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Sunlight filtered through slatted wooden blinds, the only light in an otherwise dark room. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams. Mirelle squinted as she woke, unsure where she was. Her body ached everywhere. A steady pulse of pain throbbed in her ribs, and wrist. The air was thick with the heady scent of spicy incense, smothering the faint smell of blood. She felt around, realizing she was in bed. Not her bed, though. The sheets were warm, but coarse in an unfamiliar way. She shifted, and the pain in her ribs spread to her head, like a hammer tapping at her brain. Mirelle tried to speak but found her throat so scratchy and her lips so dry that the only noise she could make was an incomprehensible murmur.

“Mmerrgbblefbburf.”

Mirelle lifted her right arm and found her wrist bound in a heavy splint. She lifted her other arm. That hand was fine, but the movement was a hot knife in her ribs. As she wiped beads of sweat from her forehead, the memory that struck her made her cringe. That was exactly what happened. At least she wasn’t dead. And she seemed to be in some kind of building, so it stood to reason that they’d held the city. Unless she’d been carried off to some hermit’s hut, somewhere in the marsh.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a wooden pitcher and mug on a table alongside her bed. With great, painful effort, Mirelle managed to pour herself some water. She gulped it down. It eased her thirst a little, but it made her long-empty belly roil. First the water threatened to come right back up, then it stirred a great, rumbling hunger.

She flopped back down against the pillow. It felt damp and clammy. Mirelle grit her teeth, hoping she’d not caught an infection and a fever. She needed a bath, she was sure. She eased the blankets down, found herself wrapped in more bandages than clothes. Given that her last memories were of bleeding out in the arms of a gryphon, Mirelle supposed modesty was hardly a concern. A few off-colored stains marked the bandages along her side, but they didn’t look too bad. Then again, she doubted those were first bandages she’d worn lately.

After tugging the blankets back up, Mirelle gazed around the room. The wooden walls were mostly bare, with only the single window letting in light. A larger table held jars of salve, and rolls of clean bandages. Bundles of herbs sat nearby. There were a few small paintings adorning the wall, and a single decorative vase on a small shelf. Several empty chairs rested near the bed. Her maul leaned against the wall, just beneath the window. The only door was shut, but hints of light shone beneath it. A shadow passed across it.

Intent on calling out to whoever was there, Mirelle took a deep breath. The sharp pain it brought made her cry out. The door flew open, and Beka rushed into the room with Tavaat right on her heels. Mirelle held up her injured arm to ward off any potential incoming hugs. As happy as she was to see her friends, she didn’t want that happiness to translate into addition pain.

“Mirelle, are you alright?” Beka skidded to a stop at the edge of the bed.

Tavaat stopped alongside her. “What do you need, what can we do, how do you feel?”

Mirelle gestured with her sling-wrapped arm towards the water. Her pained yell had left her throat scratchy again. She didn’t want to point with the other arm, and lacked the strength to fetch the pitcher for herself again.

“I think she’s asking us to leave, Beka.”

“Mirelle, are you waving us off?” Beka leaned forward.

“We’re glad to see you awake.” Tavaat took Beka’s arm, backing her away. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“Water!” Mirelle coughed the word, waved her splint at the pitcher. She glanced at her wrist. Her hand was practically a club now.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Tavaat filled the mug with water, then held it out to her. “Do you want me to help you drink it, or do you want it?”

Mirelle lifted her left hand a little. Tavaat put the cup in her grasp, and she took a few sips. Once her throat felt a little better, she let Tavaat take the cup back and set it aside. “Thank you. It’s good to see you both.”

Tavaat put his hand on her shoulder, smiling. “You too, Mirelle. You gave everyone quite a scare.”

Beka reached out to squeeze her left hand. “We’ve been at your side the whole time.” She glanced at Tavaat. “Well, almost.”

“Yeah, today was the first time we weren’t in here, and even then, we were out there.” Tavaat jerked his thumb towards the door.

Mirelle blinked. “Today?” She sighed, shifting against the pillow. “Alright, how many days?”

“Since the battle, or…” Beka squeezed her hand. “You…don’t remember the last few?”

