Nirrin (Forestfolk, Book 3)

Chapter 19b

I couldn't believe them. They were Kibi's parents. How could they blame her like that? She was eight, for pity's sake! Her only fault was existing.

My hand itched again to slap them, and the pressure of Meresh's hand still pushing against my back suddenly irritated me. I twisted away and batted at it.

He gave me a questioning look.

My body tensed to . . . I don't know, do something. Was I really thinking about slapping the chieftain of the Zurbo tribe?

"I'm sorry." I took a step back. "I need to clear my head." With that, I stomped toward the river in a huff.

Why was I so livid? These weren't my people, and I'd heard about idiotic Plainsmen my whole life. So why was this affecting me so much?

I'd expected a happy reunion. Mother and father, lovingly embracing their long-lost child. I'd dreamed about it my whole life.

Wait, I was angry at Kibi's parents, not mine, right?

"Nirrin, slow down." Fen caught up to me and laid a hand on my shoulder.

I whirled to face him. "I never got to hug my parents."

"W-what?" Confused, he dropped his hands to his sides.

I ignored the bewilderment in his eyes. "Niralessa's kept me at arm's length. Corin was nice enough, though. I think we would've gotten around to the hugging part, if—" My heart clenched at the reminder that it was impossible now.

Sensing my distress, Fen pulled me into a hug. I squeezed him hard.

When I finally eased my grip a little, I mumbled into his neck, "We still need to warn these people about my crazy mother."

"Do we have to?" Fen murmured.

I pulled back to look at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"If there's no organized resistance, fewer of my people will get hurt."

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, unwilling to believe that Fen would even consider this.

"Wouldn't that be a good thing?" he pressed.

My eyes popped open. "Fen, she was talking about exterminating this tribe! Granted, some of them could use a good butt-kicking, but do these people look evil to you?" I gestured to where a man was swinging his squealing little son around, while a woman nursing a baby watched with a warm smile on her face. "Do they deserve to die for something they had no part in?"

Fen observed them, his jaw flexing while he thought. I could see the conflict on his face. Once again, loyalty to his family was at odds with his own beliefs.

His tense shoulders suddenly drooped. "No," he said with a sigh. "It wouldn't be right." He contemplated his feet for a moment before looking back at me. "We can't let that happen."

I wrapped him in a quick hug. "I knew you were a good man! Now, let's go tell Meresh."

I took exactly two steps toward the compound before Fen grabbed my wrist.

"And tell him what, exactly?" Reluctance swirled in his eyes. "What can we say that won't turn them against us?"

"What do you mean? We just—" My mind leapt ahead to how that conversation might go. I know it isn't your fault that a little girl got kidnapped, but due to an unfortunate sequence of events, those kidnappers are now coming over here to kill you all. Oh, and they're Fen's and Tessia's family.

I frowned and grumbled, "Okay, I see your point." I sighed impatiently and began to pace. "Let's consider our options. One, we convince Niralessa to stand down."

"I don't know if that's possible."

I stopped pacing. "Why not?"

"Corin was the only one able to talk her out of some of her more rash ideas."

"Why can't you?"

He shook his head. "She thinks I'm too soft."

"Soft?" The idea sounded preposterous given his armored skin.

"She once said I was tough as tree bark on the outside, but softer than rotting fruit on the inside." His mouth twisted at the memory.

I realized right then that's what I liked best about him. "I like your gooey, rotting-fruit center."

He smiled at me, then shook it off his face, as if remembering the serious matter at hand. "Option two?"

"Option two . . ." I resumed pacing. "Option two . . . we tell everyone here to hide?"

"Ha!" He noticed the expression on my face. "Oh, you're serious?"

I looked around at the flat plains and lack of hiding places. My mouth pursed to the side. "Okay, not the best idea."

"How about—"

"Ooh, I know! We move the tribe somewhere else!"

"How is that different from hiding?"

"Oh. Well you come up with something, then!"

"I would if you'd let me speak."

I crossed my arms and tilted my head, unamused.

"Why don't we just go tell the chieftain and let him decide what to do?"

It made infuriating sense. "Fine," I huffed, uncrossing my arms.

There went my Nirrin-saves-the-day dreams.

Maybe she can still achieve those dreams? We all know she's capable of it. Throw her a vote while she figures it out.