Dreamsnake (35 page)

She had not even thought what could happen when North and his
people revived. “Not now, but later, tomorrow—” Abruptly, she
struggled to rise. “If I sleep, I won’t wake up in time—”

He soothed her. “Rest. I’ll keep watch till morning. Then we
can move to a safer place.”

With his reassurance, she could rest. He left her for a
moment, and she lay flat on the ground, her fingers spread wide
and pressing down, as if the earth held her to it yet gave
something back. Its coolness helped ease her returning awareness
of the crossbow wound. She heard Arevin kneel beside her, and he
laid a cool, wet cloth across her shoulder to soak loose the
frayed material and dry blood. She watched him through her
eyelashes, again admiring his hands, the long lines of his body.
But his touch was as neutral as his words had been.

“How did you find us?” she asked. “I thought you were a
dream.”

“I went to the healers’ station,” he said. “I had to try to
make your people understand what happened and that the fault was
my clan’s, not yours.” He glanced at her, then away, sadly. “I
failed, I think. Your teacher said only that you must go home.”

Before, there had been no time for Arevin to respond to what
she had said to him, that she dreamed about him and loved him.
But now he acted as if she had never said those things, as if he
had done what he had done out of duty alone. Snake wondered,
with a great empty feeling of loss and regret, if she
misunderstood his feelings. She did not want more gratitude and
guilt.

“But you’re here,” she said. She pushed herself up on her
elbow, and with some effort sat to face him. “You didn’t have to
follow me, if you had a duty it ended at my home.”

He met her gaze. “I
…
dreamed about
you, too.” He leaned toward her, forearms resting on his knees,
hands outstretched. “I never exchanged names with another
person.”

Slowly, gladly, Snake slid her dirty, scarred left hand
around his clean, dark-tanned right one.

He looked up at her. “After what happened—”

Wishing even more now that she was not hurt, Snake released
his hand and reached into her pocket. The eggling dreamsnake
coiled itself around her fingers. She brought it out and showed
it to Arevin. Nodding toward the wicker basket, she said, “I
have more in there, and I know how to let them breed.”

He stared at the small serpent, then at her, in wonder. “Then
you did reach the city. They accepted you.”

“No,” she said. She glanced toward the broken dome. “I found
dreamsnakes up there. And a whole alien world, where they live.”
She let the eggling slip back into her pocket. It was growing
used to her already; it would make a good healer’s serpent. “The
city people sent me away, but they haven’t seen the last of
healers. They still owe me a debt.”

“My people owe you a debt, too,” Arevin said. “A debt I’ve
failed to repay.”

“You helped save my daughter’s life! Do you think that counts
for nothing?” Then, more calmly, Snake said, “Arevin, I wish
Grass were still alive. I can’t pretend I don’t. But my
negligence killed him, nothing else. I’ve never thought anything
but that.”

“My clan,” Arevin said, “and my cousin’s partner—”

“Wait. If Grass hadn’t died, I’d never have started home when
I did.”

Arevin smiled slightly.

“And if I hadn’t come back then,” Snake said, “I never would
have gone to Center. I never would have found Melissa. And I
never would have encountered the crazy or heard about the broken
dome. It’s as if your clan acted as a catalyst. If not for you
we would have kept on begging the city people for dreamsnakes,
and they would have kept on refusing us. The healers would have
gone on unchanging until there were no dreamsnakes and no
healers left. That’s all different now. So maybe I’m in as much
debt to you as you think you are to me.”

He looked at her for a long time. “I think you are making
excuses for my people.”

Snake clenched her fist. “Is guilt all that can exist between
us?”

“No!” Arevin said sharply. More quietly, as if surprised by
his own outburst, he said, “At least, I’ve hoped for something
more.”

Relenting, Snake took his hand. “So have I.” She kissed his
palm.

Slowly, Arevin smiled. He leaned closer, and a moment later
they were embracing each other.

“If we’ve owed each other, and repaid each other, our people
can be friends,” Arevin said. “And perhaps you and I have earned
the time you once said we needed.”

“We have,” Snake said.

Arevin brushed the tangled hair back from her forehead. “I’ve
learned new customs since I came to the mountains,” he said. “I
want to take care of you while your shoulder heals. And when
you’re well, I want to ask if there’s anything else I can do for
you.”

Snake returned his smile; she knew they understood each
other. “That’s a question I’ve wanted to ask you, too,” she
said, and then she grinned. “Healers mend quickly, you know.