Ar’ar’s glance went to Ke’lar’s camp, to the shelter where she hid, and Summer had to control the urge to duck away lest even that slight movement drew his attention.
Ke’lar patted the neck of the multari Ar’ar rode. “A fine mount indeed. Did you purchase him? Or was he bred from stock in your enclosure?”
“May we hunt the one we seek in your land?” Ar’ar asked bluntly.
He doesn’t know I’m here! Summer’s mouth parted. He can’t smell me! If he could he’d be on me like a duck on a June bug!
“I cannot give permission for that.” Ke’lar sounded a little offended and dropped his hand. “Only our clanfather can allow you onto our lands in such a great number.”
“I could hardly invade your territory with only six warriors,” Ar’ar said sharply. “And we do not seek to break the treaty! It is not by my wish that our clans are enemies. I only wish to have returned to me that which is . . . our own responsibility.”
“I am sure my father will send a hundred warriors here”—Ke’lar spread his hands—“if a clanbrother of the Betari, a fugitive from justice, has dared breach our borders. I came here to offer the All Mother my reverence but I will return to our clanhall and relay your message to him, if you wish to wait.”
For a moment Ar’ar looked as if he would argue further, but then one of his clan brothers caught his eye.
“Thank you, no,” Ar’ar said but his brittle tone belied his polite words. “If we decide to ask for the Erah’s assistance we will apply for aid from your clanfather ourselves.”
Ke’lar took a step back. “Then may the All Mother bless your hunt and your clanbrother be brought swiftly to justice—as he deserves.”
Ar’ar didn’t reply, turning his mount and heading back into the forest and Betari territory, his clanbrothers following.
Summer put her face in her palm and closed her eyes, thanking God and the Buddha and Lakshmi and the g’hir’s All Mother and any other deities that happened to be plugged into this far-flung side of the galaxy.
The shelter’s flap opened and the blue-eyed warrior—Ke’lar—entered.
Summer scrambled to her knees. “Thank you so—”
His hand shot out, covering her mouth to silence her. Leaning very close he spoke in her ear, his whisper so low she could scarcely hear it.
“The Betari warriors have not gone far,” he murmured. “Even now they watch, but they do not dare break our treaty or offend a son of the Erah clanfather on mere suspicion. If they discover you on my family’s land, within my own shelter, they will take you. They will kill me and bring a clan war that will tear this part of our world apart.”
It was a good thing he had his hand over her mouth or Summer would have told him she didn’t give a damn about what these beasts did to each other—as long as she got back to Earth.
“Remain here,” he continued, still murmuring. “Be silent. I do not know how long they will watch. I will be nearby at all times and when they have gone, I will return. Do you understand?”
She gave a nod.
He held her gaze and slowly removed his hand. He regarded her for a moment then pulled a soft pouch down from the hook on the support above. Detaching a tube, he held it to her lips.
“Water,” he murmured.
Eagerly she drew on the straw, sighing silently in relief as the cold water hit the back of her parched throat.
He let her drink then opened another pouch and offered the contents to her.
It looked a bit like trail mix and she was ravenous but when she reached for it he looked utterly dismayed.
Summer paused, unsure, her hand hovering over the pouch, embarrassed to see her fingers were still covered in muck, the dirt caked under her nails.
The warrior hesitated, then with slow, deliberate movements scooped some of the food out to feed her himself. He waited while she chewed, offering the water and food again by turns.
Finally she gave a nod. She could have eaten all of it and finished off the water too but she wasn’t sure how long he should stay in here with her if the Betari were still watching.
He directed her toward the bed, silently inviting her to lie down. He moved when she did and Summer realized he was probably doing it to help cover the sounds she made as she shifted about.
When she was lying down he motioned her to stillness. He adjusted the openings of the shelters air flaps. Fresh, cool air smelling sweetly of the nearby river washed away the stuffiness but he kept them low enough so that no one should be able to see inside.
He bent over her, his cheek nearly against hers, his long silky black hair spreading against the white furs beside her head.