Book One – Chapter 19

So he had one bowl.

And everyone looked at him.

The common room looked at him as he entered. Conversations faltered, scattered and then crawled back together like a frightened herd of humans huddling after a flash of lightning. He saw Harrow first — quick hands, quick smile, that sort of social creature that did not bother with routines but fed on interruptions with glee. Clustered around her were Fallem, Branwen, Nion, Kal, and Ondahr. They all turned when Harrow raised her arm and waved him over.

Yu thought briefly of the borman, still upstairs. Of the krynn, still with the shaman and the selder. He should probably serve the new guests first. Then again, he did not want to serve the borman — or any borman, for that matter. If Tria had known of this, that Yu would end up serving a borman, she would not have sent him here. She would never have tolerated that her own shirrin would wait on a borman guest who, of all things, owned and brought a human. And oh, if she had been been told that Yu would have to live and work alongside a borman guard, not as a superior, not even as an equal, but as the new shit job guy, she would lose her shit. He was sure of that.

Yu forced the thoughts to stop, as he realised that he was just standing there with his wings folded around the bowl, staring at the fireplace people, who were all staring back. So he began to walk. He walked over to Harrow. There was no choice, not really, not when his indecision was confronted with her insistence. She beckoned him with that impatient, open cheer that made resistance feel absurd. It was very easy to just follow someone like this; Yu had noticed it before, on the trail. It was scary how simple it was to surrender the thinking to someone louder. But he must not fall back to that. He needed to stay in control, or at least look it. He needed to remember why he doubted her, and why he feared all of them. These people were not safe. So now, as he approached, Yu really looked to see what they were doing. His eyes flashed from one to the other, rushing past and returning, always, inevitably, to Harrow before anyone else could meet and hold them, but catching fragments all the same; registering postures, actions, and reach.