They walked companionably back to the lodge, threading their way through darkness to golden light. Around them, the night sounds of insects, small and large frogs, and crickets orchestrated a curtain of sound around them. The sounds meant that all was well: only a sudden cessation of them would speak of danger and small things gone into hiding. Soldier’s Boy and Likari both knew that; they were steeped in such knowledge, as comfortable as any animal in the forest that night. It bothered me that Soldier’s Boy could so seemingly put the threat to Likari out of his mind.

Thinking about it would not make the threat any less.

I felt that thought pushed at me from him and grudgingly accepted it. He didn’t like it that Orandula had threatened the boy. He was simply more capable of setting such a threat aside until a time when he could do something about it. All my worry had never solved anything.

They went to bed and the boy soon fell asleep against Soldier’s Boy’s back. It was not as chill tonight, but the mosquitoes hummed with an energy that promised rain before morning. The boy went right to sleep, but Soldier’s Boy lay still and silent. After a time, I sensed him sinking down into something that was not sleep. It was similar to a state I recalled from the days when my father had starved me. His body temperature dropped, his heartbeat slowed. I could feel something happening but I couldn’t tell what it was. After a few moments, stung by curiosity, I pushed at his dimmed awareness. “What are you doing?” I demanded.

His response was slow and guarded. “Storing magic.”

“You’re making yourself fat again.”

“That would be how you would see it. I would see it as marshaling my reserves. Wasn’t that a concept you learned in the Academy? To prepare your reserves so that you would be ready for any contingency?”

His response silenced me. I drew back from him. He didn’t care. He’d set a reaction into motion; I could feel every bit of the food he’d eaten today being stored away inside him. I had thought it would take him a long time to become fat again, but now I saw that he was willfully working toward that goal. I could feel the slackened folds of his flesh refilling. He’d sunk back into a stillness deeper than sleep, a state of complete rest that freed his body to concentrate on conserving all the food he had taken in.

His body. My body? No, at this point, it was definitely his body, functioning as he prompted it to do. I thought of using his suspension to try to slip away in a dream-walk. But I could not think of where I would go or what I would accomplish by doing it. If he ever became aware of my excursions, I feared he would find a way to cage me more firmly. So, regretfully, I decided that I would not waste my opportunities in casual walks. I would go out only when I had a destination and specific information to convey. The moment I decided that, I felt lonelier but I knew it was my wisest course of action.

Some time in the night, he passed into a true sleep, and I with him. In the morning, he rose again, refreshed and well pleased with himself. He ran his hands over his belly and thighs, rejoicing to find that the skin had tightened as it filled again. He had not been awake long before Likari came staggering and yawning from bed to join him. Soldier’s Boy ran a critical eye over the lad.

“You’re growing, so it is hard to put flesh on you. But today we will try. Come. Show me your fish stream.”

He followed the boy some distance from the lodge, to where a swift-flowing stream cut its way through the forest. The shady banks of the watercourse were steep. At first Soldier’s Boy could not see any fish; then his eyes adjusted, and he saw that there were plenty of them. Most of them hung finning in the water beneath the undercut banks of the stream.

Likari had dropped to his belly. Like a lizard, he wriggled up to the stream’s edge and lay there, being careful not to cast a shadow or make any sound that might alarm the fish below. Then, in a single movement, he thrust his arm into the stream, scooped it under a fish and flung it flopping onto the bank beside him. The creature looked to be the veteran of a long and difficult journey. His skin hung in tatters, and some predator had taken a bite out of his back. But he still flopped mightily and could have managed to throw himself back into the stream if Soldier’s Boy had not picked him up by the tail and slammed his head firmly against a nearby tree trunk. By the time that swiftly brutal execution had been done, there was another fish flopping on the bank. It received the same treatment as its fellow.

So the morning went, save for an interval when Soldier’s Boy left Likari to slay his own fish. He moved well back from the stream and gathered wood and twigs. He was stingy with the magic; it took him three tries before he called up a spark large enough to kindle the dry wood. Once it was going, he fed it until it was a useful size. Soon there were fish cooking over it.