“What would the human custom be?” Ra’kur asked, his brow furrowing. “We would not wish to offend the Betari clanmother—nor they you, I am sure—by ignoring the customs of your homeworld.”
“Well, they should stay to supper, of course! And to pass the evening in good company. The night as well if it gets too late and we all get to talking.” Jenna smiled around sweetly at them all. “Summer and I played together when we were little, believe it or not. It’s been a long time since we saw each other. We got us lots to catch up on.”
“A feast.” Rotin gave a firm nod. “To celebrate the renewal of our treaty.”
Jenna spread her hands. “What do you say? After all, there’s no way our clans should be enemies when your new clanmother and I are friends.”
Mirak looked ready to refuse but Ar’ar spoke first. “We would be honored to feast with the Erah,” he growled, inclining his head. “As I told Ke’lar when we last met, I have long wished our enmity to be at an end.”
“We will remain for this human custom of being”—and here Mirak growled the English word—“‘neighborly.’”
“Tell you what,” Jenna began and glanced at the young g’hir woman who hovered nearby. “H’lara, why don’t you go get the kitchen going on supper for everybody? Ra’kur, would you see to our honored guests while I take Summer upstairs to get cleaned up?” She gave her friend’s road-worn clothes a meaningful look. “I’m sure I can find something pretty of mine that you can wear.”
The g’hir exchanged puzzled looks and Jenna gave an airy wave.
“It’s customary on Earth for friends to swap clothes and share outfits,” she assured the men, steering Summer toward the stairs.
“I will come with you,” Ar’ar said with a glance at Summer. “I would not have her lost to me again.”
Jenna gave a light laugh. “I hope you aren’t suggesting I would lose her on the way to getting dressed for the party?”
He hesitated, clearly not wanting to offend the next Erah clanmother.
“Tell you what,” Jenna offered. “Let me help Summer get washed up and changed and we’ll meet y’all back down here lickity-split, ’kay?”
“I assure you,” Ra’kur offered solemnly, “your mate will not leave the clanhall while in my Jenna’s company.”
“I trust your intentions but Summer is my responsibility. These men,” Ar’ar said, waving four Betari warriors forward, “will escort her and act as her guards.” He addressed his clanbrothers. “You will accompany her everywhere. You are not to leave her alone for a moment.”
“Not even in the bathtub?” Jenna asked, one hand on her hip.
Ar’ar’s cheeks flushed. “You will, of course, observe decorum.”
“And wait outside in the hallway while we get dressed,” Jenna said pointedly. She urged Summer toward the staircase. “My quarters are three floors up and don’t you worry,” she said to Ar’ar over her shoulder as they started up the stairs, “unless Miss Summer here sprouts wings before we get to my rooms, she ain’t going anywhere.”
Jenna’s quarters were gorgeous—richly furnished with a huge carved bed and complete with a balcony that ran the length of the suite, offering a sweeping view of the Erah territory. Birdsong could be heard from the forest below; in the distance the Te River curved beneath the shadow of the majestic snow-capped Zun Mountains.
Somewhere in those mountains lay the cave that had sheltered her and Ke’lar during the storm as it millennia ago had sheltered ancient g’hir . . .
He left me! He left Emma too, for all that nonsense about thinking of her as his daughter. He followed his clanfather’s orders like—like a—
Summer swallowed hard. A g’hir.
Damn it, what did I expect anyway? That he’d really put me over his clan? That he could ever love me like a human man could?
She and Jenna hadn’t talked on the way here. Something about having four towering alien warriors marching behind them inhibited conversation.
Jenna wasn’t kidding about leaving them outside either. She shut the big heavy door firmly right in those warriors’ faces and as soon as it was closed Jenna grabbed her in a big hug.
“Thank the All Mother you’re all right!”
“The ‘All Mother’?” Summer echoed, untangling herself from Jenna’s embrace to stare at her.
Jenna laughed. “Sorry! Just used to saying it these days, I guess.”
“Right,” Summer murmured. “How long have you been here?”
“Since January. And now it’s, uh—”
A troubled look crossed her friend’s face.
Jenna didn’t know the date back home.
“It’s December,” Summer said quietly. “December seventeenth.”
Jenna glanced toward the balcony, out at the warm, spring afternoon on Hir. “Guess I must’ve lost track of time . . .”
“And gone all belle of the county,” Summer pointed out. “What was all that down home crap? I’m surprised you didn’t try to lead the reel.”