Snake stood looking out over the dark valley. She did not feel like going to sleep yet. That was one of the things she did not much like about her proving year: most of the time, she went to bed alone. Too many people in the places she had gone knew about healers by reputation only, and were afraid of her. Even Arevin feared her at the beginning, and by the time his fear ebbed, and their mutual respect changed to attraction, Snake had to leave. They had no chance together.
She leaned her forehead against the cool glass.
When Snake first crossed the desert, it was to explore, to see the places healers had not visited in decades or that they had never visited before. She had been presumptuous, perhaps, or even foolish, to do what her teachers no longer did and no longer considered doing. There were not even enough healers for the people on this side of the desert. If Snake succeeded on her visit to the city, all that might change. But Jesse’s name was the only difference between Snake and any other healer to ask Center for knowledge. If she failed—Her teachers were good people, tolerant of differences and eccentricities, but how they would react to the errors Snake had made, she did not know.
The knock at her door came as a relief, for it interrupted her thoughts.
“Come in.”
Gabriel entered, and she was struck once more by his beauty.
“Brian tells me my father’s doing well.”
“Well enough.”
“Thank you for helping him. I know he can be difficult.‘’ He hesitated, glanced around, shrugged. ”Well… I just came in to see if there’s anything I can do for you.“
Despite his preoccupation, he seemed gentle and pleasant, qualities that attracted Snake as much as his physical beauty. And she was lonely. She decided to accept his well-mannered offer.
“Yes,” she said. “Thanks.” She stopped before him, touched his cheek, took his hand and led him toward a couch. A flask of wine and some glasses stood on a low table near the window.
Snake realized that Gabriel was blushing scarlet.
If she did not know all the desert customs, she knew those of the mountains: she had not overstepped her privileges as a guest, and he
“Gabriel, what’s the matter?”
“I… I misspoke myself. I didn’t mean—If you like I can send someone to you—”
She frowned. “If ‘someone’ was all I wanted I could have hired them from town. I wanted someone I like.”
He gazed at her, with a quick faint grateful smile. Perhaps he had decided to stop repressing his beard and grow it out at the same time he decided to leave his father’s house, for his cheeks showed a trace of fine red-gold hair.
“Thank you for that,” he said.
She guided him to the couch, made him sit down, and sat beside him. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. His hair fell across his forehead, half hiding his eyes.
“Gabriel, have you somehow not noticed that you are beautiful?”
“No.” He managed a rueful grin. “I know that.”
“Do I have to pry this out of you? Is it me? Gods know I can’t match the looks of Mountainside people. Or if you prefer men, I understand.” She had not hit on what made him draw away from her yet; he had not reacted to anything she had suggested. “Are you ill? I’m the first person you should tell!”
“I’m not ill,” he said softly, not meeting her gaze. “And it isn’t you. I mean, if I had my choice of anyone… I’m honored you think this much of me.”
Snake waited for him to continue.
“It wouldn’t be fair to you, if I stayed. I might—”
When he stopped again, Snake said, “This is the trouble between you and your father. This is why you’re going away.”
Gabriel nodded. “And he’s right to want me to go.”
“Because you haven’t lived up to his expectations?” Snake shook her head. “Punishment is no help. It’s stupid and self-gratifying. Come to bed with me, Gabriel. I won’t make any demands on you.”
“You don’t understand,” Gabriel said miserably. He took her hand and lifted it to his face, rubbing her fingertips across the fine soft stubble. “I can’t keep my side of the agreement lovers make between them. I don’t know why. I had a good teacher. But biocontrol is all beyond my reach. I’ve tried. Gods, I’ve tried.” His blue eyes were bright. He let his hand fall away from hers, to his side. Snake caressed his cheek once more and put her arm around his shoulders, hiding her surprise. Impotence she could comprehend, but lack of control—! She did not know what to say to him, and he had more to tell her, something he desperately wanted to talk about: she could feel that from the stark tension of his whole body. His fists were clenched. She did not want to push him; he had been hurt enough that way already. She found herself searching for gentle and roundabout ways of saying things she would ordinarily deal with straightforwardly.
“It’s all right,” Snake said. “I understand what you’re saying. Be easy. With me it doesn’t matter.”