Cheeyt hovered over her mother and sisters. She knew she was hovering—Nuliyaa’s silent glares would have been enough to tell her even if she wasn’t already aware—but she couldn’t stop. Not after today’s events.

So when Miyt said she was thirsty, Cheeyt fetched water from the bucket the civil guards had set up. When Nuliyaa shivered, she grabbed a blanket off a nearby stack and draped it over her shoulders. When Tseetsaa rubbed at the side that had been injured in the last fight, Cheeyt went to the medical station and begged for a pain remedy. And when the three stumbled over to Kachaark when the medical station was done treating him, Cheeyt followed with her eyes on the surroundings as though the civil guards and Malk pounces wouldn’t be enough to hold off any of Yengkima’s people that hadn’t been caught yet.

Nuttulch and Saknuu were hovering, too, though they’d spent more time with the mage-healers and were groggy. She was trying not to think about them.

Singmij had disappeared with Chesfi and the man leading the civil guards. Cheeyt tried not to wonder what she was doing, either, or how she had fared in the outside the store house. According to Tseetsaa and Miyt, their plan hadn’t been working. There had been too many people around for them to sneak back into the store house, even with the distractions Nuliyaa and Cheeyt had been setting.

“Do you think it was the inn? That told them where to find us?” Tseetsaa asked. She was pressed against Kachaark, whether for comfort or warmth, Cheeyt wasn’t sure.

“No.” Chesfi’s voice had them turning toward the Malk as she dragged one of her own their way. She dropped the mostly-grown kit in front of them. The kit sat up and eyed them as though daring them to remark on the not-regal way Chesfi had presented him. The kit looked more like a true cat than Chesfi did, with normal brown tabby coloring and green eyes. “The inn alerted my pounce when you didn’t return from your baths. They consider you honored guests.” She preened.

“Is that how you knew to come find us?” Nuliyaa asked.

That was a good question, one Cheeyt should have thought of herself. Their rescue had been too fast and too organized to have been arranged after Tseetsaa blew the first hole in the wall. Those two patrollers had barely been aware of what was going on.

“No. We had Malks following you.”

“You thought the poachers would go after us?” Cheeyt felt her worry ignite into fury. Miyt patted her arm.

“It was a possibility. You were a threat and we had suspicions that they were here.” Chesfi stared at Cheeyt, challenge in her gaze. Cheeyt blew out a breath and looked away.

“However, we recognize the difficulties we created for you by not warning you that the poachers may be in the area,” Chesfi continued.

“You used us as bait—that’s more than difficulty!” Cheeyt snapped.

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Chesfi, of course, kept talking like Cheeyt hadn’t said a word. “I also spoke on behalf of your company, telling my pounce of your accomplishments.”

Miyt made a sound. Cheeyt glared at her. Was she laughing? Was she sitting there, listening to this Malk, and trying to keep from laughing?

“We have decided to offer you a great honor.” Chesfi drew herself up and tilted her head toward the younger Malk. The younger Malk didn’t move. Chesfi turned and hissed at him. He sighed and stepped forward. “You may call this one Yarutkup,” she said. “He is my—what is your word—nephew and wishes to see more of the world outside of our pounce’s territory.” Here she lifted her lips a little to show her teeth. “Apparently, being allowed to visit the meeting house was not enough honor and adventure for him.”

Nuliyaa pushed to her feet. “We are honored to meet Yarutkup,” she said. She’d really learned during their travels. Her gestures, the way she was holding herself—everything was just right for interacting with Malks. Then Nuliyaa paused, watching Chesfi, who stared back at her.

“Ah!” Chesfi finally chuckled. “Meeting Yarutkup is not the honor.” She pushed him with her nose so that he walked closer to their group. “We are offering him as an apprentice.”

Cheeyt blinked. “What?”

“That is indeed a great honor,” Nuliyaa said gravely. She flicked a look at Cheeyt and she bristled. She was not leaving Nuliyaa to discuss this herself. She moved to her sister’s side. Yes, it was huge that the Nengmekian Malks were offering an apprentice to a Keeylish guarding company, especially considered what had just happened, but there was no way they were going to take him on—

“We are a bit small to be accepting apprentices—” Nuliyaa started and Cheeyt relaxed “—but if the types of jobs we usually take on are not a problem for you or Yarutkup, of course we accept.”

“Nuliyaa!” Cheeyt hissed. Her sister elbowed her.

“What are the jobs?” Yarutkup asked. Chesfi swiped at him. “I mean, thank you.”

“Yarutkup can serve as your guide for the remainder of the time you are here,” Chesfi said. There was more, but Singmij appeared from inside the store house at that moment and Cheeyt started walking before she realized she was moving.

Then she was standing right in front of her and Singmij was watching her, her expression going from concerned to amused as Cheeyt stared.

“You were right,” Cheeyt finally said. Wait. That wasn’t what she had wanted to say. She was going to ask how the investigation was going, if all of the captives were well, how long until they could leave.

“About your family?” Singmij asked after a beat.

“Yes.” Cheeyt sighed and rubbed her face. “They are more capable than I was willing to accept, and I should have started giving them at least some training back in Wumaltsmaas.”

“I’m sorry I pushed—” Singmij said.

Cheeyt shook her head. “Don’t say that because we both know you’d do it again. And you were right.”

Singmij smirked. “Well. Thank you.” But then she hesitated.

Cheeyt needed to push through this. “I overreacted,” she said. “And I took my fears out on you. I hope—I want—” She blew out a breath. “Can we start over? I am interested in you. I don’t want to have ruined this.”

Singmij grinned, then wrapped her arms around Cheeyt and stepped close. “I have no problem starting over with someone who is capable of apologies.” She squeezed, then backed away. “I have to give that report I was on my way to making earlier. I will come to the inn tomorrow?”

“That sounds great,” Cheeyt croaked, fighting down the heat spreading through her body. The way Singmij smelled, even covered in grime as they all were, the way she felt pressed against Cheeyt— She cleared her throat and let go.

Singmij grinned. “Tomorrow,” she whispered before turning and walking away.

Cheeyt looked back at her family and the Malks to find all of them watching her. Wonderful. Now she would have to deal with her sisters.