There’s a long moment of silent stillness. The playing cubs seem to have picked up on the tense atmosphere and have ceased their play. Instead, the three raptorcat cubs have clustered around Bastet and are watching with wide eyes. Lathani has taken several faltering steps towards us, but has paused hesitantly a few metres away from the centre of the action. Even Fenrir has approached the cave and is crouching in the mouth, seemingly trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible while still being able to watch.

None of us dare to twitch, barely even breathing as we wait for Kalanthia’s response. Finally, she moves, lowering her head down. Using one paw, she taps at his jaw, encouraging him to open the eyes he has squeezed shut and look up. He does and she meets his gaze. I see a shudder go through his body, his jaws sagging slightly open.

What part did you play in the torment of my cub, lizard-kin? I ‘hear’ Kalanthia’s words as if from down a long tunnel. Focusing on them, I realise that I’m hearing them through the Bond: she’s not projecting them to everyone, just to River. Their tone is hard, cutting in a way that I’ve never felt before. Even blunted by being passed through the Bond, I still sense the edges. It’s only solely because of what I can feel from River that I realise the very nature of the Bond is designed to prevent damaging effects from passing straight through the Bound to affect the Binder.

The lizard-man is in pain, mental pain, as Kalanthia’s telepathy scours his mind. I remember her once telling me that she couldn’t read my thoughts; I now wonder if that’s more that she wasn’t rather than that she truly couldn’t. Because that’s certainly what this feels like: a mental attack.

My Bound reacts in exactly the same way I would have encouraged him to: he hurriedly offers up the memories of exactly how he behaved with her cub. River is clearly nowhere near the deft hand with telepathy that Kalanthia is – as he offers up the images to her perusal, he also accidentally sends them down the Bond too.

I watch images of River caring for Lathani, changing her water, giving her food... and making sure she drank the potion mixed by the herbalist. His care is brusque and emotionless, but for all that, it isn’t rough or cruel in any way. It’s clear that taking care of Lathani was a task like any other, and one he would do to the best of his abilities. That was all.

Then, although unasked for by Kalanthia, River continues by offering up further memories of pulling Lathani out of the cage, handing her out to me, then running through the village and the forest while being pursued by his people. Then, he gives memories of spending time with Lathani as we travelled, getting to know her a little. I hadn’t realised how much they had talked while I wasn’t paying attention. He ends with a more vocal thought. I didn’t think of her as a feeling being who would be missed; I now realise I was wrong – we were wrong. Take your due, Great Predator.

With that, the razor-blades of Kalanthia’s attention leave River’s mind. I open my eyes, not realising when I had closed them. No longer focusing so intently on the Bond, I fix my attention instead on Kalanthia. I feel the attention of my other Bound sharpen on Kalanthia as well: we all know that the next few seconds will either lead to River’s salvation...or his doom.

The moment stretches, tension becoming unbearable. When my lungs start clamouring, I realise that I’ve forgotten to breathe and quickly remedy the situation. Finally, Kalanthia responds. Fortunately, it’s not to bite the lizard-man’s head off.

You were part of my cub’s torment, but your Binder is correct – it was only the smallest part. The rage which had previously been in her tone has cooled. It’s now verging on icy, and I almost shiver to hear it, even second-hand. You have already made some amends, and your decision to offer your life to me in recompense speaks well of you. Yet… She trails off and I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. Yet, you are Bound, so it is not for you to decide your fate. Her tone is measured, pensive. Markus Wolfe, what say you?

I startle a little, not having expected her to so suddenly include me. The clarity of her ‘voice’ indicates that she’s intending on projecting to me, rather than me hearing her through the Bond as I had done most of the previous conversation. If I’m understanding Kalanthia correctly, she’s going to make me part of the decision-making process. I swallow, my throat dry, responsibility settling heavily once more on my shoulders. I could either save River in the next few moments, or damn him.

Refusing to let the weight of that thought paralyse me, I step forwards, my thoughts racing. I use the short time it takes me to come level with River to construct an argument I hope is good enough to save River’s life.

“Not that I feel he needed to but River has already asked for permission to offer you his life in recompense for the actions he has taken against your cub. I will not stand in the way of whatever you choose – to do so would do him a disservice. However,” and here I swallow again, licking dry lips, “I hope that you will be merciful, that you will leave him his life. He is repentant and has worked hard to bring Lathani back to you. And I would miss him greatly.” My language is more formal than I would normally use, but the whole situation has such a sense of solemnity to it that I can’t help but use more archaic words than usual. Kalanthia eyes me.

You could easily replace him if I did take his life as my due. The lizard-folk are numerous. I shake my head.

“Perhaps I could Dominate another lizard-person, but it wouldn’t be River. I cannot replace the person I’ve planned with, fought alongside, and conversed with. He’s more than a tool – he’s a friend.” I’d come to that conclusion yesterday while walking through the forest; I’m not going to shy away from it now..

And if I chose to leave him his life in exchange for recompense from you instead, what say you? My heart skips a beat, relief and anxiety mixing inextricably. Still, there’s only one answer I can give, only one answer that I can accept from myself. I look her square in the eyes, determination in my heart.

“Then that’s what I will do. Of course, I’d hope we could work something out rather than you killing me, if only because I just rescued your cub at your request.” That was, after all, exactly what I was aiming for from the beginning of the conversation. Kalanthia just looks at me curiously for a few moments.

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You are an odd Binder, she says finally. To fight so hard for your Bound when just days ago you were enemies who would have as soon killed each other. I refuse to break eye contact.

