Twilight Crossing

“I’m sorry. It must have been difficult to lose both your parents when you were young.”

“And you...did you have a family, Timon?”

“I was born in freedom, outside the Citadel,” he said. “My mother also died when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry. Is your father—”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “He and his second wife are still living.”

“But you’re not close to them.”

“I’m a Rider. We put those relationships behind us when we join the Brotherhood.”

“You ever see them?”

“Not in fifteen years.”

She touched his hand. “When did you join the Riders, Timon?”

“I was seventeen.” He slid his hand out from under hers. “It’s not a very interesting story.”

So he didn’t want to talk about his past, Jamie thought. “Did you run away?”

“I was very young,” he said.

Had something his parents done driven him away? Jamie wondered. Something trifling and foolish he’d never admit to? Or had it been a matter of youthful rebellion, the kind she’d never experienced?

Had he had a choice to keep his family, when she’d been robbed of hers?

“Your whole life is the Riders now,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Your freedom is very important to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But we have our duties. Our leaders choose our assignments.”

“And how do you choose your leaders? Do you fight for your positions, like the Opiri of the Citadels do?”

“We don’t fight amongst ourselves,” he said, flashing her a reproachful look. “It’s a matter of consensus. Except in times of emergency, we hold elections. The highest-ranked Rider is called the captain. He arranges our hiring and holds ultimate authority over us.”

“You’re the leader of a band. Have you ever wanted to be more?”

“I wouldn’t want the responsibility.”

Jamie realized that he was being completely honest. He liked his life simple, uncomplicated by binding relationships or the desire to control others.

“Tell me more about your people,” she urged. “I already know you serve whoever hires you, regardless of their politics or race. What happens if—”

Moving as quickly and effortlessly as always, Timon got to his feet. “If you’re all right,” he said, “I have another thing to take care of. It might require a little more time, if you think you can stay alone for a while.”

“What is it?” she asked, sucking in her breath as she pushed herself a little more upright against the tree trunk.

“Horses. Lazarus can’t carry us both for long stretches of time, so we’ll need another mount.”

“You plan to go back to the tribesmen?” she asked in alarm.

“No. I saw a small herd of horses not far from here. I’ll bring one of them in.”

“A wild horse?”

“I suspect they escaped from captivity not too long ago.”

“And you think you can tame one well enough for me to ride it?”

“You’ll be on Lazarus—when you’re ready to ride.” He went to saddle the horse and returned to her. “If I can’t get one by sunset, I’ll return.”

Jamie gave no sign that she wished he would stay. Timon knew what had to be done, and she wouldn’t be any more of a burden on him than she had to be. If she didn’t want him to “heal” her with his bite, she had to do everything else possible to make sure they could move on a soon as possible.

She only wished her leg wasn’t hurting quite so much.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” he said, peering into her face.

“I’ll just sleep,” she said with a smile. “Good luck.”

He accepted her reassurance with a brief nod. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Soon” proved to be much longer than Jamie had hoped. As the minutes passed, she began to feel warmer, and her leg continued to grow more painful. When she touched the bandage, it felt warm, as well.

An infection, she thought. That was no surprise, even with the antibiotics. The drugs hadn’t really had enough time to work. Undoubtedly the fever and pain would pass in good time.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Sometime later, she woke herself with shivering and pulled the blanket higher up to her chin. She drank from the canteen Timon had left for her and tried to go back to sleep.

The next time, she found herself in darkness. The steady clop of hooves approached from the north.

Timon, she thought, lost in a fog. The rider dismounted, and she heard him kneel beside her. A cool hand touched her forehead and then her bandages.

Jamie screamed.

Chapter 9 (#ulink_2f39b37b-a0f6-575a-a49a-ef055130765d)

“Jamie, can you hear me?” Timon asked.

She tried to turn her head toward him, gasped and whimpered like a child. Timon couldn’t tell if she could see him, let alone hear him; her eyes were blank, and the tremors racking her body made it impossible for him to keep her still.

You’re delirious,” he said, cupping his palm over her burning forehead. “Jamie, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling worse?”

She blinked, tears leaking from her eyes. For a moment they focused on his.