How much longer?she asked in alarm.
He shook his head, breathing too fast, pushing himself on. She could feel it in his lean forward, his desire to go faster. She complied, taking more of his weight, wilting under the onslaught.
Up ahead, peeking out through dense vegetation and half nestled into a little berm, dull brown wood announced a structure. Tarian reached for the door when they were still a ways off, grabbing for the handle.
Almost there,she said softly, clutching the presence of his mind within hers and trying to keep it with her so he didn’t drift away entirely. She didn’t know if that was possible or if it was working, but it made her feel like she was doing more than shambling and lurching toward their hopeful safe haven.Just a little farther.
He barely nodded, his head drooping. Then his back bowed, still oozing gruesomely. She pushed on, breathing heavily with his weight, refusing to allow her legs to buckle. She could still at least feel them…kinda. She willed herself forward. A little faster.
He mumbled something.
What?she asked.
He mumbled something else, the words not taking shape, barely reaching her ears. His hand came outagain, flexing. The presences around them, the voices and feelings, the creepy sensations and negative motives, fell away. Scattered. She barely heard or felt them now. Instead, warmth existed in front of her. That was what it felt like, anyway, as if they were marching through a blizzard and a fire roared just up ahead. The colors softened, or her perception of them did, and the feelings grew welcoming.
Magic, obviously. His magic or his activating some other kind of magic.
Perceptive.His thought felt flimsy, less solid. His amusement was only a passing wisp, lost to the darkness a moment later. He was fading fast.
Here we go.She gripped the feeling of him in her head harder.Almost there. Rest will help. You just need rest.
She hoped that was all he needed, because in this realm, she had no idea which plants might act as medicine, and which plants might finish him off.
21
Step by aching step, she wrestled him toward that glowing shack at the end of the tiny path, not much more than a game trail, but forreallylarge game. On one of his stumbles, he reached out to grab her. His hand didn’t touch down. He quickly pulled it away, probably so his arm wouldn’t drag her closer against his side, crushing any lingering poison onto her skin.
I’m sure it’s all oozed down your body by now,she said, nearly there, reaching around his big back.
“No.” He shoved away from her and fell into the door. “No?—”
The door gave way under his weight, and he tumbled into the space. His hand peeled off the ancient-looking knob, bronzed and weather worn. His limbs settled on the ground, and he stayed there, cheekagainst the dusty wooden floor, chest rising and falling much too quickly.
“Fine.” She stepped around him, grabbed his wrists, and heaved. It was like moving a concrete pillar. “C’mon, you bastard,” she mumbled, using anger to coax adrenaline into her aching joints and tired limbs. “C’mon, here we go.” She dragged him a little bit, then a little bit more. “You could also help me. Just go ahead and inchworm forward. A little bit more and I can close the door.”
With a world-weary sigh, he did as she said, not moving much, but enough for her to use his momentum to inch him all the way into the modest space. That done, she stepped around him to close the door, but imagery started tumbling into her mind. She paused, hand on the knob, focusing on the beautiful images filled with light and sunbeams and vibrant hues of color. A path wound through them, following the natural landmarks, turns, and finally ending at a babbling brook.
The imagery changed to the space they occupied. Cupboards and baskets filled with supplies and?—
She stepped over him, finding the cupboard in question and pulling out the water skin.
More images—no, the same as before, going over the directions, instructing her to get water.
“Got it,” she said, turning.
Still more images came, this time ending in a field near the brook and looking down on a very pretty flowerwith an explosion of vibrancy. Magenta and amethyst petals framed a core of fiery marigold, emitting beads of light that drifted into the air and hovered all around. Just off the center, the petals looked like leaves, with veins of luminous tangerine, fuchsia, or violet. The leaves seemed ultraviolet, with the blues, purples, pinks, and lime greens.
He went through how to pick it twice, how to tuck it into the pack she needed to grab in a minute, and how to prepare it. So handy, this way of communicating. It made information transfer so much quicker and less tedious.
When he was finished, and before she could leave, images of creatures flashed into her mind. His feelings indicated how she should respond to them, if she should fight, run, hide…
Finally, the images stopped, his feelings subsided, and she lifted her brow to make sure that meant she should go.
The image of the door hitting her in the ass on the way out filtered into her mind.
“Cute,” she said dryly, grabbing the pack, strapping it and the water skin to her person, and checking her weapons.
She didn’t have a shirt, which would make a quick draw of her knife easier, but it would also expose that she had a knife. Of course, she had yanked Tarian’s belt and sheath off him and secured it around her hips, so it wasn’t like she would be hiding anything anyway. Shewas at least thankful she’d been abducted after a job and not after an event. Her nipples showing through a lacy bra was not what she was going for. The sturdy cotton she currently wore checked the right boxes.
