Tuya lurked inside the mouth of the dark place like a sharp tooth ready to bite and tear. Her spear her lone companion, she allowed herself and her dead branch, dead vines, and sharpened rock a moment of respite. Sweat soaked her hides and stuck them to her skin, her hair was coated in slickness, and her scent was like no flower she knew. Over and over, she relived the death of Semug and the motions of Yaha’s spear in her hands.

The tamer’s blood squirting from the hole in his neck, his wheezing, the dying gasp, the attempt to find a second life, and all the hatred and anger he felt. Even before his death, Tuya recalled how he kicked and shouted at the farawaylander woman who carried his seed, the pain of the neverborn, his hostility toward Masarga and Yaha, and on and on.

Tuya was glad he was dead. She was glad she killed him. She spent her day, trying not to think about where Yaha was and whether she was safe or whether she would do something reckless, trying not to be afraid of whether Darrakh could love her or whether she would be speechless if and when he came, trying not to worry that Gurgaldai would retaliate against her, and trying not to connect her fears together, to worry that Yaha was not back because of Gurgaldai.

No, by Celegana, by Norali, she spent her day thinking of how she would hold her ground and kill any tamer who got between her and freedom, and how she would feel no regret for the taking of a life that added nothing but pain to the lives of others. Semug was the first man she killed, and, now that she knew there would be no harmony with Gurgaldai, he would not be the last. Tuya and her spear would be ready.

She sensed a consciousness approaching the cave, one that did not have Yaha’s distinctive pulse. The mind reeked of fear and timidity, and yet it continued approaching a place where none came. Tuya clenched her spear and moved closer, crouching in the darkness where she could watch the cave mouth, ready to spring, ready to kill.

She loosened her grip when she saw him, yet would not relinquish her spear. Darrakh stepped into the cave, braving the darkness but not losing sight of the light at his back. “Tuya?”

His voice betrayed the anxiety Tuya already knew was there. Her own heart pounded in her chest, as her mind pulsed with worries. She did not feel like the brave warrior he slew an oppressive tamer. Tuya was a little girl lost in the ways of love, knowing only that tamers were hateful. Despite that knowing, she desperately wanted this boy to like her, wanted to believe he was different. His fear gave validation to her own, and though her mind was not at ease, she did not feel alone in being scared. For some reason, that made her less afraid, it allowed her to be brave rather than scamper deeper into the darkness. “Darrakh.”

The hairs on his arms stood tall, he shook like little leaves in a mighty wind, his voice cracked and sounded ill-suited to a tamer, a poor fit for a man trained to spend his days dominating beasts and women with no mercy. “You said to come. I am here.”

Each time her feet pattered closer to him, she questioned if she were going the wrong way. If not for the rationalization that she would need a tamer to collaborate with her, her desire to be loved may not have been enough to keep her moving toward him.

Darrakh startled when she reached out and touched his arm. He seemed so small, stepping back, thin-framed, not much further above the ground than her, with that wispy not-beard. Tuya had her spear, and thought she might be able to defend herself from him even without her weapon. Why then was he so terrifying? She could not think of what to say. All she could think of was that she said nothing and that she should have something to say if there was to be love between them.

Their eyes collided, and then drifted toward their feet. What could she say to him? A season of dreaming of this moment, of rehearsing words, and she had nothing. She wanted to hide, to run for the depths of her dark place, but was too afraid to. Her hand slipped off his arm, she clung to the spear for safety. Darrakh watched her hand and she felt his fear emanating of his consciousness.

Darrakh stammered. “Are you … are you going to hurt me?”

“Are you going to hurt me?”

Darrakh shook his head. “No.” He stepped back and wrapped his hands together, keeping his eyes low. Tuya thought he looked more like a khorota making herself small than a tamer. “I would rather die than hurt you, Tuya.”

“Because I am Gurgaldai’s Chosen?”

Darrakh shook, head and trunk, his voice grew stronger, more adamant. “Because you are the only good thing I see here and … and you make the Hollows a better place than I do.”

Tuya moved toward him, coming fully into the starlight at the edge of her dark place. “You are a tamer. How can you think a khorota is worth more than you?”

Darrakh took her hand, cradling it in both of his. Tuya jolted, sensing his sincerity, his care, his kindness, and most importantly, his love. “Because you are. I have done nothing, worse than nothing, and you do so much to help the others. I would rather die than hurt you, Tuya.”

