East

"I will not hunt today," Batu said, joining me.

"Fine with me. Is this water safe to drink?"

"Yes."

I drank my fill and sat back on my heels. Stars were brilliant on the side of the sky opposite of the horizon, and the moon was a sliver.

"The night I came here, the moon was like this," I murmured, a pang of longing in my chest.

Already I saw more stars than I ever had in southern California, and the sun wasn't fully gone yet. This world … Batu's world … was raw, unspoiled, beautiful.

But I didn't feel part of it. I didn't know if I ever would. If I spent too much time thinking of the aunt and uncle who raised me, of Taylor, of how this might be penance … I'd cry.

I wasn't a crier. I didn't like feeling sad or down or depressed. I had a sunny disposition, although, since arriving here, it had been more like this twilighty time of night, a combination of dark and light where there had only been sunshine before. The loss of Taylor was forever on my soul. This much I knew.

What would Amy Pond do? I asked myself, thoughts on one of my favorite Doctor Who companions. She'd believe the Doctor could find her and trek on until he does.

Carter was my Doctor Who. I didn't care that Taylor's people had found me. It was possible I leaned towards Carter because I had met him and experienced a sense of kinship, however weird and improbable that was. Moreover, I knew how smart he was. He had done the impossible, according to Taylor, albeit, somewhat imperfectly.

I touched the back of my head, where I imagined the microchips were implanted by Carter. He had almost mastered technology an entire agency of time travelers viewed as impossible.

If he did this, he could find me.

Do I want him to? I couldn't trust him or his intentions. He also claimed not to be able to return me to my time. Confusion jammed up my ability to reason, to identify what I really wanted - and what was possible.

Maybe it's better I stay lost in history.

But here?

"I miss home." I sighed. "I don't think I'll ever see it again, Batu."

He was quiet, gaze on the sky.

"If you couldn't go home to the steppes, what would you do?" I asked the warrior beside me, genuinely curious to hear his grounded take on reality.

"I would make a life wherever I was," he said simply.

"You wouldn't try to go home?"

"I would, unless it was impossible."