Did that make accepting the Raen’s offer a childish or brave decision?
It, too, had been the best decision at the time. And not just for her. She hadn’t been entirely sure what he would do to the Travellers, and to Baluka, if she refused. Now, having seen into his memories, she knew she had been right to worry. Perhaps he would have taken her with him anyway. But if he’d given her reason to hate him, he could not have trusted her to resurrect him.
Turns out he couldn’t trust me anyway, she mused. A thousand cycles old and he still could not see that, despite what I’d done in the past–because of what I’d done in the past–I would not kill someone. Someone who wasn’t threatening me or someone I loved, that is, she added, thinking of Gabeme.
And, thinking of Gabeme, she wondered if she would have completed the resurrection if she hadn’t killed someone less than a day before. If her horror at killing hadn’t been fresh. That thought disturbed her, and she was glad when a movement among the wagons caught her attention.
She held her breath.
An explosive giggle came from the young man standing beside her. He was staring at one of the wagons–at the wheels. No, she corrected, between the wheels. Small brown faces peered out. They were grinning, but as the Boy took a step towards them they withdrew into the shadows.
He made a noise of protest, dropped into a crouch and began to crawl forward. Rielle bent and grabbed his arm.
“No, Boy,” she told him. “Stay with me. Stand up.” His face fell, and he straightened.
Three men and a woman stepped around the wagon. Their manner and expressions were friendly, but she saw wariness in their minds. They would not like it if they knew she was reading their minds, but she had decided, for her safety and the Boy’s, that she could never risk holding back from reading a mind again.
The woman gasped.
“Rielle!” She held out her hands as if she was about to come forward and embrace Rielle, but then quickly dropped them to her sides again. “Welcome,” she said, her tone more formal. Her gaze shifted to the Boy and she frowned and shuddered as she read his broken mind.
“Ankari,” Rielle replied. “Thank you. Is Lejikh here? I wish to ask him–all of you–for advice.”
Ankari’s expression became serious. “He is trading, but he will be back soon. I can speak in his place.” She glanced at the others in turn. One shook his head, the rest shrugged. “Come in and wait with us.” She beckoned and the Travellers retreated between the wagons.
Rielle guided the Boy after them, never letting go of his arm because he had caught sight of the children again and wanted to go to them. As they stepped into the circle he was smiling broadly. Most of the other Travellers had gathered, and the rest were emerging from or peering out of wagons. Ankari led Rielle and the Boy under a canopy strung between the wagons, to rugs placed in a ring around the cold embers of a fire. As Ankari invited Rielle to sit, the rest of the Travellers settled down to listen.
Rielle wanted, badly, to ask after Baluka. Had he visited them since he’d left? Had he survived the battle with Valhan? Had he forgiven her? But she could not bring herself to broach the subject. Yet.
“Who is this?” Ankari asked as they sat down.
“I don’t know,” Rielle admitted. “He doesn’t remember his name.”
“I see that. You call him ‘Boy’.” She shook her head. “He needs a name.”
At the word “boy”, he stopped staring at the children, who were now lying under the wagons, then began to stare in fascination at the fans the Travellers were using to cool themselves. It was very hot. Rielle hadn’t noticed. Her mind was unconsciously pattern shifting her body to adapt to the temperature.
“I was hoping if I didn’t give him another, he’d remember what it had been before,” she explained.
“Before what?”
Meeting Ankari’s eyes, Rielle lowered her voice, not wanting to give the Traveller children nightmares. “Before his mind was emptied of memories.”
The woman looked at the Boy. “Maybe it is better you don’t remember,” she said. Then she smiled, because he had beamed at her. He hadn’t understood a word, but he had decided he liked her. “He is like a child, and yet not,” she said, looking at Rielle. “Is he his child?”
“No.”
“Yet he looks a little like him. People will wonder. They may assume he is yours as well, if they know where you were but not the timing of events.”
Rielle shook her head. “He is not mine, but I feel he is my responsibility now. Do you… do you think he could regain his memories? Those he has now began returning to him soon after I first rescued him, as if his mind was healing. But once he woke fully they stopped.”