Chittering, he moved his offering closer.
Callie cupped the underside of his hand, leaned forward, and drank. The water felt wonderful on her tongue and down her throat. She hadn’t realized how parched she was until that moment. He offered her another drink, and she accepted it gratefully.
When she was done, she wiped the water trickling down her chin with the back of her hand as Urkot grabbed her pack.
“We must be away,” he said, swinging the bag around behind her and helping the straps over her arms. He turned his hindquarters toward her and held out a hand. “Come, Callie. Ride me.”
“You know I’m capable of walking just fine, right?”
“Save your strength.”
“You need to save your strength too, Urkot.”
“I am strong. Always.”
“Hard-headed male,” she muttered as she took his hand and carefully threw her leg over his hindquarters. He was the one that had taken the brunt of the cave-in.
Urkot chittered. “Takes one hard head to know one.”
Wiggling her bottom, she adjusted herself until she was straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. She pressed herself close to his back and wrapped her arms around his broad chest.
CHAPTER 10
Water sloshedaround Urkot’s legs as he strode along the stream. The aches wracking his body had deepened, making his muscles stiff, but he ignored them as best he could. Better some soreness than broken bones.
The thornskull delvers flashed through his mind—their faces, their colorful hides, their voices and chitters. Swallowing fresh guilt, he forced the memories away. What had happened could not be changed. What was lost could not be reclaimed. Guilt would not bring back the thornskulls, and neither would it carry Urkot and Callie to safety.
Callie stroked her thumb over his abdomen, calling his attention to her arms, which were wrapped around his torso. He curled his lower arm over them, holding them snugly in place.
She was here with him now, holding him, and she was as much the reason he was still moving as his own toughness or the grace of the gods. He needed to protect her. Needed to save her.
Yet her presence left him conflicted.
She was a comfort to him. Her warmth and weight upon his hindquarters and back, her gentle breath against his hide, her hold, so tender and needful; all of it calmed him. Callie had dragged him back from looming panic more than once.
But she shouldn’t have been here. Shouldn’t have been in this dangerous situation, shouldn’t have faced the hardships, the horrors, that she’d experienced today. Right now, she should’ve been safe in Kaldarak with the rest of their tribe.
The stream flowed along a gradual downslope. He was not happy about journeying deeper understone, but the airflow, subtle though it was, led in this direction.
Somewhere far, far ahead, there was an opening to the surface.
Please, Gods, let it be one we can use.
And let the path to it be clear.
The Eight would tire of his prayers before this ordeal was through…and he would surely tire of making them. He’d always honored the Eight, especially the Delver, who watched over all vrix who plunged into the unknown, be it in the depths of the ground or the jungle.
“So, are you going to say I told you so?” Callie asked, her voice scarcely loud enough to hear over the sound of water.
Urkot tilted his head. “What did you tell me?”
Callie chuckled. “I mean, are you going to tell me that you were right. That I should have listened to you and stayed out of the cave. You said it was dangerous and well…here we are.”
He never wanted Callie to be in danger, never wanted her to suffer, and he would’ve preferred it had she avoided all of this by heeding his warning.
And yet…some part of him was glad she was here. Was glad he did not have to endure this alone. He wasn’t sure if he could do this without Callie, lost in this darkness without her light.
“I was right,” he said slowly, making sure he chose the correct words, “but you were right too. Danger is everywhere. We cannot hide from it all. And it is better that we are here together than here alone.”