Tuya thought of all the rebuttals that could deny him: But she killed Semug, but she killed Sarnai, but she failed so many times, but how could he, a tamer, believe the words he said. Yet, her hand in his, she knew that he told the truth. Darrakh believed what he said. He believed she was good and he would not hurt her. Tuya slid her spear across the craggy ground toward the path to her sanctuary. She would have no need of that now. She put both hands in his, kept her eyes on his, not looking away, suddenly feeling more brave than afraid, more excited than nervous, more hopeful than dreadful. This boy, this man, could love her, and she could love him.

“Come with me,” she said, pulling him into the cave.

“I will go into your dark.”

Tuya grinned, and at last words were her friend again. “I do not take you into the dark, Darrakh. Today, I show you the light.” Her eyes beamed a silver glow, shining ahead of her, allowing Darrakh to see what she saw. He gasped and she grinned, leading him by his hand into the dark place.

“Incredible,” he said. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. Tuya doubted she ever felt so giddy. She could see it now, a future of holding hands and smiling in the light they created within the darkness, two lost children of Isihla finding their way home to the place of sands in the faraway lands, leaving behind this hollow place that did not fit them or support the love they would grow.

Tuya showed him the mushrooms and the moss, the snakes slithering into the cracks in the wall, many-legged bugs that lurked in the dark and scurried from the light, the pretty rocks that gleamed in the light and could not be cut.

“Celegana blesses you, Tuya.”

Tuya turned to him, studying his cute face that echoed their faraway homeland, holding his green-grass eyes in her own. “These are the blessings of our other mother, Darrakh. People who look like us come from a land called Isihla, a land of sand where Mother Norali blesses her children with the ability to have eyes like little lightmakers that can see in darkness and create light wherever they shine. Someday, she might bless you too, as long as you keep trying to see light in the darkness.”

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“I can see the world like you?”

Tuya put her hands on his shoulders, stretched onto the tops of her toes, and brought her eyes closer to his. She could see it already, his cute face beaming with silver eyes, certain that would be their future. “Stay with me and you will see,” she said, the edges of her mouth rising.

He put his hands on her back and brought his face even closer, until they were almost touching. “I would like that.”

Tuya’s insides felt hot, a pleasant warmth like a cookfire in a cool cave in the season of new life. “Me too.” She closed the distance between them, putting her forehead to his, her nose to his, her eyes shining only on his. “I would like that very, very much.”

Darrakh pulled her body as close to his as he could. She felt his excited trembling, sensed the love flowing through his consciousness like good water. Like two rivers meeting, her love flowed strong, full of hope and happiness. Tuya thought not of the way tamers touched khorota, but of the love shared in faraway lands where two people bonded not over one conquering the other but by sharing of their lives, their hopes, and their bodies. She locked her arms around his back and pressed her lips to his.

He ran his fingers through her hair, tracing down her back, as his eyes, for once, did not dart away from hers. Their lips held together and for how weird of a sight they must have been, it felt right, it felt good to be joined at the mouth. They said nothing for a long time, caressing each other’s backs as they moved their mouths together. Tuya could not remember feeling so excited, so warm, so happy. This weird thing they did, so unlike anything she had ever seen, was good. Very good. Overwhelmingly good. When their mouths were not pressed together, they were smiling and laughing. It was the best form of unfamiliarity, smiling, laughing, embracing a tamer who did not want to tame her.

One hand on his face, she whispered in his ear, “I like this very much.”

He turned his head, mouth to her ear. “Very much? I like this very, very, very much.”

She snorted, and it felt like wild beasts were stampeding in her chest. “I love this.”

“Love?”

Of course, they did not teach love in the Spire. Tuya was eager to enlighten Darrakh. “Love is when you care about someone and would do what you can to make their pain smaller, to put the smile on their face, to help them be themselves.”

“Love,” Darrakh whispered. “Then I must love you because I would do all those things for you.”

Tuya lifted her head off his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “And I would do those things for you, Darrakh.”

He put his lips on hers. “Good. Like you.”

“And you,” Tuya said between mouth embraces. She took his hands and, with effort, separated from his plump lips. “How are you so good? I have seen memories of those raised to be tamers. How are you still … you?”

Darrakh set his eyes to the ground, his smile faded from his face. “I had a protector.”

“There are others like you?” Tuya could not fathom how a pocket of compassionate tamers existed in the Spire where brutality and cruelty were law, where little boys were attacked for any sign of kindness.

