Jainan waited for him to catch up. “Bears where I grew up are shy and retiring unless they have cubs,” he said. “Also they have fur and four legs. That thing is an oversize reptile.”
“What kind of bear has fur?” Kiem thought he heard something and turned back to scan the trees again.
“Kiem,” Jainan said sharply.
Kiem spun around. Jainan pointed to the side, far from where Kiem had been looking. A black shape was frozen just shy of the tree line, low to the ground, its blunt, scaled snout pointed toward them.
“Shit,” Kiem said. “Let’s, uh, let’s move back slowly.” It only took a few steps to put himself between Jainan and the bear. He held up the branch in front of him. The leaves swayed on the twigs; he had a bad feeling the bear wouldn’t find it that threatening. “If it comes nearer, get ready to yell.”
“There’s not much room,” Jainan said from behind him, tense. “If we move back much we’ll hit the river. The ice looks thin.”
“Then … sideways,” Kiem said, trying to keep his eyes on the bear, which was raising and lowering one of its hind legs as if testing the ground. “We heroically retreat … sideways.”
“Yes,” Jainan said. “We should separate.” His voice was farther away than it should be, and Kiem realized he was striding away at a tangent, widening the gap between them, on a trajectory that took him diagonally away from the river.
“Wait, not closer to it!”
“We can confuse it if we’re in different places!” Jainan called back.
“Wait! Jainan!” Kiem moved his head, and at that moment, the bear charged.
Kiem stumbled, caught off-balance as he ordered his body to sprint. He saw, as if in slow motion, Jainan stop, turn toward the bear, put up his tree branch in front of him. Kiem pushed forward as if moving through treacle. Only then did he turn his head to see the bear trundle and curve in its charge.
It wasn’t going for Jainan. It was going for him.
He didn’t have time to shout. The bear was on him: a shattering impact of scales and teeth, a blast of foul breath. Kiem thrust the branch desperately between them as the impact threw him back. He tried to catch his footing, but he was already falling.
He hit the ground. There was a jarring, splintering crash that he thought for one horrible moment was his bones, but he couldn’t feel pain. Then he registered ice at the same moment the cold water hit him like a weapon.
He gasped and flung himself forward at the river bank, dropping the stick. The cold was viscerally shocking, nearly stopping his heart, and for a moment he forgot about—
—the bear. The bear should have been on him. But there was no ripping pain, not yet. Instead it was several feet away, by Jainan, in a blur of movement. Kiem heard a grunt of rage as his brain caught up with his ears. Jainan stepped back out of reach of the armored claw, spun for momentum, and brought his makeshift quarterstaff around for another blow.
The bear reeled back. One of its paws came up to its snout while it scrabbled itself back with the other five. It and Jainan regarded each other warily.
Kiem tried to hold still in the water as he got his footing on the rocks below, panting in shallow gasps from the cold. The bear moved, but Jainan was quicker: he lunged forward and cracked the stick with surgical precision across one of the bear’s eyes.
A screech of animal pain filled the space between the trees. The bear stumbled back on its six legs, ducking its head away from Jainan. Jainan was in a defensive stance, as if he expected it to spin and attack, but it was already skittering away across the snow.
Kiem pulled himself up the bank. His teeth chattered and he still couldn’t breathe properly, but he managed to get one sodden leg out of the water. And then hands were under his arms, dragging him out until he lay on the bank in the snow.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Jainan fell to his knees beside him. “Kiem, I’m so sorry, I thought it would go for me if it saw me moving.”
The note in Jainan’s voice galvanized Kiem into moving. He sat up, shivering, and resisted the urge to curl up. “Y-you meant it to go for you?”
“No,” Jainan said. “Yes. I don’t know. I thought I could draw it off. I didn’t mean it to be anywhere near you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Take my gloves.”
Kiem tried to wrap his arms over his chest, but it wasn’t helping. “Jainan,” he said, “that w-was incredible. You just fought off a bear. Shit, it’s cold. I d-don’t want your gloves,” he added, as Jainan tugged Kiem’s soaked gloves off his hands and replaced them with his own.
