Quilla placed the ulu down and breathed heavily. It was bitterly cold out, but she was sweating profusely, and she needed a break. There was only so much skinning she could handle at a time as she wasn’t used to so much physical labour.

  The people here were friendly and kind, but they required payment for their kindness. It made sense. She, Annai, and Vern were eating these people’s food, sharing their homes, even wearing their clothes. It was only fair to pay for their keep. But it was tiring work—mostly skinning animals and helping to prepare food. Early on, Quilla had tried to help with clothing making and repair, as she’d assumed she’d be best at that. However, she was terrible. She simply had no idea how to deal with the animal skins the In’ukt people used for clothing. After a couple days of that, they’d asked her to change to something simpler. So she’d ended up skinning seals. Simpler, she supposed, yes. But also exhausting and messy.

  At least the clothes were warm—far warmer than the clothes they’d been wearing when they arrived. The In’ukt had happily given her a caribou-skin parka, seal-skin boots, and mittens. She could actually wander around outside, even at night, and barely feel the cold.

  Ookpik, one of the older, more senior women in the village, and in whose house Quilla, Vern, and Annai were staying, looked up from her own work chopping meat for food. “Finished?”

  “Just taking a break. It’s tiring.”

  Ookpik chuckled. “Everything is tiring for you. You’ve led such a pampered life.”

  Quilla rolled her eyes. She wanted to say, no, she hadn’t. She’d had all kinds of struggles and difficulties in her life; she’d just led a different kind of life. But in some ways, Ookpik was right. After meeting Garet, she had led something of a pampered life. Plus, when Ookpik said “you”, she was referring to Annai as well. Even when Annai and Vern weren’t around, Ookpik always talked about the three of them as if they were one person. And Annai definitely had led a pampered life.

  Surprisingly, Annai had acclimated to this new life relatively well. She had done very little of her usual complaining, and what little she did had dried up after the first couple days. Annai had actually handled clothes-making far better than Quilla, and now spent her days doing that and gossiping with other young women in the village.

  Quilla sighed. Why was she always the one who had a hard time fitting in anywhere?

  “What’s got you bothered now?” Ookpik said.

  “Oh, sorry,” Quilla said. “Just lost in thought. I’m going to go for a walk.”

  Ookpik shrugged. “Suit yourself, though don’t be too long. Make sure to close the door behind you.”

  Quilla nodded and headed out of the barn. As asked, she made certain to close the door. Ookpik hadn’t said that because she actually believed Quilla would leave the door open in this cold. It was just that the door’s latch didn’t always work perfectly, and it was easy to think it was closed when it wasn’t. Quilla made sure it was really closed before heading out in the dark of the evening.

  The wind was bitterly cold, but as soon as she did her parka up and put on her mittens, she barely felt it, except by her eyes, which were the only exposed parts of her. It was otherwise a beautiful night. The sky was clear and the stars shone brightly. The moon hadn’t risen yet, making even more stars visible than there would otherwise be.

  She followed the path northwest of the village. She shouldn’t go far, but a little ways would be okay.

  The first few days here, she’d lived in terror that they would be found and handed over to the Volgs again. But as the days went by, and they remained undiscovered, she had started to relax. Maybe it was that terror that had made her so bad at making clothing. It was a comforting thought, but alas, it wasn’t true.

  Relaxing had made her more resistant to getting the tattoo, though. Vern had remained true to her word and had not pushed Quilla about getting it, which Quilla was glad of. She would have to get it eventually, but if she could put if off a little longer, she could pretend she was free of all her troubles. Even if it was only a few more days, she would take it.

  She walked for maybe a mile or so before turning around and heading back. A part of her wondered what would happen if she just kept going. Maybe that way, she could truly escape all her problems once and for all. There would be other villages eventually. She could get their help in hiding from Vern or any Darkers who came looking for her.

  But eventually, Volgs would come looking for her. She didn’t want to put other people in danger that way. It was bad enough she was doing that where they were right now.

  Plus, she couldn’t leave Annai. That would be cruel.

  So she headed back to the village.

  As she neared the edge of the village, there was a figure standing in the road up ahead. Even bundled up in a parka, it was still possible to recognise Vern’s figure. She was taller than almost everyone in the village. There were only two people taller than Vern—Annai and one of the village men—and both of those were wider and stockier than Vern.

  “You really shouldn’t wander off on your own,” Vern said, falling in beside her as she walked.

  “I didn’t go far.”

  “It’s still dangerous. Don’t get too comfortable just because we haven’t been caught yet. They’re still looking for us.”

  “I know. I just needed some space, okay?”

  “I get it,” Vern said. “I need space sometimes too.”

  “You get to go out hunting every day. Isn’t that enough space?”

  Vern laughed. “Only sometimes. But I worry, all right? If we were bonded, I’d sense when you were in trouble, but as it is, I have no idea if you’re okay if I can’t see you.”

