Children of the Dawn by Patricia Rowe Page A

be
fair
?”
    Tsilka swallowed bitterness.
    “He’s the father of my children. He belongs to me!”
    Not having Tor was like a hand around her throat, squeezing; like a punch in the chest every time she breathed. Standing in
     the lonely wind above Teahra Village, she thought about ways to get her man.
    Could she do something to make the Shahala and their chief leave, while making Tor stay? Then it would be just like before.
     Tsilka, the twins, the Tlikit people, and Tor—a free man this time—living by the Great River. Tsilka laughed at herself. After
     all Ashan had done to get here, she wasn’t going to leave.
    Just as wild: the idea of getting Tor to take Tsilka and the twins away to live by themselves. Ashan had Tor under a spell
     that made him forget he’d ever loved Tsilka. Someday, after seasons of seducing, he might leave Ashan for the better woman.
     But no time soon. And would he ever leave his son? Of course, he’d left them before, long ago—that’s how Tsilka had come to
     have him.
    What would happen if Ashan found out that Tor had been Tsilka’s mate for a time, and was the father of her children? Ashan
     might banish him. Or forgive him. Or kill him. But Tor had promised he would kill Tsilka if she ever told, and she believed
     him.
    Maybe she should kill Ashan. That would solve everything.
    Danger pricked her skin. A Moonkeeper’s magic was deadly, if Tor could be believed. Tsilka had doubts about this magic that
     no one had yet seen, but there must be some reasonthe Shahala did what Ashan said. It was unwise to think of killing her rival until she understood her powers.
    Tsilka would do anything to possess Tor… but what? She felt as if she were trapped inside a tunnel with a flapping, shrieking
     condor, as if there were a weapon on the ground, but she couldn’t find it in the dark, and she had to fight an overwhelming
     urge to roll up in a ball and cry.
    If she didn’t
do something,
she’d go crazy. But nothing she could do would make Tor hers; any move against Ashan would be the cause of her own death.
     She would have to hold all this inside, and wait. Oh, how she hated to wait! But while she waited…
    “I promise myself,” she said, making it true with a blow of her fist to her chest. “I will do all I can to make her life as
     miserable as mine. Somehow, without putting myself in danger. And always, I will be thinking, watching, waiting for the moment
     when I can explode like a tree struck by lightning, and take her down.”
    Focused rage was better than scattered rage. Tsilka felt better as she thought about how to make Ashan unhappy by getting
     in the way of what she wanted.
    Ashan spent most of her time among people, telling stories, teaching words, talking about whatever they wanted to talk about.
    Poor Tor,
Tsilka thought.
How neglected he must feel.
    It seemed that Ashan wanted more than anything for people to get along, to like each other, to be friends.
    “I will be the horse thistle spreading my seeds over new grassland,” Tsilka vowed. “No—I will be the
wind,
blowing the thistle seeds—invisible. Ashan will never know from where the enemy comes, and will not look too hard. With luck,
     she won’t know there
is
an enemy.
    “Because I have already found her weakness. The great chief of the Shahala tribe sees only what she wants to see. She lies
     to herself and does not know it. So great is her arrogance, she believes things are true just because she wants them to be.
     That is how I will bring her down.”
    Tsilka went along with the rest of her people, as they went along with the Creator’s Plan—as Tor called it. Meaning that everyone
     went along with Ashan. Tsilka pretended to acceptit. She hated the leather skirt Ashan had given her, but she wore it—with the split front where the back should be, so her
     naked bottom still showed when she bent over. Except for that, she did nothing to make Ashan or Tor notice her.
    Tsilka dug through her tribe like a