“Mm.” Jainan’s talkativeness had apparently run out. He gripped Kiem’s wrists and pulled him to his feet. Kiem followed the direction clumsily, too cold and soaked to do much thinking, and wasn’t expecting a full-on embrace.
He was too surprised to move. Jainan wrapped his arms around him, heedless of the fact that Kiem’s dripping coat was probably soaking river water into his own clothes. Kiem was too cold to feel much. It wasn’t even noticeably warmer, except on his face, where Jainan’s presence created a shelter against the breeze. Kiem just shut his eyes and drank in the feeling of Jainan close to him.
It lasted only short seconds. Jainan let go and said, “We’ll need to set up the tent. At least we saved the heating canisters.”
“R-right,” Kiem said. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around himself again and forced himself to think. “Right. Okay. Maybe not here. Let’s get a bit farther.”
“Will it come back?” Jainan said. He picked up the backpack—Kiem hadn’t noticed him shed it to fight—and hovered by Kiem’s side.
He was obviously waiting for Kiem to get his shit together and actually start walking, however much Kiem’s whole body ached. Jainan had just fought off a bear. Kiem was only cold. “Shouldn’t,” Kiem said, finally clearing the lowest bar for effort and putting one foot in front of another. “You scared it off. They only go for prey that doesn’t f-fight back.” He clamped his jaw shut to stop his teeth chattering.
Jainan fell into a tense silence. Kiem stopped himself from talking. He pretended it was easier to keep walking once he’d started and tried to ignore the way his energy seemed to be seeping away with every step, like his soaked and freezing clothes were bleeding it out of him.
“Here,” Jainan said. Kiem stopped, pulling himself out of something close to a fugue state. He glanced around. They were some distance from any trees, under an overhang at the top of a shallow slope.
“Looks good,” Kiem said. He held out his hands for the backpack. “Let me—”
“I’ve got it,” Jainan said, already laying out their spartan camping gear. Kiem took the sleeping bags to unpack, but his fingers were numb and clumsy, even when he slipped his hands out of his borrowed gloves. He fumbled a toggle time and time again because his hands were shaking too violently to control.
It slipped out of his hand for the tenth time. “Argh!”
“Are you all right?” Jainan called.
“Yes. F-fine. Ignore me,” Kiem said. He finally tugged the string free on about the eleventh try and straightened up with some relief.
When he looked over his shoulder, Jainan already had the tent up and anchored—about twice as fast as he’d done it the previous evening—and had stowed most of their things inside. He came back around the front and handed Kiem a stim tab, already unwrapped. For all that Jainan hadn’t grown up in this climate, he was remorselessly efficient at getting things done, while Kiem fumbled around here like he had a faulty connection.
Jainan caught his expression. “Is something funny?”
“I was just th-thinking,” Kiem said, “that it’s lucky one of us reacts to danger by actually being competent, rather than f-falling into the nearest river.”
Jainan’s face went blank. “I am sorry if I gave the impression—”
“What,” Kiem said. “Jainan, you f-fought off a bear.” He tried to shove his hands back into his pockets; one of his nearly numb fingers caught on the fabric, and he suppr
essed a grunt of pain.
A complicated mix of emotions had risen on Jainan’s face, but that wiped them away and replaced them with concern. “You should get inside.”
Out of habit, Kiem said, “We should eat out here where there’s space—”
“Inside,” Jainan said, with an edge to his tone that Kiem hadn’t heard from him before. Kiem half grinned through another convulsive shiver and did as he said.
It was no warmer in the tent, but the two sleeping bags Jainan had laid out covered the floor and made it look so inviting, Kiem’s tiredness was suddenly impossible to fight. He gave up wrestling with the door flap and fell from his knees facedown on the cushioned fabric. It was damp with melted snow. He didn’t care.
Behind him, Jainan was politely trying to move Kiem’s feet so he could fasten the door flap shut. Kiem groaned because moving seemed like a mountainous effort, but he recognized he was being a pain. He managed to roll over, sit up, and make a half-hearted tug at his boot. His hands still weren’t working; it slipped out of his grasp. The friction hurt. That was when the tired misery he’d kept at bay tipped into something like panic.
