mother.”
“Very traditional,” I said. “Your mother must have been quite the Volstovic purist.”
“Call me Fan,” he countered, smiling, as though I’d said something particularly amusing. “Don’t see many from Thremedon around these parts, and taking these roads. Hope you don’t mind my coming up to say hello; just thought you looked like you could use some company. I know I could.”
“No,” I said, because even if I’d wanted to be alone with my thoughts, I couldn’t find much objectionable in his actions thus far. “I don’t mind at all.”
There followed a slightly awkward pause in the conversation, where he waited for me to give my name, then shrugged when I didn’t volunteer it. While I hadn’t grown up in the Airman, I’d still managed to cultivate a certain set of my own instincts, and any Mollyrat worth his teeth knew not to give his name to a complete stranger—even when he was polite enough to offer his first.
“So, you heading into desert country?” Fan asked, scratching his neck beneath his jaw. “I only ask because if you’re on this road, then that’s where you’re heading whether you meant to or not, and the desert isn’t particularly…
kind
to those of us who go in unprepared.”
I didn’t blame him for thinking I looked unprepared. I felt unprepared, and I
was
unprepared; my only shame was how obvious it was, even to complete strangers.
“I’m meeting a friend,” I said, fingering the edges of my travel journal.
“Never a better reason to go on a journey,” he said. I couldn’t quite make out his eyes, but his voice was filled with approval. “I’ll tell you something else, since you and I are in the same boat, so to speak—being men of the road and all—but it’s
my
opinion that it’s never been a better time to get out of Volstov. See the world a bit, come back when things are settled. You take my meaning?”
“That was the general idea,” I agreed, beginning to wonder just how long it could be taking Rook to scout the location and come back, and whether or not he was coming back at all.
To our left, a woman scurried into her tent and came out dragging a man I assumed must have been her husband. She seemed provincial, and I wondered what she was doing all the way out here. But then, it took all kinds. I was so absorbed in studying her particular style of dress that I caught—quite by accident—the tail end of her conversation.
“I’m
telling
you, it’s him!” she said anxiously. “And you wanted to sleep early tonight! Teach me to marry the likes of you. Come on!”
“But what’s an airman like
Rook
doing all the way out here?” her husband demanded, before they disappeared between two distant tents.
I followed them with my eyes, attention diverted from my sudden companion.
“Excuse me,” I said to Fan, and started after them.
“You don’t think they meant
the
Rook?” he asked, keeping step with me all of a sudden. I supposed it was another thing he’d picked up being on the road—a kind of friendliness that bordered on overbearing to people more used to the anonymity of city life. In Thremedon, his behavior would have been considered rather rude, but after some time on the road myself, I supposed I could understand the urge to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger. Hell, any more time with Rook in this temper, and I would likely be the one accosting strangers at random for a little conversation.
None of that mattered now. Rook was the center of a commotion, and I knew how he hated the sort of mindless attention that he garnered by being famous. Attention he caused was the sort he thrived on, but he had to be in control of it. The other set him snarling like a wild animal, and most people expecting a hero wouldn’t be prepared for my brother’s behavior when he felt cornered or trapped.
“I’m almost positive they do,” I said, since if other people already knew, then there was no point in lying. “I’m
“Very traditional,” I said. “Your mother must have been quite the Volstovic purist.”
“Call me Fan,” he countered, smiling, as though I’d said something particularly amusing. “Don’t see many from Thremedon around these parts, and taking these roads. Hope you don’t mind my coming up to say hello; just thought you looked like you could use some company. I know I could.”
“No,” I said, because even if I’d wanted to be alone with my thoughts, I couldn’t find much objectionable in his actions thus far. “I don’t mind at all.”
There followed a slightly awkward pause in the conversation, where he waited for me to give my name, then shrugged when I didn’t volunteer it. While I hadn’t grown up in the Airman, I’d still managed to cultivate a certain set of my own instincts, and any Mollyrat worth his teeth knew not to give his name to a complete stranger—even when he was polite enough to offer his first.
“So, you heading into desert country?” Fan asked, scratching his neck beneath his jaw. “I only ask because if you’re on this road, then that’s where you’re heading whether you meant to or not, and the desert isn’t particularly…
kind
to those of us who go in unprepared.”
I didn’t blame him for thinking I looked unprepared. I felt unprepared, and I
was
unprepared; my only shame was how obvious it was, even to complete strangers.
“I’m meeting a friend,” I said, fingering the edges of my travel journal.
“Never a better reason to go on a journey,” he said. I couldn’t quite make out his eyes, but his voice was filled with approval. “I’ll tell you something else, since you and I are in the same boat, so to speak—being men of the road and all—but it’s
my
opinion that it’s never been a better time to get out of Volstov. See the world a bit, come back when things are settled. You take my meaning?”
“That was the general idea,” I agreed, beginning to wonder just how long it could be taking Rook to scout the location and come back, and whether or not he was coming back at all.
To our left, a woman scurried into her tent and came out dragging a man I assumed must have been her husband. She seemed provincial, and I wondered what she was doing all the way out here. But then, it took all kinds. I was so absorbed in studying her particular style of dress that I caught—quite by accident—the tail end of her conversation.
“I’m
telling
you, it’s him!” she said anxiously. “And you wanted to sleep early tonight! Teach me to marry the likes of you. Come on!”
“But what’s an airman like
Rook
doing all the way out here?” her husband demanded, before they disappeared between two distant tents.
I followed them with my eyes, attention diverted from my sudden companion.
“Excuse me,” I said to Fan, and started after them.
“You don’t think they meant
the
Rook?” he asked, keeping step with me all of a sudden. I supposed it was another thing he’d picked up being on the road—a kind of friendliness that bordered on overbearing to people more used to the anonymity of city life. In Thremedon, his behavior would have been considered rather rude, but after some time on the road myself, I supposed I could understand the urge to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger. Hell, any more time with Rook in this temper, and I would likely be the one accosting strangers at random for a little conversation.
None of that mattered now. Rook was the center of a commotion, and I knew how he hated the sort of mindless attention that he garnered by being famous. Attention he caused was the sort he thrived on, but he had to be in control of it. The other set him snarling like a wild animal, and most people expecting a hero wouldn’t be prepared for my brother’s behavior when he felt cornered or trapped.
“I’m almost positive they do,” I said, since if other people already knew, then there was no point in lying. “I’m
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