribe Saif, he didn’t fit, exactly. It wasn’t just his appearance, for Laia’s family didn’t look like the rest of the Tribe either. No, it was the way the Tribe treated Quil. Respectfully but carefully, too.

He’d been kind to her. Too kind. Aiz wondered what he wanted. And what she could get in return.

“When we’re not riding, you’re reading,” Aiz said as they walked.I’ve been watching you. I’m interested.“Or writing. Will you be a Kehanni too?”

Quil laughed, but it was rueful, not mocking. “That path isn’t for me. Tribe Saif is fostering me for my aunt, and there are many things she wishes for me to learn,” he said. “Most of it is interesting. History. Statecraft. Philosophy. Astronomy.”

So, he was wealthy. Though he didn’t remind Aiz of any highborn Hawk she knew. “I will call you Idaka,” she said. “In Ankanese, it means—”

“Philosopher.” Quil smiled. “Thinker. That’s appropriate.”

“Your parents are…”

“Gone.” In the moonlight, his face was expressionless, as if he was talking about the weather. “Like yours.”

“I never knew my father,” Aiz ventured. “Mother died of an injury when I was four. She liked to bake, though we never had much to bake with. Her hair was long and pale. And she smelled like snow.”

Aiz had never told anyone that. Not even Cero. But it took trust to build trust and she waited, hoping Quil would share a similar memory.

“Does Ankana have the same stars?” His voice was cooler than before. “I never looked, when I visited.”

Aiz found her curiosity piqued by his strange response. “Different, Idaka. But that one”—she pointed directly above—“is the same. Ilar. The evening star. I was named for it.” Aiz looked up and felt unmoored, as if she would drift into the darkness and disappear. She put a finger to her aaj, taking comfort from the fact that she could use it if she wished to.

“Who gave you the ring?” Quil asked. “You play with it when you’re restless. Which is…often.”

So, he’d been watching her too. Her skin buzzed from his closeness, yes, but also from a sense of victory.

“A friend gave it to me,” she said.Let him wonder.“And if by restless you mean impatient, then yes, I suppose I do,” she said. “I need Laia’s help to aid my people, but it will take time. Which my people don’t have.”

They hiked away from the rocky flats and up a ridge, until they reached a creosote-strewn cliff that was fifty feet higher than the land surrounding. The Saif camp was a dusting of sparkling lamps in the distance, swallowed by the great dark of the desert.

Quil offered Aiz a hand as they navigated the rocky terrain to sit at the edge of the ridge. He gripped her lightly, but some strange spark danced between them. It was a chilly autumn night and their bodies were close enough that Quil’s heat sank into Aiz. He folded his big hands together and looked out at the land.

“Time is different here,” Quil said. “Slow as a glacier and then suddenly galloping forward like Ruh racing his brother. Tribe Saif—they’re good people. And I’ve known Laia since birth. She delivered me. Whatever she promised, she’ll do.”

Quil spoke with a calmness that both soothed Aiz and galled her. He could afford to be tranquil. It wasn’t his people starving and dying. It wasn’t those he loved suffering under Tiral.

“You weren’t born to Tribe Saif,” she observed. “Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?”

“I have few close blood relations.” He smiled wryly. “I take the family I can get.”

---