IX
The Fires of Love“I mean, you’re a friend, of course.” There was no of course about it; her knowledge of friendship was small. “But this. This is different.” It was awkward, Iskra had learned, telling one friend about another.
“I know. It is different. You’re different. You’ll always be different, now. A thegis does that to you.” Tana’s own bonded companion, the dog Santra, lay contented at his feet.
“But, um, what is he?” she asked, stroking the little bundle of rusty fur curled rumbling in her lap. For such a small creature, he produced a great deal of sound.
“He’s a grass-bear, is what he is. Nothing to do with grass, nothing to do with bears. And he’s a traveler, too. They’re from up north, near the border. Almost a foreigner. Like you. Maybe came with the raiders we keep heari