“If I remembered I wouldn’t be asking.” Mirelle managed a soft chuckle. “Is it good or bad I don’t remember?”

“Probably good.” Tavaat pulled up one of the chairs, and turned it sideways so his tail could hang off the back. “You were pretty out of it.”

Beka fetched her own chair, and settled next to Tavaat. “It’s been…four full days since the battle.”

“Gods.” Mirelle groaned, rubbing her forehead with her left hand. “We…won, right?”

“We did, yes. Because of you-”

“How many?”

Tavaat leaned forward. “What’s that?”

Mirelle grit her teeth. “How many died?”

Beka and Tavaat exchanged worried looks. Beka rubbed her arm. “I don’t know, Mirelle. A lot. We’ll send in someone who will know when you’re ready to handle official things.”

“I’m ready now.” Mirelle tried to sit up, sucked in a sharp breath, and eased back down.

“No, you’re really not.” Tavaat patted her shoulder, then put the cup to her lips. “Drink some more water. The healers say you’re going to be really dehydrated.”

“The battle…” Mirelle sipped a few mouthfuls of water. “It wasn’t over when…” Memories of horrible things flashed through her mind. The scent of blood, screams of pain, people dying all around her. She shivered, a chill rolling through her. She tried to piece together the end of things. It was Gavak who… “Gavak! Is he…did I…?”

“He’s dead, Mirelle.” Tavaat tipped the cup to her lips again, then set it down. “They dragged him out of there, but he was already gone. Trying to get him to their healers only let more of their warriors see him that way. It sapped what was left of their morale, and people took the gate back. Was all over after that.”

“Thank the gods.” Mirelle closed her eyes, only to recall something else from the end of the battle. She jerked upright, immediately regretting it. “Aaah!” She tried to grab her side with her splinted hand.

Tavaat and Beka both put their hands on her shoulder, easing her back down. “Easy, easy. You’re gonna open your stitches.”

“Kurekka!” She glanced back and forth at their faces, trying to gauge their reactions. “He was…he took a spear, and-”

“He’s fine, he’s fine.” Beka smiled, squeezing her shoulder.

“Well, he’s not fine.” Tavaat shook his head at Beka.

Beka huffed. “He’s alive, and he’s not crippled.”

Mirelle tilted her head against the pillow. “How badly hurt is he?”

“About like you.” Tavaat eased back into his chair, folding his green scaled arms. “Took a spear right in the ribs. Lost a lot of blood, but some of the field surgeons were able to stem the worst of it.”

“He’s a lucky bird.” Beka patted Mirelle’s leg through the blanket. “They didn’t know his anatomy at all, but…they later said the spear got wedged in the last of his ribs. Another foot or so in the wrong direction and it’d have gone right into one of the poor gryphon’s kidneys. Then he’d almost have surely bled out right there in the plaza and…” Beka trailed off when Mirelle’s face scrunched up. “Sorry. The important thing is that didn’t happen, and neither you nor he bled to death.”

“He’s all stitched up right now.” Tavaat unfolded his arms to rub a hand against his side. “He’s really cranky about it cause they had to cut down a lot of the fur and feathers to get the stitches in.”

“Poor gryphon’s got a bald spot on his side! A few other places, too.”

Mirelle smirked a little. “Bet Chir’raal won’t let him hear the end of it, either.”

Beka giggled, shaking her head. “We checked on them this morning. Chir’raal has taken to calling his lover, ‘Patches.’ Of course, Chir’raal took some arrows and things, so he’s got stitches too.” She smiled, clasping her hands. “They’ll want to see you when you’re ready to be up and about.”

Mirelle nodded, smiling. “I want to see them, too. If I’m truthful, I wasn’t sure they’d really be on our side. I’m glad I took that chance. They risked as much as the rest of us.”

“Oh yes.” Tavaat poured some more water, and held it to Mirelle’s lips till she drank it. “Whole town knows it, too. They’re as much war heroes now as you are.”

“I’m not a-” Mirelle cut herself off. Not because she thought herself a hero, but because she could see it in her friends’ eyes that they were going to argue that fact. She didn’t have the energy for that. “You two are heroes too, you know.”

