What does it mean? Aina lifted her eyes to his. "The man who opens the trap." Ran said nothing. Outside. The wind moved through the pines in one long breath.
Then the forest went still. On the morning of the eighth day, Aina finally tested the ankle. She stood, put her weight on it, then walked from one end of the cabin to the other. She turned and came back. It still hurt.
Ran could see that in the tightness of her jaw, but the ankle held. Aina rolled her belongings into a tight bundle. Then she checked the string on her bow. Ran had already prepared a pack horse. He chose a gentle horse from his small string, one with an easy gait that would not jar a rider with an injured leg.
He also packed enough dried venison, corn, and salt to see her through the two-day journey north without having to go hungry. Aina stepped into the yard beneath the pale morning light. She stopped when she saw everything waiting. Her eyes moved to the horse, then to the food, then to Ran. He pointed toward the ridge.
"Ride up through the timber until you reach the forest crest," he said. Then drop down toward the northern canyon country. Your people should be somewhere beyond there. Ran had studied the map carefully. He had done the best he could with everything the two of them had managed to understand about one another during those 12 days.
I know where my people are, Aina said. Ran gave the smallest nod. Of course you do. She secured her bundle to the horse and placed one foot in the stirrup. Then she stopped.
Aina reached into the rolled blanket tied behind the saddle and pulled out something small. It was a flat piece of worked leather no larger than Ran's palm, carefully stitched with a delicate geometric design in red and blue thread. He stared at it. The piece must have taken hours to finish. Ran had no idea when she had made it.
Then he remembered the afternoons when he had been outside repairing fence or tending the horses while Aina stayed near the fire. Perhaps she had worked on it then. Aina held it out to him. Ran accepted it carefully. He turned the leather between his fingers, studying the fine stitching and the precision of the pattern.