Ironhand (Taurin's Chosen Book 2)

and times where black bitterness rises up to choke me, and I know Taurin is there through them all. I—no longer feel any resentment toward him, nor indifference, but… I’m not ready to reach out and grasp his hand yet. Not yet.”
“I pray that someday you’ll find that he’s already reached most of the way to you.” I take his gloved hand in mine, give it a squeeze. I feel the iron through the leather, and then I let go. Heat rises into my cheeks. Such a small gesture, yet it feels like fighting through a thorn barrier and breaching walls when done to a man as guarded as Kato.
He holds his right hand in his left for a brief instant, then smiles. “Someday. Why did you come here, Flutter?”
I have not heard the name in two years, but it comes so naturally to his lips and feels so normal to my ears that I smile.
“I wanted to see the plains. See them for myself, I mean.” Again, I feel the heat in my cheeks. I’ve hidden in this man’s body twice, yet it’s so hard to hold a conversation without a cloak’s hair to hide my face, or a cloak’s wings to wrap around me. “I wanted to see if they were as wild and beautiful as a man’s memory made them out to be.”
“You won’t see very much of them, hiding out here in Markesh.”
“I know,” I grimace. “But it’s hard for a single woman, even one of the eilendi, to take off into the plains by herself.” Then, realizing how much it sounds that I’m fishing for an invitation, I rush on. “Did you hear what happened in Highwind?”
“No.”
“It was about a year and a half ago. Apparently, the hospital burned to the ground, along with a number of other buildings. Not to mention the quake and the collapse of several underground mines. It sounded like a rather tumultuous time for the city.”
“Is that so?”
I give up. He’s clearly not ready to tell me anything, and he’s already looking at his leatherwork.
I feel let down. I’ve waited for months for this meeting—and now it’s over. I shuffle my feet. “Anyhow, I wanted to thank you—in person—for all you did for me. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be—”
“I’ll take you,” he says, cutting off my speech.
“What?”
“When I come back through here,” he says, patiently as if to a slow child, “I’ll take you to see the plains.”
“Oh. Well, I—thank you. I’d like that.”
We look at each other. I’m the first to break eye contact. “I’d better get back. Good bye, Kato.”
I turn away.
“Wait, Flutter.”
I look over my shoulder. His mouth’s not smiling, but his eyes are. “Your name,” he says. “You never told me your name. How am I going to find you otherwise?”
I grin back at him.
And tell him my name.
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Books by Rabia Gale
Taurin's Chosen
Mourning Cloak
Ironhand


The Sunless World
Quartz
Flux


Fantasy Novella
Rainbird


About the Author
I create weird worlds full of magic and machines, and write characters struggling to do what’s right. I’m fascinated by light and darkness, transformation, and things that fly. Giant squid and space dragons appear in my work—you have been warned!
A native of Pakistan, I grew up in hot, humid Karachi. I then spent almost a decade in Northern New England where I learned to love fall, tolerate snow, and be snobbish about maple syrup and sweet corn. I now live in Northern Virginia.
Visit me online at http://www.rabiagale.com or follow me on Twitter at https://twitter.com/rabiagale. I love hearing from readers!