Tarashana by Rachel Neumeier (little red riding hood ebook TXT) 📕

time to complete her task. It was the only way to save the Tarashana and the starlit country and push back the people of the sunless sea. I understand that. Everyone has taken the trouble to explain this to me, but I understood it already. No matter why you did it or what came of it, no matter what would have happened if you had not done it, the act was still unforgiveable.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know that. You don’t want me to apologize, I understand that, but what should I say?”

I glared at him. There were several things I had intended to say, but instead of any of those things, I demanded, “Why did you not put into my mind an understanding of what was happening and ask me to make the choice? Did you think it would be easier for me if you forced me?” I almost spat the word easier. Nothing could have been harder than making the choice at that moment in full awareness of what my choices must mean, but having the choice taken from me had been far worse than hard.

“Ryo, I couldn’t. Truly.” He rubbed his good hand across his face again, sighing. Then he dropped his hand to his knee and went on. “For a long time, you were too far away for me to do anything so complicated. Then suddenly you were close enough, but it was too late. A great deal was happening just then. Garoyo and Hokino had held for an astoundingly long time, but Garoyo had just fallen and I knew Hokino couldn’t hold long by himself. I was working with Inhejeriel, which was something else I’ve never done before. I couldn’t work with her and fight at the same time, and I couldn’t do either and also construct a false memory to show you what was happening. Even if I’d dropped everything else, even working as fast as I could, it still would have taken time for me to construct that kind of memory and longer for me to put it into your mind. That was ... it was the kind of situation where no one has even a breath to spare. And then Hokino fell, and it was too late even to think of trying to do anything of the kind.”

I nodded, acknowledging his explanation. I did not doubt that he spoke the truth, but it did not help very much to know how difficult his situation had been.

It did not help me at all to know that.

Aras sighed. He said, “I don’t—I can’t protest your anger, but you have absolutely no cause to feel shame for anything that happened. I know you know that; I know it doesn’t help for me to say it, but—” he broke off. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I can’t see your thoughts very clearly right now. I’m not certain what you want of me.”

“I want you to take your leash from my mind and my will.”

He was silent for a little while. Then he said, “You know I can’t do that. There’s no way for me to do it. I can release you from every oath you’ve taken to me, let you stay with your own people when—if—”

“When,” I said.

“When I return to the summer country, you certainly should not come with me,” he said. “Enough distance will render any tie—”

“Leash.”

“Any tie harmless.” He held up a hand when I began to speak. “I won’t use the taksu term, and I would greatly prefer you do not use it either, Ryo. I can’t break the tie. But enough distance will render the difference between broken and quiescent moot.”

“Not to me,” I told him. “You broke Lorellan’s leash to Hokino, to every Ugaro he made into his dogs and his slaves, by setting yours more deeply and strongly, then using your leash to break his. Could a Lakasha do that to yours? Could Tesmeket-an break your leash to me in that way?”

He sighed, but this time he did not protest my use of the taksu term. He frowned, considering my question. “Perhaps. I’m not certain. If she couldn’t, she would probably know someone who could. But that ... would that be better? I suppose you could be much more certain that no Lakasha would ever come to the winter country ...”

Of course he knew that had been my thought. Also, I would care less if one of the Lakasha-erra held that kind of leash. I would hate that, but if a Lakasha tightened that leash, it would not be so deep a betrayal. Also, if Tesmeket-an did such a thing, I would be able to bend all my effort toward killing her. She was a powerful sorcerer—all the Lakasha-erra were powerful sorcerers—but she did not know Ugaro at all. I thought I might be able to kill her. She was not a friend. I would not hesitate to kill her if I could, if she used her leash in any way.

His mouth had tightened, but Aras did not protest anything I was thinking. He said, “Certainly I would be willing to ask Tesmeket to do it. I’m sorry, but that does mean you will have to come back into the summer country with me after all. Farther into the summer country than you’ve come before; Tesmeket very rarely ventures farther north than Avaras. I’ll have to write to Soretes, request permission to leave the borderlands ... never mind. That doesn’t matter now.” He paused, looking down. Then he went on, not raising his gaze from the earth. “I could send you south with Geras and Suyet. I could travel separately, keep enough distance between us that you wouldn’t have to feel any concern—”

“Aras,” I said. He stopped, his gaze coming up again, and I said, “I am very angry. But I am not afraid of you. I want your leash broken