  Quilla glared at her, though she couldn’t be sure Vern noticed. The thick hoods of the parkas gave a limited field of vision.

  Whether she noticed or not, Vern said, “Sorry, shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

  “It’s all right,” Quilla said with a sigh. “Look, I know I’ve been putting it off. How about we talk about it later?”

  “Really? How about we get a bite to eat and talk about it now?”

  “I still have work to finish.”

  Vern moved to block her as Quilla started up the path to Ookpik’s barn. “Actually, you don’t. I already talked to Ookpik when I was looking for you. I got her to let you off early tonight.”

  Quilla stopped. Well, she’d walked right into that. They needed to talk about it anyway, so she nodded and turned instead towards the house.

  Ookpik’s house was not large, with only a few rooms. Quilla, Vern, and Annai were using the main room as their living quarters. But it meant they didn’t really have any privacy. Ookpik frequently passed through it and still used it as a place to sit, relax, and even nap.

  By the time Quilla and Vern had gotten their parkas and boots off, and gotten a bit of food from the kitchen, Ookpik was already lounging in one of the only two chairs in the living area. That was going to make talking about the tattoo difficult—they couldn’t actually give away that Vern was a Darker and Quilla was thinking about getting a Darker tattoo. That would not be easy to explain in a way that didn’t get them driven out of the village or worse.

  “We could always go back outside,” Vern said quietly.

  Quilla shook her head. They had just removed all their heavy clothing. She didn’t want to put all that back on. She wanted to enjoy the warmth from the fire instead.

  “Yeah, she’ll doze off soon enough, I suppose,” Vern said.

  Quilla took the remaining chair, but pulled it closer to the fire. Vern sat on the floor. As they ate—a local food called muktuk made from whale blubber—Quilla said, “How was hunting today?”

  Vern shrugged. “Eh, it was fine.”

  “That’s it? Fine?” It was Vern’s usual answer, but Quilla liked to probe for a bit more.

  “I could go through the finer details if you really want,” Vern said, “but do you really want explicit descriptions of how we kill animals?”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “I suppose not.”

  “There you go. It was fine.”

  “You don’t like talking much, do you?” Quilla said.

  “I love talking, as long as it’s about the right things.”

  “I mean about yourself.”

  Vern barked a laugh. “If you want my life story, there’s not much to tell.”

  “Then tell me what there is. You know mine.”

  Vern rolled her eyes and stuffed her face, spending the next few moments chewing.

  “If you don’t want to—”

  Vern held up a finger and made a sort of “nn nn” noise through her full mouth. She held her finger up for several seconds while she finished chewing. “I’ll answer. I just needed a moment to finish chewing.”

  “I’m pretty sure you started chewing to delay answering.”

  “Nonsense. Now let’s see. My life story. I have a mother, father, older sister. Haven’t seen any of them in a long time. My father was a very demanding individual. My sister failed to live up to his expectations, so it fell to me. I hope he knows I’m doing the best I can, and I’m trying to fix things.”

  “What things?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said you’re trying to fix things. What are you trying to fix?”

  Vern shrugged. “Just things.” She stuffed more muktuk in her mouth.

  “So where are they? Your family, I mean.”

  Vern used chewing to delay her response again. “Far from here. Really far.”

  “All right, fine,” Quilla said. “I’ll stop pushing.”

  “There’s really not much to tell.”

  “Nonsense,” Ookpik said, looking up from where she’d been dozing. “You’re avoiding her questions. Do so if you must, but be honest about it.”

  Vern shot Ookpik a glance. “Fine. There are some things I don’t like talking about, but I’ll say this. I have no idea where my sister is. She took off years ago. Broke our mother’s heart, destroyed our father’s career, and ruined all our lives. That’s what I’m trying to fix. That’s all you get.”

  It was honestly more than Quilla had expected.

  They ate in silence for a while, until a blast of cold air accompanied the door opening, and Annai entered. She quickly pushed the door closed to keep as much heat in, and then began removing her parka. “What a day! Imiq and Koko were a little hungover. They’d had a little celebration—”

  “Koko drinks too much,” Ookpik interrupted. “And she’s a bad influence on Imiq.”

  “But Imiq’s sister is pregnant with her first child,” Annai said.

  “A reason for Imiq’s sister to be happy and for Imiq to make some baby clothes.”

  “But she wanted to celebrate.”

  “No, she didn’t. Koko wanted to celebrate and she used Imiq’s sister as an excuse to include Imiq in it.”

  Annai sighed and hung up her parka. “Well, Imiq was a little hungover and not used to it, so Koko and I—”

  “You were supposed to be working, not gossiping and playing games.”

  Annai sat on the floor near the fire. “I didn’t say we stopped working. We… Oh never mind.”

