He must have read the apprehension on her face.“Notin the village,” he rushed out, shifting to stand in front of her. “We’ll make camp in the woods.”
Only then did Lunara notice the swelling in his face and the blood tracking down his upper lip. “Shite, your nose.” Without thinking, she clapped her hand over it and poured her power into him, swallowing back any outward reaction. Not broken, judging by the pain she absorbed. Just dreadfully bruised, thanks to her. “I’m sorry. I?—”
“No.” Brand pulled away, flexing his jaw and neck. “No apology needed. It was good to see you using your lessons effectively.”
His smile was lackluster at best.
“Still, I didn’t mean to?—”
“The rest of us can set everything up, if you wouldn’t mind giving us the supplies?”
They spoke at the same time, their words stumbling awkwardly together, but his look said everything. They both knew her words for the half-hearted regret that they were, and he didn’t want them.
Because youdid ‘mean to’ and why apologize when you had every right?
Fair.
All she could do was nod and flick her wrist, Lunara’s dwindled power beginning to pull from her center in unpleasant ways. What were the odds they’d packed a whole slew of things at Lyriat’s insistence, just in case?
Brand huffed when it all appeared. “I envy that ability. Always have.”
His rueful smile cracked some of the ice that’d formed around her since that morning. The way it slowly fell from his face to be exchanged with soft concern almost melted it completely.
“You’ve done so much today already,” he said. “Have a rest. We’ll have food and a fire in no time.”
It felt like a dismissal when he stepped away, turning his palm towards the ground. At his silent command, a slab of earth lifted the supplies she’d summoned, and he waved it along. The make-shift cart followed obediently as he backed away, gaze roving over her for a moment longer before he spun and headed for the woods.
Lunara stared after him, Magnus and Hedda joining him with grim determination.
Have a rest,he’d said.
There was no way in the bleeding realms she could sit there doing nothing. Even as she knew that she didn’t have it in her to be around anyone else right now.
Then again…
Faldir was pacing at the village outskirt, looking as lost as she felt—exactly the type of person she could simply exist beside.
She knew what to do.
Lunara closed the distance between them. “I’m wondering if you might assist me.”
Faldir’s eyes narrowed on her, pursed lips pulling at his puckered scar. “Depends.”
Short and to the point. Perfect. As a male of few words, he wouldn’t wish to prattle on—and he’d be able to protect her.
“I don’t want to talk to anyone, but I also don’t want to wallow alone with my own thoughts. If you’re willing, I think we might be able to do something… helpful?”
Lunara peered at the village, a mere stone’s throw away. To the pain and horror painted in red over its homes and streets and gardens. Over the people.
The dead wouldn’t expect anything of them.
He followed her look. “I’d say they’re a bit beyond help at this point.”
“Physically, yes, but their dignity isn’t. Magnus isn’t either. I need todosomething, Faldir.”
“I understand that.” His sigh was heavy, but mostly for show. “What did you have in mind?”
She explained her plan. To his credit, he only hesitated for a moment, unsure it was worth it but agreeing in the end.
