Kataya stood motionless, as if frozen by a curse, until she felt
Kalus' warm hands upon her shoulders. She brushed him aside angrily,
pulling forward. But this time he did not relent, listening to his
instincts instead. He grasped her by the arms and turned her towards
him, holding her firmly as she struggled.
'Cry,' he said. 'Just cry.'
For a moment her face showed bitter conflict, but she could deny herself
no longer. She leaned against his chest, sobbing in the uncomprehending
grief of one who has spared herself nothing, yet come to no reward. He
stroked her hair gently, much as he had seen the doctor do with
Sylviana. And though the two women were worlds apart in experience, and
seemed so cold to one another, in this singular female emotion of love
and loss, they were much the same.
'He'll be dead in two years,' she said finally, not leaving the
shelter of his body. 'He wants me, and I would dearly love to bear
his child..... If we could only mix our blood with theirs, through
interbreeding, maybe we could end the tragedy of sure death in
adolescence.
'But they will only mate in the North,' she continued, stepping
back and clearing her eyes with the back of her wrist. 'How.....
How can I reach him?' She could only repeat herself, an echo of
tragedy.
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