Dindi
The next morning, Dindi kept sneaking glances toward the boys' side of the river, trying to catch a look at Kavio.
He was around the bend, out of sight, where the boys washed and got ready for travel. The girls were bathing too, and painting the black kohl blindfolds of the Initiates across their eyes.
Dindi had to wear her old wrap again. She wished she could wear the beautiful cloth Kavio had lent her. She still hadn't had the chance to return it.
But it wasn't Kavio who called her aside.
It was Zavaedi Brena.
"Dindi," the older woman said. "I'm sorry. Your friend told us he has no name."
"He has a name, it's—"
"He has no clan and no tribe, Dindi. He's an exile."
Dindi felt cold. "So?"
"So we can't allow an exile to travel with us."
"But he saved me…"
"Which is why you must be there when I tell him he can't come with us."
Dindi's stomach twisted. "Must we?"
"He's a criminal. An outcaste. He has no place among us. He must agree that the lifedebt is settled. He must agree to ask nothing more—from you or from us. He helped you, and we pay him. That's all."
She reached into her satchel. "Bring one of the guest gifts your family gave you for barter."
Dindi thought about what she had. She had seen how fine Kavio's cloth was. What could she offer that he would think was even worth keeping?
A chert scraper? No.
A flint arrowhead? He probably used obsidian.
Some teardrop-shaped stone loom weights? Fa, he didn't get those muscles weaving.
"I have no worthy gifts," she said quietly.
Zavaedi Brena clicked her tongue. "He's just a clanless beggar, child. I'm sure a simple thing will do." She pulled out a small pottery bowl with the swan symbol of Dindi's clan. "This will work. Now come."
Dindi took the bowl—and also the cloth Kavio had lent her. Miserable, she followed Brena across the log bridge to the boys' side of the river.
"Careful, Dindi!" called Tamio, the first boy to spot her. "Don't fall in again!"
The boys laughed.
Another stupid Dindi trick. One I'll never live down.
She tried to ignore them.
"Where is Kavio?" Zavaedi Brena asked sharply.
Tamio stopped laughing. "You mean the stranger? He's farther down the river."
They followed the river.
The water this morning shimmered with playful fae. Blue naiads and undines splashed and waved. They were cheerful—not like the dark ones from last night.
Kavio knelt by a still pool at the edge of the river. He was pressing thick ash and mud onto his face and chest.
When he stood, he no longer looked like the warrior who had saved her. His face was strange and rough. His eyes, bright behind the mud, looked straight into hers.
He nodded to Zavaedi Brena.
He already knew why they were there.
Zavaedi Brena paused. Her voice dropped. "He may not accept the gift. By tradition, he's allowed to ask for anything. If he demands something… inappropriate… let me handle it."
Dindi nodded. But she wasn't sure what "inappropriate" meant.
Zavaedi Brena raised her voice. "Stranger. This child brings you a gift to repay the lifedebt. Will you accept this and go on your way?"
She stood very still, tense.
"Yes," Kavio said. His voice was flat. "I understand. I'll travel alone."
"Give it to him," Brena said, nudging Dindi. "I'll stay nearby."
Dindi walked forward.
She hated every step.
"Kavio," she said. Her throat hurt. He had saved her life. And now she had to tell him he wasn't allowed to stay with them.
She held out the cloth first. It was neatly folded again.
"Here's your cloth," she said. "Thank you for lending it to me."
He took it without a word.
"You're an exile," she added. Then bit her tongue. Stupid. He already knew that.
"Yes," he said. One word. He waited for her to finish.
"Here…" she held out the bowl. Her lashes lowered. She couldn't meet his eyes. "This is all I have to give you."
She added, in a whisper, "I'm sorry. I guess my life isn't worth much."
Her hands trembled.
"I accept it," he said.
He looked at her for just a moment more.
"Don't worry. I won't bother you again."
Then he lifted his pack, said nothing more, and walked away.
But the look he gave her before turning…
…it pierced her like a spear.