“Let me.”
Kiem opened his eyes from his frustrated grimace to say, What? but Jainan was already crouching over his feet and freeing the fasteners. His hand slipped around Kiem’s ankle and held it while he tugged the boot free. Every movement was gentle.
You don’t have to do this was on the tip of Kiem’s tongue, but he couldn’t say it. He’d be in serious trouble if Jainan had decided not to come along on the trip in the first place. He couldn’t even make his bloody fingers work properly, and if he didn’t warm up soon, he was in the danger zone for frostbite and hypothermia. Instead he said fervently, “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Jainan stopped momentarily in the act of setting Kiem’s boots aside. Kiem worried he’d just offended him, but Jainan’s glance at him was thoughtful and somehow pleased. “Mm,” he said. “You’re not going to get any warmer lying on top of the cover.”
Kiem took the hint. He managed to strip off his wet trousers and underlayers himself—it hurt, but there was no way he was going to make Jainan feel he had to do that. Besides, pain was probably a good sign; at least his hands weren’t entirely numb. His legs felt like lead. He climbed into the sleeping bag and zipped it up behind him through sheer force of will.
That was the last effort he could make. He lay down on his stomach and let his face press into the cushioned ground. The dry fabric of the sleeping bag was smooth and warm against his bare skin, and it felt almost good. His limbs were too heavy to move. He shut his eyes.
After a while Jainan started moving around. Kiem heard the rustling of waterproof fabric and clothes, and then a click and a low buzz that he recognized. Jainan had set off one of the heating cylinders. Kiem still couldn’t get up the energy to move, but he felt the warmth on his face a few moments later, way before it could get through the insulation of the sleeping bag. He kept his eyes shut and let himself just exist. He would warm up eventually.
“Kiem!” Jainan said sharply.
It took Kiem a moment to realize that wasn’t the first time Jainan had said his name. He resented being pulled out of the fog of weariness. “Mmrf?”
“I said, can you eat something?”
Kiem managed a negative grunt. “L’ter.”
From the sound of it, Jainan was leaning over him, rustling around near the foot of the sleeping bag. “This isn’t—” he said. “How do I turn this up? The heater.”
“Don’,” Kiem said, his eyes still shut. “Runs out sooner.”
“That is not important!” There was the same edge to his voice as when he’d told Kiem to get inside the tent.
Kiem opened his eyes. “’S fine,” he said, because apparently he wouldn’t get enough quiet to sleep until Jainan was reassured. “Warming up. Bear’s gone. No reason to be worried.”
“Yes, there is,” Jainan said. “You’ve barely said anything in the last half hour.”
“Damning evidence,” Kiem mumbled into the bit of cushioning that served as a pillow. He could feel the ground through it. He was too tired to solve this; surely it could wait.
More rustling, while Kiem closed his eyes again. Then Jainan said, “Excuse me,” and he felt the sleeping bag move. The zip at the side opened, and then there was the glorious warmth of someone right next to him. Kiem turned without even thinking about it and pressed himself closer. He had a horrible, nagging feeling that there was some reason he shouldn’t give himself up to the comfort of this. He ignored it.
“All right,” Jainan said quietly, somewhere that sounded very far in the distance, though the voice was right next to his ear. “Please be all right.”
Kiem tried to tell him that everything was fine, more than that, everything was for some reason perfect, but sleep was too close to claiming him. He let himself sink into it.
CHAPTER 18
When Jainan woke, he was warm. Faint gray moonlight filtered in through the tent roof. He had a collection of small aches and pains trying to make themselves known, but for some reason he felt at peace.
Then he realized he was tangled up with Kiem, his bare arm over Kiem’s naked back, and he froze.
Even as Jainan’s brain raced headlong toward panic, Kiem’s eyes opened. His gaze was unfocused and sleepy. Jainan took a breath, and that was all it took for Kiem to realize they were touching and flinch back as far as he could in the sleeping bag.
