The Sentinels Boarfish

That’s how your mom and dad have felt for the past couple years.

Something like fire licked through Swordfish. He raised his head and pinned his deep ocean gaze on his grandmother with shocking defiance.

Did she not think he’d carried the rabid dog of grief inside him all that time? The guilt he had forced upon himself was waves worse than anything she might attempt. Hearing that his family was alive had been like dropping the young man into glacial waters. Swordfish had spent all that time believing that the bear had taken them and so the bear had been punished. Still, the young man had carried the weight of his loss.

Don’t.

Part of him was grateful that she could not hear the way his voice cracked, could only see the thin-lipped expression that followed.

Don’t tell me they’re safe an’ happy an’ then try to twist me to follow ya. That ain’t right. That ain’t fair. None of this was.

I’m helpin’ this poor idiot find his daughter an’ then I’ll find ya. Yer not invited.

Swordfish swung his head away from her before he recalled she would not be able to hear him. He looked back over his shoulder, blue eyes filled with hurt.

Ya don’t have to tell ‘em, y’know. Let ‘em go on bein’ happy.

The bear-hunter began his trek back to the beach, diverting his path so that he would not lead Towhee directly to Lestan.