The suns were nearly set when Ke’lar slid off the saddle again, leaving a rush of cool evening air against Summer’s back where a moment ago the warmth of his body had been.
They rode double for long stretches of time but there were few words exchanged between them. There was no comfort she could offer him now that he knew the truth of what drew her back to Earth. Small talk was impossible and he was a warrior well accustomed to solitude.
But they weren’t making great time either, despite their focus on the journey.
Even when Ke’lar pushed the animal to a run he did not force her to it for long, but Summer knew he wasn’t purposefully delaying their journey; even she noticed that Beya was tiring quicker than she had the last time they had ridden her. They had been going since the suns were at their zenith and during the course of the day Beya’s galloping had dwindled to trotting and frequently simply walking.
“Is she all right?” Summer asked. The multari was still breathing hard even though she hadn’t run for long at all this time. “She sounds like she’s wheezing a little.”
“The rain yesterday, the chill last night, and this journey have worn on her,” he growled. “When we reach the clanhall’s stables I can rub her down, cover her with a heated blanket, and let her rest. In a few days she will be strong again.”
“Should I get down? That’ll make it easier on her and we’re only at a walk anyway.”
He glanced back at Summer; he’d been avoiding looking at her since this morning.
“I think that would be a kindness to her,” he rumbled.
Of course it meant that Ke’lar was going to have to help her get off the multari, since the thing was roughly the size of a damn Clydesdale. Summer’s hands rested on his shoulders as his hands went to her waist to help her off. For just an instant it seemed as if he held her against him, then ducking his head, he let her go.
“It’ll be dark soon,” Summer commented, wincing a bit as they started walking. Spending that long in the saddle, even with the frequent breaks, left her sore and aching.
“We have reached the other side of the river,” he said. “Walking through the night means we will be at the clanhall by morning.”
Summer glanced at Beya. She was breathing easier, that was for certain, but still—
“I’m not sure an all-night walk is a great idea, Ke’lar.”
He kept going, his gaze on the path ahead. “It is your wish that we reach the clanhall quickly.”
“I know, but we’ve been on the go for almost nine hours. I’m not sure Beya is up to it. I know I’m sure as hell not going to able to manage a ten-hour walk. She’s exhausted and I’m getting that way fast.”
“You are too tired to continue?” He stopped, frowning around at her. “You would have us make camp and spend the night here?”
“I’m a human woman, not g’hir warrior, Ke’lar. You’re the one that’s indestructible, not me.”
He shifted his weight, his eyes aglow in the twilight.
“If we let her rest for a few hours,” he rumbled finally with a measuring look at the multari, “she may be able to carry us the rest of the way. That would make up for the time that we lose if we make camp tonight.”
“Sounds good to me.” Summer rubbed her hand over her face. “I don’t suppose you can smell any water nearby?”
“There is a creek ahead. I intended to let Beya drink before we continued but if she were to rest for a few hours as well she would be the better for it.”
“Her and me both,” Summer said. “How far to the water?”
“Just beyond that tela tree.”
“Which one is that?”
He pointed to a tree in the distance. “The one with the red flowers.”
“I can’t see colors in this low light,” she reminded.
That startled him. “You cannot?”
“I don’t have g’hir eyes either, Ke’lar. I have human ones—you know, the kind that need a certain light level for the cones to work? And I’m going to be stumbling around in the dark pretty soon here so I’d be grateful if you could hand me the luma.”
“Is this night-blindness typical of humans?” he asked curiously. “What can you see now?”
“I can see your expression but your face is in shades of gray and black. Except I can see that your eyes are blue because they glow. ”
“Will the Sisters’ light not let you see?”
“I’ll see better in bright moonlight but it’ll be a cool light. No color.”
“How did your ancestors hunt at night?”
“We didn’t. Before electric lights people pretty much stayed indoors if they could at night. Though humans are a greater danger to each other than any wild animal probably ever was.”
He slowed his pace to match hers. “How could your species survive if they could not hunt at night?”
“We had a meeting and decided to go in the whole hunt-during-the-day direction.”