“Boots?” Kiera asked, running her finger over the yellow stitching on her shirt as if reluctant to part with it.
“We can’t.” I stripped mine off. “None of the prisoners wore shoes.”
“Makes it harder for them to run off, I suppose,” she said bitterly. “I’ll have to strap Mother’s knife to my leg when we get to the mine.”
Maz grabbed another set of men’s clothes and patted Kiera’s shoulder. “Better than between your ass cheeks, lovely. Someday, I’ll tell you the story of how Aiden and I escaped Calimber.”
Kiera wrinkled her nose and selected her own clothes.
The three of us stood staring at each other.
“Bit of a memory, isn’t it?” Maz said with a forced grin. “When I freed you two from the Den?”
Kiera’s lips twitched. “We helped.”
“A bit.” He waved his finger in a circle. “Shall we all turn around again, or just me, since the two of you have already seen each other naked?”
Kiera’s cheeks reddened. A memory of her smooth, naked body against mine sent a rush of desire through me.
“Not the time, Mazkull,” I growled and pivoted my back to them.
I yanked off my shirt and pants and put on the prisoner’s garb. The pants fell just above my ankle. The shirt collar was torn at the front, revealing my chest. The thin material let in every breath of breeze and smelled of a dozen campfires.
“Done,” Kiera called out softly.
“Same,” Maz said.
I turned just as they did. My jaw clenched.
Kiera’s curved torso was clearly visible beneath the threadbare shirt. Her breast band offered little protection fromleering eyes. I was staring, too, but the cruel supervisors in the mine would likely have far worse intentions.
“Where will you hide the keys?” I rasped. “You have no pockets.”
Kiera crossed her arms in front of her chest, dislodging my gaze. “Between my cheeks, if I must,” she quipped.
Maz snorted.
I nearly bit my tongue in half to keep from telling her to stay back.
“This is the only instance I’m glad they have Dag prisoners,” Maz grumbled, picking at his shirt.
I’d left him the larger one, but it still clung to him like a second skin. His tattoos were visible, as my falcon one likely was. But for once, no one would care. We were just two more prisoners.
A moment later, Nikella and Ruru rejoined us. Nikella dropped a bulging sack on the ground.
“Where’s your cloak?” I asked.
“Left it with the horses,” Nikella said, her eyes not meeting mine.
She looked strange without her long hood. But we would get it back. This wasn’t goodbye.
She and Ruru grabbed their prisoner disguises and changed behind trees. Then we stuffed our old clothing into the sack. Nikella cinched it shut and hid it behind a nearby bush.
“We should go,” I said, my voice hoarse and uneven.Whatever happens, I’m proud to have known and fought with each of you.
All four of them looked at me, silent understanding in their eyes.
We walked away from the campsite. My callused feet didn’t mind the thick, rough grass. But the cold dew that wet my skinsent a shiver down my spine. The Medria was going to be even colder.