Darrakh’s frown deepened, looking as sorrowful as any she ever saw. “No. Khorij. She who fed me. She taught me to change myself to be what tamers wanted me to be, taught me which ones to bow to and which ones to bark at, who needed to be tamed and who needed to tame. She taught a boy who could not dominate with body or mind how to survive.” He lifted his eyes, tears gleaming in them and beginning to glide down his sandy brown cheeks. “She taught me to care, to see good in people like her, people like you, Tuya.”

“She taught you to love.”

Darrakh nodded, the tears coming faster than rain drops now, cascading from his sweet, green eyes. His face scrunched in sorrow and Tuya cried with him, not needing to hear the rest of his story to know where it headed.

“I…” Tuya put a finger over his mouth. Darrakh broke into sobs, threw his arms around her, and buried his head in her shoulder. He wept like no tamer she ever saw. Always sadness was turned to anger in the twisted heart of the tamer, yet Darrakh softened in her arms. He was who he was because of the rare fragment of love he was able to take from a place where hatred was law. She did not need to hear the rest to imagine what it was like for him to kill, or, probably, worse, this woman who loved him like a son and did everything she could not to let the tamer’s take away his ability to care about others.

Tuya wept for that brave woman and thanked her for the gift she gave the world. Still, she shook with rage. Tuya thought of the spear, of disemboweling and watching these monsters pay for their evil with a fraction of the pain they gave to others. “I will make them pay, I promise.” She pressed her lips into Darrakh’s cheek, kissing the falling tears. He held tighter to her, clinging to the hope she offered, savoring another person who chose to give him her love.

Tuya held Darrakh, her own memories swirling in her mind, ever drawing her closer to the people she cared about. She remembered what it was like when Makhun forced her to hit Sarnai, to kill her, and imagined what it would be like had it been Zaya, her protector instead. Tuya did not want to use her words to tell him that she understood, that she wanted to make his pain smaller. No, that was not the way. Tuya wanted to show him, not tell. She reached out to him with her consciousness, inviting him to link with her, to share minds and feel each other’s feelings, think each other’s thoughts. She wanted to remove every barrier between them, so that her love could make his pain smaller.

He repelled her.

Struck, as if by lightning, Tuya reached out again.

He repelled her.

Darrakh refused to look at her, keeping eyes closed, shaking his head. She sensed his sorrow, but rising above that was his fear. “I cannot.”

Tuya gripped his hands. “Let me in. I want to make your pain smaller.”

“I cannot.”

“Yes, you can. It will help me share my love with you, like she used to.”

He shook and shook, fear swallowing all sorrow. “I cannot.”

“Why?”

“The Great Ezen.”

Tuya tensed from head to toe. Eyes narrowing, brow furrowing, her hand squeezed Darrakh’s, anger flowing through her and pushing everything else aside except for hate. “Gurgaldai is not here. He cannot stop us from loving each other.”

“He is everywhere.”

Tuya shook her head, letting go of Darrakh. “Listen, Darrakh! I can see tamer consciousnesses with my eyes. He is not here. He will not know, so let me make your pain smaller.”

Tuya reached out with her mind again.

Darrakh repelled her. “He always knows. I cannot link with you, Tuya. I would rather die than hurt you.”

“Then why do you hurt me now?”

Darrakh put his head in his hands, his breathing went fast and he gasped for air. His anxiety blocked out Tuya’s mind sense. “Celegana preserve me!”

Tuya stifled a scream. She wanted to shove him, she clenched and unclenched her fists, so mad at him. Then it hit her that she was mad at Gurg, mad at the master tamer and the world he created, not mad at another one of his victims. “Celegana preserve us all,” she said, exhaling. She reached out to Darrakh and used her wilding to give him Celegana’s strength, much like she would a numbroot starved for nourishment.

Slowly, Darrakh’s breath steadied and his fears eased. The essence of their father’s mother, a shimmering brown to Tuya’s eyes, flowed from her to him. “It is okay,” she said. “I understand. I wish it were different, but I understand. You are trying to protect us both from him.”

“I am sorry, Tuya,” Darrakh whispered, guilt overtaking fear. He slid against the wall until he sat upon the rocky ground amidst the moss and mushrooms and pretty stones.

She sat beside him, placing her hand on his. “I don’t want to let go of you.”

He twisted toward her, opening his fingers so they intertwined with Tuya’s. “I will not let go of you.”

“Then hold on to me.”

Darrakh held her hand.