“Damn right we are.” Tavaat snapped his teeth, then nudged Beka. “We want medals, too.”

“Big, shiny ones.” Beka giggled and nudged him back.

Mirelle smiled. “I can probably arrange that. How are you two holding up? I mean…you know.”

Tavaat shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Think I’ve vomited more times in the last four days than the rest of my life. Never…never killed anybody before. Haven’t slept much. The ones I shot were bad enough but…the last one, I was…outta bolts, and he was comin’ at me…”

Beka reached out and squeezed Tavaat’s scaly hand, her voice soft. “I stuck my sword through his back.” She swallowed, staring down at their twined fingers. “He didn’t even know I was there. Wasn’t…noble, or…heroic. I just…didn’t want him to hurt Tavaat.”

Tavaat growled to himself, sighing. “He…fell on his knees, coughing blood, grabbin’ at the talisman on his chest. I put my own blade in his throat to finish him off, and…when he went down, I saw the talisman. It was…not that well carved, looked like…like a kid made it.” His voice shook, and he blinked away a few sudden tears. “It meant father. It was…the last thing he was thinking of, when he died. His child. I…I know they came here to kill us, but…I still can’t stop thinking about that.”

Mirelle sniffled, and took a shuddering breath. She wiped her eyes with her left hand, and forced what she hoped was a brave smile to face. “There’s nothing…heroic…about killing someone. The heroism is…not in taking life, but…from protecting it. You have to…try and remember that…that we were saving our city. Everyone still alive here is…alive because of the terrible things we did.”

“Yeah. I know.” Tavaat sniffed, glancing at Beka. She stroked the scales of his cheek, and he leaned his head against hers. “It’s just hard, sometimes.”

“It will always be hard, Tavaat.” Mirelle turned her head to stare at the wall, and give them a moment together. “We just have to keep moving forward. We have to make sure that our actions, and the lives of everyone we lost, everyone they lost…that they mean something. That…they’re a step to something better.”

After a few long moments, Beka spoke up. “It’s already starting, I think. It sounds like…you must have given a hell of a speech to the other va’chaak tribe.”

Mirelle turned back towards her friend, furrowing her brow. “Why do you say…no, hold that thought. You said I’ve been out for…what, four days?”

Tavaat wiped his eyes. “Out is a…relative term.”

“You were out the whole first night.” Beka leaned her head against Tavaat’s shoulder, her hand over his. “Which made it easier for the healers to clean your wounds. Then after that, you were in and out of consciousness. They got you to drink some water with all sorts of herbs and medicine in it.”

Mirelle scrunched her face. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“I think that’s the point. Some of what they gave you…” Beka waggled her fingers around her head. “Messes with your mind, a bit, helps to keep you out of it, mentally, for the worst of the pain. I helped you out to the latrine a time or two, helped get you washed. You had a fever, so we used cool water to help break it.”

“I’m starting to appreciate not remembering any of that, now.”

Tavaat rumbled a laugh. “You were really babbling, too. One time, I think you told us you saw some urd’thin pup singing and dancing in your room. Then you asked the healers to invite him for dinner, and announced to the whole room that you owned a tavern.”

Beka giggled. “And that you were renaming it on honor of Revaramek. Well, I think you called him…Rervmerk Resplerder, but we knew who you meant.”

“I’ve heard worse ideas.” Mirelle closed her eyes, and took a slow, shuddering breath. Wherever he was, whatever he’d done, she hoped he was safe. “If not for him, nothing we did would have mattered. No one else could have stopped Asterbury. I won’t ever let anyone forget that.” She squeezed her left hand into a fist, then glanced at the others again. “What’s the city’s status? Has Gavak’s tribe completely withdrawn? What about Rekrek’s tribe? And…actually, answer this one first, it might be the most important. Who has been in charge?”

Her friends exchanged another look. “A little bit of everyone, I think. Enora and the gryphons-”

“What about them?” Mirelle sat up, gritting her teeth. “Please tell me they haven’t-”

“They haven’t.” Beka smiled and gestured at her to lay back down. “They’ve only offered to help. Enora, mostly, while the gryphons are recovering. Kurekka’s not able to do much yet, and Chir’raal rarely leaves his side, but they’ve been offering advice. Earlier, Chir’raal helped ferry a lot of wounded, helped make a few decisions. Enora’s sort of appointed herself temporarily in charge of Va’chaak affairs….”

