“Yes, socially, at least. There are Serians as old as I am now who have never taken a ’gator, for one reason or another. They're not the easiest of animals to kill, and though there are thousands of them, it does sometimes happen that they become cautious and elusive. It comes in waves. We've never pretended to understand them; we just kill them, before they kill us.”

“So some Serians never reach adulthood?”

Lulah frowned. “It's not that simple. It's acceptance and standing that are affected. A Serian who takes their ’gator when they're in their teens will likely have a comfortable life, respected and involved within the community. Either that, or they do as I did and travel to Noreela.”

“Come to make your fortune,” Ramus said, a smile in his voice. He was pleased that Lulah laughed softly before responding.

“There are some who say that, yes. But most of us know there's no fortune to be made. It's more a case of broadening horizons, seeing more of the world. Mancoseria becomes a very small place when you have to kill seethe-gators simply to protect your people and cattle, rather than to prove yourself.”

Lulah took a drink from her water skin and passed it across to Ramus. He accepted, swilling the water around his mouth to clean the dust from his tongue and teeth. He said nothing, eager to hear the rest of Lulah's story.

“His name was Pargan. A strong boy, but he faced a lot of prejudice when he told his family he and I were only friends. They wanted their son to take a wife and have children, and when they realized that was unlikely, they shut him out. When I took my seethe-gator, he saw that as a betrayal of our friendship.”

“Why would he believe that?”

“He thought I wanted to leave him behind. He transferred his family's prejudice onto me and painted me in their colors. However hard I tried to convince him that he and I were still friends, he took my ascent into adulthood very hard. And seven days after I killed my seethe-gator, he killed himself.”

Ramus was stunned. Ever since meeting Lulah he had been convinced that there was some tragedy in her past, something to explain the physical evidence of her missing eye and also her coolness and detachment. But believing in some vague tragedy and hearing the facts of it were very different.

“You can't believe that was all because of you,” Ramus said, and Lulah's head snapped around, and she fixed him with her eye. “I mean, you were his friend. He can't have really thought you betrayed him.”

She shook her head. “No, I don't believe that at all. This stud here . . .” She tapped her eye patch and the star embedded within it. “This is for Pargan's father.”

“You killed him?”