Book One – Chapter 19

And with Yu and Tria, they always did. Wherever Tria went, she drew their eyes and heads, and by extension, they also fixed at Yu. And when they did, they did not let go. Of course, normal people recognised Tria and Yu as well — the tairan, the nepter, and the other fina. But their attention had social texture, the ordinary friction of common awareness. They looked out of admiration or at least acknowledgement for Tria as a political figure, and because Yu was weird and a cripple. Some recognised them with obvious gestures, others with words, others with but a curious glance. The bormen, however, were different. Their attention was a physical thing. They always gave Tria their collective and uninterrupted hostility until she was out of sight, and longer still. It was like being followed by a sound too low to hear but too heavy to ignore, a pressure that nested under the ribs and then bred fear. To Yu, their bodies spoke of nothing but aggression sharpened by patience, of stillness before slaughter.

He had told her so, repeatedly, because the threat was just so obvious and so absolute. But Tria had never taken him seriously. It is no secret they hate me. It does not take wizard senses to see that. She had always shrugged it off with words like that. Worse, she had dismissed Yu, harshly, as if his fear for her life were an insult. And she had meant it. Her body had boasted pride, composure and cold condescension. Sometimes, a flicker of concern. But never fear.

Yu had hated Tria for that composure, for how unshaken she seemed before things that terrified him. He had hated her in many regards, but at the same time, as contradictory as it was, he could not help but admire her for this defiance — for being the one person that stared back and dared the beasts to blink first.