“Temporarily?” Mirelle leaned forward a little as Tavaat tugged her pillow up behind her so she could lean back against it.

Beka rubbed her face, nodding. “Enora’s made it clear if you want her to step down or step back, she will. The rest of the remaining council’s been in charge of day to day affairs, but…again, they have said its only till you’re ready to take over. For what it’s worth, they’re doing a good job, and handling the va’chaak…in the right way, I think.”

Mirelle leaned her head against the wall. “So then, what about the va’chaak? You mentioned my speech. Rekrek…he didn’t try anything after I was gone, did he?”

Beka shook her head, smiling. “No. As a matter of fact, Rekrek offered to send his own healers into the city to help us care for all our wounded.”

Mirelle blinked, her jaw hanging open. “He…he did?”

“Enora said he called it a…” Tavaat swished his hand in the air. “A gesture of trust.”

“Accept the offer.” Mirelle licked her cracked lips. If Rekrek was willing to go that far, she had to return that trust. “Right now.”

“Enora already accepted.” Tavaat’s little red frills flicked up. “Some of them have been in the village for a few days now, working alongside our healers. Under guard supervision, of course.”

“Good. Good, that’s…that’s a good start. But…” Mirelle gazed around the room. “This is bigger than…” She trailed off, well aware that Rekrek might be putting himself at risk among his own people. She had to return that trust. She’d laid down the first block in the foundation of something better, and Rekrek had laid down the second. Now they had to build upon it. “It needs to be official. I need someone official, something I can sign. I want too…no, no we need to reciprocate. We need to send of our healers out past the walls, to help tend the wounded va’chaak.”

“Do you…do you really that’s wise?”

“I think it’s necessary. I told him I would negotiate with the survivors if it came to war, and I’m damn sure going to keep my word. Send out-”

Beka held up a hand. “I’m…not sure Tavaat and I are really authorized to do this sort of thing, Mirelle. Don’t you want someone qualified?”

“I’m looking at two of the most qualified people I know.” Mirelle held her hand out to her friends. “So consider yourselves authorized. You’re now my deputies, and you’ll be treated as such. I need people I can trust with my life to follow out my orders, and work in this town’s best interests. And right now I need you to do two things for me.”

Tavaat and Beka gazed at each other. They both fought back grins, at first, then gave Mirelle solemn nods. They took turns squeezing her hand. “Whatever you need, Mirelle.”

“Thank you both.” Mirelle gave them each a smile. “First, I need you to gather up some healers and surgeons with brave hearts. Get a group of guards together, who will be willing to escort them out to help them care for va’chaak wounded. And make sure they know that any va’chaak rituals and traditions with regards to burial or any other care of their dead are to be fully respected. Second…” Mirelle took a deep breath, expecting objection. “I want to see Rekrek. Today.”

“Mirelle, I don’t think that’s a-”

“And neither will anyone else, but I don’t care. Just make it happen. Make it clear it’s an order. I want to thank him, in person. He needs to see I’m serious about this. It’s important.” Mirelle sat up straighter, grimacing. “After that’s arranged, Beka, I’ll need you to help me get cleaned up and dressed before he arrives.”

“Alright, Mirelle.” Beka nodded a few times, leaning forward. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Mirelle smiled at them. “Thank you. Thank you both. For…” She glanced at the door, swallowing. “For having my back. For watching over me, for taking care of me. For…”

Tavaat patted her arm. “If you thank us for being your friends, I’m gonna laugh at you, cause that’s just silly. And…then I’ll probably a cry a little.”

“It was the absolute least we could do for you, Mirelle. We were both worried sick…”

“And we’re both so glad you’re alright now.”

Mirelle chuckled. “I’m a long ways from alright, but…I’m glad, too. Very well then.” With her left hand, she gestured at the door. “You have your orders. Dismissed.”

