I exit the latrines and wander the empty Common. Mirko’s rump protrudes from under a lavender bush, and my stomach growls in anticipation of his catch. I could use a rabbit pelt once my head is shaved. I have to focus on the practical; it’s the only way to get through the coming days.
“I’ll wait for you at the far fire pit, Mirko.” His tail flicks. I hitch my pack and stroll to the ring. It seems like yesterday I was greeted by Lalo, and Mirko and Els twirled together. I squat by the remaining coals and move a few twigs until little flames spring up among the windweeds.
“Might I join you?” Govern Madgea surprises me. She sits before I can answer, nudging my amulet aside. With patrols changing, I didn’t expect any company. My mind finds no small talk to share. I worry a twist.
“Ah, the warm fire oils the aching joints.”
“That is what my father would say,” I blurt.
She smiles, but I look away, ashamed I mentioned him. Surely she’s heard of his punishment and recant.
“Your Singer?” the govern asks.
“Oh!” I startle. “He’s under that shrub trying to snare a rabbit.”
She draws her skirts over her skinny ankles and shades her eyes to see the lavender.
“Um . . . He is able to roam farther than most rapion,” I say.
“Curious,” she says, and turns to me. “So I understand your Severation is only days away.”
I will my blood to pound slower.
“You will be fine,” she says. I force a nod. “As you said, your Singer is special. I doubt you will lose complete contact after Return.”
“Oh, we will. Rapion do not come to the village, and R’tan are not permitted to visit the Cliffs.”
She straightens her apron. “Yes. That is an unfortunate injunction. But don’t lose hope.”
I resist huffing at the impossible.
Madgea taps her front teeth. “I still haven’t found any Singer information in my readings.”
“R’tan writings?” I whisper.
“Tut, tut. Me and books, Tiadone.” I stare at her. She whispers now. “I can’t be separated, you know. My brother kept many volumes from your library when it appeared he destroyed everything.” She winks. “I entertain myself with reading of your culture in particular.” I will my mouth to close. She pats her hair as if we were simply discussing the clouds. “I find the R’tan — intriguing.” I glow from the praise for my people. If only we had access to those works! We could know our history and so much more. And the R’tan would gain power.
“Oh.” She touches my leg, “I have news.”
“Yes?”
“Two boys reported for Patrol just days ago, from your village. Both took a stomach strain and were sent to me for recovery. My occasional questions received good responses for you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.” She grins. “Ratho is doing well. He is reunited with his family and has been assigned work with the flock keeper.” I attempt surprise. She continues. “And your father — let’s say he’s well again and teaching Ratho.”
I lay my cool hand to my hot forehead. “This is good,” I say. I raise my eyes and look into her open face. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
She smiles and holds her hands to the fire. Mirko’s victory cry pierces the quiet. With two rabbits gripped in his talons, he swoops overhead. “Ha!” the Healing Govern laughs. “You will not be hungry tonight!”
Mirko flaps downward. Emboldened by her kindness, I ask in a rush, “Would you eat with me, Govern, before I return to Lookout for my last week of service?”
She winks. “I’d love to, Tiadone.”