Their legs were still touching. Jainan was very aware that he was only wearing a shirt and underwear, and Kiem even less than that. He tried not to let the awkwardness come through in his voice. “Better?”
Kiem cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.” He sounded more coherent than he had last night. Jainan tried not to think about the agony of mixed comfort and embarrassment that last night had been. “Yeah. Yes. Much better. See, no shivering.” He moved his hand as if to demonstrate, but that nearly brought them back in contact again, and he stopped and held unnaturally still. “Um. Thanks.”
Jainan suddenly realized the fastenings were on his own side. He was an idiot. He wasted no further time in unzipping the side of the sleeping bag, rolling out, and retreating to his own cramped half of the tent. His skin felt tight with mortification even at this distance. He crossed his legs, attempting to compose himself, and focused on unwrapping a ration pack.
Kiem slowly sat up and rubbed his shoulder. There was a red mark across it that must be from where he’d lain on Jainan’s arm.
“I am sorry I took the liberty,” Jainan said, focusing with all his might on the wrapper. He folded it back in small, neat squares. “I thought you were in danger of hypothermia. I may have been wrong.”
“Er, no, really, don’t be sorry.” Kiem said. He was talking slightly faster than normal. “I was definitely getting that way. You did everything right—actually, my prime five teacher would be pretty proud of us, I guess. Of course, she never taught a module on how to win fights with bears.”
Of course Kiem knew how to paper it over. Kiem was good at smoothing away awkwardness. “No,” Jainan said, making sure he was still looking down at his hands. He folded the wrapper back over itself again into another neat square.
Kiem grabbed the other ration pack. “I’m just gonna have a quick look around,” he said. “Scout the next move. Back in a moment.” He pulled on his trousers and coat—they looked almost dry from the warmth of the heater—and climbed out of the tent.
Jainan looked up as he left. Sorry, he wanted to say again, but his tongue was clumsy and slow. However sensible sharing their body warmth had been, he had been wrong to find it pleasant. He had taken advantage of Kiem’s incapacitation. No wonder Kiem wanted to take some time outside.
The heating capsule had run down in the hours since they’d fallen asleep. He occupied himself with changing it and organizing the detritus of their bag. The stim tabs were missing; Kiem must still have them in his pocket.
It was
just unfortunate, that was all. They lived in close quarters at home and they had been forced into closer quarters here. If Kiem could get the space he needed, they could go back to what had developed into an almost comfortable equilibrium. Jainan activated his wristband automatically to look up more about monasteries, but of course they were out of range. Never mind. He could ask Bel when they got back.
Jainan looked up from the heating capsule when Kiem returned. It was working now: the tent was so warm that Kiem shrugged out of his coat the moment he came in. “I thought we might as well use another one,” Jainan said in explanation. “I’m not sure when you want to set off, but I assumed we would wait at least until it was light enough to see, so we may as well keep warm. And I think we may be able to use this to warm water?”
“Good idea,” Kiem said. “There’s coffee powder somewhere, did you find it with the food?” He seemed more energetic. He must have taken at least one more stim tab.
“Yes,” Jainan said. He shook some powder into the cup attachment, which Kiem took outside and filled with snow. Jainan paid more attention to melting it than necessary, but once it was fitted to the canister and warming, he ran out of things to do to keep from looking at Kiem. He found himself locking his hands together in his lap and inspecting them.
The awkward silence stretched out for long minutes, until Jainan heard Kiem take a deep breath. “So, uh,” Kiem said, sounding as if he had reached some sort of conclusion when he was outside. “Can we talk for a moment about … stuff?”
“Stuff,” Jainan said blankly.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about the monastery. I think I know why you brought it up.” Jainan’s back started to knot up with tension; so it was going to be that kind of conversation. Kiem carried on, “It’s about having your own freedom, right? I understand. I know you didn’t choose this marriage. But, you know, long-term, it doesn’t have to be so much like a marriage. I mean, we’re—we’re friends, right? Sort of?” He stopped. Sort of friends echoed in Jainan’s head. It was a relief to hear it confirmed, and more than he should expect. It shouldn’t hurt. Jainan didn’t know why it did.
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