Extraits

- Je ne pense pas que tu aies besoin qu'on s'occupe de toi.

Un rire étranglé monte dans ta gorge.

Tu te redresse. L'odeur de fumée de tes cheveux vient se mêler à la douceur qui émane du miel. Mon coeur s'emballe, empli de désir à la vue de la douce courbe de ta gorge, de l'éclat chaud de ta peau juste sous tes oreilles, de tes lèvres qui esquissent un sourire énigmatique.

Pek marque une pause et se lèche la lèvre supérieur, comme si ce souvenir avait un goût. Le vent rougiy ses joues et fait larmoyer ses yeux, mais son sourire ne faiblit pas.

- Ces filles... Ces filles vont changer nos vies.

Je détourne le visage en entendant cette audacieuse prédiction. Je ne veux pas qu'il puisse lire l'inquiètude dans mes yeux. La peur que je ressens à l'idée que ma vie a peut-être déjà changé.

« Son,” my father starts. There’s tension in his voice. A stranger might not notice, but I can tell. “This day has brought us good fortune. These are our neighbors from the south, from the clan of Olen. They visited us once several years ago, when they were traveling from their former home north and west of here, to the place they now call home.”

I remember this, of course. Our clan has such infrequent contact with outsiders that when a group passes through, I don’t forget. It was five years ago; I was twelve. I remember young girls of about my age. I realize, standing here now, that I remember you.

You were traveling by boat, a small clan moving south in kayaks made of sealskin stretched over a frame of mammoth bones, just like the kayaks my own clan uses to fish and gather kelp and mollusks. »

« You come closer, and I’m struck by the beauty in the balance of your features. I notice the strong lines of your eyebrows and cheekbones tilting up and away from the softer lines of your mouth. Your eyes—dark and wide set—scan the meadow, and I’m startled by the way my heart pounds as I wait for them to fall on me.

This may be the most startling and marvelous day of my life. »

« My eyes fix on these two as they approach, a certain authority in their movements. They practically saunter toward us, each carrying a spear at her side. One, dressed in finely tailored hides, walks slightly ahead of the group. Her parka’s hood obscures her hair and her face is half-hidden in shadow, but there’s no question that she’s a girl—the swing in her shoulders and the movement in her hips give her away.

The second girl is you.

From this distance I can’t quite see your face, so I notice your clothing first. Your parka and pants must have been borrowed from a brother—they’re far less fitted than those of the first girl—yet there is femininity in the smaller things, like the curved lines of your long, bare neck, and the golden glow of your tan skin in the sunlight. Your hood is back and your head is uncovered, letting your black hair, loose and unbraided, roll like a river on the wind behind you. »

« Still, it lands about two paces short of Pek’s. I may be his older brother, but everyone jokes that Pek was born with a spear in his hand. He has always been able to out-throw me.

“Not bad,” he says. “That should be good enough to impress the girls.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” I say, forcing a laugh. There are no girls our age in our clan, something Pek and I try to joke about to hide the worry it causes us. But it’s not a joke, and no one knows that better than Pek and I do.

Without girls, there will be no wives for my brothers and me. Our clan could dwindle, even end.

“You won’t have to remember for long.” Pek’s gaze rests on something past my shoulder as an odd smile climbs from his lips to his eyes. Suddenly, this doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. My stomach tightens, and I spin around.

At the southern edge of the meadow, at the precise spot where Pek had appeared just moments ago, two girls come into view, flanked by our father, our mother, and a man I don’t recognize. “What— »

« Did you run the whole way from camp?”

“Yes,” he says, tipping his head to let the wind blow his hair from his eyes so he can look at me. Sweat glistens on his forehead. “A boat is on the beach. A beautiful long canoe dug out from the trunk of a single tree—you wouldn’t believe how beautiful.”

I run my eyes over Pek’s face, still somewhat soft and boyish at sixteen. He favors our mother—he has her easy smile and eyes that glow with the light of a secret scheme. “Is this a game? Are you playing a trick on me—”

“Why would I bother to run all the way out here—”

“I’m not sure, but I know that there’s no such thing as a boat made of the trunk of a single tree—”

“Fine. Believe what you want to believe. »

« I lie in the grass with my eyes closed, listening for the whir of honeybee wings, but it’s too early in the season for bees and I know it. I needed an excuse, I guess, something to say to get out of camp for a while, and the bees will be back soon, anyway. Before the next full moon comes, these wildflowers will be covered in bees and I’ll be hunting for their hives. I’m just a little ahead of them.

“Kol! »