Free Voice of Crow by Jeri Smith-Ready Page B

asked.
    “Don’t know.” She scuffed her moccasins against the dirt as she walked. “I’ve been trapping mostly.” She didn’t want to admit she hadn’t touched a bow in nearly a month. It would prompt questions she couldn’t answer.
    “Elora!”
    They turned to see the Otter’s young apprentice, Pirrik, trotting toward them from the center of the village. He slowed as he neared them.
    “Don’t worry, not an emergency,” he panted. “One of the Asermon Otters wants to go over your inventory to see what to bring back on their next trip. Figured you’d be a better judge of that than I would.”
    Elora cast a wary glance between her apprentice and Alanka. “I’ll be back shortly.”
    Pirrik stayed behind and lifted the cart pole Elora had dropped. “I’ll help you with the wood.”
    Alanka nodded once and said nothing.
    They dragged the cart in silence until they were in sight of the fire ring—or what would be a fire ring once the trees were felled and the ditch dug. Alanka could see Vara the Asermon Snake giving directions to the men chopping trees. Her first-phase Snake magic allowed her to control the spread of fire, making her an expert in such defensive endeavors. Once the fire ring was built, Kalindos could light it to stop intruders. Theoretically, at least.
    “We should have done this years ago.” Alanka indicated the ring. “Lorek could have built it.” The Kalindon Snake had been taken by the Descendants like so many others. “With a fire ring the invasion might not have happened at all.”
    “People were too afraid of another blaze wiping us out.” He glanced at her. “Sorry.”
    She swallowed hard at the memory of the forest fire that had taken her mother’s life over a decade ago. “This reminds me of then, how empty the village was. Did we play the fire game? I don’t remember.”
    “The fire game?”
    “Like these children, reliving the whole thing, over and over.”
    “Oh. I think Thera did. She was only five.”
    “I can’t believe your sister’s sixteen and already a second-phase Hawk.”
    “It’s a big responsibility.” He stopped, bringing the creaky cart wheels to a silent halt. “She’s not angry with you. I know she lashed out when you first found her tied up in the paddock, but she was half-crazed then. None of us are mad at you.”
    Alanka examined the worn spot on her left glove. “Thanks for letting me know.”
    “I’m sorry for the way I behaved after I found out.”
    She pulled a splinter out of the glove’s thick leather and waited for Pirrik to continue.
    “You’re not your father,” he said, “and what he did to mine had nothing to do with you.”
    “That’s not exactly true, is it?” She met the Otter’s gaze. “He made a deal with the Descendants to protect Kalindos. To protect me, mostly. Your father got in the way.”
    “Doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”
    “I know that,” she said.
    He looked away and scratched the back of his neck, fingers rustling the strands of dark red hair that fell below his nape.
    Was it only the last full moon when she had made love with this man in Deer Meadow, and they had talked about getting married? No, the last full moon the sky had been cloudy. Must have been the month before. The past was turning into one long haze of pain. She wanted to leave it behind.
    “Anyway,” he said, “I wanted to tell you I was sorry. I hope we can be friends again.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Maybe someday we could even try—”
    “No.” To his startled look she replied, “I mean, yes, we can try to be friends. But nothing more.”
    “Alanka—”
    “You turned away when I needed you most, after my father died.” She gestured to the ditch ahead, where Morran and Endrus dug, shirtless and sweaty. “I thought you were different from all those Cats, not careless. I thought you were kind.”
    She’d rehearsed this speech weeks ago, before the battle, back when losing her mate made her feel as if