Acabe

Firefoot and Acabe were bought together, as hatchlings betrothed, when the magic of their striped markings was new to the world.

Acabe has chafed at his certain fate from the day he was old enough to know it. Betrothed! He could only have one mate, and only this one, whom he didn't even choose for himself! It was good that he liked Firefoot, that he came to love her before he could even feel trapped--for now, as adults, he regards her as a fellow prisoner in the cage of destiny, and he is fond of her and does not resent her. She does what she pleases, after all, and he likes that about her.

But Acabe, how can he! In this clan, all the Wildclaw males are secondary to their females. He rebels and is chastened; he acts out and is quieted. 'Be more mature,' he is told, and he is given the examples of other males of his kind. Mute Mer, living in South's shadow; smiling Deepsea, living in Bell's shadow.

No, Acabe thinks; no thank you. No shadows for him, not even if they are Coatl-shaped. He took one of the light-making vests out of the hoard, no longer needed now that the clan doesn't live in the lightless depths of the sea anymore, and he wears it to remind himself that he is not within anyone's shadow. Firefoot encourages him, and she got him a friend--a centaur. A centaur! A warrior!

Acabe talks endlessly to the centaur, who is bemused by such overflowing attention. The centaur's name is Kerup, and he expected to be a prisoner, not a cherished friend--but cherished friend he becomes, and Acabe will not be parted from him. No shadows for either of them, no sir; only light and independence and as much freedom as Acabe can scrape together from his fate.