“Zora, Havel,” Pashla said, nodding to each in turn. Then, to Kyra’s surprise, Pashla ran one finger down the front of her neck in the Makvani bow of respect that Kyra had only ever seen Pashla give to Leyus. Zora asked Pashla a question in the Makvani tongue, which Pashla answered respectfully. Zora took another look at Kyra, then turned abruptly and left. Havel’s gaze lingered on Kyra for a moment longer before he followed Zora.
Kyra stared after them, wondering what had happened. Pashla stood next to her, calmly watching the two Demon Riders disappear, and Kyra found she didn’t know what to say. Pashla had nursed her back to health after James almost killed her, and she’d been deeply hurt when Kyra turned her back on the clan to return to Forge. Over the past weeks, Kyra had often wished to see Pashla again, to somehow make amends, but she didn’t know where to begin.
“Be careful with Zora and Havel. They are new to this side of the Aerins, and they do not look as kindly on humans as Leyus does.” She spoke with the same patient inflection she’d used when teaching Kyra the ways of the forest.
Kyra fought a perverse urge to laugh. If Leyus was a shining example of human–Makvani relations, then Forge was in deep trouble indeed. But Pashla’s other words concerned her more. “What do you mean, they are new to this side of the mountains?”
“Have you not noticed? A second clan has crossed the mountains. Zora and Havel are their leaders.”
Pashla was looking at her as if she had missed something patently obvious, and Kyra couldn’t help but wonder if she had. Did Havel and Zora look any different from the others? Of course, a new clan would explain the recent increase in attacks. “They are in contact with your clan?”
“They used to be clan mates with Leyus. Leyus and Havel are like brothers.”
Kyra took a moment to ponder Pashla’s words. Things had been bad enough with one clan. With two…She had to try to make peace.
“Pashla, I’m here on behalf of the Palace,” she said.
The effect on Pashla was immediate. Her expression closed off, and her voice when she spoke again was cool. “What errand do they send you on?”
Pashla’s reaction stung, but there were more important things at stake. “I need to speak with Leyus. The clan is in danger. The city means to mount an attack, but our Defense Minister wishes to negotiate peace.”
“Leyus will not speak with you. He has no desire to negotiate with humans.”
“Even if they outnumber his people by a hundred-fold? It would cost the city greatly to destroy you, but they could do it.”
“That’s enough,” said Pashla, a hint of anger in her voice. “I didn’t think you’d be so foolish as to deliver threats while in our midst.”
Kyra fell silent. She had gone about this all wrong. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to deliver threats. And I wish I wasn’t here on Palace business. I wish we didn’t have to be enemies.” Truth was, Kyra had missed Pashla—the long walks they’d taken in the forest, the clanswoman’s patience and gentle touch. Was it too much to hope for forgiveness? “You taught me so much, and I owe you more than I could ever repay.” Immediately, she felt embarrassed and very small, but it was too late to unsay her words.
The clanswoman studied her again, her gaze gliding over Kyra with the serenity of falling snow. “Your wounds have healed well.”
Kyra put a hand to her stomach. “I just have a light scar. I don’t feel it at all.”
Pashla motioned for Kyra to lift the edge of her tunic so she could see. The clanswoman ran a finger over the scar. It was an odd sensation, Pashla’s touch on her toughened scar tissue.
“Time forms bonds,” Pashla finally said. “Those we grow up with, those we live with, we become connected to them, even if they’re different from us.”
Pashla’s words were an olive branch, the clanswoman’s way of saying that she somewhat understood Kyra’s choice to return to Forge, if not completely. “Thank you,” Kyra said. When Pashla didn’t respond right away, Kyra found her courage and kept going. “Does it have to be one or the other? Why must I choose a side? I’ve been coming back into the forest by myself. I know it’s foolish, but I can’t stay away.”
“I know you’ve been coming,” said Pashla.