The silkies didn't move as Timin crept down the side of the ledge with his spear. His throw was so sure, his kill so quick, that the ancestor didn’t bark a warning, and everything remained as it had been except for a blooming dark in the sand. As Timin began to butcher the creature, Kaye climbed down the ledge.

She watched him, learning what each part was used for. The skin made waterproof clothing, the fat oil for lamps. Abigail would be pleased that Kaye knew what everything was for, even if she didn't know how to make it.

They had no way to get all of the raw meat back to Gaerlom, so Timin made a fire—which did drive the other silkies away—and began to smoke it, roasting a portion over the flame for the two of them. While it cooked, they buried the other parts in the sand below the flames and walked between the water and the cliff walls, watching the tide go out in the moonlight. Kaye ran her fingers along the rock, until she came across something familiar and her heart leapt. She stopped to trace the pattern of a horse standing on a spear.

Timin stepped forward, the side of his body against hers, and traced the pattern with her. "Ian's Cove," he whispered. "Named for this mark. The spear is Ian, and this," he put his hand over hers and guided her fingers along the shallow cut, "is his clan. Ian of the horse clan."

Kaye shivered and pulled her hand away. "I know this mark," she whispered. "My ancestor Ian Odion founded the Seven Tribes of Aleda. This is his sacred symbol."

Timin looked at her. "That means you're Gaerlom." A smile grew on his face, but Kaye was not so optimistic. The stories said Ian came from the Faye-lands. But Gaerlom couldn't be the Faye-land—they hated the Faye. So why was the Odion's mark in Gaerlom? She must ask the High Priestess about this. She must go home.

"Tell me about Fie Eoin," Timin said when the meat was finished roasting. They sat on the beach and ate in the middle of the night.

Kaye swallowed her bite, which was not like anything she had ever tasted. It was fatty and fishy instead of meaty, but even the fishiness had a different quality to it. It wasn't bad, but she didn't like it much.

"It's one of the Seven Tribes of Aleda. The first tribe, the tribe of Ian." Her eyes travelled to the carving on the wall, too far away to see in the dark. "We keep the other tribes safe from the Obsidians."

"The other tribes don't help?"

"They can during battles, but they don't train as warriors. They make weapons and other supplies, or grow food, or learn the songs of our ancestors. Each tribe excels at one of these, and services are traded between them. The warriors also do a lot of big game hunting since they have the weapons, and the other men are busy."

Timin laughed. "How backwards. These Obsidians must harass you a lot if you need a whole tribe of men devoted to killing them."

"They don't as much as they used to. The Obsidian's won Deer Valley, and the High Priestess is trying to get it back through peaceful measures." Kaye looked to the ocean—she had ruined the peace that stood between the tribes, and then she ran.

"Peaceful measures like sacrifice?" Timin looked at her.

Kaye bit her lip and looked at the piece of silkie in her hand. It was a beautiful night with a bright, waxing moon, and still she could only think of fear and betrayal. “Why would you risk your life and tribe to protect me?”

“Because you’re a silkie.”

“You just killed a silkie.”

He was silent, staring at the ocean as if he expected to see something emerge from it. “Mountain…”

“No. It’s something else. You fear Mountain and you fear the Faye, but this isn’t fear. It’s the same thing I feel when I think of my mother and sister. Bereft.” She waited, but he didn’t reply. “Why is there a third cot in your hut?”

Moonlight shone off the tears in his eyes. “Cass. My brother. I was looking for something of his to wash up when I found you.”

“What happened to him?”

“The sea took him. I should have been paying better attention…” Timin stared at his hands and rubbed the scars of nets crossing his knuckles. “He was only twelve summers. It was his first hunt.”

Kaye put a hand on his shoulder. No wonder he wanted to save her. “I’m not your responsibility, Timin. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but it’s not your duty to keep me safe.”

“It is.” He looked at her, his eyes silver in the moonlight. “Awena led you to me, and me to you. She wanted me to find you, which makes you my responsibility. I won’t lose another person I’m responsible for. Not to the sea or the Obsidians.”

Kaye took a deep breath—that made Timin her responsibility too. She couldn’t let the Obsidians kill him or destroy his village, not because of her.