*****

Several hours later, Mirelle sat in a simple chair padded with plush, maroon cushions. She had discovered she was staying in a guest bedroom in the home of one of the town’s surgeons. It was near one of the buildings she designated for an influx of wounded. After they quelled her bleeding, they took her somewhere more private. For the meeting, Mirelle moved into the living room. There were comfortable chairs, a table, and shelves stacked with books on anatomy and medicine. Since all the chairs were made for humans, she asked for one suitable for a va’chaak to be delivered.

While she waited for Rekrek, the doctor visited to check up on her, and change her bandages. When that was done, Beka helped her get dressed. Mirelle picked out a blue and red blouse adorned with the village’s fist and shield emblems on each shoulder. She also put on a dark blue skirt, her bare feet peeking out. No one knew where her boots had gone. Mirelle didn’t care, as soon as her meetings were completed, she was going back to bed anyway.

Once she was dressed, she spoke with the three remaining council members and Knight Commander Elrind. Each voiced their gratitude for her heroism, and their objections to meeting with Rekrek so soon. Each objection was overturned. Mirelle asked Elrind for further updates, and was pleased to discover the young guard who’d ended up in charge of the north gate had survived, and been officially promoted to captain. When that meeting was over, she met with Enora to hear about the va’chaak. Mirelle made it clear to everyone that while precautions should be taken with Rekrek, she wanted him and his entourage to be treated with respect, and courtesy.

When the time came, she asked to be alone with Rekrek. Once more she overruled all objections. She did not believe she could properly convey a message of mutual trust if she kept herself surrounded by armored bodyguards glaring at him the whole time. A guard opened the door, and motioned inside with an armored hand. Through the doorway, Mirelle glimpsed at least six other va’chaak, all heavily armed and ready to defend their leader. There were twice as many of her own soldiers out there, just as ready to protect her life. Their loyalty made her smile, but somehow she doubted Rekrek wanted anyone else to die any more than she did.

The green va’chaak swept through the doorway. He did not wear any armor, and as far as she could tell, carried no weapons. Instead, he wore what appeared to be the va’chaak equivalent of a robe. Layers of cloth dyed purple and gold covered him. His tail protruded from a slit in the back. The animal skulls were gone, and in their place were a half dozen runes carved from bone and ivory, each hanging on its own cord draped around his neck. Golden bands circled his tail. It was enough to make Mirelle wish she’d been able to dress in something more official.

With great effort, and a pained grimace, Mirelle forced herself to her feet to greet him. “RekRek.” She bowed her head, hoping he knew the gesture as one of respect. “Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice and such…circumstances.”

Rekrek stared at her, his voice flat and even. “I’ve been told you’re the one who killed Gavak.”

A chill settled in Mirelle’s blood. She couldn’t read the lizard’s voice, or his expression. Was he going to avenge his former companion, or compliment her prowess as a warrior? No sense in lying, either way. “I was.” She lifted her splinted hand. “Right after he gave me this.” With her other hand, she pulled her blouse up just enough to show off her bandages. “And after he put a blade in my ribs.” She tugged her shirt back down.

The lizard snorted, his expression still blank. “Then should you not be resting?”

“You sound like my doctor. And my advisors. And...everyone else.”

Rekrek gave a grunt. He gazed around the room, licking his muzzle. “Bet they told you to have some guards in here, too.”

“A half dozen at least.”

The va’chaak cocked his head, staring at her. “So why don’t you?”

Mirelle only shrugged, her ribs aching. “I can’t build trust if I’m not willing to trust.”

Rekrek shifted his arms in his long, purple and gold sleeves. “So you don’t believe I’ll try and slay you to avenge Gavak? To choke the life out of you on behalf of all the dead va’chaak out there?”

“If all you wanted was revenge, you’d have attacked us when Gavak did. I think you want something better.” When the lizard finally blinked and glanced away, Mirelle offered him a smile. “Besides, I think I can take you.”

A hint of smile crinkled the pebbly green and red-marked scales of his muzzle. “At this point, I shouldn’t doubt you. You are perhaps the most stubborn human I have ever met.”

