Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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troubles to care. I wish I could go back and change things. But I can't, Sova." She looked at the backs of
the warriors riding ahead of them.
"I know." The girl gazed down at the poured stone road.
"Anything more you want to say?" Megan said, as if it weren't as obvious as a painted nose.
The girl kicked a foot clear of the stirrup, crossing it over the pommel, to better face Megan. Another
trick she'd picked up from Shkai'ra. "Zhymata… you'vebeen nice to me.You say you're sorry." She
gazed ahead, putting her foot back in the stirrup again. "Butshe never has. And never will, I know."
Shkai'ra . "Sheisn't sorry; she thinks she did me and Francosz—Francosz andme , I mean—nothing but
good. She doesn't care what I feel, just what she thinks. She doesn't care whatanyone feels except
herself and you. And not even you, sometimes."
How do I explain this without sounding carping? Megan thought for a minute. "I love Shkai'ra," she
said finally, "but sometimes she pisses me off." Fishhook swooped low over Sova, earning a languid
swat. "I don't know how she opened up enough to fall in love with me, because she is convinced that the
world works exactly as itshould … not necessarily as itdoes . She's trying to understand the way
everyone else feels—but she hides so much hurt from herself that she can't bear to see anyone else's.
That's my best guess. Someday she's going to have to understand these things if she wants to be a better
warrior and a better person." Megan looked over at the girl. "She decided that what she did was right,
period.I'm not going to say that sometimes she's just a pigheaded idiot ."
"What's understanding those things got to do with being a betterwarrior ?"
Koru, how do I set into these questions? "Well—the simplest answer is that if she doesn't understand,
if she isn't sensitive to people, she'll treat them with contempt, underestimate someone and get killed; but
that's only one. There are as many reasons as there are people…" Megan stopped for a bit. "I know it all
sounds mystical and airy, but a teacher of mine said that naZak who truly know themselves and thus,
others, have a power aside frommanrauq ."
"Mmm." The girl's face stayed thoughtful for a while, as she mulled this over. "Khyd-hirddoesn't really
know herself. And she's trying to make me into someone else who doesn't really know myself. But Iwant
to know myself, or how else will I know who I am? I mean…" She trailed off.
"You are right about what Shkai'ra's trying to teach you. And you're at an age when most people don't
know themselves. I still don't know myself, but I'm still trying. It's almost more important than book
learning." She looked sideways at Sova. "And you know how importantthat is." She smiled. "If I can
help, feel free to ask."
"Thanks,zhymata ." The round Thanish features lit in what was all too rare; a smile that was neither
ironic nor childhood silliness.
"Thank you, Sovee." They were riding close enough to touch, the two ponies nipping at each other's
necks. Megan laid her hand on the girl's mailed shoulder and smiled, a bare curving of the lips. "You've
taught me how to love you. I do my best, hey, for an evil Zak witch that eats Thanish babies for
breakfast?"
The girl didn't laugh; but after a little while, she said, "Zhymata, you taught me how to love you, too."
They rode on, through immaculate deserted farmland. Time passed, filled with the clopping of hooves,