Page 2 of The Hummingbird’s Gift

“Chief!”

Tier turned to find his Sentry Leader, Kayla, looking at him with annoyance.

“Aunt,” he greeted her respectfully.

She rolled her eyes. “I called you three times.”

“Sorry, I just… it’s been a busy few days.” It was true. There were other tribes to contact, government agents to update, children to identify and return to their homes. And then after that, meetings, supplies, the regular running of the tribe and all of the new headaches the kidnapping brought with it, even after everyone was home and safe, and the experts had taken over.

She gave him a stern look. “Go see him.”

“Go see who?”

Kayla glared at him. Her glares were legendary. And while he kept in shape and liked to spar, she was absolutely lethal.

“I will contact the last two tribes,” she told him, sounding equally determined and annoyed.

Tier raised one eyebrow. Kayla hated the phone. She hated diplomacy even more, though she wasn’t bad at it when pressed.

But that little spark in his throat was calling him…

“Go.” She added a hint of command to the word, which warmed his Adam’s apple and pushed him to comply. Their strength-sharing gifts were almost equally matched, so she probably couldn’t force him. But she’d made her point clear.

Well, alright then. There were hundreds of other things that he needed to do, but those two calls were the last thing that he absolutely needed to complete this morning. Surely he could take a break for an hour.

“Thank you.” He stood and made for the door, not shutting off his computer because he knew she would use it.

“Tier?” she called after him.

“Yes?”

“You talk a lot about balance.”

“Yes?” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this. Kayla, named She Who Calls because of her strength of leading others into battle, was interested in action. She had little patience for discussion or philosophizing. Or even ordering supplies that weren’t weapons or defensive technology.

“Well, you know what your balance is.” She gave him another glare.

“Um, thank you.” He did not know what his balance was, but he also knew she wasn’t going to explain.

His balance was supposed to be a heart-singer, someone who could sense and calm emotions. Someone who would bring peace and resolve conflicts. Someone who he would one day have to marry for the strength of the tribe.

That person would become the next Guide, replacing his grandfather who had held the role for longer than he wanted it. Even if he still wanted the position, he was nearing a hundred eighty years old, and he wouldn’t be around forever. Tier’s deferral wasn’t healthy for the tribe.

He went to see Rohahen anyway.

The small clinic was only a few doors down. It smelled of sage and antiseptic. The walls were decorated with motifs to represent health and healing, and bottles of dried herbs were lined up alongside industrial boxes of cotton swabs and alcohol pads.

To one side was a round, airy atrium where people could walk clockwise around the inlaid design, touching each of the four directions as they walked the circle of life. There were spaces in the building to listen to the wisdom of elders, and also spaces to get vaccines and ultrasounds.

It had been one of Rohahen’s best ideas, a suggestion he’d dreamed up between the medical and spiritual practitioners, two groups that often overlapped, when the old clinic needed to be torn down.

Tier greeted the nurse practitioner who was preparing something in one of the waiting rooms. She waved him through to the back where there was a single hospital bed, an extra cot, and two chairs.

Rohahen was sitting in a chair. He wore a faded blue hospital gown and a pleased grin. His dark skin was a shade paler than usual. Someone had removed the leaves, sticks, and most of the blood and muck from his dark, curly hair, but it still hung across his shoulders in a messy tangle instead of a neat braid.

Tier had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. And he had almost lost him.

He stood for a minute in the doorway, feeling an odd reversal of roles. Usually Rohahen came to him.