“I think I tried to tell you that when I first met you.” Mirelle’s smile grew a little. “You were the one putting lyrics to Asterbury’s theme song, weren’t you?”

Rekrek turned his gaze back to her, and gave a single nod. “Seemed like fun, at the time.”

“So did kicking you in the balls.” Mirelle gazed at her sling. “Think I told you to stay down, after that.”

Rekrek cringed at the memory. “Guess I shoulda listened. But you know, that’s not the sort of reminder a city official should be giving.”

“Why not?” Mirelle hardened her tone a little bit. “I did that because you and I were on opposite sides of a very important divide. You, and your kin, Alyaryl and Asterbury were there to conquer that town. Revaramek and I were there to defend it. But Revaramek and Asterbury and Aylaryl, they’re all gone now.” Her throat tightened, and she cleared it with a growl. “Revaramek’s not coming back. Asterbury is not coming back. So you, and I…we’re on our own. Our own peoples’ fate in each of our hands. It’s important for us to remember how this started, Rekrek, so we know how to make things better. So we know what not to do again.”

The va’chaak took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. “Why did you invite me here?”

“I’m getting to that.” Mirelle waved at the seat designed for his people. “Sit, please. Or stand, if you prefer. I’m going to sit. Every body part I have is killing me right now.”

Mirelle eased back into her chair, trying to get comfortable. Rekrek hiked up his robe and settled down across from her. Mirelle stared into the lizard’s dark eyes. “I wanted to thank you for trusting me. For holding your people back during the battle. And for-”

“I didn’t do it for you.” Rekrek glared back at her, his gaze piercing into her soul.

“I’ve heard that a lot lately.” Mirelle waved her good hand, shaking her head. “It’s tiresome, really. It doesn’t…it doesn’t make any sense, to me, to tell someone that. I’m not thanking them for helping me. I’m thanking them for doing the right thing, for doing what benefits others more than themselves. Rekrek, I give less than a shit what you think about me. I’m not thanking you for my own satisfaction. I’m thanking you on behalf of every life that was spared because you chose to make the hard decision. I’m thanking you for every man, woman, and child, human and va’chaak, who is still alive today simply because you trusted me to honor my word. Thank you for that trust. And more importantly, thank you for sending your people to help mine.”

Rekrek took a deep breath, opened his maw, and then instead of a rebuttal, only heaved a great sigh. All his little frills flattened against his head. “You…you offered us peace. I wasn’t sure I believed you when you offered us our hill, when said you wanted to fix the mistakes your predecessors made. But at the end, you…you offered us peace.” He swallowed and bowed his head, eyes closed. “No one’s ever offered us that before. Not in all the time your people have been here. It…it struck me. Still wasn’t sure I believed it, but…not even Asterbury offered us peace. I believed in him, Gavak believed in him…we all did. Still do, in a way. He did great things for us, saved…many, many va’chaak lives. But he never offered us peace. Only conquest. Revenge. I…I held my warriors back because for a little while, I had hope. Hope that maybe we could know peace.”

“You can.”

Rekrek clicked his teeth. “When the battle was over, I…I kept my warriors ready. Kept us prepared…I heard Gavak died, that his people were withdrawing. So I sent some of mine to help them. Not to pick up the fight, just to…help them.” Gavak rubbed his muzzle, sharp teeth grit. “Then I heard that you were killed.”

Mirelle straightened up. “You…heard I was dead?”

“It was the rumor, yes.” Rekrek waved a red and gold spotted hand, his robes rustling. “For that first night, everyone thought you and Gavak killed each other. Seemed like your men had rallied to fight on in your name, and, some of the surviving warriors saw a gryphon carrying your body.”

“I was unconscious.” Mirelle rubbed her fingers against the arm of her chair. “Bleeding all over Chir’raal. I must have looked dead.”

Rekrek stared out a window, where the setting sun painted the outside world in shades of burnt gold. Sunlight glinted off the armor of men standing watch. “If I’m honest with you, it terrified me.”

“My death terrified you?” Mirelle blinked, tilting her head. “If I may ask…why?”

