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“Of course not.”

“Then how do you know?”

“Because I’m not stupid.”

“You cannot feel guilt for simply existing. What happened to her is not your fault. Surely she knew that, too.”

He just looked at her, unmoved.

Zara took a step toward him, reaching out to put a hand on his waist, and when he didn’t stop her, she embraced him. “I do not believe she thought less of you for being half Varai.”

His hand came to rest on her back. “That doesn’t change what I am,” he said. “No human girls dream of growing up and birthing gray children with glowing eyes and shadowy magic at their fingertips. I could never have been the child she wanted.”

“Do you think, when she pictured her future children, that she only thought of what they looked like and how the world saw them? Or, do you think she simply hoped for children who were kind and good? Do you not think it was enough for her that you are strong and generous and gentle, and that you cared for her as much as she did for you? Do you think she still found you lacking, despite all of that?”

Nero’s hand traced idly up and down her back as he thought. “I suppose she might not have,” he said.

“Perhaps she accepted you as you are. Perhaps she loved all of you, and she wanted you to love all parts of yourself, too.”

“Is that what your mothers told you?”

Zara paused. Was that how Avan and Kashava had felt about her?

“They did not… we never talked about it,” she stammered. She knew they loved her, of course. But obviously they hadn’t wanted a human daughter, either. They had cared for her in spite of her race, but they had never been glad for it. She had never been what they’d wanted. Had she? “It is different from your situation. I was not really their daughter.”

“But you call them your mothers.”

She didn’t know what to say.

“If my mother didn’t think less of me for being half Varai, then I don’t think yours thought less of you for being human,” Nero said.

“Maybe.”

“Zara…” He gently pushed her away to hold her at arm’s length. He looked down, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m grateful to have you here.”

“I am the one who should be grateful to you for bringing me here.”

His fingers danced nervously on her arms. “I don’t just mean now. I mean I am glad I met you. I’m glad to... be with you.” He grimaced a little. “Not that you’rewithme. I don’t know if you… I didn’t mean…” He shook his head. Zara began to smile. “I’m not used to being complimented.”

“Thank you, Nero.”

* * *

She gotto know the entire labyrinth of tunnels and caves quickly. And to her surprise, when she ran into the other Varai, they didn’t bother her. They soon grew accustomed to her presence among them, and some of them, like Crow and Devana, even seemed to like her. Nero was right—they were not at all like the other Varai she’d met. All of them had decided not to go back to Kuda Varai for one reason or another. They were outcasts, deserters, refugees, and former criminals. All of them were just people trying to carve out a living. Most of them had wandered alone before they had found community in each other.

Zara spent all her time with Nero. They spent the next few days on the move, hiking and riding through the mountains. He taught her how to ride, how to take care of Changa, and how to navigate without a map, and she taught him how to identify herbs she could use in alchemical mixtures.

She was riding in the saddle with him one evening when she saw tiny, pale flakes falling from the sky.

“Snow,” she said, fascinated. It rarely snowed in Kuda Varai, and when it did, she was rarely outside to see it.

Nero looked up. He made an annoyed sound. “I hate winter.”

“Why?”

“It’s cold.”

She peered at him slyly over her shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with the cold. It means you can huddle for warmth.”