Spirit Walk_ Old Wounds (Book 1) - Christie Golden [63]
He looked back into the water, meeting her reflection’s eyes. “And he’ll come back.”
She snorted. “No, he won’t. Even if he wanted to, I doubt Father would let him.”
“Your father adores both of you, Sky. They’ll mend the rift one day. Chakotay will return. You’ll see.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugged. “I just do.”
And she believed him. Blue Water Boy did “just know” things. It was uncanny, sometimes, and was one reason he was not the most popular among the young men of his tribe. Or the young women; Sekaya never saw him pair off at any of the all-tribe dances. For that matter, neither did she; she, her brother, and Blue Water Boy would always hang around one another rather than socialize with the other young people. When the three of them were together, they knew that they were in the finest of company.
He reached inside the small pack he carried and withdrew his flute. He was hardly ever without the instrument. He held it in his hands for a moment, stroking the dark, polished wood reverently.
“When I learned Chakotay was leaving,” he said quietly, still staring raptly at the flute, “I wept for him too. But I wept with music, not tears. Do you want to hear it, Sekaya, during your nuanka?”
Her throat closed up so that words could not creep past the lump, so she merely nodded. Blue Water Boy made a song for everything—for the dawn in the morning, the hatching of eggs, a good hunt, a starlit night. The songs were always exquisite, and Sekaya both dreaded and feared the power of the music that would issue from the carved wooden instrument.
A breeze ruffled his dark hair as he brought the flute to his lips and began to play. Sekaya listened, the tears returning. Blue Water Boy had not been speaking metaphorically when he said that he wept with his music. The clear, haunting sound wrapped around Sekaya like a woven blanket, tears transformed into musical notes, and, heedless of how immature she would appear to her childhood friend, she wept while he played. How long they both sat and grieved, each in his or her own way, she didn’t know, but at last, she felt as though all her tears had been cried.
Blue Water Boy put away his flute and resumed staring quietly into the lake’s surface. Sekaya’s heart still ached for the loss of her brother’s presence, but now, somehow, she found that it beat a little faster. She continued to regard Blue Water Boy’s face in the water; it was always pleasant to look upon, but now it was handsome, a young man’s face. He, too, looked at her, and her breathing suddenly quickened. Abruptly, she was shy around this young man. And Sekaya was never shy.
She dragged her gaze away from the water and looked directly into Blue Water Boy’s eyes. She saw in them gentleness, wonder, and the same odd shyness she was feeling.
“Sky,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly.
She closed her eyes and leaned forward, giving the honor of her first kiss to this sweet boy she had loved all her life, who pressed his lips to hers with at first a kind of hesitant awe, then with increasing passion, not dreamy and distant from her, not anymore….
“Chakotay to Sekaya.”
Sekaya bolted awake, heart hammering. Where was she? She took in the room and realized that she had fallen asleep. Collecting herself, she tapped her combadge and replied, “Sekaya here. What is it, Chakotay?”
“We’re about to enter orbit around Loran II. Thought you’d want to be on the bridge when we drop out of warp.”
“I do indeed. I’m on my way.” She ran a quick brush through her hair, slipped on her shoes, deliberately banished thoughts of Blue Water Boy and their first kiss, and headed for the turbolift.
Chapter
17
BY THE TIME Sekaya reached the bridge, Fortier and Astall were already there. Fortier greeted Sekaya with a brief smile,