I don’t care what the what the others do, Calypsia.’ Pelin’s voice sharpened. ‘You’re not like them.’
Cal sighed. How many times had she heard those words before? They were always the beginning of an exasperating exchange that went nowhere. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from, asking, ‘Why aren’t I like the others?’
Pelin didn’t answer. He reached for a stone bench, draped in sealskin, and sank down upon it. Leaning foeward, he rested his head in his hands.
What does that mean, “not like the others’?’ Cal persisted.
‘It’s not safe for you,’ said Pelin. ‘I’m afraind that-that there are-‘
‘What are you afraid of? Cal interrupted. ‘You must tell me.’
‘I can’t say. You have to trust me. It’s not safe.’
‘No! cal anapped. ‘I am old enough. You must trust me now