  Ookpik stood up slowly. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just being crotchety. I haven’t completely forgotten the joys of youth. Tell your friends here all about it. I’m going to bed.” Before she closed the door to her room a short while later, Ookpik called back, “I expect better work from all of you tomorrow!”

  “Goodnight!” Quilla called back.

  “Oh sure,” Vern said. “You two slack off, not me, yet I’m still included in the better work.” She laughed. “Fucking Zunsen.”

  Annai gasped. “You better hope she doesn’t hear you say that.”

  Vern laughed again. “Notice I waited until she was out of earshot. I’m not eating more soap.”

  All her life, Quilla had heard the people of Arnorinn Island and the far north of Arnor referred to as “Zunsen”. All three of them had freely used the term when they first arrived in the village. However, similar to Eloorin, the term Zunsen actually referred to many separate ethnic groups. However, unlike Eloorin, where one of those ethnic groups actually referred to themselves by that term and the others had grudgingly accepted it, Zunsen was a word entirely of Folith creation, apparently coming from the old Folithan language. In’ukt was what the natives of this region of Arnorinn called themselves, and there were apparently numerous other groups, none of which liked the term Zunsen.

  “I don’t know,” Annai said with a laugh. “I think it might be quite entertaining.”

  Vern glared at her and Annai abruptly stopped laughing.

  On their second day here, Ookpik had made Vern eat soap to “wash out her mouth” as she was the slowest to stop using the term. Quilla had to admit it was incredibly amusing to see elderly Ookpik get the better of macho Vern, though she would never admit that to Vern now.

  Vern glanced towards Ookpik’s door. “I think it’s safe to chat now, as long as we keep it down.”

  “Chat about what?” Annai asked.

  Vern motioned to Quilla.

  “The tattoo,” Quilla said.

  Annai shook her head. “Oh gods, I thought you’d come to your senses and decided not to get it.”

  “No, I’ve just been delaying,” Quilla said.

  “I still think it’s a bad idea,” Annai said.

  “And can you provide me with a better option?” Quilla said. “Because if you can, I’ll take it. But otherwise, I don’t think I have much choice.”

  Vern got up and went over to the chair Ookpik had vacated, pulling it closer to Quilla. “So you’ll do it?”

  “I still don’t understand why you’re so eager to do it to her,” Annai said.

  “I’ve been through that,” Vern said. “She’s the Catalyst. It’s the prestige. Yeah, it’s for purely selfish reasons. I don’t deny that.”

  Annai looked to Quilla. “This bonding thing, Quilla, it’s…” She crossed her arms with a sigh. “I don’t trust it.”

  Quilla looked to Vern, who was leaning over the arm of her chair and looking eagerly at her. She wasn’t sure she trusted this bonding thing either, and she probably shouldn’t trust Vern—Vern was a Darker, after all—but despite her better judgement, she did trust her.

  Vern leaned a little closer. “Well?” There was just something in those blue eyes—like a small animal looking hopefully for a handout.

  “Fine,” Quilla said. “What will this entail?” She would just have to keep reminding herself that having the tattoo didn’t make her a Darker. It was just a tattoo after all. It didn’t mean anything if she didn’t want it to.

  “A private location and a couple of hours,” Vern said.

  “A couple of hours?”

  Vern nodded. “It’s small, but fairly detailed. A couple hours should cover it. We can do it in the barn during the night.”

  “They have a lot of tattoos here,” Annai said. “Ookpik’s really good at it, so Koko says. They might not find it weird that you’re giving Quilla a tattoo.”

  “Yeah, but they might get curious about the design. It’s best if we avoid that.”

  “Fair enough,” Annai said.

  Vern turned back to Quilla. “Where do you want it?”

  Quilla sighed. Part of her still wanted to say she didn’t want it anywhere. “I was thinking the underside of my upper arm. That keeps it hidden under sleeves most of the time, but it’s easily revealed if I have to. I guess it doesn’t matter which arm.”

  “It should be your left,” Vern said.

  Quilla shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “You’re right handed and your arm’s going to be in a bit of pain for a few days. You’ll be able to hide it better if it’s not your dominant arm.”

  “And the bonding?”

  “We’ll need to wait a few days while your arm heals a little. So, tonight?”

  Quilla shook her head. She was going to commit to it, but she needed a least a little more time. “Tomorrow night. I’m too tired tonight.”

  “You’re gonna be tired tomorrow night too.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll have had more time to prepare for it.”

  Vern leaned back in her chair. “All right. At least you’re going through with it. I can’t really complain about that.” She slapped her thighs and stood up. “In that case, I’m going to sleep.” She headed across the room, retrieved a sleeping blanket and curled up on the floor.

  Annai sat in the chair and pulled it even closer to Quilla, leaning in to speak quietly. “Are you sure about this?”

  Yes? No? All Quilla could do was give her a non-committal shrug.

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