“Your ideals.” Rekrek took a deep breath, and this time held it for a while. “I feared they would die with you. I doubted whoever would come to power next would…would offer us peace. Instead, I was afraid they’d sent their victorious army to force our surrender, force their terms upon us. When it was clear Gavak’s tribe was finished, a moment of terrible clarity struck me. That Asterbury really wasn’t coming back. That somehow, I had become the only bulwark between my tribe and another lifetime of violence. I have…no, nevermind.”

“No, go on.” Mirelle scooted her chair a little closer. She waved her hand. “We’re not…negotiating right now, we’re not even…leaders. We’re just…two people, talking about…why we chose peace.”

Rekrek rubbed his muzzle, blinked a few times, and flicked his tail. “I have a mate.” He growled under his breath, glancing away. “Had a mate.” He held up a clawed hand to cut off Mirelle’s reply. “She’s still alive, but we…she’s…I think you would say…with child.”

Mirelle swallowed. “Pregnant, I think.”

The va’chaak put his muzzle in a hand, his gaze unfocused. “With my egg, yes. Maybe even laid it, hatched it by now…”

“You…you don’t know?”

“I said I had a mate. She…” He shifted in his chair, leaning his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “She did not…want me to be…part of our child’s life.”

Mirelle sucked in a breath, speaking before she could stop herself. “Why?”

“Asterbury.” Rekrek flicked his tail. “Because I worked for Asterbury. To help him conquer villages, burn homes. She said she…would not want any child of hers to be reared by someone who could burn a village. At the time, I…tried to convince her we were only doing what was just, what had been done to us. That soon, Asterbury would lead us to reclaim our sacred land. She…she told me all I was doing was…ensuring my child would know a future of bloodshed, just as we knew.”

“Gods.” Mirelle rubbed her forehead, torn between a desire to tell Rekrek his former mate was right, and to reach out and comfort him.

“The point is, Councilwoman.” Rekrek straightened up again. “When I heard that you and Gavak had both died, I had a realization. I saw my child’s future slipping through my claws like sand, and soon I feared that sand would turn to blood. The only one to ever offer us peace was dead, and we were now outnumbered by our enemies. I…I did not want your ideals to die with you. And so I gathered up the bravest healers we had, those with the courage to venture into the nest of our enemies, unarmed, and offer to help save those enemies’ lives. Not for you, not for your people or for mine. But…for our future. For my child’s future. To show all your people that…that I wanted peace. That like you, I wanted to build something better. I think that was how you put it. I just hoped it would not be too late.”

“And that, Rekrek.” Mirelle leaned forward. Though it sent a spike of agony into her ribs, she stretched her arm to grasp one of the va’chaak’s hands and squeeze it, staring into his eyes. “Is why I thank you.”

Rekrek gave her a surprised look, glancing at her hand. He returned the squeeze, then fidgeted with one of the runes around his neck after she withdrew. “I must admit, when I look back at the things I’ve done. Not just for Asterbury, but in general…I do not feel fit to be deciding my people’s future. My father was an important chief in my tribe. When he died, Asterbury…well, by then we were already indebted to him.”

Mirelle settled her arms against the chair. “Enora said he saved your people from a plague.”

“He did. I think many of us would have followed him anywhere, after that. I know I would have. He put me in charge of my tribe’s war efforts. I suddenly feel…” His gaze drifted, his voice softened. “Very unworthy.”

“And in many ways, you are.” Mirelle’s voice hardened where the va’chaak’s grew softer. “From the sounds of things, your former mate would be a better voice for your people than you. Given our history, I’d rather be negotiating with her. But life never gives us just what we want. And in two very, very important ways, you are worthy to serve as your people’s voice. For one, it is clear they listen to you. You have their hearts. The other is despite all you’ve done, you’ve made the right choice, at the right time, when it mattered the most. So consider this your second chance, Rekrek. This is your chance to make right for all the horrible things you’ve done. To put your past behind you, to put Asterbury behind you, and build your people’s future on your terms, not his.” She smiled at him and held out her hand. “Give your child, and all your people’s children, a reason to be proud of you. Help me build a city where they’ll be welcome.”

Rekrek stared at her hand for long, silent moments. Finally, he reached out and grasped it. “So be it, Councilwoman.”