“We’ve made a lot of headway under the night cover, we’re all tired. Let’s just break camp here.” My voice practically croaks with exhaustion.
“I’m not tired, I’m absolutely willing to continue especially if it means that man can drag behind me until his arms separatefrom his body.” Caym stares at me wide eyed, his annoyance turning into bemusement as he quirks a brow.
My face falls flat. A nice soft bed with buttery sheets would be a blessing, but the scratchy bedroll in my saddle bag sounds just as lovely right now.
The words fly from my mouth like a lashing, “Fine,I’mtired. Cranky. Hungry. And my ass is sore. I need a break.”
The fucker has the audacity to smirk—to actually smirk.
With laughter coating his tongue he quips, “I never thought I’d hear those words in my life, oh noble leader.”
Leeson lets out a bellow of laughter that almost has her toppling off her horse.
“You two are such children.” I may pretend to be annoyed with them, but secretly I’m enjoying seeing them together.
I urge Dahla on as if I could escape the joking and teasing, even though it’s a salve, like the rope burn on my neck isn’t still on fire and raw. They know how to help me feel normal, just like the night they found me curled up as a young girl, too afraid to move.
The echoes of their laughter bounce among the trees in the silent forest, startling birds into flight.
Once Lees and Caym are out of my peripheral I release a small smile.
My heart fills with a little bit of happiness. I love the sounds those two make when they’re having fun, even if it’s at my expense.
The crackle of fire whispers in the eerily calm woods. Its soft siren song lures me in and I’m entranced by the flames, exhaustion needling at my soul. Even though it’s just past midday, the chill from the early morning ride hasn’t eased from my bones.
We made camp shortly after I rode away from the riverbank needing to clear my head, to build some resolve back into my marrow.
Looking around I finally absorb some of my surroundings, the adrenaline that had fueled me up until this point slowly leeching away. I count eight of us, nine if we include our prisoner. Caym and Lees are cuddled together, sitting under a gray woolen blanket closest to their fire.
In another group, four men are squatting on logs, cleaning their weapons. Zedriel, with the ability to shapeshift into another, is the only man in that particular group who has abilities.
His tall, rough features make him appear even more formidable during hand to hand combat, his towering build making even average men seem smaller. Although he’s intimidating in stature, he’s one of the kindest men I have met. He reminds me of the gentle goodness still in the realm, people who genuinely believe in the kindness of others.
He looks as if he might be part beast with his untamed dark hair and bushy brows, but he would sooner give the shirt off his back for anyone in need—clearly, as his spare leather coat is now wrapped loosely around The Devourer.
It’s an odd sight because The Devourer isn’t a small man, he’s at least two heads taller than I, but seeing him in Zedriel’s coat is laughable as it’s two sizes too big.
Merinda, the last in our party, keeps watch on the outer areas of our camp, looking for any possible tail. I watch her round a tree, the scar on her hand flashing with the light flitting through the canopy. The pale ridge runs from her wrist to her elbow, even more noticeable on her cool umber skin.
She’s one of my favorites in our company. Her beautiful skin, flickering in an array of topaz jeweled colors from the fire, is nothing compared to her deep sapphire gaze, though they also have been marred with loss.
She came to us just a turn ago, eager to help dismantle the chaos of Noxia. Her skill with a bow quickly put some of our best men to shame.
She instantly became a favorite of Leeson and mine, as she was our age, oftentimes staying up late in Rivers End to dive nude into the natural pools. Merinda has always been willing to join Lees’ and I’s chaos. I’d often see her gaze linger on me in those pools, a storm raging within those blue orbs.
Her lover died during a skirmish in a smaller coastal town where the king’s men had passed through rioting and looting,leaving despair in their wake. Merinda had buried her with the sunset and arrived at River’s End two days later.
The trip had to have been at breakneck speed, but many of us were accustomed to that kind of desperation. The kind of brokenness that burned and forced you to run.
The three of us had gotten far into our cups on many occasions, when we released all care and could celebrate in our sisterhood.
One time, we drunkenly climbed up from the cavern floor to the outer rim of the crater that opened up to the cliffs of Dirya and watched the sunrise swell from the dark waters of the sea.
With that burst of sunlight glittering on the black waves with white caps, we all cried, not for those we lost, but because for a moment in time we feltcontent.
That was the first time I felt true peace since my family was stolen from me.
I slowly blink the memory from my vision, focusing on the small smoking fire. Leaning down, I blow a steady breath to fan the flame of drowning embers. The coals smolder less and with a sudden bite, the flames roar and swallow the twigs.