“It does not seem so odd to me. They do what they can for me; I do what I can for them. That we might have been enemies without the Bond is immaterial. Can you truly tell me that if you and I had met out here while you were hunting, that you would not have killed me without a second thought?”

No, she replies, the hint of amusement in her voice. Looking away, she prods River with one of her great paws. Fortunately, her sword-like claws are sheathed. Get up, she orders, her voice once more cold. Your Binder has agreed to recompense me, so I choose not to take your life in balance for your crimes against my cub. It would displease me to bring sadness to the heart of the human who has brought happiness back to mine. River scrambles to his feet but moves no further, determination still emanating from the Bond. I feel apprehension fill me. What is he going to do next?

And my village? he dares to ask, even though looking like it takes every ounce of his courage to not just run away now the reprieve has been given to him. Kalanthia lifts her lips again and snarls a little at him though the sound is incomparable to the rumble that filled the cave earlier.

You are impertinent, she complains, though with only a slight edge, like she’s unsheathing her claws to show their threat, but doesn’t actually intend on using them – yet. I shall discuss your village’s fate with your Binder. Now away, before I regret my mercy. River seems to sense that it’s as much as he’s going to get out of her without annoying her further. Either that or he finally gets the warning from our Bond which I’ve been trying to send him ever since I felt he wasn’t completely done.

Whichever is the case, He raises his chin to bare his throat and then walks away from her. He doesn’t go far, crouching against one of the walls of the cave, but it’s far enough to symbolise that he’s leaving it in our hands. I feel a sense of hopeful trust coming across the Bond and it increases the sense of pressure I feel to find a good solution.

Kalanthia settles back to the ground and her posture relaxes a little. In response, everyone else relaxes a little bit. The cubs go back to their play, though Lathani comes over to press herself to her mother’s underside. Fenrir disappears back into the rain and I sit back down. I sense that the atmosphere has changed a little: Kalanthia is now open to negotiation, where before I’d had the sense that she was hellbent on pursuing blood.

“What do you want in exchange for the lives of River and his tribe?” I ask bluntly. In my experience, some negotiating parties need to be approached gently, a consensus brought about more by vague implications than outright demands or offers; others benefit more from bluntness. This situation is most definitely that of the latter.

Why do you care about your Bound’s village? They are not even allies of yours. In fact, I would hazard a guess that they would kill you on sight.

“Probably,” I admit. Either that or try to capture me again and use me for my crafting skills. “But they matter to him, and so they matter to me.” Musing, I add a further thought. “They only mattered to me before because they had hurt two beings I care about – you and Lathani. I was angry at them then for that reason. Now...if I seek revenge on Lathani’s behalf, or stand aside while you do, I’ll hurt someone else I’ve come to care for. So, while I’m aware that you don’t need me to stand aside in order to do whatever you want, I hope that we can come to some agreement where everyone benefits.”

I see, she says thoughtfully, cool reason now permeating the presence around her where it had first been filled with fiery and then icy fury. Then let us negotiate.

“You said that you had two concerns, I believe,” I start, remembering back to what she had said at the beginning. “What they did to Lathani in the first place, and what they might do in the future. Is that correct?”

It is.

“Let’s start with what they did to Lathani, then. I understand that seeking the deaths of everyone even peripherally connected to the deed would be satisfying. Heck, I want to bash the head of that shaman in myself,” I admit. “But ultimately, it wouldn’t change anything. You mentioned that what they’d done was use future potential as fuel for the present: what are the consequences of that, and is there any way of repairing whatever damage is caused?” Kalanthia eyes me, hints of her previous fury returning to her aura.

The village of the lizard-folk have done my cub wrong. They have stolen years off her life. They would have done worse, had you not intervened, but I do not hold what they have not done against them, no matter their intentions. However, the fact remains that they have stolen from her, and I will have restitution for that. She shifts position a little.

You ask what are the consequences of their actions: it is the weakening of her foundations, the reduction of the time she has to build towards the next stage. This period of her life should have been a state of steady Energy accumulation. Her channels building slowly yet surely is the best way to set a foundation for the next stage. Instead, she has had a rush of Energy directly from her spirit which has both set the basis for less effective Energy channels and weakened her spirit. All that will take time and effort to correct, let alone to start building what she should have had in the first place. In short, she has lost years that she should have spent strengthening herself, and what has been created is a poor shadow of what it could have been. All because of the greed of a pack of wretched reptiles!

“I see,” I say, though I don’t really. Channels? Foundation? Stages? I understand all these words, but not in this context. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate here,” I preface a little nervous about her possible reaction to my next words, “but didn’t you attack them first?” She bares her teeth at me directly, a growl rumbling in her throat. I don’t mind admitting that my stomach clenches in fear – her canines are longer than my head.

They wandered into my hunting grounds and dare to claim that I was in the wrong for hunting them? Her snarl increases in volume. I pat the air placatingly, eyeing her cautiously.

“They haven’t claimed anything! I was just speaking to River about the start of the hostilities. I didn’t realise they’d gone into your...territory.” Her rumbling snarl subsides and her lips droop to mostly cover her teeth.

They entered my hunting grounds and I hunted them. Like ants, more came, following the trail the previous had left. I killed them too. More and more came until, like with ants, I chose to leave rather than clearing out the nest. The rumble in her chest grows a little in volume again. Perhaps I should have – they could not have kidnapped Lathani if I had wiped out every single one of them.

“Whoa,” I say, trying to do my best to project calm through my voice. “Let’s put gratuitous...uh...hunting on one side for a moment. What do you see as being the restitution they need to pay?”