Chapter 5

In the morning, finding Dera curled in my arms, I found it strange how little had changed. The news of the previous day seemed distant, an event in last week's paper. Not that I wasn't still shocked, but it was as if all my feelings had been sealed up somewhere where I couldn't get at them -- and they couldn't get at me. I knew Tishrana would be arriving in two or three days and that on that day, my emotions would return.

Until then, life went on.

There were a few changes instigated by Dera. He insisted on becoming more responsible for Adelna. I had been working too hard, he told me, and besides, I shouldn't allow him to fall into the role of of a weakling. Later on in the hosting, he would truly need my support, he said, but at two weeks he should be healthy and strong, able to handle his share of responsibility. He had taken excellent care of Ilafa during his Feybraiha, after all.

I had a talk with Adelna. I'd never really discussed Tishrana much, not with my son. We had been together so long before his time I never felt it was necessary. I although thought perhaps it would be difficult for him to imagine me being with someone other than Dera, even though he had, on many an occasion, met my other children and even grandchildren. I was glad that he was not too apprehensive about meeting him.

Dera had known about Tishrana from the beginning. I had told him the tale shortly after we two had met. It was one of the things that drew us closer. Like Dera, I too had known the pain of loss through random circumstance, the pain when one's mate is gone forever. The two of us had learned to overcome our grief. It was only now that I learned that mine had been misplaced. Now my love was coming back from the dead.

I tried to imagine what sort of story he would tell me. Had he been taken prisoner? Had he made a life for himself at the bottom of that canyon? All I knew was that I thought him dead. I briefly imagined something fantastic -- perhaps he'd been reincarnated or given a new body like the Tigron Pellaz. After all, unlike the Tigron Calanthe, I had never actually seen his body. I had imagined he was dead and at the time it seemed likely. What on earth had happened to him?

I half-feared that once he arrived, the har would be someone I did not recognize, that it would all be a misunderstanding or a horribly cruel joke. However, when the afternoon came and I heard the sound of horses at the garden gate and looked up to see the tall, red-headed rider, I knew it was no impostor. It was he.

Ilafa and Ilam were with him, but I barely saw them, even as they embraced me. No, my eyes were only for Tishrana. Without a word, Ilafa took Adelna away into the house; with a silent thought, I told him to ask Dera to come outside.

It was only when they had gone that Tishrana dismounted and tied up his horse. He was very tall with hair that flowed incredibly, past his waist, so that it seemed a living creature. His cheeks were pale as ever, his eyes the same fierce blue. Of course he had not aged, not in body, but immediately I knew that inside he had felt, just as I had, the passage of the years.

He moved towards me slowly, a pack slung over one shoulder, eyes roaming my body with such strength it almost felt like a touch. It was then that it all became too much. This was the moment that was impossible but possible. I flung myself at him, without an ounce of shame, without hesitation, with sobs of joy and pain.

My first words to him could have been better chosen, but as I wept into his hair, as we embraced each other like two figures drowning in the sea, I could not help but voice my thought.

"All those years," I choked, "I thought you were dead!"

"No, Fafa, no," he soothed. His voice was sad. "I was not dead."

His hands slipped to my shoulders and as he pulled out of embrace. I saw him glance over his shoulder. "Your partner," he said.

I saw Dera coming down the steps, all dressed in green and looking very feminine. Looking back to Tishrana, I saw a resemblance that had somehow never occurred to me. Tishrana was taller and Dera's nose was much finer, but they both had beautiful auburn hair, smooth fair skin, and feminine looks that draped over the steel of their strong, har bodies.

I reached out my hand as Dera approached. "Dera," I introduced, "this is Tishrana."

Dera inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I have heard much about you."

"I can imagine," Tishrana replied.

By silent accord we all took seats around a small table. I sat in the chair nearest Tishrana, with Dera sitting off to the side as if he knew of my desire -- how could he not? -- to be as close as possible to him whom I had lost.

Tishrana continued. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to tell you what really happened to me."

Dera and I both leaned towards him.

"For twenty years, I was dead."