Twilight Crossing

Her entire body went hot. “I...”

After laying her hand on her chest, he let go and stepped back. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She caught her breath, glad he couldn’t actually read her mind. “Did you have any luck?” she asked.

“I found a good place for us deeper in the hills, with more trees and water nearby.”

“Can we get there before sundown?”

“If you’re up to it.”

“Let’s go,” she said.

“I’ll have to touch you, Jamie.”

Heat rushed into her face. “I...didn’t know what I was saying before. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You must have good reason.”

It had happened eighteen years ago, Jamie thought, and she should have been over it. To confuse Timon with him...

Irrational, she thought.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I’m all right.”

She was very careful not to cry out when Timon lifted her into the saddle. Timon watched her face with acute concern, but she thought she managed to fool him. He kept Lazarus at a walk, and even the horse seemed to understand what Timon was trying to do; Lazarus avoided rocks and furrows with precise footwork that amazed her.

They reached the new encampment by midafternoon. Timon carried her to a large oak and positioned her with her back to the trunk, almost as if he knew that she couldn’t bear another moment flat on her back. He arranged the remaining equipment nearby, unsaddled Lazarus and then offered her water. She was far thirstier than she remembered having been before and exhausted by the relatively brief ride.

But she said nothing of it. She was grateful when Timon checked her dressings and seemed satisfied. His lean and muscular body relaxed as if he felt more at ease in their new location.

“Tell me about your life in the Enclave,” he said.

Startled by the abrupt question, Jamie looked at him. His profile gave nothing away, but she knew he didn’t mean to make idle conversation. He was still looking for reasons for her strange behavior, and he wouldn’t give up unless she distracted him with other topics.

“What do you want to know?” she asked cautiously.

“About your childhood. Your parents. What you were like when you were younger. What you dreamed of doing and becoming.”

“My whole life story,” she said, trying to laugh. “Believe me—it isn’t very interesting. My mother was a biologist—a geneticist—and my father was a physician. They met while doing similar research at the Enclave Medical Center.”

“What kind of research?”

“They never really talked about it. I know they were both interested in recovering the lost pre-War treatments for diseases humanity once thought were wiped out.”

“And you carried on in their footsteps.”

“I grew up around scientists,” she said. “I only went to school until I was ten, and after that my father homeschooled me.”

“You didn’t have many friends.”

It was a statement rather than a question, and Jamie winced. “There weren’t many young people my age helping their parents in a lab,” she said.

“You were lonely.”

“I was too busy to be lonely,” she said, irritated at his presumption. “My parents didn’t deprive me of anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“But you had at least one friend. Greg Cahill.”

She wasn’t about to fall into that trap again. “My parents’ closest friends were my godfather and Greg’s parents,” she said. “He always had ambitions to go into politics, and he was very successful.”

“So it seems.” Timon shifted his weight. “How does he feel about the Conclave?”

“He supports it, of course!”

“And you’ve dedicated yourself to it, even though you’ve never had to deal with Opiri.”

“My parents advocated for a new peace for many years. My mother spoke of it often, and wrote about it in the journal she left me.”

“But you didn’t grow up with open war. At worst, Opiri and humans have lived in a state of cold war for most of your life.”

“The Citadels stopped claiming serfs from our Enclave five year ago.”

“And that’s why you think the Conclave can succeed.”

“I know that not all Opiri are barbarians.”

“In spite of your lack of experience?”

She wished she could stand up and pace away her anger. “Why are you asking these questions? Have we given you any reason to doubt our commitment?”

“I’d heard rumors that the San Francisco Enclave had reservations about this new effort.”

“That’s outrageous,” she said, far more calmly than she felt. “You supposedly have no interest in the outcome of the Conclave. Is this some part of your job, to test how devoted we are to the Conclave’s goals?”

His head came up sharply. “I only want to know more about you.”

The intensity of his gaze made her feel dizzy and uncertain. “I told you,” she said. “There isn’t much to tell.”

“I think you underestimate yourself,” Timon said. “What did you do when you weren’t in the lab? Did Greg take you out to dinner in one of your restaurants, or to walk by the Bay?”

Back to Greg again, she thought.

“You said you’d never been to San Francisco,” she said, changing the subject.

“I did my research.” He looked away. “Did you ever have fun, Jamie?”

“Of course I did. My parents were very cultured. My mother...” She swallowed. “Eileen saw the joy in everything, in every part of the world she saw in the lab or outside it. She died before my father, when I was still a child. He never told me how it happened, and he died when I was sixteen.”