On patrol, the duck flails as Ratho’s bola tugs the bird to the earth. “Yes!” he shouts. He and Thae run to retrieve it.
Mirko bugles and flaps on the cairn. Tiny ice shards tinkle from his feathers to the sand. Everything is glazed by crystalized dew this cold evening.
I stoke the fire and wiggle my fingers to remove the stiffness. I’ll want to pluck the duck swiftly, as the cook has only been serving half portions back at the mesa. Winter hardens the governs even more.
“For you, my friend.” Ratho flops the bird at my feet. The head bounces over a rock, and the empty black eyes look like cold pebbles.
I plunge my knife into the carcass and work to remove the warm entrails out the vent. “That was a great throw, Ratho.”
“Thanks.”
Mirko chortles his approval and Thae drops next to Ratho. Kneeling, he cuts off the duck head, hands it to her, and she voraciously bites into the flesh.
I lower the sticky heart, liver, and kidneys into the pot of boiling water hanging from the tripod I made. Mirko chirps for the remainder of the innards. I toss the glob to him and run my hands through the cold sand to cleanse them.
Ratho reaches around me and begins plucking feathers from the bird, storing them in his pack before the wind whisks them away. Reaching again, his arm grazes my chest. Tingles travel over my torso. He moves around me and sits down opposite so we both can easily reach the carcass.
“What?” he asks. I shrug and pull at a feather that won’t give way in my weakened grasp. “Here.” Ratho brushes my hand, leaving hot spots on my palm, and he dislodges the feather.
“Thanks.” We work silently.
This is not supposed to get more difficult, for Verities’ sake! Why am I not moving past it by the strength of my amulet? I glance at Ratho. Festering fleabots! When did his shoulders broaden even further? I furtively look at my own body. My shoulders have remained narrow. His hips and backside are unchanged. As I shift and then carefully move away from the fire, the flames brighten the large cavern my rump has left in the sand. I sweep my hand through the granules as if to clean off debris. My backside has spread like Mirko’s!
I look over at my rapion, who is watching. He waggles his eyeridge at me.
I glare back. A bit of meat twirls between his beak, and he slurps it up as if in response to my fear. Certainly I am older, but is my body changing as Father warned? It can’t . . . it simply cannot.
Now I catch Ratho staring at me. “What?” My voice shakes.
“I was just thinking how I’m glad to be patrolling with you, Tiadone. You are a good mate.”
“As are you.” I give the standard reply. It is all my brain can manage.
“I need to use the trench.” He rolls the goose toward me. “You can finish up while I’m gone.”
“I will. I’m as hungry as you, you know.”
Ratho springs to his feet. Thae nudges the duck head to me and flaps a wing in warning at Mirko, who bobs. “I’ll guard your food, Thae,” I say. She nods and flies to Ratho. The two drop behind the ridge.
How can I be losing my mind over his body? I shake my amulet, and then work fiercely at plucking the duck naked.