Page 160 of Moonless

We eat while Mel tells her which words the children have learned. Birdie gives us no more than once. Eskan uses it when Keer takes the hot dish out of reach, and Colm falls asleep with a piece of bread still in his hand.

By the time the plates are empty, Birdie’s leaning against my arm. I keep it on the bench so she can rest there. A woman with a basket goes the long way around our table and stares at the two of us the whole way. I keep still and let her look. Mel waves at her.

Kestria has gone quiet beside me, her cup held in both hands. She’s had all she can take for one day.

Mel notices when she tries to straighten. “Come on. We’ll walk you home.”

Keer gets Colm up against his chest, then Eskan onto his other arm, and settles their weight before he stands.

Mel turns to Birdie. “Your turn.”

Birdie presses her face into my sleeve.

“She’s going to take that shirt off you,” Kestria tells me.

I work the cloth loose with my blunt fingertips. Mel lifts her, and Birdie reaches back for me once before putting her head on her mother’s shoulder. I’d have kept her a while longer.

I stand while Kestria gathers the cloak. My thigh pulls enough that I hold the table until it eases.

Hitto. That’ll be worse by morning. Then I lift the sack onto my right shoulder, so the strap stays off her mark.

I feel through the side of the sack for the hide bundle at the bottom. My father’s shirt is still there, with the stones in the fold. I settle the sack against my hip with the rolled fur hanging below it.

Kestria takes her bow, and I help her settle the cloak around both shoulders.

Axan stays by the fire, stacking the empty dishes with his good hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kes.”

“Try not to miss me too much.”

He lifts his good hand without looking up.

Keer leads us between the dwellings, with Mel beside him and Birdie’s face turned back toward us. Kestria walks close enough that her sleeve brushes mine.

The hen comes along after Mel, and the rooster comes along after the hen, as far from my leg as the path lets him.

When the path bends, she points with the bow. “That one.”

Mel goes ahead to lift the latch, balancing Birdie against her hip. She pushes the door open and steps back.

The hen goes straight in past her feet. Mel hooks her back out with her foot without looking down. “Not you, Nugget.”

Kestria stops beside her.

There are clothes hanging from a peg just inside, and a belt with its loose end doubled through the buckle. Farther in, there’s enough light left to see the floor’s been swept. Everything on that peg is her size.

Kestria puts a hand on the doorframe. “You left my things.”

Mel looks at the peg. “Of course.”

“That’s where I put them that night. Even the belt.”

I stop behind Kestria and leave her room at the doorway. The air coming out smells of her. It’s weeks old, with soap and Mel over the top of it, but it’s Kestria, and her wolf’s still in it. I keep that to myself.

She looks farther into the house but doesn’t step in. “It’s clean.”

“Well, yes. It needed doing.”

It didn’t need doing. Nobody’s been in there but Mel.