Early in the following summer Karina went to see her father. By that time the Canton had settled down and he was chief of the Town Elders.
«I’m pregnant,” she told him.
He had aged, this last few months. He walked a little more slowly, stood a little less tall. He spoke more carefully, weighing each word, the memory of the Massacre of Rangua still burning in his mind. Torch now handled a lot of his work — in addition to squiring Teressa and Runa.
«I don’t see how you can be,” said El Tigre, but his eyes told him she was.
She laughed shakily. «Neither do I.…» She glanced down at herself, gulped, then burst into tears. «Father, I’m so scared! What kind of things am I carrying? What ’ s in there?»
He laid a huge arm around her. «It’s not like my girl to be frightened.»
«I never used to be, before,” she sobbed. «Whenever I was frightened or hurt, I used to be able to … kind of concentrate, and I could make it go away. I used to call the things that helped me my Little Friends. I never told anyone about them.»
El Tigre’s eyes were far away, remembering. «Serena … your mother. Nothing could hurt her — until.…» Until a few months before she died.
«Father, my Little Friends have gone, now. I’m scared the things inside me have killed them!»
«Don’t be ridiculous, Karina.» He spoke firmly, masking his love. It was the only way. «They’re just babies, your first. It’s natural for you to be nervous.»
«I’m going away. I want to do this by myself.»
«That’s the usual way.»
«I … I may not come back.»
«I’ll be very sorry if you don’t. And so will Raoul.»
«Raoul?»
«Well, you are.… I mean, I thought.…»
«Only True Humans stick around one another afterwards, father.» Her voice was brittle. «Raoul and I have stayed together for the good of the Canton, but now we do it the felino way. I’d have thought you’d understand that, of all people.»
And El Tigre made his confession.
«I’ve never stopped loving your mother, Karina.»
Karina bore John by the shores of Lake Da Gueria.
It was a difficult birth because he was so big. Karina lay on the pebbles at the water’s edge, mewing with pain. She was alone, apart from a guanaco who watched her with supercilious eyes, chewing. John was born, and Karina bit the cord, and the pain subsided to an ache. There were no others; John was the only baby and Karina inspected him closely for strangenesses, but he seemed normal enough.
Karina rested.
Later that day, feeling better, she bathed John in the warm waters of Lake Da Gueria and wrapped him in a soft blanket, and held him against her. The low sunlight slanted past her, casting long shadows and illuminating the distant sail of a car beating down the coast. She lay back in some contentment, listening to the ripples spending themselves on the lake shore.
John made a sound.
Karina jerked; she’d been dozing. The guanaco had wandered away.
John looked at Karina directly, his eyes focussed in a way that babies’ eyes never do. He smiled.
And something in those eyes said, I ’ m hungry.
«Hello, Little Friends,” said Karina happily, and held John to her breast. He was a fine, strong boy.
She found herself looking forward to showing him to Raoul.